CHAPTER I.

CVrious Reader, The desire which I had to re­count my life vnto thee, made me make great haste to ingulfe my selfe therein, without first preparing some things fit to be related, which (seruing as an induction and entrance to the matter) had beene very needfull for the better informing of thy vnderstanding: (for beeing essentiall to this Discourse) they would like­wise haue giuen thee no small content. But through too much haste, I forgat to shut the doore after mee, and so vnawares haue left a way of entrance open, for euery wrangling Sophister, and smatterer in Logicke, to taxe me ofignorance, and to lay it as a fault to my charge, that I did not proceed à definitione ad definitum, from the de­finition to the thing defined. And that before I tooke vpon me to make Rela­tion thereof, I had not first told thee, who, and what were my Parents, toge­ther with their obscure and confused birth: which so much for so much, or as farre as concerneth them in their particular, according to their modell, and proportion in their kind and degree, would without doubt (had I but vnder­taken to describe it vnto you) beene farre more pleasing, and more acceptable vnto you, then this mine owne life. I will rather preferre that, which is of most importance, leauing that which is not lawfull for me, to others to vn­dergoe that taske, and to play out that tricke at Cards for me. And albeit it becommeth no man, to participate of that propertie of the Hyena, to make a liuing by ripping vp the liues of the dead, as shee doth maintaine her selfe The Hyena and her qualities. [Page 2] by feeding on those carkases which she teares out of graues; I assure my selfe, considering the Censurers that are now adayes to bee found in the world, they will not want those that will write their Chronicle. Nor is it a thing to be wondred at, since that this slight shadowing of my Fathers life, seemeth to inferre, that I pare them too neere the quicke, or at least, that there went but one paire of sheeres, betweene their liues, and mine. And I doubt not, but thou wilt out with thy purse, and giue mee a thousand rash Attri­butes; the least whereof shall be either Foole, or Blockhead, or Coxcombe, or the like. For if I cannot conceale mine owne faults, you will say, I will make no bones to bewray others. Thy reason is good, and I allow of it, but I would haue thee withall to consider, That albeit thou wilt count mee but a lewd It is worse to be bad, then to be thought so. Companion, yet I would not willingly seeme so to be, though it bee farre worse to be so, and to make boast of wickednesse. And that by contradicting so iust a Precept, as is that fifth Commandement, touching the honour and re­uerence which I owe them, I should goe about to couer mine owne weake­nesses, by laying open those of my Ancestors. For, it is the birth of vile and base What minde is that, which is base thoughts, to seeke to grace themselues by disgracing others, which is now an ordinary practice, which I condemne for that solemn In your great solemne feasts in Spaine, they vse to haue seuen, & in some places eight Prebends with Scepters of siluer in their hands, and Copes of cloth of gold on their backs, when they assist at di­uine seruice, and singing of An­themes. From which metaphor this phrase is bor­rowed. foolery of sixe Priests Copes, or double-Feasts; that is to say, for anotorious, and high point of folly. And a greater there cannot be, because therein I discouer my bend, and shew which way the dint of my edge lyeth. And my errour is not sal­ued, by wounding the good name of my neighbour, or by traducing my Pa­rent. Besides, the Detractor neuer heareth well, but is euill spoken of by all men. But to me, it doth not succeed so; for in the setting forth and adorning of this History, (it being necessary that my selfe must needs doe it) no man but will say, Gods blessing be with him, that so truely resembles his Parents, casting vpon me these their good wishes by the way. Againe, his life was so well knowne, and all that he did, so manifest to all the world, that to pretend the denying of it, were meere folly, and an open Arresto, is a French word: but because it is Spa­niolized, I say, Arresto, is as much as a De­cree, or Sen­tence confirmed in the Supreme Counsell, from which there is no Appeale. So sayes Casaneus in his Catol. gloriae Mundi. Arre­stum firmum, & fixum, à quo nemo prouo­care possit. And it is a meere Greeke Word [...], placitum, gratum, ae­quum. That it is pronounced with a double rr: the reason is, for that the French is a Virile tongue. Resto consignado, is the set rest agreed vpon at Primero, which they may not passe. But jugar à resto abierto, vale, sin tassa, without limitation; when a man may set what he will: The Reader may take which sense be best liketh. Arrest, and free liberty gi­uen for the occasioning of new matter of murmuration to be brought against him. And therefore I am perswaded, that I doe them (if I may vse that phrase of speech) a notorious courtesie, in expressing the pure, and true naked Text, wherewith I will giue the lye to those glosses, which haue beene made there­upon. For as often as any one mentioneth any thing of him, or recounts ought of his, he addes thereunto, and multiplyes it with the Cyphers, which are set to his owne Spectacles, or as it pleaseth him; sometimes making more, but neuer lesse, as the vaine comes vpon him, and as the toy for the pre­sent takes him in the head. For there is a certaine kinde of men, that when matter is offered suting to their purpose, for to make their tale square, and to hang well together, will lessen a Pyramis of Egypt, and make of a Gnat an Ele­phant, gather euidence from surmises; sight from hearing; and knowledge from opinion, onely for to flourish their eloquence, and to credit their discre­tion. Thus it vsually falleth out, and this was to bee seene in a Gentleman a Stranger, whom my selfe knew in Madrid: Who beeing much affectioned to Spanish Horses, and desirous to carry home with him to his owne Country a true and faithfull Counterfeit, as wel for his own entertainment and delight, as that he might shew the same to his friends. And for that he was of a Nati­on farre remote, and it being neither permitted, nor possible for him, to car­rie them home aliue, hauing in his owne stable two of the fairest of stature, and feature, that were to be found in all the Court: he intreated two famous Painters, that each of them would draw one, as they should agree vpon their choise; promising (besides their due) a certain reward to him that should sur­passe the other in workemanship. The one painted a py'd Horse, with that [Page 3] perfection, that hee onely failed in that, which was impossible for him to doe, to wit, in giuing him life, and soule. For, in the rest (deceiuing the sight, because it did little, or nothing at all differ from the naturall) it would on the sudden haue blinded any carelesse eye, and at the first blush amazed his vnderstanding, for that there was no difference betweene a liuing Horse and it. With this onely did he fill and finish his Table, giuing in the rest Lights and shadowes, as might sute best with each seuerall part.

The other drew a Dapple-gray (that heauen-resembling colour) and though his worke were very good, yet it came very short of that before deliuered; yet in one thing, he went much beyond him, wherein he shew'd himselfe his crafts-master. And it was this: when he had painted his Horse, in those other parts of the Table, where he found blankes, or void places, in those that were vppermost, hee drew admirable Land-skips, and other representations of things afarre off, as clouds in the ayre; streakes in the sky, and other fiery co­lours of the heauens, occasioned by the reflexe of the Sun-setting beames, rui­nated buildings, and other diuersities of rare Architecture. And in the lower part, neerest to the ground; he had graced his worke with many fine Groues, dainty Flowers, greene Meddowes, and craggy Rocks. And on the one side of the Table, that made fittest for that purpose, hee had fastned all the furniture, belonging to his Horse, to the body of a Tree, at the foote whereof stood a Saddle, Gennet-fashion, so costly, and so curiously wrought, and with that excellency of Art, as it cannot be in-deered too much, or expressed to that life it deserueth.

When this Gentleman saw his Tables, and liking them wonderfull well (as he had reason so to doe) he first paid him, with whom he had first agreed, and not sticking vpon that which he demanded for it, giuing in reward to that ingenious Painter a rich ring from off his finger, he sent him away well satis­fied, hauing paid him ouer & aboue the price for which they bargained.

Now the other grew so fondly conceited, & so foolishly in loue with his own worke, and was so vainely transported with hope of a liberall and franke pai­ment, that he required such an excessiue price, as was beyond all reason.

The Gentleman, being strooken blanke, and put to a non-plus, that hee should aske him so much, and that he had scarce wherewithall to pay him, said vnto him; Tell me (my friend) why shouldest thou aske me so much; or why doest thou not consider with thy selfe what this other piece cost me, where­vnto thine cannot be compared; nor comes nothing neere it? For the Horse (indeede Sir, answered the Painter) your Worship speakes reason. But the ve­ry trees, and ruines, that are in mine, are worth as much as all the others worke. To whom the Gentleman replide; It is neither fitting, nor necessary for me to carry home with me such a volume of trees; such a bulke of ill com­bined buildings; and such a deale of lumber and luggage as is heere, when we haue many faire and goodly houses in our owne Country. Besides, I haue not that affection to these toyes, as I haue vnto Horses. And that which I cannot otherwise enioy but by picture, that alone I desire to carry along with me.

The Painter againe made answere; In so great and large a piece; a sole sin­gle Horse will not shew so well. And if for nothing else, yet at least for the de­light of the Eye, and the gracing of the Square, it not only importeth a Pain­ter, but euen enforceth him sometimes to compose a Picture of other diffe­rent things, besides the Master piece, that may qualifie it the better, and giue it the more delicate lustre. So that, this seeming fairer to the sight, and pre­senting it selfe with that pleasure as it doth, you will grant me this, I hope; That it is very fit, that a horse should haue his bridle, and his saddle, together with his trappings, and all other things belonging to a perfect and complete furniture; especially being so curiously wrought, with so cleane a hand, and [Page 4] such exquisite Art, that if you would giue me other such as these, though they were all of Gold, I would not take them in exchange for those that you see heere drawne. The Gentleman hauing now found a string whereupon to play, and caught hold of that, which he most desired, which was the Picture, that he had already paid for (the other esteeming impertinent, though in it's kinde very good, and much to be commended) and not finding himselfe so o­uer-stored with money, as to part with so much as hee required, discreetly said vnto him; I onely bargain'd with you for the Horse, and (for that the worke is good, and well wrought) I will (if you be pleased to sell it mee) pay you accordingly. As for the furniture, you may keepe it to your selfe, or be­stow it vpon those, that haue a minde to it, for I haue no need of it. The Pain­ter went away discontented, and vnpaid, by reason of the excessiue rates hee He that does that which he ought not, that haps to him, which hee thinkes not. had set vpon his Picture; and for that out of his owne choise, he had wilfully ouerlashed his discretion, thinking with himselfe, that because his Worke was more, he should be the more rewarded.

It hath been (and still is) a common and generall custome amongst men, The effects of Detractors. when you intreat them to recite what they know in this, or that other thing; or to report what they haue heard, or seene; or to tell you the truth and sub­stance of a businesse, to prepare colours to slicke it ouer, and to paint and disguize it, that you can no more know the face of it, then the countenance of an old Hagge, that is plaisterd ouer with painting. Euery one giues his sha­dowings after his owne fancie: one while amplifying; another while mouing passion; sometimes disannulling, and sometimes diuerting, as the humour takes him. Now he stretcheth it with his teeth, that he may make the Leather retch: By and by againe, he fileth and polisheth it, till he haue made it fit for his purpose, that he may cut and graue therein what he list; putting it an Ace, or a Sice higher, if it please him so to do. Making, like another Count The Count Pa­latines, anciently in Rome, had power and priui­ledge to legiti­mate Bastards, to giue degrees, and Titles of ho­nour in learning, or otherwise. Vide Couarru­ [...]ias in Voca­bulo Palatino. Pala­tine, a Foole, a Wise man; a filthy-fac'd fellow, a beautifull person; and a Co­wardly Villaine, a valiant Hercules. They set the Caract and worth vpon things, as they please to value them; not remembring, that they may paint a Horse well inough, though they leaue him bare-ridged, and without his fur­niture; and report a thing true inough to the life, without commenting vp­on it. Iust so hath it fared with my father, of whom to speake the truth, things are so falsified, that nothing is now said of him, which was so indeed. They haue (with Celestine) of tres made treze, of three, thirteene; and of thirteene, three hundred. For euery one thinkes it fit to adde somewhat: so that Mole­hils are growne to be Mountaines, and such a confused Chaos, and rapsodie of things huddled one on the necke of another, that there is no bottome of them, nor can there any ground for them be found: euery one incouraging himselfe by the additions of others, (one growing still vpon another.) And that wrong which euery particular person in himselfe was not able to doe, by a generall helping hand, and common consent of all men, is become more grieuous. There are some deceitfull and false tongues, which, like sharpe-headed Ar­towes, and hot burning Coales, haue gone about to wound the honour, and consume to ashes the good name of my Parents; whence both to them, and my selfe, diuers notable affrents doe dayly redound. It is to bee imagi­ned, and you may very well beleeue mee, that if it lay in our hands, to make our owne choise (but beggers must be no choosers) out of that masse of Adam, and first lumpe of flesh, I would haue scrambled hard for one of the best morsels, though I had been forced to goe to Cuffes for it: But there is no helpe for that; Euery man must bee content with that which fals to his lot: we may not be our owne Caruers. But since he that hath shared these things amongst vs, keepes them in his owne hands, and knowes when and where to bestow them, and what is fittest for euery man, let vs praise his holy Name. For though I had (God be thanked for it) my Allud [...]ng to Ia­cobs halting. haltings, though I had naturall [Page 5] defects, though I were not without my spots and blemishes, yet was I so fauoured by Fortune, that I was nobly borne; and that they lighted vpon a man innobled in his blood, both by father and mother. La sangue se hereda, y el vicio se apega, Blood is by inheritance, but Vice is aduentitious, yet clea­ueth closer then the other, when it once takes hold of vs. He that shall be, what he ought to be, shall be accordingly rewarded, but shall not purge away the faults of his Parents.

First of all then, I shall giue you to vnderstand, That my father, and his Kindred, were a certaine kind of vpstart Gentlemen, that came out of the Guzmans father. Levantisco, which is the word in the Ori­ginall, is taken for an Vpstart, a Iew, or an Ea­sterling, come - from the Levant And, Estar de Levante, is one, that hath no set dwelling. Covarruvias, vocab. Levan­te. Against Vsurers, and Exchangers of Moneys. Leuant, who hauing no certaine abiding, came at length to reside, and settle in Genoa; where they were ingrafted into the Nobilitie, and had many large and goodly Priuiledges granted vnto them. And although they were not Naturals of that place, yet we shall here put them vnder that stile, as if they had beene borne there. His Trafficke and income, whereby he maintai­ned himselfe, was according to the common custome of that Country; the which, for our sinnes sake, is growne now into ours; which infection of late, hath spred it selfe thorow the world, to wit, Vsury, Money-bankes, and pro­fitable Exchange of gold and siluer. Euen for this, was he persecuted and re­uiled, defaming him with that foule name of Vsurer. Many times hee him­selfe heard that reprochfull word as hee past along the streets, it could not e­scape his eare, yet he was of that good nature, and gentle condition, that hee tooke no notice of it, but slightly past it ouer. For which, they had no reason so to do, since that Vse-money (the more the pittie) hath beene, and is still permitted thorowout the world. I will not commend it, and (God forbid) that I should defend it to belawfull (which some do allow) to take money for money, vpon pawnes of gold or siluer for some limited time, or to take (the day being broken) the The Spanish word, is Rema­tado. Now Re­mato, or Trance. is the last bidding for a thing at a Port sale, which when we are come vnto, tran­sit res à vendi­tore, ad emp­torem. Forfeiture thereof, nor other close trickes and con­ueyances: nor that which they call by the name of Cambio seco, is a myste­ry among Mer­chants, to assigne ouer Bils of Ex­change from An­twerpe to Be­zonzon in Lorrain, where there is no Fayre or trade of Mer­chandize: but Bils are thence remitted to Ge­noa, onely to gaine time, and day of payment. Guzmans fa­thers deuotion. Cambio seco, a dry kind of Exchange. Nor that money should runne from Faire to Faire, where there was neuer any intercourse of men, or trading: for those doe but beare about them the voice of Iacob, and the hands of Esau; kind shewes, and rough deeds. And at the shooting of Ionathans flight, or some warning-piece or o­ther that is giuen, the deceit is discouered. But such things as these, (though they laid them to his charge) I my selfe saw them not, and therefore cannot giue you any inckling of them.

But that which is absolutely vnderstood to be Cambio, an Exchange or tur­ning and winding of moneys, is a thing indifferent, which may (as it is vsed) be either good or ill. And for such (though perhaps vniustly) I doe not won­der, that (being it ought to be esteemed ill) it is not reproued. But that which is euidently good, being without any shadow of euill, that men should mur­mure at this, and speake against it; this is that, which doth astonish me, and strikes me into a strange amazement. To say, when I see a religious person enter at midnight thorow a window, into a suspected place, with his sword in his hand, and his buckler at his girdle, that he is going to minister the Sa­crament, were a meere madnesse: for neither God will haue it so, nor doth his Church permit, that I should be such an errant Asse, as to thinke that to be good, which is euidently euill. When a man shall pray, frequent vertuous exercises, heare diuine Seruice, confesse his sinnes, and often communicate; for men to say, that such a one is an Hypocrite, I can by no meanes indure it: and as there is nothing more scandalous to a good Christian, so is there not any wickednesse like vnto it.

My father had a faire large Masse-booke with the full number of Dauids 150. Psalmes, wherein he had beene taught to pray, (I meane in the Spanish tongue) and a great paire of Beades, whereof euery one of them was as bigge as an hazell nut. These my mother gaue him, which came to his hands when [Page 6] she died. These he alwaies carried about him, you should neuer see them out of his hand, euery morning he heard his Masse, humbly kneeling with both his knees on the ground, his hands ioyning themselues together at his brest, lifting them vp towards heauen, on the toppe whereof his Hat hung. Some malicious people (by way of reproch) did not sticke to say, that he did pray in this manner, because he would not heare the Priest, and that he held his Hat so high, because he would not see him. But of this, let them iudge, who find themselues free from passion, and let them tell me, whether it be not a peruerse and rash censure, proceeding from a prophane kinde of people, that haue no care of their soules, and without any conscience at all. But the very truth is, that the maine cause, and first beginning of their murmuring against him, was; that a Partner of his in Seuill, being broken, and turn'd Bankrupt, and hauing carried away with him great summes of moneys that were his, he pursued after him, as well to remedy himselfe as well as he could of so great a losse, as also to order and settle some other necessary businesses, which did much concerne him.

The ship he went in was set vpon and taken; and hee, together with the Guzmans fa­ther taken priso­ner. rest that were in her, taken captiues, and carried to Argiers: where, what out of feare, and what out of despaire; feare, for that hee knew not how or which way to recouer his liberty; and despaire, for that hee neuer looked to get againe his moneys; for quietnesse sake, as one that had not the spirit of contradiction, or that was wont to gainesay any thing, he renounced his Re­ligion, and turned Turke. There he married a Moore, a woman of perfect beauty, and principall ranke, with whom he had good store of wealth. For He turnes Turke. He marries a Moore. in matter of interest, (taking it in the generall, in which tracke I still treade, without preiudice to a great number of noble persons, and graue and princi­pall Gentlemen; for there are of all sorts in all places) I will onely speake by the way, what I my selfe knew of some of my fathers kindred, during the time, that I traded and conuersed with them. They were very solicitous in Guzmans kin­dred, what con­dition they were of. meddling with other mens houses, and too forgetfull and carelesse of their owne: desirous, that other men should deale plainly and truly with them, whilest from themselues, you should not get so much as one true word. Wil­ling, that others should pay them all that they ought, but of what they ought, to pay nothing at all: to gaine and spend freely, (light where it would light for them, they cared not who did wring for it) for the pawne was already forfeited, their day was past; and (as the Prouerbe is) à Roma por todo, at Rome there is an absolution for all offences. It afterwards so fell out, that my fathers Partner, to secure himselfe from after-claps, and to liue out of danger, laboured to take order with his Creditors, and to compound for his debts, vpon faire and reasonable conditions, requiring such rates and dayes of pay­ment, as that he might both be able to liue well himselfe, as also to pay his debts.

When this came to my fathers eare, that had certaine and assured notice of Guzmans fa­ther flies from Argiers. And in what manner. it, he had a great desire to come away with all the secrecie and diligence he could possibly deuise. And the better to deceiue the Moore his wife, hee told her, that he purposed to employ himselfe in matters of Merchandize, which would turne much to their profit. He made money of most that he had, and putting it into Chekines, (a certaine coyne, that is made of fine Barbary gold) taking with him all the Iewels he could finger, and so leauing her alone, and very poore, he came his way with all the speed he could. And not making any one acquainted therewith, neither friend nor foe, reducing himselfe to the Faith of Iesus Christ, repenting himselfe of his fault, with teares in his eyes, being his owne Promoter, he accused himselfe, crauing pardon for his offence, and that some fauourable penance might bee inflicted vpon him. Which being inioyned him, and fully performed by him, he afterwards went [Page 7] about to recouer his debts. And this was the chiefe cause, why they would neuer afterwards trust him, nor haue any charitable opinion of him, were his workes neuer so good, neuer so pious. And if you aske other reason, you were as good hold your tongue, you shall get none other from them, but im­pertinencies, and answers nothing to the purpose, such as they haue often made me; Once a knaue, and euer a knaue: Nam qui semel est, semper praesu­mitur Once a Knaue, & euer a Knaue. esse malus: For he that hath once beene naught, is presumed to bee so still; and that he will neuer get out of the way of wickednes, that hath once made it his common walke. Not considering, that no man knowes, how God toucheth a mans heart, and cals him home vnto him, putting him againe in the right path, and whether (agreeable to that authenticke Law) hee had reformed his manners or no.

Here you see, without leaning this or that way, or without any the least inclining to any side, my fathers Mere-stones; the very limits, and bounds, that do define and determine him; On the one side, stand (as supporters) his couzening Kindred, and bankrupt Copartner; on the other side, his owne coozening of the Moore. And if it be obiected, that he himselfe brake twice or thrice, hauing other mens goods in his hands; if they likewise brake with him, it is no wonder, that he should not hold. For men are not made of steele, nor are they bound to hold like nayles: for they, euen though of yron, doe sometimes faile and burst in sunder, and grow weake and loose. These are your Merchants stratagems, their fine shifts of wit, which (vpon occasion) The cunning trickes of certaine Merchants in their Trading. they practise when and where they please; especially in Spaine, where they haue found the tricke of getting. Nor is it a thing so much to be wondred at; there lies their skill, let it thriue as it will: we leaue that to themselues, and their Confessors, to whom, I doubt not, but they giue a large account of their doings. Onely God is the Iudge of these things; and let him that ab­solues them, looke what he does: I see many, that make a common practice of it, but not a man of them, that hangs for it. If it were a delict, an euill thing, or a theft, it is a cleare case that it should be punished, since for lesse then sixe Royals, we see an hundred poore soules whipt about the towne, and sent to the Gallies.

That I might not vent my selfe in my fathers preiudice, I could be content to hold my peace, and to silence what I thinke: but if I will follow the Philo­sophers counsell, I must then say, Amicus Plato, sed magis amicus Ueritas: Pla­to is my friend, but the Truth more. I loue my father well, but I must pre­serue the truth aboue all things. Conforming my selfe therefore to that Phi­losophicall saying, let the world hold me excused, if I canonize this Case for one of the greatest villanies and rogueries, that was euer put in vse, and such as deserueth exemplarie punishment, and that in no meane degree. But per­haps some one Merchant or other, that is his crafts-master in this kind of trade, will tell me to my face, Hold your hand, Sir, you are a little too for­ward, in what Consistory (I pray) of the Pope and his Cardinals, hath Bank­rupture beene determined, and condemned for a sinne? Who will put an Ideot, a Galley-slaue, a Rogue, to establish Lawes, or to censure those Trades wherein he hath no skill? But I now see how I haue erred, in speaking against that, which I cannot helpe, and whereof there is so little amendment to bee expected. For I would willingly indure thy taunts, and bearè thy reproches, so that there might either punishment or remedy be giuen to this honourable kind of theeuing, though my owne father should stretch for it, and giue the Gallowes it's first handsell. Let it runne on as it doth; for the reformation of such important things as these, and other of greater moment, grow daily worse and worse; their Andar de capa cayda. To go with their Cloake fallen, is a phrase that is vsed of those, who go loosing both their substance, and their credit. Cloake is falne (as it is in the Prouerbe) from off their shoulders. But what doth this belong vnto me? for me to speake against it, is to cry out vpon the Woolfe, where none will come to helpe mee, [Page 8] to stoppe the Sunne in its course, and to preach in the wildernesse.

But I returne to that, which they layd most to his charge; which was, That he was apprehended and imprisoned, for that which thou thy selfe say­est, How a Iudge & a Scrivano may be bad. or that hath beene dictated vnto thee by others. But for that he was rich and wealthy, and (as some say) for that he had an Alcalde to his father, and a The Spanish word [...] Elcriva­no. i. Scriba publicus, [...]r­vus publicus, qui acta in lu­dicio, vel ex­tra Iudicium, notis vel lite­ris excipit. Vt constat Lege, nō vaum. 18. §. de adoptioni­bus. Besides that which is alledged by Don Iuan Vela in his Tract de poenis deli­ctorum, cap. 24. de Notario falsum com­mittente. Notarie to his Gossip, he by that meanes came off, and was freed. For there were sufficient proofes and euidences brought against him; and such suspicions to induce beliefe, as might haue seru'd the turn to haue turn'd him ouer. But one puls me by the sleeue, and tels me in mine eare, Do you heare, Sir? Suspicion is no proofe, and naked signes, are not of themselues capable of chastisement. I did looke for this conclusion from thee; assuring my selfe be­forehand, that thou wouldst take them all to be old Wiues tales, when they meet at the Bake-house to set their bread into the Ouen; that they are all lies, and false testimonies, maliciously vrged against him. And seeing I haue a­uow'd, and made good one part vnto thee, thou wilt not deny, but that I haue reason to defend the other, and to giue thee my reasons for it. I say then, that to haue Scrivanos, or Notaries, (I may so terme them) to be a mans Gos­sips, is a bare title, that onely suites it selfe according to the Money, where­with euery one wageth Law. For in blearing the sight, and picking a mans purse before his face, some haue the soule and conscience of your Gypsies, and will make of Iustice a matter of iuggling, with a hye passe, and a repasse, come off Iacke with a whim-wham; ordering things so, as they shall thinke good, and may make most for their profit: so that it shall neither be in the power of the Plaintiffe or Defendant to impeach it, nor in the Aduocate to dispute the right, nor in the Iudge to sentence it.

And lest that I should chance to forget it, I pray, hearken by the way to that, which in the Church of S. Gil, in Madrid, was deliuered to the Lords of the supreme Councell, by a learned Preacher, vpon a certaine Friday in Lent. A discourse of a worthy Preacher against Notaries. By way of discourse, he ranne thorow all the ministers of Iustice, till he came to the Scrivano, or Notary, or Register, (or what in that kind you please to call him) which he purposely forbore to speake of, as reseruing that dish for the last seruice, and then with these words, he set it before them: Here my Cart stickes fast, and is so clogg'd with durt and myre, and so surrounded and wedged in, as it were, on euery side with filth and mucke, that I know not in the world how to get it out, vnlesse the Angell of God returne once againe to the fish-poole. I confesse (my Lords) that for these thirty yeeres and vp­wards, I haue seene and heard the Confessions of many sinners; who hauing falne into one sinne, haue falne againe many times into the same. And yet all these, (by Gods helpe, and his goodnesse and mercy towards them) haue re­formed both their liues and consciences, and become good liuers, and haue all put on amendment. The Wencher, that hath lyen at racke and manger, and stood at continuall Liuery, time, and a filthy Queane hath tam'd him. The Gamester, a Master of a Dicing-house, or Keeper of an Ordinary, makes him in the end to see his error; who like a Horse-leech, goes from one to another, sucking by little and little their blood from them. To day thou winnest, to morrow thou lofest; the money runnes round, and still it remaineth, but they that play, I am sure, remaine without it. The famousest Thiefe, feare and shame reformeth. The rash Railer, the The Spanish word perlesia, signifieth also Prelacie. As if the way to get preferment, were to rayle vpon Go­uern [...]ment. Palsie, from which few escape. The proud man, his owne miserie doth dis-deceiue him, being conscious to himself, that he is but durt. The Lyer, the ill language, and the affrents, which are daily cast in his teeth, put a bridle vpon his tongue. The vnaduised Blas­phemer, the continuall reprehensions of his friends and kinsfolkes correct and amend him. All these, either early or late, at one time or another, reape some fruit, and cast off (like the Snake) their old skinne, although perhaps (within) they wring hard for it.

[Page 9] In all, and euery one of these, haue I found some markes and signes of their saluation: Onely in the Scriuener, I misse in my account, and am quite out of my reckoning, nor doe I finde in him any amendment at all; but is iust the same man to day, that he was yesterday; this yeere, as he was thirty yeeres since; for he is still one and the selfe-same man: Nor doe I know to whom, or how he confesseth, nor who absolueth him: (I speake of him, who doth not faithfully exercise his Office) for they informe, and write downe that, which they thinke fit, and for two ducats, or to pleasure a friend, or to doe a shee­creature a courtesie (for your mantles, are great meddlers, and your women, not the worst sollicitours:) they take away this mans life, that mans honour, and a third mans wealth; setting the gate wide open to an infinit number of sinnes, in their insatiable couetousnesse, in their canine and dogge-like appe­tite, through the heate of that infernall fire that is in their soule: which makes them to swallow downe without chewing, bee it good or bad; right, or wrong, another mans goods. And because euer and anon, vpon euery slight occasion, they take that which is not their due; and for that the money that is put into the palmes of their hands, their fist beeing well greased therewith, is in an instant conuerted into flesh and bloud, and incorporated into one & the selfesame substance with themselues; they haue no more power to cast it off frō them, then they haue to shake off the World, or the diuell, who sit so close vnto them, that they can hardly be remoued. So that it seemeth vnto me, that when any such is saued, (for it cannot be, that all should bee such, as I haue heere taken vpon me to treat of) at his entrance into glory, the Angels fulfil­led with ioy, will cry out one to another, Laetamini in Domino, A Scriuener come into Heauen, new fruit, new. For Scriueners are not pomi Paradisi, such fruit growes not there: And with this he ended his Sermon. But let it passe and goe for currant, that some good may be wrought vpon a Scriuener, and that there may be some hope his soule may bee saued, by changing his former course of life; yet for all this, fall backe, fall edge, goe which way you will to worke with him, he will be well inough able to answere for himselfe, by A defence of Scri­ueners, though a weake one. laying an excuse vpon his faults (for iron also may be guilded) and then will he tell you that these are the rates of old, and that they take no more but their wonted fees, that victuals and other things grow still dearer and dearer, and the meanes to maintain them, worse and worse. That the Kings rents and pri­ces are variable; that they had not their Offices for nothing, but paid sound­ly for them; and therefore must licke himselfe whole as well as he can, sauing himselfe harmelesse out of other mens gettings: And that there is no reason but that he should bee well paid for the imployment of his person, and his paines taking. This hath been the course of all ages, and for ought I see, is like still so to continue: Howbeit, Aristotle tels vs, That the greatest wrong, that Aristotles saying. can be offered to a Commonwealth, is the sale of Offices.

And Cleomenes the Spartane, being demanded how a Kingdome might come to be happy, made answere, When a King should not respect his priuate pro­fit. A saying of Cleomenes. But for a Iudge that comes freely by his place, to whom, they haue giuen the Title of gracious Lord, in hope that he will doe the office of God, which Iudges are Gods. is, to doe Iustice, and to shew Mercy, (and therefore are called Gods vpon earth) that to such a one it should be imputed, that he sels Iustice; omitting to punish the bad, and to reward the good; and that hee will salue and couer a fault in a lewd fellow, or saue a notorious offender from the gallowes; I ab­solutely deny it, and proue this my proposition by plaine and euident Rea­sons. For who can thinke, that there should be in the world a Iudge so ill, so vnorderly, so impudent and so shamelesse (for such a one must he be, that will doe such things) tho a mountaine of gold should make his Mace, or rod of A bad Iudge, and his conditions. iustice to bend, and compell him to breake the Law? Howbeit, there are some abroad in the world, who sticke not to say, that this suing for Offices, [Page 10] and seates of Iustice, goes by certaine indirect pathes, and by-wayes, vnusuall courses out of the common track, & vn-accustomed; or (to speake more pro­perly) by false reports and forged Relations, whereof they make benefit, and grow thereby into great Estates. And after that they once grow warme in their places, & see that they are surely setled in them, they then make vp their stocke againe, and set vp for themselues, and begin to play their prizes, raking and scraping at whatsoeuer comes within their reach; like vnto the Polypus, A Fish that hath many feet wherewith to catch his prey. Deriued from the Greeke word [...], Multus & [...], pes. or Cuttle Fish, that hath many clawes (like so many Wyers) to catch his prey. There is not a pore, or ioynt in all his body, but is either a mouth to swallow, or a paw to take hold, if you once come within his clutches. Heere he seazeth on Wheat, there on Barley; heere Wine, there Oyle, besides flitches of Bacon, cloathes both woollen & linnen, silks of all sorts, Iewels, money; frō the Hangings in the dining Chamber, to stoope so low as the spice-boxe in the Kitchen; from the Masters-bed, to the Mules Cratch; from the purest wheat in the granarie, to the very straw and chaffe that lyes at the barnes doore, choosing rather to play at small game, then to sit out. From which terrible gri­ping, and violent hold-fast, nothing can vn-hitch them but deaths flesh-hooke. For, when the hand takes a bribe, and they once begin to be corrupted, there is no ho with them, they are marred for euer after by an euill vse, and neuer come to be good. And so they receiue with open hand all manner of Bribes, as if they were men in pay, and what they wrongfully take, were true wages, and lawfull fees. So, that they obserue not Iustice, they winke at theeues, be­cause they offer vnto them the first fruits and tithes of their thefts: they haue gotten the fauour of some Courtier, to beare them out in that, which they haue bought for their money: wherevpon they relying, cast away all feare of wresting and peruerting Iustice.

Thus is it, in all your Officers of Iustice, as well with your royall Mer­chant, as your Retayler; your Alcalde, as your Alguazil; your Iudge, as your Petty-fogger; with him that selleth in grosse, as him that selleth by retayle; your Iusticer is the Merchant; your Petty-fogger, the Pedler. And (for their better thriuing in the world) euery one hath his bonus Genius, or Angell of guard, either bought out-right for his money, (or at least so settled vpon him, that it can hardly be alienated from him,) for those impertinent necessities of the body; besides that, which God hath giuen them for those that import the Soule. So that they haue two Genij, (as men for the more surety wil haue two strings to their Bowe:) The Court Genius, which is the Protector of their bodily goods; and Gods good Angell, that is the Protector of their soules.

So that out of all this, you see something may be gathered, and happely a great part of it too true; yet for all this, we must not hence presume to con­clude of all: But he that shall fall through couetousnesse into the like basenesse, which perhaps may be one of a thousand, and the same some base-born Slaue, an ill-bred fellow, or of a vile and abiect minde, thou needest not wish him greater harme, or worse misfortune, then hath already lighted vpon him; for The punishment that an ciull Iudge receiueth. he carries with him his owne chastisement; He is pointed at (where-euer hee goes) with the finger; he is murmured at by men; he is abhorred of the An­gels; and both in publike, and in priuate, hath euery mans mouth against him: yet must we not for their sakes condemne the rest, or thinke all to bee made of the same lumpe. And if some particular person finde himselfe ag­grieued, and complaine, that he hath receiued hard measure, wise men will consider (as a thing to be necessarily presupposed) that suites of Law, being in number so infinit; in nature, so differing; and in their ends so diuerse and dif­ficile to be decided, it is not possible that one iudgement should content both sides; or one Iudge (though neuer so indifferent) please both parties. There will (while the world stands) be some querrulous men, either with, or with­out [Page 11] reason, haue they cause, or not cause. Therefore, thou must first weigh, and What he sho [...]ld doe, that [...] a suite in Law. consider well with thy selfe, that these things, (I meane your Law-suites) will require a great deale of care, a great deale of skill, and a great deale of cunning. And if thou be wanting to thy selfe in these thy diligences, and take not the right course, the blame will lye in thy selfe. Nor is it any maruell, Que pi [...]rdas tu derecho, no sabiendo hazer tu hecho: That for want of good informa­tion, thou shouldest lose thy right, and miscarry in thy suite, so that the fault is not so much the Iudges, as thine owne. But that the Iudge should de­ny to doe iustice, because many times hee does not giue sentence on his side, who perswades himselfe that he is in the right, it is because hee failes perad­uenture in his proofes, or for that his Aduersarie made a bad cause good, and the other a good cause bad, by the euill carriage of the businesse. (For much aduantage doth consist in the handling of a cause.) Or else through the negli­gence of the partie; or for that hee wants meanes and money to follow his suite; or for that his opposite is too powerfull for him. And therefore it is not good to taxe the Iudges, muchlesse those, that are seated in those higher Thrones, and superiour tribunall seates, where there are many good & choise men, euen the best that the Kingdome affoordeth. And suppose, some one Iudge or other out of passion, would rashly and vnaduisedly precipitate him­selfe, not caring which end went forward (be it right, or be it wrong,) yet the rest will not doe so, they beare a better minde, and will not sticke to withstand him to his face.

I remember that a Labuador in Granada, a good crafty Clowne, did (for his owne priuate profit) follow a suite very hard in open Court, against the Lord of the towne where he dwelt. Thinking with himselfe, that he had to doe with Pero Crespo, the Townes Alcalde, or Constable (if I may so stile him) of the Parish, and that he could haue drawne the Oydores, or Iudges (appoin­ted to heare his cause) by the eares, and led them along as hee listed; standing one day in the Plaça nueua, or the new-Market-place, gazing hard, & looking busily on the Porch, by which you enter into the Chancery, which is one of the famousest buildings (for it's bignesse) that is in all Spaine; and whereunto (for not onely the curiousnesse of the Arches and Vaults, but for the faire carriage of businesse) there is not any in these times knowne to be equall vnto it: after he had well viewed it, he perceiued that the Kings Armes that were placed in the Frontispice, had for it's two Supporters, Iustice, and Fortitude. Another Country fellow of his acquaintance, seeing him stand thus gaping as if hee had nothing to doe, asked him, why hee did not goe in to sollicite his busi­nesse? He told him, I begin to thinke with my selfe, that these things are not for me, and therefore I could wish my selfe at home againe. Why (quoth his friend?) Why, said he? because Iustice is heere seated so high, that it is in vaine A witty saying of a Country fellow. for me to looke to haue her stoope vnto me, and I am not able to reach vp vnto her, and therefore would I were well at home.

It is no maruell then (as I said before) that a Iudge doe not Iustice now and then to some men, though they haue Law on their side; but it would seeme somewhat strange, that a man should haue a sentence goe on his side, that hath not wit to defend his cause. But my father found sentence in his fauour, be­cause hee had beene beaten to those kindes of businesses, and knew the trace of them, and was well able to hold plea. Besides, when hee had the torment giuen him, and was put (as we heere tearme it) vpon the rack, he cleered him­selfe of those imputations that were laid vpon him, and attainted those wit­nesses that were brought against him of publike malice, prouing that they had deposed against him vpon idle and vaine presumptions, and vpon weake and feeble grounds.

But heere (mee thinkes) I heare a Murmurer muttering forth his malice, telling me, That my father had a very ill report: That hee curled his hayre, [Page 12] painted his face, and did diuers other things, which I passe ouer with silence, and willingly omit to speake of: That moneys were still stirring, and came tumbling in on euery side, besides gifts and presents, which comming from two opposite parties, continually crossed one another. Whereunto I may adde the sollicitation of women, who are not the worst Aduocates, or the least importunate Suitors. All which put together, leaue such a thorne or sting in my finger, that I dare not touch vpon them. O thou man of malediction, thou doest presse me too too hard, thou doest weary, & tyre me out; I purpose this bout onely, to giue thee the best satisfaction I can, and not to answer any more to thy replyes; for it were but to proceed in infinitum, and neuer to make an end, to waight vpon thy Sophistries, and friuolous questions. And therefore I doe not tell thee, that thou shootest at randome, speakest non sequi­turs, and such like things, wherein thou canst not preuaile as thou wouldst, nor make thy part good; for as much as the truth thereof is otherwise al­ready determined. Yet, when suites goe thus, they giue occasion of much mislike and offence; but there is no remedy, and we must bee contented with it, as things that can not sometimes bee possibly auoided: But God deliuer thee from such a Iudge, qui habet Legem in scrinio pectoris, that interpreteth the Law as hee listeth himselfe, and as his owne conceit shall leade him, ha­uing neither Text, nor Doctor on his side to make good that hee doth; and from a Notarie, that is thine enemy, or any other of those kinde of creatures, that are bribed: for they will falsifie orders for their profit, and register things otherwise, then they were reported in Court. But in case thou wilt be carried away with opinion, and the voice of the Vulgar, (which is euer­more Vox populi non modo est infirma, sed [...]p­sa insi [...]mitas, & morbus. the weakest, and least true, according to the subiect from whence it comes) tell me, not out of the peoples talke, (whereunto little credit is to be giuen) but to speake like a wise man, (out of thine owne discretion and iudge­ment,) whether all that which thou hast said, be sufficient to proue, that my Father was (vndoubtedly) faulty.

Besides, if it be the receiued opinion of some Physicians, that the vsing of Complexions, and such like slibber-slabbers, is a kinde of infirmitie and sick­nesse Against painting. in it selfe, who can say, whether my father were sound or no? And as for your curling of pates, crisping of haires, and other greater dishonesties, and vnseemelier sights then these, I doe not commend them; nor allow of those, who permit them in Spaine.

But that which I saw with mine owne eyes, for that time that I knew him, and was conuersant with him, I am able to tell thee what manner of man my Father was. Hee was of a faire complexion, ruddy, well coloured, cleane and soft, was the graine of his skinne, and his hayre curled, which on Omnium co­lorum homo. my conscience was naturall vnto him: He had a full eye, and that full of life, resembling in colour the watry Turquoys. He ware a foretop, and those his Locks, which ouerspred his Temples, to giue them the greater grace, curled themselues into rings of hayres. And if God had giuen him these colours, as prope [...] to him, was it fit (thinke you) that he should besoot his face with the same paintings? or is it likely, that he would make such slight reckoning of these faire pledges of Gods goodnes, & imbrace such counterfet stuffe to the ill example of others? But if it be true, as thou saist, that he made vse of oynt­ments, greasie ingredients, slabber-sawces, gals of beasts, and the like artifi­ces; and that those teeth, and hands, which did so much commend him, that all this, I say, should be done by the vertue of certaine Powders, Oxe-gals, Lees, Latherings, and other such sluttish and beastly confections, I shall then ingeniously acknowledge whatsoeuer thou shalt say of him, and shall be a ca­pitall enemy not onely vnto him, but to all those that shall practise the like. For besides, that they are effeminate actions, fitting onely wanton wenches, and light huswiues, they giue occasion to men, to murmure against them, and [Page 13] breed a iust suspition of basenesse in the vilest degree, when they shall see Painting had, both in a soule, & in a faire wo­man, but worst of all in a man. them thus dawbed ouer with clay, and wholly composed of those things that are onely permitted vnto women; who, because they haue not sufficient beauty of themselues, borrow it from paintings, and varnishings, to the great cost, both of their health, and purse. And (which to see, is a thousand pities) that your foule, and worst fauoured women, are not onely those that do this, but euen your fairest, and those that are most beholding to Nature: who thinking thereby to seeme fairer, and to make Nature appeare more louely in Arts dressing, begin this worke betimes in the morning in their bed, and finish it at noone, when the Cloth is layd. So that I say, (and not with­out reason) Que la muger, quanto mas mirare la cara, tanto mas destruye la casa: That a woman, the more curious she is about her face, the more carelesse she is about her house; the repairing of the one, being the ruining of the other. If this then (euen in women) be blame-worthy, how much more shall it bee in men? O filthinesse, aboue all other filthinesse! O affront, aboue all other af­fronts! that God hauing giuen thee one face, thou shouldst abuse his image, and make thy selfe another. Thou canst not twit mee in the teeth, that my loue to my father hath blinded me, or that my naturall affection to my Coun­try hath bribed me, nor shalt thou euer find me out of reason, or in ought that I shall say, to swerue from the truth. But if there be any discharge or satisfa­ction in a thing that is euil, I wil tel thee one curiositie, because it fals out patt for this place, and did succeed all, as it were about one and the selfe-same time. Dulce est so­cios habuisse dolorum. To thee it will serue for counsell; to me, for comfort, as a common [...]uill, that goes not without its fellowes.

In the yeere 1512. (a little before Rauenna was sack't) there were cruell warres in Italy. And in this very Citty, (I meane Rauenn.) there was borne a strange Monster, which did strike the beholders into great admiration and caused much wonder. He had from the girdle vpward, all his whole body, face, and head, like vnto a man, sauing that he had one horne in his forehead: he wanted his armes, but in stead thereof, Nature had giuen him two wings like a Bat: he had figured in his brest, the Pythagoricall (Y) and in his sto­macke downe to his belly, a well-formed Crosse, or Crucifix. He was an Her­maphrodite, both those two naturall Sexes, beeing in a very proportionable manner well and truly formed: he had no more but one thigh, and to it one legge with its foot like a Kites, and the tallons answerable thereunto. In the knotty part, or locking ioynt of the knee, he had one onely eye. These mon­strosities and vnnaturall shapes possessed mens minds with extraordinary ad­miration; and those that were learned men, and great Schollers, considering with themselues, that such monsters in nature were vsually prodigious, and did foretoken some strange effects, did beate their braines, and exercise the strength of their wit, in the speculation and search of the signification there­of, and what this strange Monster might portend. And amongst many other that were giuen, onely this that followeth, was well receiued amongst them: That the horne did signifie Pride, and Ambition; the wings, Inconstancie and Lightnesse: want of armes, want of good workes: the foot, of that bird of rapine, Theft, Vsury, and Auarice: the eye in the knee, affection to vani­ties and worldly things: the two Sexes, Sodomy, and beastly filthinesse; in all which vices, all Italy did then abound. For the which, God did scourge them with that his whip of warres and dissentions. But the Crosse and the Y were good and fortunate signes; for the Y in the brest did signifie Vertue: and the Crosse on the belly, that if men (suppressing their dishonest lusts of the flesh, should imbrace vertue in their brests, God would giue them peace, sweeten his displeasure, and abate his wrath.

You see here, (in a case prohibited) that when the whole current ran with a troubled water, my father followed along with the streame, and did as o­thers [Page 14] did, and was not the sole and onely offender. And therefore more wor­thy shalt thou be of blame, if thou shalt offend, hauing beene brought vp in a schoole of Christianity, and taught by example what to auoyd. God lend vs his helping hand, that we may not fall into other the like miseries: for all of vs, euen the best of vs, we are but men.

CHAPTER II.

BVT that I may returne againe to my Storie, I told you be­fore, (if my memory doe not faile mee) that (hauing per­formed his penance) my father came to Seuill for to reco­uer his debt; whereupon Law was waged, many offers made either to giue or take; some demands, and some an­swers: and if he had not thorowly purged himselfe for his health, and found an euasion; that is, if he had not well cleared himselfe of being a Renegado, it would haue broken out vpon him into the scurfe of the head, or the scratches in the pasternes; all the fat had lyen in the fire, and he had beene quite blowne vp. But he had wrought such a cure vpon himselfe, and handled the businesse so handsomely, that they could not catch hold of him for hauing the Leprosie, or the dry scab. All things were so well made vp, that they could not find a hole in his coate, or make any marke or white, to shoot at him; so well was he prouided for all commers. Meanes were vsed on both sides, composition offered, but not accepted; the one being vnwilling to Guzmans fa­ther compounds with his Credi­tors; growes rich, and takes his pleasure. pay all, the other as loth to lose all. Of this spilt water, hee gathered vp as much as he could, making the best of a bad bargaine. And with that which came to his share (be it what it will) it so well serued his turne, that the cards once more were dealt round againe, and he come into very good play. His in­comes were such, and his lucke so great, that in a very short time, hee gained not onely where-withall to dine, but also to sup. Hee built him a prety hand­some house, he sought to plant and settle himselfe in those parts, hee bought him land of inheritance; he had a Garden in San Iuan de Alfarache; a neat one it was, and of much recreation and pleasure, distant from Seuill little more then halfe a League; whither many dayes, especially in the Summer time, he went for his passe-time, and made many banquets. It happened, that the Merchants made a Burse or Pawne for their contractations at the stayres of the great Church, (like that of Saint Felipe at Madrid) with a place to walke in, which went round about it, hauing a Parapet or Wall brest-high on the outside of it, to separate it from the open street, girt in with great Marble pil­lars, and strong chaines of yron. My father walking there with other Mer­chants, there chanced a Christening to passe by. And (as the talke there went) this child was said to be the secret sonne, or (to speake plaine English) bastard to a certaine person, that shall be namelesse. My father followed in the tayle of the troope, and entred in after them euen to the very Font, for to see and view my mother▪ who with a certaine old Knight of the military habit, (who Guzmans [...]o­ther and [...] w [...]man: Her condition. for to maine the honour of his Order, liued by the Rents of the Church) were Partners in this Ceremonie: it was a metall'd thing, a lusty liuely wench, yet graue enough withall; her carriage was very gracefull, and full of [Page 15] courtesie, her selfe young; beautifull, discreet, modest, and of a well compo­sed and settled behauiour. Her handsome feature needes no other commen­der, then it selfe. He stood steddily looking vpon her, all the while that the Exercise of that Sacrament gaue him leaue so to do, beeing astonisht to be­hold so rare a beauty, if not besotted with it. For, to that her naturall beauty of face, and feature of body, (without any tricking or painting at all) all was so curious and fitly placed thorow that whole frame of nature, that one part helping another, and all put together into one piece, did make such a delicate contexture, that no pensill can reach to expresse its perfection; nor imagina­tion conceiue, how to make it better. The parts, and fashion of my father, I haue already largely laid open vnto you: this goodly creature, (for they seeme gods and not men, who are not touched with naturall affections) be­gan to perceiue his earnest eying of her, and did not a little reioyce in it, how­soeuer she did dissemble it. For there is not any woman, (though neuer so Women loue to be eyed, and to be lookt vpon. proud, be she of high or low degree) but does take comfort, and chucke for ioy, to be beheld and looked vpon with an hungry eye, be the man neuer so base, neuer so meane. Their eyes being their interpreters, though their tongues were silent, spake plaine language each to other: manifesting by them their hearts; for soules on such occasions do not admit of maskes, neither will wil­ling minds yeeld to the vaile and muffler. For that time, there passed no more betwixt them, nor ought else done, saue onely that he came to know, that she was that Knights Pawne; his iewel, his delight, a morsell that he kept for his owne mouth, ouer whom he was wondrous wary, and so tenderly affected, that he could scarce indure to haue her out of his sight. In fine, this Gentle­woman went directly home to her house, and my father was at his wits end, not knowing in the world how to put her out of his mind. He vsed, that hee might come to the sight of her againe, many extraordinary diligences: but, vnlesse when she went foorth to Masse vpon some solemne Feast-dayes, he could not otherwise see her for a long time together.

The often falling drop, hollowes the hardest stone that is; and stedfast per­seuerance still gets the victory: for continuance crowneth our actions, and disposeth them to their intended ends. Hee plodded so long on the matter, that he found out a tricke to serue his turne, vsing the meanes of a good old beldame, a reuerent Matron forsooth, an honest Bawd, one of my charitable Aunts: for such ministers as these doth the Diuell set aworke, and employ in his seruice; with which secret Mynes, he ouerturnes the strongest towers of the chastest women: for that they may better themselues in their rayment, seeking to gaine a widowes habit, a Huke, or a Mantle, and that their little Caskets may be stored with Boxes of Marmalet; there is no trecherie which A Bawde, and her condition. they will not attempt; no filthinesse, which they will not sollicite; no blood, which they will not draw foorth; no chastity, which they will not spot; no cleannesse, which they will not fully; no wickednesse which they will not bring to passe. This good creature then, being courted by him with words, and rewarded by him with deeds, went and came to and fro with papers: And because the Principles, as they are the first, so the hardest to learne; and because the greatest difficultie consists in the beginning; and for that, Loaues go aside, if they be not well set into the Ouen, she molded the businesse well, vsing the best sleights she had. And because my father had heard of old, That Money ouercome all difficulties, especially with women. money leuelleth the greatest difficulties, and makes all things plaine and ea­sie, he did euer manifest his faith by his workes, because they should not con­demne it to be dead and fruitlesse. He was neuer negligent, nor yet no nig­gard. He began (as I told you) by this womans hand, to sow the seeds of his loue, and prodigally to spend vpon my mother; and they both, very willing­ly, and very cheerefully, are ready to receiue all. And because vnto goodnes, gratitude is so due a debt; and that he who receiueth, is bound to a requitall, [Page 16] and euery courtesie deserues its acknowledgement This good mother of mis­chiefe did play her part so well, grew such a good Sollicitor, and followed the businesse so close, that her diligence meeting in a happy coniuncture, with the forwardnesse of my Mothers will, she still went adding more fuell to the fire; and of a little light stubble, raised in a short time a terrible flame. As we see many times, ieasting turned into earnest; and things full often to end in sober sadnesse, which at the first, were but begun in ieast.

My Mother (as ye haue already heard) was a discreet woman; faine shee would, but durst not; she had a good mind to the businesse, but yet she was a­fraid: she was sometimes on, sometimes off; her owne heart was the Oracle of her desires; with that she consulted often, what were best to do. And thus disputing pro and con with herselfe, ya lo tenia de la haz, ya delenues. Somtimes (as we see in the handling of Stuffes, or of Cloth) she was on the right, some­times on the wrong: one while she would put on a full resolution to doe thus and thus; by and by againe, she would turne to a new Coniugation, and vary the Mood she was in before. In conclusion, whom will not siluer win? whom will not gold corrupt? This Knight was an elderly man, much subiect to spitting, spalling, and coughing, he was troubled with the Stone, with sharpnesse of his Vrine, and other the like infirmites: she had seene him full oft by her sweet side in the naked bed; where he did not appeare the man my father was, he had not that vigour, nor liuelinesse, nor that handsomenesse of shape and proportion. And besides, obserue it while you liue, and you shal euermore find it to be true, That long acquaintance, and much conuersation, (where Gods feare is not) breeds wearisomnesse, and loathsomenesse at the last. Nouelties please all, especially women, who are louers of flim-flam Nouelties please women. tales, and for the receiuing and returning of newes; like vnto Materia pri­ma, which neuer ceaseth to desire and seeke after new Formes. She was resol­ued to haue forsaken the old Knight, to shift her of her old clothes, to change her smocke, and was fully bent to fly out, and to breake loose, whatsoeuer came of it: but her great wisedome, and long experience, which was heredi­tary vnto her, and suckt from her mothers teat, opened the way, and presen­ted A woman, wise in wickednesse, what one she is. vnto her an ingenious resolution. And questionlesse, the feare of losing her pension, kept her aloofe off, the thought whereof much perplexed her for the present, who otherwise was of her selfe well egged forward, and had a good mind to the game. For what lesson my Father read but once vnto her, the Diuell repeated the same ten times ouer; so that it was no such great mat­ter now to winne Troy; there was likelihood inough to take it in lesse then ten yeeres.

My good Mother casts vp her account, and made this reckoning with her selfe: In this particular, my person loseth nothing, I sell no houshold stuffe, I waste none of my goods; and though in this kind, I affoord much kindnesse to others, I am therein like vnto the Candle, or the Sunne in its brightnesse, though I lend light vnto others, I haue nothing the lesse my selfe: I shall not want awhit in my estate, but be rather still at the full. Of whom I haue recei­ued so many courtesies, so many gifts, it is fit, I should in some sort shew my selfe thankfull, and not be sparing to him, that hath beene so bountifull to me. Shall I be couetous, when he is so liberall? God forbid. I am now resolued what to do: I will sow my bagge at both ends, my iawes shall grind on both sides, my chaps shall walke euery way; and the better to secure my shippe, I will haue two anchors to one bottome; that if I should chance to lose the one, I might still haue another remaining to serue my turne. And if the mansion-house should hap to fall, yet if the Doue-house hold vp, if that stand fast, we shall lacke no Pigeons, as long as there is a Louer-hole for the poore fooles to get in at.

Hauing taken these things into her consideration, she treated with this her [Page 17] bawdy Embassadresse, how, and when it might be; the manner, how; and the time when. But finding (after long consultation) that it was impossible to effect her desires in her owne house, and that there was no good to be done at home, for to enioy each other freely, & to take that fulnesse of content, which must satisfie the hungry mawes of greedy Louers, amongst many other shifts and tricks, and very good and witty deuices, and strange plots, which they had laid their heads about, for the better successe in the businesse, they made choyse of this which followeth.

The Spring had so farre aduanced it selfe, that May was in it's ending, and the Summer was now making his entrance. And the Village of Gelues, and that of Alfarache, a place of recreati­on neere vnto Seuill: And it's rare pleasures. San Iuan de Alfarache, are now the sweetest and the pleasantest of all that bordring Territory, none thereabouts was like vnto them; besides, the fertilen [...]sse and goodnesse of the soyle (which is all one with that of Seuill, as next neighbour vnto it) which that Riuer of Guadal­quibir is a fa­mous Riuer, which thwarteth all Andaluzia: it empties it selfe into the Sea, neere to San Lucar de Bar­rameda. It is a great Riuer, whose head rises in the Sierra de Sigura, or Alcaçar, anci­ently called Ta­bigensis: from whese spring-head, to the Sea, it runnes more then 60. Leagues; it's ancient name was Betis: from whence that Pro­uince is called Betica, of Be­tus the 6. [...]. of Spaine. Or from the Greeke word [...], which signifies Deepe. Some say it is a Ch [...]ldee word, and signifies a House. For that it is the receptacle whither al other Riuers enter in, as into a house. Some call it Thuria, of [...], which signifies, impetu­ous, proud, &c. Vide Couarru­uias, and Este­ban de Garrib. l. 5. c. 4. fol. 128. Guadalquibir, makes the more famous. whose watry gullets purling along the bankes, in-rich and adorne all those gardens and fields, that confine thereupon: so that with reason (if there may be a knowne Paradise vpon earth) sure the name thereof properly ap­pertaines to this particular seate: So fairely is it set forth with shadow-cast­ing trees, so beautified with curious bowers, so richly inameled with sundry sorts of flowers, so abounding with sauoury fruits, so accompanied with siluer-running streames, with cleere springs, glasse-labour-sauing fountaines, fresh ayres, and delightsome shades, whereinto the beames of the Sunne are at that time denied their entrance, and haue not permission so much as once to peepe in. At one of these retiring roomes of recreation, my mother agreed with her marriage-maker; her Sine qua, non; and some of the people of her house, to come one day thither to make merry. And albeit the place, whi­ther they were to goe, was not that which my father was owner of, but was somewhat beyond it, neerer vnto Gelues; yet of force they must, to goe thi­ther, passe close by our doore.

Vpon this care taken, and former agreement concluded betweene them, iust about the time that she was to come neere vnto our garden gate, my Mo­ther began presently to complaine of a sudden and grieuous paine in her sto­make, imputing the cause thereof to the coldnes of the morning, and the freshnesse of the weather, and did so cunningly dissemble the pangs and gri­pings she indured, that they were faigne to take her downe from her Xamuga. A womans saddle with a Chaire. Xa­muga, which for her more ease in her iourney, was borne by a pretty little, but sure-footed A Sardini­an Asse, of all Asses, is the least. A notable subtilty of Guzmans Mother, for the inioying of his Father, before she came to bee his Wife. Sardinian Asse. She feigned such extremities of torture, made such pittifull faces, and such wofull gestures (holding her hand as hard as shee could for her life vpon her belly, crushing and wringing it with all the might and maine she could:) then would she let them loose againe, then claspe them together, and wring each finger through anguish of her paine: other-while she would hang the head, as if she were fainting and ready to swoune; and that fit past, fetching a deepe sigh or two, she fell to vnlacing and vnbracing her selfe, that all that were about her (saue those that were priuy to the plot) did veri­ly beleeue that she was wonderfully and mightily tormented, that shee made them to melt into teares, and to haue a compassionate feeling of this her af­fliction. Diuers passengers chanced in the interim to come by, and euery one proposed his remedy; so many men, so many medicines; but because they knew not for the present where to haue the things that should be applyed, nor where to haue a fit place for to minister vnto her, their medicines were impertinent, and to no purpose in the world. To goe backe vnto the Citie, it was impossible; to goe further forward, dangerous; and to abide thus in the high-way, not commodious. Her fits increased, all stood amazed, as not knowing what to doe, nor what course to take. At last, one amongst the rest, that was there (who was laid there for the purpose) breakes mee in amongst [Page 18] them, and as he passes the presse, cryes, Roome for the passion of God, make way there, stand farther off, lest you stiffle her for want of ayre. Come, let vs take her, and remoue her out of the high way; it were cruelty, not to seeke to cure her, and a thousand pitties, that so sweet a creature should bee cast away, for want of care and good looking to. Come, let vs take her in our armes, and put her into this garden house heere hard by, in this case we must be content to take that which comes next to hand.

All approued what hee said, his motion was applauded, and so generally well liked, that it was presently concluded amongst them, That vntill that fit were ouer-past, they should craue leaue of those that kept the house, to giue her entrance, not doubting but she would bee much the better, if they could be but so happy as once to get her within the doores. They knockt hard and thick, (as men vse to doe when they are in haste;) the good woman that kept the house, made show as if she thought her Master had been there: and as she came waddling along, bawled to her selfe: O good God, is it you, Ma­ster? O sweet Iesus! I pray bee not angry, that I came no sooner, I was very busie, I could not doe withall, I came as soone as I could. These and the like excuses, her vnprofitable chaps mumbled to her selfe.

The old Hagge knew well enough what she had to doe, she might goe in the ranke of those rude Countrie wenches, that make curtsey, and cry, No chero, no sabo; No forsooth not I, I am a poore silly old Woman, seeming as if she did not know how to say B. to a battle-doore. Yet was she a dissembling Hil­ding, a crafty old Carrion, one that had learned her lesson before-hand, and receiued her instructions from my father, so that shee was well prepared for the businesse. Besides, she was no Dullard, and for such kinde of imploy­ments she was no Baby, but vnderstood very well in such seruices as these what was fit to be done.

And herein (amongst other things) the rich haue this aduantage of the The differen [...]e betwixt the poore end the rich Master. poore, That euill seruants will not so easily come to the beck and bend of a poore Master, as well-disposed seruants will be ouer-awed by a rich Master, and wonne to his lewd commands. The poore man, (though he be neuer so honest) yet must he yeeld sometimes to the violent disposition of his wilfull and head strong seruants; whereas honest Country-Swaines, ouer-comman­ded by their rich Land-lords, become Ministers to their lustfulnesse. So that the poore (though neuer so good) hauing ill seruants, are seruants to their seruants. And the rich (though neuer so bad) by beeing serued with good ser­uants, are the onely men that are well serued.

My good old Woman had by this time opened the gate, and either not well remembring, or making show as if she had not knowne them, full of dissimulation, she fell thus vpon them: What a stirre, what a knocking is heere? The Diuell take you all for me; beshrew me, if I did not thinke it had beene our Master. The very feare whereof, lest I might haue stayed too long before I let him in, hath not left me one drop of bloud in all my body. It's ve­ry well, what's the matter now, I pray? What would you with me? What is your Worships pleasure? Haue you any thing to say to mee? If you haue, let me know your minde, that I may make an end and goe about my businesse; for I haue something else to doe then to stand thus idly heere.

Then the old Knight answered, and said; Good woman, I pray afford vs some place in your house, where this Gentlewoman may rest her selfe a while: for a grieuous paine in her stomake, hath befalne her heere vpon the way: she, that kept the house, seeming to resent her paine, and to be much grieued for it, in her rude rusticke manner, sorrowfully replyde:

Now a mischiefe on all such ill lucke! O what a griefe it is to see, that any paine should proue so vnhappy, as to be thus ill imploy'd vpon so sweet a face, such a dainty bed of red and white Roses! Come in a Gods name, come in, I [Page 19] pray, for all the house is at your seruice. My Mother, all this while, said not so much as one word, onely she complained of her griefe.

The good old Wench of the house, vsing her with all the kindnesse her Country-fashion could afford, gaue them the liberty of the whole house, bringing them into a lower roome, where, in a well-furnisht bed, there were certaine Colchones, or Mattresses; these shee presently vnfolded, and hauing A Colchone, is a kinde of Mat­tresse, quilted with Wooll, and basted with Thread, that the Wooll may not slide and grow into Knots. spred them forth, and made all things fit and handsome, she presently opened a Chest, whence she tooke out a very fine payre of sheetes, that were neat and sweet, a faire Quilt, and a couple of Pillowes; wherewith shee dressed vp a bed, and made it ready for her to take her rest in. Well might the bed haue beene made, the roome kept cleane, all places sweetned with the burning of perfumes, breathing forth Pomanders, and other the like odoriferous sents, and a breakefast prouided, and many other dainties and delicacies put in a readinesse for to entertaine them withall. All these things, I say, might well haue beene made ready before-hand; but it was thought fit, that some of them should not be prepared; as also that the woman that kept the house, should not come at the first knocking, as likewise that the gate should be shut against them, and not be opened vntill they called, that it might not seeme to bee a set match, and lest it might chance to breed some suspition, and so the stra­tagem The Spanish word Eneami­sada, signifies a [...]ratagem; bor­rowed from the wearing of shirts vpon their Ar­mour, thereby to surprize the enemy on the sud­den, and to bee distinguished frō their enemies. It is also a Maske, or Mummery. might be discouered, and the maskers made known; for this dayes plot was meerely no other thing. My Mother, in this her pittifull paine, put off her cloathes, got her to bed, and called euer and anon for warme cloathes; which being brought vnto her, making as if she had laid them to her belly, she thrust them lower beneath her knees, and somewhat apart from her, because the heat of them did somewhat offend her, fearing lest they might cause some remotion or alteration in her body, whereby qualmes might arise and wea­ken her stomake: With the helpe of these warme Napkins, she found her selfe much eased, and feigned she had a desire to sleepe, hoping she should bee the better after she had taken some rest.

The poore old Knight, whose chiefest ioy consisted in giuing her content, hauing placed all his happinesse in her welfare, was (honest Cuckold as hee was) wonderfully glad of this, and left her all alone in her naked bed. And hauing made fast the doore after him, that none could get in to trouble her, he went forth to recreate himselfe in those Gardens belonging to the house, charging his people to make no noise, and that none should come neere the doore, enioyning stilnesse and silence, and that none of them should dare to open it, till they had farther order from him, or that he came himselfe: And for that honest woman of the house, he willed her that she should watch by her, till she awaked, and that then she should come and call him. My Father in the meane while was not asleepe, but stood with attention hearkening to what was said, and lay peeping out through the Key-hole (like one that lyes in Ambuscado) of a certaine back doore, belonging to a little close closet, whi­ther he had retired himselfe, till he could spy his time of aduantage for to sally forth, and surprize that desired fort, which he had long since so cunningly vn­dermined.

Now, when all was husht and quiet, and that her owne Nurse that came with her, and that other old Bawd of the house, stood like two Sentinels vpon their Watch, ready vpon all occasions, to giue quicke aduice, by a certaine secret signe, which might serue in stead of a watch-word, when the old Knight should make head that way, then did my father issue out at that posterne, or little back-doore of his, that he might see, and conferre with his Mistresse. And at that very instant did her feigned pangs cease, and those truer ones of loue began to manifest themselues, giuing other kinde of twinges, and those kinder for the place affected. In this swelling kinde of sport they continued two long houres, two yeeres being not sufficient to [Page 20] expresse those passages that were betwixt these two new Louers in this their merry fit.

Now the day began to grow hot, and was entring more and more into his heates, which forced the Knight to make his retreat towards the house. Which he did the more willingly, out of the desire which he had to know how his sicke Saint did, whether she were any thing better, and whether they should stay there, or goe forward, or what they were best to doe, these were the lines that led him along to visit her. Vpon his marching thither­ward, the Sentinels shot off a warning peece: and my father with great sorrow of heart forsooke the Fort, where hee had set vp his Standard, and retyred backe to his Court of guard, and shut himselfe vp close, where he was before.

Vpon the entring in of her old Gallant, she made show as if she had beene fast asleepe, and was awakened with the noise that hee had made. And with a bended browe, and angry looke, casting her eye a-skew vpon him with a coynesse of language, she turn'd aside from him, accenting her words in a pretty kinde of mournefull fashion, pittying as it were and bemoning her selfe; Ay me; God helpe me. Why (alas) haue they opened the doore so quickly? Was there no care, no loue to be showne vnto me, in letting mee sleepe a little longer? I thought you, of all others, would not haue put me out of so sweet a slumber. But tis no matter, I shall one day; and with that shee sigh'd, and stop'd, as if she had some-thing else to say, studying more to amuze him, then to declare her selfe.

This good old Knight of ours, this patient peece of flesh, gently made an­swere: By those eyes of thine, then which I adore nothing more, I did not thinke to wake thee, it grieues me (pretty soule) that I haue done thee that wrong; yet hast thou slept full two houres and more. Two houres? (replide my Mother:) no, nor yet halfe an houre: me thinkes it is but euen now that I beganne to shut mine eyes, and in all my life, I neuer had so quiet and con­tented a napp, for that little while that it lasted; (nor did she lye in all that she said, for she gulled him with a matter of truth:) and looking with somewhat a more cheerefull countenance vpon him, she much commended the remedy which they had giuen her; telling them, that they had giuen her her life.

The old Knight was glad to see so much comfort come from her. And by consent of both parties, they agreed to celebrate their feast there, and to passe away as merrily as they could the remainder of that day, for that Gar­den was no lesse pleasant, then that whither they intended to haue gone. And because their people were not farre off, that had the charge of their prouisi­on (for the other house was hard by) they sent to them to bring back their dinner thither, and such other things, as they had brought along with them.

Whilest this businesse was a-doing, my Father found fit opportunity to get out secretly at the other gate, and to returne backe to Seuill: where, euery houre, was a thousand yeeres; a moment, an Age, and the time of his absence from his new Loue, a present Hell.

Now, when the Sunne was in his declining, which was about fiue in the Euening, mounting vpon his Gennet, as if it had been but his ordinary walke, he came to visit this his house. Wherein he found these gallants, he bid them welcome, and told them he was very glad to see them there, onely hee was sorry for the mishap, which caused their stay. For he no sooner came in, but they told him all that had past. His carriage was courteous; his voice lowd and shrill, but not very cleere: He made them many discreet, and faire offers, (for hee had learned a little Courtship) and they on the other side, remained no whit in his debt for kinde words: So that in the end, there was a great League of friendship professed and confirmed betweene them in publike; but a stricter tye in secret, betwixt my Father and his Mistresse, [Page 21] for the good pawnes and pledges of Loue, that had lately past between them.

But there is a difference betweene Loue, Friendship, and Good-will The difference that is betwixt Loue, Friend­ship, and Good-will. Good-will, is that, which I may beare to one that I neuer saw in all my life, nor had any other knowledge of him, then that I haue heard of his vertues, or of his noble disposition, or some other worthy parts in him, which makes me to wish him well, and drawes my affection by a violent kind of motion as it were, to follow after him.

Friendship, we call that, which is commonly concluded betwixt man and man, or one friend with another, vpon some long Treaty or Communication, Similiancie in condition, or some other pledges of loue, and reall courtesies, that haue passed betweene them: so that Good-will, is said to bee betweene those that are absent; and Friendship, betweene those that are present. But Loue runnes by another kind of course; it steeres by another Compasse. That must of force be reciprocall, a commutation of hearts, a copy or counterpane of interchangeable kindnesse, a translation of two soules, where each striues with other with all their might and maine, to assist there more, where it loues then where it liues. And this takes its perfection from its obiect; the perfecter the obiect, the perfecter the Loue: but the truest Loue of all is di­uine Loue. And therefore we are to loue God aboue all things, with all our True Loue, what it is. heart, with all our strength, and with all our soule, seeing that he so much lo­ueth vs. Next vnto that, is your Amor coniugalis, that Loue which is be­tweene a man and his wife, and then that which is betwixt neighbour and neighbour, or one friend towards another. For lewd Loue, and that which What lewd Loue is. is dishonest, (whose ground growes not from Vertue) is not worthy of this name of Loue, as being of a bastard-brood.

But hap what may hap, come what will come, fall backe, or fall edge; wheresoeuer this lewd loue raigneth, there are all your Witchcrafts, as no where in the world more; there your inchantments, there your Sorceries. This lewd loue is that, which (like another Circes) alters the conditions of men, aduentureth thorow all difficulties, and makes them easie; it is that a­lone which tameth the strongest and fiercest Lyons. For to say, that there are Philtra, amorous potions, poysons of loue, and the like baits and trickes to force affection, it is all false: for this alone, is sufficient of it selfe to turne a mans braines, to peruert his iudgement, to take away his life, to confound his memory, to draw on diseases, and to occasion sundry shrewd fits either of melancholy, or of madnesse. Loue ought to be free, and to haue the libertie Loue ought to be free. and power to consigne, & deliuer ouer al the faculties of the soule to the thing beloued. For the Alcayde, or Gouernour of a Castle, cannot be sayd to giue vp the Castle, when as by force it is taken from him; so hee, that shall make loue by indirect and euill meanes, it cannot be truly said that hee loueth, but that he is forced (contrary to his better will) and violently carried away with that eager passion of lust and sensualitie, which like a head-strong beast beares a man on headlong to his destruction.

The conuersation went forward, Cards are call'd for, and to play they go. Their game was Primera at three hands; my mother, she got the money, for my father was willing to lose to her: and it beginning now to waxe night, they gaue off play, and went out into the garden to take the ayre. In the meane while, the Cloth was layd, and their supper brought in, and set on the boord: they sit downe, they eate, and haue sup't. And hauing giuen order against after supper, that a Barge should be made ready for them, and tricked vp with fresh Flagges, and greene Boughs: when they came to the water side, they tooke Boat, and were no sooner lanched foorth into the channell, but they might heare from other Vessels, which went to and fro vpon the riuer, sundry Consorts of all sorts of Musicke, which made a most melodious sound; being an vsuall and ordinary thing with them, in such a place, and such a time [Page 22] as that was, being in that season of the yeere that was fittest for it. In this manner they were brought along, till at last they landed; and being now come into the city, they tooke their leaues: euery one betaking himselfe to his owne home, and his owne bed, saue onely my fathers contemplatiue pate, whose rouing head was so full of fancies, that it could take no rest. My mo­ther too, (like another Melisendra) full of musing and thoughtfull loue, slept with her bedfellow, her old Consort; her body beeing prisoner in Sansuenna, and her soule a slaue in Paris; her corps in one place, and her mind in another.

From that day forwards, such a strong knot of friendship was there knit Guzmans fa­thers craftie condition. betweene them, and continued with so much discretion and good cunning, (considering their ouer-venturousnesse, and the danger they might run into) as could possibly be presumed from the quaint wit, and close conueyance of an Easterling, dyed into a Genouese, and dipt in the Vat of Vsury, who knew well inough, how to put out his money to the best profit; who could cleare you any account, could liquidate and diuide you to an haire, how much losse there was in measure, from the wastings that arose from the winnowing, and cleansing of corne; how many graines lost in the refining of such a proportion or quantity of Metall; nay, she could tell you to a crumme, how much losse there was in an hundred doozen, betweene the bread that was broken with the hand, and that which was cut with the knife. As likewise from a wo­man The disposi [...]on of Guzmans mo­ther. of that good talent, and those gifts and conditions, which I haue here­tofore acquainted you withall, it is inough (if I say no more) that she was an Andaluz, borne in the towne of Seuill, and bred vp in that good schoole, where she prooued so good a proficient, that shee ranne thorow the whole course of her Art, and did all her Exercise for her Degree of a Whore; which she had laudably taken, by making her appointments betweene the two Quires, and the Naves, or Isles of the old Church. Now my mother had her fits and flings before this time; this was not her first flying out, insomuch, that not hauing any thing of her owne in her owne hands, that was woorth the keeping, that very day that she compounded with this old Knight for her company, and had driuen her bargaine with him, she swore vnto me, that she put ouer in trust aboue 3000. Ducats, onely in Iewels of gold and Plate, besides the moueables of her house, and her change of apparell for the setting foorth of her person.

The time (we see) weares away, and we must weare with it: that runnes from vs, and we must follow after it. Euery day that opens, discouers new things; and with the rising of the morning, arise new alterations. And let vs labour, and do all that we can, we may not be excused, nor can the flower of our youth escape in its due time the cutting Sythe of Death. For there is not the shortest moment that passes, that doth not shorten somewhat of our life. And the older still we grow, the neerer we are to our graue. The good old Knight (as formerly you haue heard) was an ancient man, and of a feeble An old man, [...]n­fit for a young woman. body: my mother, young, faire, and full of wit, and knew so well how to prouoke his appetite vpon all occasions, that his disorder opened the doore to his death; for the old Lad, by ouer-doing himselfe, hastened his owne end. First, his stomacke began to faile him, then was he taken with a paine in his head, after that followed a burning Feuer, which after some few fits began to leaue him; but though that ceased, he had neuer awhit the more mind to his meate, he could eate nothing: so by little and little hee consumed away, and after some few puls, he died. My mother not being able to restore him to life, though she would euer sweare vnto him, that she was his life, and he hers: But all that protestation proued to be but a lie; for he was buried, yet she still liued.

The old Knight left many kinsmen behind him in the house, when he dy­ed, but none of them of the same sute with my selfe, though they colour'd for [Page 23] it; onely my mother and I sorted well together: as for the rest, they were p [...]n de diezmo, cada vno de la suya: like the bread, that the people offer vp to the Priest; euery one with a different deuice, or contrary marke, that his loafe may be knowne from others. That good old Gentleman, (God be with him, The actions of Guzmans mo­ther. and haue mercy on his soule) had but little comfort in this life; and at the time of his death, they on the one side, my mother on the other, while the breath was yet in his body, pull'd the linnen from vnder him, leauing him a soule in his body, but not a sheet in his bed: so that the sacking of Antwerpe (which for the cruelty thereof is growne into a Prouerbe) compared with this, was not halfe so rigorous, nor halfe so inhumane as this: and all (forsooth) for feare of a Sequestration to haue the goods deposited. But my mother, as she churned the milke, so she was her owne caruer; she was the Taylor to cut out her owne coat, and the worker of her owne fortune. Shee found a time not long after to put her hands there, where her heart was long before, and fell to fingring of his mony. For she had the chiefest of all his goods in her owne keeping vnder locke and key, and was Mistris of all that was woorth the ha­uing. But seeing her selfe in danger, and fearing to be put to her iumpes, shee thought it better to steale, then to begge; and like a thiefe to make a start out of a bush, then hereafter to aske an almes for Gods sake. They were so nimble on all hands, that there was scarce inough left where-withall to bury him.

Some few dayes were scarce ouer-past, but many diligences were vsed, for to make these his goods appeare. They set vp Excommunications at the Churches, and vpon mens doores, to try if that would do any good, and make the purloyners to bring in the goods: but all to small purpose; for hee that steales, seldome returnes to make restitution. But my mother made her ex­cuse, saying; That the Knight (God be with him) would still tell her, when he came to visit his moneys, and ran ouer his Coffers and his Cabinets, or had brought any thing into the house; This is thine, (sweet heart) it is all for thee. So the Lawyers were of opinion, that with this she might very well sa­tisfie her conscience. Besides, they affirmed, that it was a due debt, and pro­perly belonged vnto her; for though she gain'd it ill, yet it was not receiued ill. And howbeit the Act were not lawfull, yet the Compact was iustifiable. It was not lawfull for her to play the whore, yet might shee by Law haue what­soeuer was promised her for the vse of her body.

In this mans death, I found that to be verified, which I had often heard before; That rich men dye of hunger, poore men of surfets, and those which Rich men dye of hunger. haue no Heyres, and enioy the goods of the Church, of cold: So that this man may serue herein for an Example. For whilest he was yet liuing, they left him not so much as a shirt, saue only that which he wore on his backe, which of courtesie they were content he should carry out of the world with him. Rich men, for feare they should be sicke with eating too much, to auoyd hurt, hurt themselues; since by eating by ounces, and drinking by thimble-fuls, they liue by drams; dying rather out of hunger, then their disease. Poore men, Poore men dye with ouer-eating themselues. in that they are poore, euery man takes pitie of them; one sends, another brings to them, & all of all sorts, and from all parts repaire vnto them, to giue them reliefe, especially when they are in that extremity. And when they find themselues leane and hunger-staru'd, they make no good choyce of their feeding, for want of some discreet bodie that should administer vnto them, and order them in their dyet: whereupon they eate so much, and glut them­selues so full, that they cannot digest their meat for want of naturall heat, and so choaking themselues with ouer-gorging their pannels, they meerely die surfeited.

The like happeneth likewise in your Hospitals, where some deuout fooles, tender-hearted women, who go thither to visit them out of meere deuotion, stuffe their pockets and their sleeues full of banquetting-stuffe to carry along [Page 24] with them, sending their seruants laden with baskets of regalo's, and delicate choice Dainties. And thinking therein to do an almes-deed, out of them cha­rity, they kill them for Gods-sake. In my opinion, this ought not to be suffe­red, but this cost should rather be bestowed vpon the sicknesse, then the sick, and be put into their Keepers hands, that are sworne to haue a due care of them: for by that meanes, (hauing the counsell of some learned Physician) these things shall be better distributed in their proper place, and make more for their good: And to doe otherwise, may proue hurtfull and dangerous. And in this their ill-dispensed charity, not weighing the good, nor the hurt; the season, nor the sicknesse; whether it be fitting, or not fitting, they cramme their crawes, like so many Capons in a Coope, till they can swallow no more, and so die of the throttle. Hencefoorth therefore, let it be ordained, that such things as these, be giuen to those which minister vnto them, who know bet­ter how to dispose of them, or let it be giuen in money, for to supply other their greater wants and necessities.

O what a gentle disparate, what a pretty absurdity is this of mine, yet well grounded in Diuinity? how am I leapt from the Oare to the Helme? What A remo, ad clauum & gu­bernaculum Nauis: A Me­taphor from Gal­ley-slaues. a Saint Iohn the Euangelist am I become on the sudden, that I reade you such a Lecture? The Ouen grew hot, my zeale was kindled, and so these good flashes flew foorth; you may the better pardon this fault in me, because I haue made you some amends in being so short. As it came in my fingers, I tooke it along with me; it came in my way, and I could not let it slippe: so shall I doe hereafter, as often as occasion is offered. And looke not thou on him that saves it, but to that which is said vnto thee. For if thou be clad in a neat Suit of clothes, and that they sit well vpon thee, it is not materiall, whether thy Taylour were crooke-back't, or no: that is not a thing to be thought on. And thus much by way of preuention, that thou mayest either leaue mee to my selfe, or arme thy selfe with patience. I wot well, that it is impossible to bee well receiued of all; for there is not that Vessell in the world, that can mea­sure mens tastes; nor that Balance, that can equall their likings, or giue an euen poyze to such vneuen humours. Euery one is in loue with his owne: and thinking his owne iudgement to be the best, is thereby the more deceiued: For the most of men haue it, for the most part, most depraued.

But I returne to my first station, whence I haue digressed: for my mother lookes for me, now being the widow of him that first possessed her; and dearely beloued, and wonderfully much made of by this second Owner. In this change and alteration of things, betweene these and those other nuptials, Guzman had two fathers, by vertue of his mother. I was betweene three and foure yeeres old: and by the reckenings and rules of your feminine knowledge, I had two fathers: for my mother was so well learned in her Art, that she knew very well how to father me on them both. She had attained to the knowedge of working impossibilities, as plainely was to be seene, since she had the cunning to serue two Masters, and to please two husbands; to both of them giuing good contentment. Both of them did acknowledge me to be their sonne; the one sayd, I was his; so did the other. And when the Knight was alone by himselfe, my mother would tell him, that I was as like him, as if I had beene spit out^• of his mouth; and that two Egges were not liker one another, then I was like him. When againe, shee talked a As they say, cl gato es estornudo del [...]on, as like [...], as [...] had beene sp [...]t out of his m [...], or [...]z [...] of [...]is n [...]se, f [...]r his fa [...], [...] and [...]. with my father, she would tell him, that I was his alter ego, that he and I were one, and so would haue seemed, if our heads had beene cut off, and layd in a Charger: and that I was himselfe, made lesse; and did so truly resemble him, as if my head had stood vpon his shoulders. But I wonder a God, in this re­semblance of mine, (which a blind man might discerne at the first blush) that the mystery thereof was not discouered; that they found not out her craft, and searched not out the secret of this her deceit. But what with the blind­nesse where-withall they lou'd her, and the confidence which each of them [Page 25] had, it was not perceiued, nor any the least suspition made thereof And so both their beliefes were good, and both made exceeding much of me: the dif­ference onely was, that in the time the good old man liu'd, hee was my true father in publicke, and the stranger in secret. And so my mother certified me afterwards, making large relations of these things vnto me.

And therefore I protest, howsoeuer men may talke, and seeke to slander me, that it doth no whit preiudice me; I heard it from her owne mouth, and barely relate vnto you what she told me. For it were great indiscretion and vnaduisednesse in me, to affirme, which of these two did beget mee, or whether I were the sonne of a third. Let her excuse me in this, who brought me foorth: for it ill becommeth any man to lye, much lesse to write an vn­truth: nor would I that men should say, that I maintaine Paradoxes. But that woman, that professes to loue two, deceiueth both the one and the o­ther, and there is no trust to be had to her. This is to be vnderstood of a sin­gle woman; for the rule in those that are married is otherwise. It is an old saying, That two is one; one, none; and three, Roguery. For a woman, ma­king no reckoning of her husband, (and this is true which I speake) he being alone, is none; and he, with another, makes one; and with those other two, which are three in the whole, make vp iust as much, as those two to a single­woman. So that according to their reason, the reckoning is already made. But be it as it may be, and grant that this Easterling, this Iew, or this Moore be my father; for since that they haue said it, and euery one doth auerre it to be true, it is not fit that I should appeale, all parties being agreed. I call my selfe his sonne, and so I take my selfe to be: since that from that Agreeing with that phrase which we vse to latle children, when we tell them they were borne in their mothers Parsly-bed. Mellon-bed I was made legitimate by the holy right of Matrimony. And it is much bet­ter for me this way, then that people should say, that I am ill borne, and the sonne of no man.

My father did loue vs both with that true loue, as his actions shall suffici­ently declare. For by the force of this his loue, he did tread vnder-foot the idolatry of that, which men style by the name of popular Voyce, and com­mon Opinion. For they knew no other name that she had, saue the By reason the old Knight held some Church-li­uing in Com­mendum. Com­mendadora; and to that would she answere, as if she had had some Commendum conferred vpon her. But he not regarding any of these things, nor making any reckoning of the one or the other, setting as light by them, as the least hayre of his head, kept company with her, and in the end tooke her to wife. I would haue thee likewise to vnderstand, that he did not enter vpon this bu­sinesse, a humo de pajas, suddenly and vnaduisedly, without hauing first well bethought himselfe of what he did. Euery man knowes his owne estate best; And a foole vnderstands more in his owne, then a vvise man in another mans house.

In this Intermedium, albeit this his Quinta or Garden-house, which hee had purchased, vvas a place of pleasure and delight, yet it vvas his vndoing, it was his ouerthrow: The profit little, and losse much; the cost great, as well for the keeping of it neat and handsome, as for the feastings and banquetings For poore men to keepe places for pleasi [...]e, is their ruine. which were very frequent. Such kind of delicacies as these, and such places for recreations, are onely fit for those, that haue other large possessions, good sure Lands, great and certaine Rents, which may quit the cost, and make the loade seeme the lighter. But for those that are not well lin'd, that haue not a strong and able purse, and that haue not the world at will, these niceties, are that Moth that eateth on, till it fretteth out and consumeth the heart: it is that Worme in Wood; that Magot in the Nut, which turnes all into dust and rottennesse: it is Hemlocke in a cup of Ambar; and poyson in a golden Vessell.

And thus much by the way concerning that point; it is but a touch; and now we go on. What with suites in Law, what with making loue to my mo­ther, and other expences, one charge drawing on another, a great part of my [Page 26] fathers state was consumed, all was almost gone, he was vpon the point of breaking, and ready to turne Estallido: Is the noise which a thing makes whē it cleaues, or rends in sunder. Metaphoricè. A Bankerout. How Guzmans Mother got her wealth which his father had with her. Bankerupt, as he had often done before; so that it would haue beene no strange or new thing vnto him.

My Mother was a storer, a thrifty Wench, one that could hold her owne; she was no waster, but lay still on the sauing hand: what with that which she gained in her youth-fuller dayes, and what she had scraped vp in the Knights life-time, as likewise at his death, amounted almost to ten thousand Ducats, this vvas her Dowry, and so much had he with her.

This money did somewhat refresh his drooping estate, it made him hold vp his head againe, who before vvas vpon fainting, and ready to swoune: it was vnto him like a piece of Weeke or Cotton in a Lampe, dipt in Oyle; hee be­gan to giue light a-fresh; he spent brauely, got him a Caroche, and a Silla de manos, a little chaire to carry vvith hands, borne with girthes vpon mens Ill gotten goods what became of them? shoulders, as well for ease, as state. Not so much for any longing that my mo­ther had thereunto, as for his owne ostentation and glory, that the world might not take notice of the weakenesse of his Estate, or that he was going downe the winde. In this kinde of fashion did he liue to vphold his credit, and rubb'd out as vvell as he might vvith his meanes; but his gaines did not equal his expences. There was but one to get, & many to spend; but one paire of hands, and a great many mouthes. The Times vvere hard; the yeeres deare; dealings, small and bad; little, or no Trading. What vvas well gotten, is wa­sted and gone; and vvhat was ill gotten, hath not onely consumed it selfe, but his owner too. So that at last, all was brought to nothing: Sinne, brought it in; and Sinne (on my conscience) sent it packing. For of all that vvas left, no­thing appeared. The light was now quite out, and my father beeing taken The death of Guzmans Father. with a grieuous sicknesse, was arrested by Death within fiue dayes after: and so shut vp his shop-windowes, and departed this world.

Now, for that I was a child, and of small vnderstanding, I did not feele the want of a Father, nor found any great misse of him when he dyed, though I was then at that time a doozen yeere old, and better. And notwithstanding that we grew poore, the house was still well furnished with houshold-stuffe, whereof we tooke now a piece, and then a piece, and sold it away by parcels for to buy vs bread, and wherewith to eate. But the wealth of those, that The property of the wealth of rich men reduced to pouerty. haue beene rich, hath this property, that the remainder of their estate is al­wayes more, then the best estate of those that be poore; & dayly more & more they leaue some prints, which discouer, like the ruines of Rome, what it was.

My mother grieued much, for that she had lost a good and honest Hus­band, and found her selfe, not onely robbed of him, but also of her wealth, and growne now so aged, that she was super-annuated for any more Suitors, so that she could not help her selfe with her good parts; nor recouer her former credit. And albeit her beauty was not disfigured, yet her yeeres had some­what defaced it: And it grieued her exceedingly, that hauing beene so many times sued vnto by many, that she was not now in case to be courted: And e­specially of some such person, whose fethers she might haue pull'd from him; for otherwise, neither would she haue yeelded vnto him, nor I haue permit­ted it. Euen in this also was I vnhappy, since that in-come which my Mother got (as Cats doe) by her tayle, did then cease, when I had most need of it. I said amisse, when I said it ceased: For she was yet fit for action; and would (when she was so disposed) put on her dressings, and weare her head attire, as being little more then forty yeeres old. I haue knowne since some old Maids (pus­socks in comparison of her) of greater yeeres, and lesse handsomnesse, that would call themselues by the name of young Girles, and little pretty Maidens, and sweare (if you would beleeue them when they lye) that they came but yesterday out of their swaddling cloathes: And although my Mo­ther did not shew so faire for it, she thought her penny good siluer, and would [Page 27] not giue her arme for the wringing, or her head for the washing. And shee would rather die and starue for hunger, then bate an Ace of her former height, or faile one quilate in the touch and finenesse of her punctualitie.

You now see me heere left without a father, either the one or the other, our goods wasted, and that which is worst of all, bearing a high sayle, liuing at a great rate, without any person in it to gaine a penny, to maintaine this port. On my fathers side, Cid, was the brauest & vali­antest Souldier in his time, and had conquered fiue Kings of the M [...]ores, and made them pay tribute. Guzmans li­nage. Cid did not goe beyond me, he was no better a man than my selfe; for my possession crossed and diuided that Lordship. On my mothers side, I was as well descended; my great grand-fathers being men of great wealth, and of good esteeme in their Country. I had more grafts, then the In Toledo, they tearme Gi­garrales, cer­taine possessions, not fa [...]e from Toledo, which are little choise garden plots, full of Fountaines, as also Fruit trees, Vines, Oliues, and Figges, with a little house of pleasure to enter­taine the Owner. But some of your Cigarrales are goodly things of great both value, and recreation; but of as much expence, as profit. Father Guadix sayes, that it is an Arabique word; and signifies as much as a little House. A notable vanity. Cigarrales of Toledo, (for by that name are those Gardens of pleasure thereabouts called) as I learned afterwards. I tell you (as a thing publiquely knowne to all the world) that my mother was her mothers owne daughter, and trode iust in her steps, she set her Samplar before her, that she might draw out some good worke from thence, so that shee went along in the very same path that she did, saue only in that of their child-bearing; for my grand­mother brought forth a daughter for her comfort, and my father begot a sonne for my mothers ruine. If my Mother brought two into the net, my Grand­mother brought two doozen, and made them like Chickens (if the world speakes truth) to eate together in one pot-sheard, and to sleepe in one Hen­roost, and to be pen'd vp in one Coope, without pecking one at another, or driuen to hood them, as they doe Hawkes.

With this daughter of hers, (I meane my Mother) she insnared a hundred seuerall persons, vowing and protesting to euery supposed father, that my Mother was his child, and so to all, that she was like them all: To such a one, in her eye; to another, in her mouth; to a third, in most of the parts and li­neament of her body: nay, to colour the busines the better, she would go a lit­tle farther, in counterfetting markes and moles in the face, and other spots in other parts to that purpose; not wanting to tell some, that she did spit like them, and that she had it naturally from them. She had this (as she was ex­cellent in many) cunning tricke with her, that when any of her sweet-hearts were present with her, she would call her after his Sir-name. And if two, or more were there at the same time, she call'd her barely by her owne name, without any addition. Her proper name was Marcella, which was bur­nished and furbished ouer with the title of Don set ouer the head of it; for as she was called Donna Marcella; so had she her Don or Cauallero for her ser­uant. For Donna, without a Don, are lesse compatible, and lesse comely, then a house without a bed; a Mill, without a Wheele; or a body, without a sha­dow. As for her sir-names, being they were things that meerely depended vpon her mothers owne free choise and election; and for that she was vncer­taine thereof, because she could not well tell who was the true father to her daughter: I must therefore giue you to know, that she did bolster her vp, and vnder-prop her, with the best titulary names she could deuise, throwing more noble houses vpon her, then a King of Armes could conferre with all his farre-fetcht Pedigrees. Which to repeat vnto you, were to reckon vp a Bead-roll of Genealogies, as long as any Letany, that is solemnly sung at di­uine seruice.

The Guzmans were those, vnto whom she most inclined, (for she had a great liking to that name) and my Mother told me in secret, that in her opinion, which was no more then her owne conscience did tell her: in discharge whereof, she did verily beleeue, and was fully perswaded (by some likely in­counters, probable ghesses, and other circumstances of time and place ium­ping and concurring together) that she was some by-blow of a Cauallero, that was neere of kinne to the Dukes of Medina Sidonia. My Grandmother was a wise woman, a crafty old Dame, and neuer wanted to her dying day, but [Page 28] had wherewithall to spend freely, nor was it any wonder; for when it began to wax night with her, and that it was time for her to shut vp her shop, then did my Mothers dawning of the day begin to appeare, and she had her at her elbow, to continue the trade for her, and the first bargaine that she droue, was worth to her betterthen 4000. ducats, which shee had of a rich Merchant, (with whom she held trafficke, and exchanged wares) that was newly come from Peru, who did deliuer her the money by basket-fuls, which was good and quick payment. She neuer made bad voyage, she still bore vp, liu'd in plen­ty, and would not lose a iot of what was her due. No Christian could carry away her right from her; nor would she giue any first fruits to the Diuell.

Now, if we had had the like goodlucke, our misery might haue beene the lesse: Or if, as I was the onely sonne of my Mother, it had been my good hap to haue had a Sister, to haue seru'd as a prop to my Mother, as a Staffe to her old Age, as a Pillar to our Pouerty, and as a Port to our often shipwracks, we would haue bid a figge in Fortunes teeth.

Seuill stood very fitly and commodiously seated for point of profit, or for Seuill, and its condition. any kinde of incroaching-getting, and as much is brought thither to be sold, as there is to be bought. For there shall you meete with Merchants that will deale with you in all commodities, no wares come amisse. It is Patria com­munis, and a free-common for all commers; it is a pasture, without inclo­sure; a Gordian Knot, an open field, a Globe without end, a mother of Or­phans, and a shelter for Sinners; where all cry out of want, and yet no man wants. Or (since not this) that I had been bred vp in Court, which is the Sea, that swallowes all; the point, wherein all lines meet, and the very center, wherevnto all other parts haue recourse: sure my abilities would not haue beene lesse then other mens; and as I should haue wanted no good parts, so should I not haue lackt entertainment. I should haue lighted on some good Office or other, got to be in Commission, and other the like places of profit and honour, wherein I should haue gone as farre as another, and haue found as much fauour, had my purse been as good: For that will hold any thing fast, and is the onely thing to keepe a man in. And had the worst come to the worst, yet could vve not haue wanted meat and drinke, but should haue far'd like Kings. For he that shall haue a good piece of land, or the like pledge, ei­ther to impawne, or to sell, shall euer haue a chapman ready at hand, either to buy it out-right, or to lend so much money vpon it, as to serue a mans pre­sent occasions. But I was an vnfortunate man, (as you haue already heard) and stood alone by my selfe, vvithout any tree by me, either to shadow, or to shelter me. I had many troubles come vpon me, the burthen was heauy, my strength weake, my debt great, and my meanes small. See then and consider whether it were fit or no, that such a young Youth as I, that began to crowe before I was scarce out of the shell, and to write man so soone, hauing such honest parts in me, and good indowments, should not bee made some recko­ning off? The best help that I had, was to try my fortune, by leauing my Mo­ther, and my Country, to see if I could mend my miserable Estate. I did so, and because I would not bee knowne, I vvould not make vse of my Fa­thers name: but that of Guzman, which I tooke from my Mother, and of Whence Guz­man de Alfa­rache [...]ad his name. Alfarache, vvhich was the place of my inheritance, as also of my beeing. With this resolution, I went abroad to see the World, trauelling from place to place, re-commending my selfe to God, and well-disposed people, in whom I had put my trust.

CHAP. III.

I Was a fat plumpe Lad, well fed, and cockerd vp, bred in Seuill, neuer checkt, chid, nor corrected by my Father: My The delicacie wherem Guz­man liued. Mother (as you haue heard) a Widdow-woman, my selfe cram'd with Collops of Bacon, your finest Bread, and your daintiest Creame; your sops of Honey steep'd in Rose-wa­ter, more lookt on and adored, then a Merchant of Toledo, or at least as good a man as he, it grieued me very much (be­sides that the loue of a mans Country is sweet and deare vnto him) to forgoe thus my house, my kinsfolke and my friends. But being forced thereunto, I could not auoid it. The desire that I had to see the world, and to goe into Ita­ly to take acquaintance of my Noble Kindred and Alliance, did much quic­ken and put life into me.

I set forth, vvhich I ought not to haue done (I may be bold to say it) late, and vnluckily. And thinking to meet with some rich remedy, I lost all that Guzman de­parts from Se­uill to se [...] the world; and what hapned vnto him the first night. little that I had. That hapned vnto me, which befell the Dogge in the Fable with the shadow of his piece of flesh in the water.

I had scarce gone out of the Citie gate, when (without being able to make resistance) two great Riuers (like an ouer-flowing Nilus) did breake out from forth mine eyes, watring my face in great aboundance, till it was bathed all ouer with teares. What vvith this, and the nights comming on (for it grew darke) I could not discerne any light of heauen; nor perceiue so much as a hands-breadth of earth as I went along. When I came to San Lazaro, (which is but a little way off from the Citie, I sate me downe there vpon the stayres or steps, by which we goe vp to that holy Hermitage. There I made a new muster of my life, suruay'd it ouer and ouer, and discoursed with my selfe thereupon. I was about to goe backe againe, for that I came forth ill proui­ded, worse aduised, and poorely furnisht with money for so long a Voyage, hauing scarce sufficient to serue my turne for a farre shorter [...]ourney. And amongst other my so many misfortunes, (vvhich vvhen they once beginne, Misfortunes sel­dome come alone. come by clusters, hanging like Cherries, one at the tayle of another) it was Friday night; and withall, somewhat darke. I had neither supt, nor had any beuer that afternoone. Had I gone out of the Citie vpon a flesh day, although I had beene borne blind, my nose would haue helped mee to smell out some one Cookes shoppe or other, where I might haue bought a penny Pasty, wherewithall to entertaine my stomake, and to dry vp my teares, and so my sorrow would haue beene the lesse.

Then I began to perceiue, how much more sensible a man is of the good he loseth then when he inioyed it; and what difference there is betweene the He that hath not wherewithall to eate, [...]ath store of sorrowes. hungry belly, and the full-fed paunch. All troubles passe the better with bread: Where good feeding fayleth, there no good followeth; no euill which aboundeth not; no pleasure that indureth, nor content to comfort vs. All fret and chafe, and know not why, nor wherefore. No man is in fault; and yet they lay it one vpon another; all runne vpon the haunt, feigning strange Chimera's in their heads; all is then nothing but gouernment; all is Philoso­phy. I had a great minde to my supper, but the diuell a bit of any thing that I could get to put to my mouth, saue a little fresh water that ran from a foun­taine that was there hard by. I knew not what to doe with my selfe, nor how [Page 30] to cast about, to bring my self into some one Hauen or other. That vvhich did hearten me one vvay, did discourage me another. I found my selfe betwixt feares and hopes; a steepe downe-fall before mine eyes, and rauening Wolues ready to deuoure me at my backe. My thoughts began as fast to vvauer, as my feet did to vvander: at length I was vvilling to put my selfe into Gods hands. I entred into a Church, I powr'd foorth a short prayer, but vvhe­ther deuout enough or no, I know not. Nor would they suffer me to dwell any longer on my Orizons; for the hower was come that they vvere to rid the Church, and to shut vp the doores.

The night was now shut vp, and with it my imaginations, but not the teares, that trickled from mine eyes: In this melancholy humour I fell at last asleepe vpon a seate without in the Church-porch. I know not what should be the reason of it, vnlesse peraduenture, that sleepe crackes cares, and breaks melancholy in twaine. As that Mountanese gaue vs to vnderstand, whogoing The con [...]it of a Mountanese. to bury his Wife, went bare-foot, and bare-legg'd; his Iacket with its inside outward; and so in the rest, all was Kim-kam, I know not how. In that mountainous Country the houses stand apart, and some of them very farre from the Church. And passing by a Tauerne, he perceiued white-Wine was there to be sold: whereupon he made as if he had some other necessary busi­nesse to do, and sayd vnto them; On a Gods name, keepe on afore, my ma­sters, with this vnfortunate Coarse, for I shall ouer-take you in a trice: So hee slunke backe, and went into the Tauerne; where taking cuppe after cuppe, he soop't so long, till he was starke drunke, and there fell asleepe. Now when those of his company came from the Buriall, and found him stretcht out vpon the floore, they called alowd vnto him; he after awhile being come againe to himselfe, looking somewhat heauily vpon them, sayd; Now a pockes of all ill lucke: pardon mee, (my masters) I pray, pardon mee; for, I sweare vnto you, that there is not any thing in the world, that causeth more thirst, or more sleepe, then sorrow. It was iust euen so with me; for it vvas now Sa­turday morning, and the Sunne was some two houres high, vvhen I began to bethinke my selfe vvhat I had beene doing; nor should I haue vvak't so soone, if the Timbrels, and the Songs, and the Dancings of certaine Women, which came thither that day to keepe their Wake, and to feast, and be merry, vvith their dubbing, and their bawling, had not rowz'd me vp from sleepe. I got me vp, (though somewhat of the latest) hungry, and drowsie, vvithout know­ing for a vvhile vvhere I vvas; so that me thought I vvas still as it vvere in a dreame. But when at last I vvas fully awake, and found all vvas true that I or saw, or heard, I said to my selfe; Echada esta la suerte, the Dye is throwne, God send me good lucke. And vvith this resolution, I vvent forward on my iourney; but the diuell awhit did I know vvhither I did go, nor indeed did I much stand vpon it; for all vvas one to me. At last, I tooke that vvay, which offered it selfe fairest to mine eye; let it lead vvhither it vvould, I did not care. What [...]ses and Common-wealths are ill gouerned. Which did then put me in mind of those ill-gouerned both houses and Com­mon-wealths, vvhere the feet performe the heads office. Where reason and vnderstanding doe not dispatch businesses; vvhere they haue not the com­mand, it is to melt a mans gold, (come of it vvhat may come) and afterwards to adore a calfe. My feet carried me along; I followed as fast after them; come good, or come ill; ouer hill and dale trudge I. That happening vnto mee, vvhich befell a foolish Physician in Mancha; vvho had no learning in the A [...]le of an ig­norant Phis [...]. vvorld, neuer studied any Physicall Author; but had gotten together (which he carried along with him) a great number of Receipts; some for Syrrupes, and some for Purges, vvhich were distributed into seuerall, either Boxes, or Vyols.

Now this cunning Leech, vvhen he visited any sicke-body, (and look't to be vvell payed for his paines, for the good he should do him) he vvould thrust [Page 31] his hand into his Satchell, (vvhich he still bare about vvith him for these pur­poses) and then vvould he take foorth one of his recipe's, saying first to him­selfe, God dispose it to good. And so he gaue the Patient that vvhich came first to hand, vvithout any more ado; vvorke how it vvould vvorke, that was all one to him; he would put that still to the venture. In letting of blood, he kept no account either for the Veine, or the quantitie; but would cry, either a little more, or a little lesse, as he chanced to blurt the vvord at all aduen­ture out of his mouth, casting himselfe vpon Fortune, rushing thorow thicke and thinne; like him that carelesly runnes thorow a Corne-field, where some Eares are trod vnder-foot, and some scape without harme; more by chance, then good cunning. I might then haue said to my selfe, as did hee, God dis­pose it to good; for I did not know vvhat course I ran; I vvas ignorant of my vvay, nor could I tell, (if my life should haue lyen vpon it) whither I was bound.

But because his diuine Maiestie sendeth troubles, according to his owne good will and pleasure, and for such ends, as are best knowne to himselfe, they Afflictions are sent vs by God for our good. turne all to our greater good, if we can haue the grace to make true vse of them. They began now to come fast vpon me, and followed me at an inch, not allowing me one moment of content, nor affoording mee so much as a breathing-time from my cares, all the vvhile that I was abroad in my trauels: so that they neuer left, whither-soeuer I vvent. But these vvere not those, that vvere sent me of God; but onely those vvhich my selfe vvent seeking af­ter. And there is a great deale of difference betweene the one, and the other: for those that come from the hand of God, he knowes how to free vs from Troubles sent from God, are Iewels: them; and such as these, are Mynes of most pure gold, most precious Iewels, couered vvith a little Sward, or light Turfe of earth, vvhich vvith a little la­bour may be discouered and found. But those, which men draw vpon them­selues by their vices and sensuall delights, are gilded Pilles, which deceiuing But drawne on by our selues, are torments vnto vs. the sight vvith a false show of a sauourie taste, put the body out of order, if not vtterly ouerthrow it. They are greene fields, full of venimous Vipers; stones (at the first sight) of great esteeme, but vnderneath are full of Scorpi­ons: and lastly, an eternall death, vvhich deludeth vs with a short life.

This day hauing vvearied out my selfe with going onely but two little Leagues, (vvhich vvere the first that euer I vvent) it seemed vnto me, that I had arriued at the Antipodes, and like another famous Columbus, that I had discouered a new World. Well, I came at length to an Inne, full of sweate and dust; my feet surbated, my selfe sad, and aboue all, with my Mill in very good state to grind, my teeth sharpe, and my stomacke faint. It vvas about Noone, I ask't vvhat we might haue to dinner: they told me, That they had nothing but egges; it had not beene amisse if they had beene egges: for either The roguery of an Hostesse. vvhether the roguish Hostesse, through too much heat, clocking ouer them, or that the Foxe had kill'd the Hen, some vvere growne addle, others ready to hatch; and that she might not lose by them, shee had put them in a boxe, and had mingled them with other egges that were good. But shee did not deale so ill with me, God reward her according to her vsage of me: shee saw I was a young Lad, ruddy-cheek't, full-fac't, and plumpe withall; that I was a nouice in the world, and look't like a good honest simple Youth, and that any thing would serue me well inough: vpon this she ask't me; My pretty child, whence are you? I told her, I was of Seuill: vvith that, she came nee­rer vnto me, and giuing me a chocke vnder the chin, she said vnto me; Now you little wanton foole, vvhither wander you? O good God, how did her stinking breath annoy me! with her very touching of me, me thought I had drawne old-age vpon me, the attraction was so sensible to my seeming. This made me imagine, that the vtmost of euils had now lighted vpon me, in mee­ting vvith such a filthy vnsauoury Slut. And if my stomacke had beene full [Page 32] at that time, as it was empty, I should haue spued out all within me; for my stomacke then rose vp to my mouth, and my guts had almost kist my lippes. I told her, that I was going to the Court, and vvisht her to giue me somwhat for my dinner. Then she made me sit downe vpon a lame Bench, and on the top of a little blocke, she spred a Dish-clout before me, iust for all the world, like vnto the Maulkins vvherewith she swept her Ouen; and this (forsooth) was my Table-cloth: my Salt-sellar, was the foot of an old broken Pitcher, or some piece of a pot-sheard, such as she sets full of water, to make her Poul­try drinke: and halfe a Loafe of bread, that was blacker then her Napery. This preparation made, she presently powr'd me foorth vpon a plate a Froize of egges, which might more truly haue beene tearmed a Plaister of egges: they, the bread, the Iarre, the water, the Salt-sellar, the salt, the linnen, and the Hostesse, were all one; so well did they suit together. I knew my selfe to be a young traueller, and therefore held it discretion to make no reply, but to take all patiently; my tongue vvas tyed, my mouth muzzled, my stomacke empty my guts shrunke, and clung so close together, as if they had beene new­ly milched. I was as sharpe set vpon my Froize, as a Hog is after Akornes, and slopt vp my egges, as a Sow do's Wash, I was so eager vpon the businesse. I made no bones of it, all went cleane vp together without any great chewing▪ howbeit, to speake the truth, I felt the tender bones of those vntimely Chic­kens to crackle betweene my teeth, that they made my gummes to tickle a­gaine. I must tel you truly, that me thought, (besides the ill-fauourednes of the taste, vvhich was not like that of other egges, which I vs'd to eate at home in my mothers house) this was but a coorse kind ofvsage; and such as I had not here-tofore beene acquainted with. But I did let that conceit passe by, and drown'd the imagination thereof in my hunger and wearinesse; conceiting with my selfe, that the distance of place, or difference of the Climate, might be the cause thereof, and that all egges were not of one sauour, nor of one qua­lity. In conclusion, I digested all things so well, that I tooke it for a token of good lucke. For it is as proper to him that is hungry, not to stand vpon Sau­ces, and your fine relishes; as to him that is in want, to step out into the high He that is truly hungry, will not sticke to eate any thing. way, and to take a purse. No booty comes amisse to him that is in need. Beg, steale, or any thing, rather then starue.

I made light of it, my dinner was short, and as quickly dispatch't, and took in good part this my first course, though it could not well be courser. Vpon my bread I dwelt somewhat longer; I fell to that a little more leysurely, paw­sing now and then betwixt euery bit; for it being likewise very bad, I was forced to take longer time; one morsell making way for another, that it might the more orderly descend downe into my stomacke. I began with the crust, and ended in the crumme, which was as tough as Whit-lether, and as dry as a Paste-boord. But whatsoeuer it were, were it better or worse, I deuoured euery iot of it; nor did leaue out of courtesie, the least crumme thereoffor the Ants to feed vpon, no more then if it had beene little, and good. That happe­ning vnto me, which doth befall good feeders, when they fall close to a dish of fruit; who picking out first the best and the ripest, do (as in the eating of Cherries) eate vp the greenest and worst last, without once thinking of those that were gone before. Then did I eat apace, one bit (as they say) driuing down another, till I had made an end of halfe a Loafe: vvhich, if it had beene good, or but any thing reasonable, or that it had but pleased my eye, (for it was but poore browne-bread) I would haue taken in a greater crop, and haue filled vp my pann [...]ll, with a whole Loafe of at least three pound weight. The yeere was barren by reason of the great droughts; and in such times as those, Seuill was wont to suffer much scarcitie; for euen in their better, and more plenti­full yeeres, they haue had much ado to rub out: what hope can there then be, when corne is scant with them?

[Page 33] But it is not fit, that I should inlarge my selfe in this subiect, nor open the mysterie thereof vnto you, by giuing you a reason for it. I am a sonne of that Citie, a Towne-borne child: I will therefore hold my peace; for all the whole World is one and the same, here and there, and euery where, all alike. For no man buyes an Or a Monopoly▪ Aga [...]st the [...]l Gouernours and Magistrates of Seuill. Office for any other end and purpose, but for his pro­fit, be it publike, or be it priuate; they will grate and scrape, be it by hooke or by crooke, to raise a fortune there-out vnto themselues. Few are they, that will part with so many thousand Ducats, for to do good vnto the poore, but to themselues. For ere they will bestow a farthing-token on a poore body by way ofalmes, they will first examine the businesse, and consult with them­selues, whether it be a charitable act or no.

Thus it fared with a Regidor, who being espied by an old man, one of that Towne where he had to doe, to exceed the bounds of his duty, and to doe things beyond his Commission, call'd him vnto him, and told him; How now Sinior N, &c. Is this it, that you were sworne vnto, when you were admit­ted at the Assembly, to be one of our Company, that you should goe about to picke vp your crummes a this fashion, and trot vp and downe to sharke for these The conceit of this passage, co [...] ­sists in the word Menudos, and its double signifi­cat [...]on. For Me­nudo's are brasse Moneys: they signifie also particular neces­sities. Menudo is likewise the in­trailes of a sheep, together with the head and feet: and in birds, the garbage. And these are vsually eaten in Spaine vpon Saturday, but no other part of the carkase. This last significa­tion sorts best. Menudo's? To whom he made this answer; Doe not you see, how I comply with mine Oath, since I come for them euery Saturday to the Sham­bles? I bought them with my money, and I had them out of the poore sheepes belly. After this manner all things passe, in all places; it is the world. They go diuiding the spoile among themselues; they will fetch flowre from all parts to make themselues a good Cake. Claw me, claw thee: to day for me, tomorrow for thee: doe thou giue me leaue to buy, and I will giue thee leaue to sell. They make restraints for selling of Victuals, saue onely at such set times and places: they set the prices vpon all things, as if they were their owne: and when they please they will sell the same againe at vvhat rate they thinke fit. For all is theirs, as well what is bought, as vvhat is sold.

Myselfe am a Witnesse, that a Regidor of one ofthe chiefest Cities of An­daluzia, and Kingdome of Granada, had a flock of sheepe, an herd of Goates, and some other milch-beasts; and for that the weather was cold, he could by no meanes vtter his milke, but euery man fell to his Bunnuelo, is a certaine round Fritter compos'd of Meale, Oyle, and Hony: and is more vs'd in Spaine, then in any other parts, in Winter time. It is called Bunnu­elo, quasi Pun­nuelo, because it is strained or squeazed out of the Fist, and so let fall into the Pan of Oyle. Bunnuelo's. Now thin­king with himselfe, that he should lose much thereby, if Lent should grow on, and should not remedy the matter before-hand, hee propounded at an open Meeting, or publicke Assembly, That the Moriscan Bunnulero's, or Fritter­makers, did rob the Common-wealth. Hee rated them therefore at a lesser price, then it stood them in, amounting to little more then sixe A Maraue­dis, is a small piece of brasse­money, 32. of them go to sixe­pence. Marauedis. Well, he was willing in the end to raise them to eight, allowing them rather a small, then moderate gaine.

Hereupon, none would make of them, because they could get nothing by the bargaine. And so in that space or tract of time, he spent the profits of his Cattle, in Butter, Creame, fresh-Cheese, and other such like things, till the time of yeere was come, that he was to put foorth his Flockes and Herds of Cattle into the common fields. And when he began to make his Cheese, then would he raise vp your Bunnuelo's to twelue Marauedis, as they were at be­fore; but then Summer was comming on, and they shortly to grow out of season. He himselfe did not sticke to report this crafty tricke of his, to teach men how to become good husbands, and how they ought to beate their brains, to make shift to liue.

Now let vs returne againe into our old way, from which we haue digrest: for me thinkes it is not meet, that we should lay all the fault vpon the Magi­strates and Gouernours of Townes and Incorporations, being that wee may distribute it as well among others. Let vs throw some of this vpon your Pur­veyors, The craft of a couetou [...] Magi­strate. and Commissaries; and not vpon all neither, but on some of them, as it may be foure out of fiue, or so; who like Caterpillers destroy the Land, by [Page 34] robbing of poore old Men, and desolate Widdowes, by deceiuing of their betters, and by telling lyes, and informing false-hoods to their King; the one for to increase their lands and inheritances; and the other, to haue them confirmed vnto them, that they may settle a good estate vpon the Heires of their house, and haue where-withall to liue in fulnesse, and in plenty.

This likewise is somewhat out of the vvay from that discourse which I ought heere to treat of, and requires of it selfe a whole and intire booke. I treat in this of mine owne life, and therefore will not meddle with other mens; but I doe not know, whether I shall be able, when a ball offers it selfe so fairely vnto me, to pull backe my hand or no? For there is no man that is Master of himselfe, when he is on horsebacke: How much more is a man vn­able to containe himselfe, in things so generally knowne? Both the one and the other is generally imbraced, and all walke the same way, yeelding the field to the stronger, crying out Uiuat, qui vincit, let him liue that conquers; and he weare gold that wins it. But alas, how do we deceiue our selues? For we are those that are conquered; and he that deceiueth, is the deceiued. I say then, that Seuilla per fas, aut per nefas, either by right or by wrong, one vvay or other, I know not vvhich (considering her aboundance of fruits, and the dearenesse of them) suffreth sterrilitie, and scarcitie; and that yeere was there greater vvant and penury then heretofore, by reason of some secret disorders, and through the couetousnesse of those, who should haue sought to remedy the matter, who did study onely their owne ends, and to make a particular fortune to themselues. The secret of this mysterie past onely betweene some three or foure of them, many were not acquainted with it, who without con­sidering the ends, tooke in hand bad beginnings, and diuellish meanes, to the hurt of their owne Common-wealth.

In all my trauels, I haue euer obserued, that these great rich men, and pow­erfull Rich men are like Whales: for they grow great by the hurt of others. persons, are like vnto Whales, vvho opening wide the mouth & iawes of their couetousnesse, swallow vp all that comes in their vvay; to the end that their houses may be vvell prouided for, and their reuenues increased, vvithout casting any eye of compassion vpon the poore young Orphane; or lending an eare to the cry of the distressed Damsell; or affoording his shoul­ders for to vphold the feeble and the vveake; or opening his charitable hands to relieue the sicke, and him that is in need: but rather vnder the name of good gouernment, euery man so gouernes himselfe, that hee does the best he can, to draw all the vvater to his owne Mill. They publish good desires; but they exercise bad actions. Their pretensions are faire; but their practise starke naught. They vvould seeme to be Gods Lambes, innocent and harme­lesse soules, but the Diuell onely makes profit of them; they fall wholly to his share; he, and none but he reapes the fruit of them: God has the name indeede, but the Diuell hath the shearing of them. There vvas good store of Rye bread, passable inough, and at a reasonable price; He that had Wheat, reserued the Flowre of the Meale for his own table, and the refuse he brought forth to sell in the Market, as if any thing vvere good enough for the poore Commons. Our Officers and great men turn'd to be Bakers, and those went about to burne and waste the Country, which should haue rather beene willing to haue been burned for it. I can not deny, but this was puni­shed, and that there were many good men, to whom euill seemed euill. But in such necessities as these, it is not to be holpen by a few. Besides, the great numbers of those that were interessed therein, did crush those, that offered to stirre against them, because they were poore. And if poore, it is inough, I need say no more. Let euery man make his owne coniecture, and discourse that with himselfe.

Perceiuest thou not how impatient I am? Seest thou not that I can not [Page 35] containe my selfe? and how that my pen, before euer I thought of lashing out so farre, hath slipt vpon this Theame. They gaue mee the yarke with the spurre, and I turned my head to strike where they pricked me. I know not what excuse to make thee, but to tell thee, that I doe as Carriers doe, that driue their beasts of burthen before them, who rush the man that meetes them against the vvall, or throwes him to the ground, and then say, I cry you mercy, Sir. In conclusion, all the bread was nought, although then it did not rellish amisse with mee. I did refresh my selfe with eating, and did cheere vp my heart with drinking, for the Wines of those Countries are exceeding rich, generous, and full of spirit; and with this I had pretty well recouered my selfe, and receiued new courage. And my feet, that were wea­ried out with bearing my belly, though empty, and of small weight (as being lightly laden) now that it was full, and had his loade, made shift to carry my feet.

And so I went on on my way, with no small care to know, what knacking of Castanne­ta, is the stroke or sound, that is giuen with the Thumbe, and the middle finger, when they dance. And to make the noise the lowder, they tye two hol­low thinne pieces of wood to their thumbe, which are made round after the manner of your Chesse-Nuts. Castan­neta, beeing de­riued from Ca­stanna, which signifies a Chesse-Nut. Castannetas that might be, which made the Egges that I had eaten, to daunce in my mouth. My imagination was working to and fro vpon this matter; and the more it did beat vpon it, the more misfortunes represented themselues vnto me, and my stomake began to stirre more and more: for I could suspect nothing lesse then a kinde of loathing, seeing how ill they were drest, of what blacknesse the oyle, like to that which is in the bottome of a Lampe; a fowle Pan; and a fowle bleare-ey'd Hostesse.

Thus my imagination running from one thing to another, I met at last with the truth; and hauing gone another League, my fancy wrought so with me, that I could hold no longer. For as it is with your women that are with child, so was it iust with me. Eructations and belchings did come and goe from my stomake to my mouth, till at last I fell a vomiting, till there was not any thing left within me. And euen yet to this day, me thinkes I heare those little chickens, those poore pretty fooles, cry still peepe, peepe, within my bowels.

Being in this miserable taking, I sate mee downe on the side of a hollow Ditch, that seru'd for a fence to certaine Vines that were thereby; conside­ring with my selfe the misfortunes that I had, and was like to runne into, much repenting my selfe of my ill aduised departure. But it is, and euer will be the fashion of young fellowes, to cast themselues away headlong, vpon their pre­sent pleasures, without hauing an eye, or any regard in the world to their fu­ture hurt, or the harme that will follow after.

CHAPTER IV.

TRoubled in minde, full of care and thoughts, and pen­siuely musing with my self, I lay all along on the ground, leaning mine head vpon mine arme; when by chance a Carrier hapt to passe by, who went along with empty Mules, which were to be laden with Wine at the Vil­lage called Caçalla de la Sierra. He seeing me sitting in this melancholly manner, a Yong Strippling, all alone, afflicted in minde, handsome in my person, and reasona­bly well clad, as one that had beene much made of heretofore, began (as I then conceiued) to pitie my troubles, and to take compassion of me, asking me, what the matter was, that I was so sad. I told him all that had hapned vnto me in my Inne; and had scarce made an end of my Tale, when he brake forth into such a Youle of laughing, that he was ready to burst, and I to breake forth into choller. And that face of mine, which before was as pale as ashes, was set on fire by those coales of anger, which were kindled in my brest a­gainst him. But because I was not then a Cock that stood vpon my owne dunghill, nor scarce mine owne man; as also for that I found my selfe dis­armed, and as it were in a desart by my selfe: I held my tongue, and said no­thing vnto him, because I could not crowe as I would. For it is discretion to dissemble that, which a man cannot helpe; Patiently brooking this his rather grinning, then laughing: And those ends that are doubtfull in their obtaining, must be throughly first consulted on, and be reduced to some certain grounds and Principles. For opinions are various, and honours vitreous, glassy, and subiect to breaking. And if I should there, at that time, haue mis-behaued my selfe, happely he would haue laid hold on me first, and by aduenturing to gaine vpon him, I might haue runne the hazzard, if not the certainty of lo­sing all. For Competition is a thing to be auoided. But if it cannot be auoided, but that we must needs haue it, let it be with our equals; and rather of the two, with thy Superiours, then thy inferiours; but haue a care that thou doe not ouer-match thy selfe with those that are too strong for thee, lest they trample vpon thee, and tread thee vnder foot. Euery thing hath its Vice, and there must an account be giuen of it. But although I did forbeare him; yet he had so heated me, that out of the warmth of that choller, which yet boyled within me, I could not choose but tell him:

My friend; Doe you see me coated for a Foole; or with a Fooles Cap on my head? Or what else is it that occasions you thus to laugh? He, rather in­creasing, then ceasing his laughter, as if it had beene a taske put vpon him, or The description of laughter. a part that he had beene enioyned to play: so fast it came from him, that ga­ping with his mouth fist-wide, he let his head fall on tone side, (for hee was not able for laughing to hold it vpright:) and laying both his hands as hard as he was able, one while vpon his belly, another on his sides, for feare of burst­ing; he was scarce able to sit vpon his Beast for falling, and seemed with his extreme straining of himselfe, as if he would at euery bout haue come tum­bled downe on the ground.

I was about to answere him some three or foure times, but I could neuer come to doe it: for I no sooner offered to speake vnto him, but he presently [Page 37] fell a fresh to his laughing till he chuck't againe; so did his pot runne ouer, when it once fell a boyling.

God be thanked yet at last, after this great invndation and sudden breaking forth of waters, (that those ouer-flowings of Tagus could not be greater) be­gan to fall by little and little, by patches and by pieces, now a word & then a word, as well as he could, hauing taken a little breath, deliuering his minde by halfes, like one that stumbles and goes, and goes and stumbles, he blunderd forth these words vnto me: My good Youth, I doe not laugh at your ill suc­cesse, nor doe your mis-fortunes glad me any whit at all: but I laugh at that, which hapned to this woman scarce two houres since. Did you happely meet with two young fellowes, that were Camerades, and walkt along together, and seemed by their habit to be Souldiers; the one clad in a medley greene suite; the other in a gray or ash-colour'd cloth, with a white doublet cut to the skin? These two (quoth I) by your description, if my memory doe not faile me, when I left the Inne, remained there behinde, beeing newly come in, when I went my way, and called for their dinner. These then (said the Carrier) are those that haue reuenged your quarrell. And the iest, that they put vpon the Hostesse, is that which I now laugh at. But if you goe my way, get vp vpon one of these beasts; & as we ride along I will tell you how it was. I thankt him for his kindnesse, as I had good cause so to doe, considering my present necessitie, rendring him such good language, as I thought might make sufficient paiment for such a courtesie. For good words requite good workes, when a man is not able to pay him, that he is beholding vnto, in better mo­ney; Kinde words currant money in case of necessity. and that he is in necessitie, to whom the kindnesse is done.

Mounting my selfe then vpon this ill accoutred Gennet, howbeit it was no better then a plaine Asse with a pack-saddle; yet it seemed to me a Silla de manos, or easie hand-Chayre, a Litter or a Coach, drawne with foure horses. For some succour, in case of necessitie, although it bee little, yet it helpeth much; and that which is but a triffle to him that giues, is an infinit supply to him that wants: it is like a little stone, that is throwne into a smooth & cleere water, which makes not only many, but great circles also. And then is a kind­nesse most to be esteemed, when it comes in a good coniuncture, albeit it al­wayes comes well, and neuer too late, so as it come at last. Now (me thought) I saw Heauen opened, and my honest Carrier appearing vnto me in the shape of an Angell. His face was as ioyfull vnto me, as that of the desired Physician is to him that is afflicted with sicknesse. I say, desired; because (as perhaps you may haue heard) a Physician hath three faces. Of a man, when wee see him, and haue no need of him: Of an Angell, when we are sicke, and cannot bee A Physician hath three faces. without him; and of a Diuell, when at one and the selfe-same time our sick­nesse, and our purse ends together, and yet for his priuate interest and to gaine a fee, he followes vs with dayly visits. As it hapned to a Gentleman in Ma­drid, A Tale of a Phy­sician that lou'd money too well. In Spaine your Physicians fee is ordinarily two shillings; t [...]e bet­ter sort giue foure shillings, and the▪ best seldom aboue a [...]rowne. The nature of Scr [...]ants. who hauing sent for a Physician, for a certaine infirmity, where-withall he was troubled, euery visit that he made, gaue him a Crowne. The humour ceased; but his Physician was not in the humour to cease from comming vnto him.

Now the Gentleman, when he saw that he was thorow well, and that his Physician did still continue his Visits, he got him vp one morning very early, and went to Church.

Now, when the Physician came to visit him, and found him not at home, he asked his seruant whither he was gone. He (like a foole as he was) for there are seruants still inow for their Masters hurt, but few for their profit, told him, that he was gone forth to Masse to such a Church. My nimble Doctor, putting spurres to his Mule for to make the more haste, went with all speed to the said Church, and searching for him, at last he found him; and then said vnto him; What a-Gods name, Sir, doe you meane to commit so great an [Page 38] excesse, as to go abroad without my leaue? The Gentleman, who knew well inough what he came for, and seeing that now he had no more need of him, put his hand in his pocket, tooke out his purse, drew foorth a Crowne, and putting it in his hand, told him; Here, take it; (master Doctor) for by the faith of a Gentleman, I now perceiue, that this sacred place cannot priuiledge me from you.

See here, how farre the couetousnesse of a foolish Physician carries him; and how farre the vertue of a quicke and noble disposition, this other Gentleman.

I betooke me to my beast, and fetching my rise, I got vp vpon his backe, and away vve went together: and wee had scarce gone a furlong from the place, but we met with two Church-men that sate there hard by, expecting some passengers, that would carry them on horse-backe towards Caçalla, (for there was their dwelling) and had beene at Seuill about a certaine Suit in Law. By their carriage and their countenance you might well know their good life and their pouertie. They were well spoken men, very kind, and very cour­teous; the one was about some 36. yeeres of age, the other aboue fifty. They made the Carrier stay, they agreed with him; and, doing as I had done be­fore, they got each of them vp vpon his Asse, and wee proceeded on our iourney.

But all this while, so great was the laughter of this honest man, and so ex­cessiue beyond all measure, that he could scarce go on with his tale: for be­twixt euery word he would let go the sluce of his sides, whilest like a Flood that furiously breakes foorth, his laughing suddenly flushes out vpon him: and as in houses, where men vittaile vpon the way, a man shall meet many times with a bare couple of Hens onely amongst fiue hundred persons; and see what they want in good cheere, they make vp with good mirth: so this mans laughter was three-fold more then his discourse; so farre did his spleene out-talke his tongue. These his delayes were so many Speares in my sides; euery deferring was a farther prouoking: so that I was all this while vpon thornes. For he that hath a longing desire to know a thing, vvould willingly haue one word come treading on the heeles of another; and with a quicke and nimble pace come (if it were possible) huddling all at once out of the mouth.

Neuer any woman that hath beene with child, did euer more earnestly long for any thing, then I did to know the successe of this businesse. Mee thought I did consume and pine away while I vvas held in this suspence, I could haue burst for anger, that my eares vvere put off, from hauing a pre­sent hearing: for I could not but expect, that some great matter must arise from such a glorious and ingenious Fabricke, as this made show to be. I be­gan to conceit vvith my selfe, whether some fire falne from heauen, had con­sumed the house, and all that was therein: or whether those young fellowes had set the house on fire, and rosted my Hostesse aliue: or at least (for a lesser reuenge could not be taken ofso vile a creature) whether or no they had stript her starke naked, and hung her vp by the heeles vpon an Oliue-tree, and gi­uen her some thousand lashes, till they had left her for dead: for lesser things then these, his laughter could not promise. Howbeit, I must confesse, had I beene then so wise and considerate, as I should haue beene, I ought not to haue Excessiue laugh­ter condemned. look't for any great matter, or to presume that any good thing could proceed from one, that was thus immoderate in his laughter. For euen that which is moderate, doth in a kind of manner, accuse a man of lightnesse, argue indis­cretion, want of iudgement, and store of vanity: but that vvhich is dis-com­posed, and out of Reasons compasse, is (though there be neuer so much occa­sion offered) the marke of a mad-man, and the onely note of an absolute Asse, or complete Foole.

At last (God be thanked) this Mountaine brought foorth its Mouse: in [Page 39] conclusion, he told vs, (but with a thousand stops and iumpes, and his won­ted bounds and curuets of laughing) that he hauing stayd to drinke a little A iest put vpon an Ho [...]esse by two young fel­lowes. wine, and to tarry the comming of a Companion of his, whom he had left be­hind, he perceiued, that the Hostesse of the house brought in on a Plate, a Froyze of sixe egges; three of them starke naught, the other not so bad; which she set before them: and going about to diuide this their Froyze or Tansey in twaine, it seemed vnto them, that it made a certaine kind of resistance, refu­sing (as it were) to be parted, one piece hanging (like torne ragges) at the taile of another. Whereupon, because this seemed to be somewhat a bad signe, and such as they did not vvell like of; they began to search a little more narrowly, vvhat should be the cause thereof. They vvere not long in discoue­ring the truth; for they might discern certaine knobs and knurs in it; which, had it bin any body but my self, he might at first sight haue seen how the world went, and vvhere the fault lay; but being a young Lad, I should easily haue swallowed such a Gudgeon, and should in good manners haue slightly past it ouer. But these vvere a little more curious, and more Court-like, and sifted it out so finely, that they found to their seeming, three little round bumps, like three little Chickens heads all clotted together. And this cleared the doubt; for finding the bils of these pretty fooles somewhat hard growne and none of the tendrest, the pad that lay in the straw vvas presently perceiued. And they taking one of them betweene their fingers, going about to crush and breake it in pieces, it put foorth his bill, and began (though dead) to peepe foorth its head, and spake alowd vnto them, and told them plainely, vvhence, and what he vvas. So they couered the Plate, clapping another thereupon, and vvhispered somewhat in secret amongst themselues: vvhat it vvas, I then knew not, howbeit afterwards it did manifest it selfe; for presently one of them called out, and sayd; Hostesse, haue you any thing else for vs? she had a little before (in their sight) bought a Sabalo, is a knowne fish, and a sauoury, and is called Sabalo, quasi Sapalo à Sapore. In La­tine they call it Alofa, Frista, Clupea. In fresh water it doth vs [...]ally dye. Rondelecio de Piscibus, lib. [...]. cap. 15. Sabalo, (vvhich is a Fish like a Shad) which she had put vpon the ground for to rub off the scales of it, telling them; I haue such a Fish here, vvhereof (if you vvill) I shall spare you a slice or two, other meat haue I none. I pray (mother) said they, broyle it vs quickly then, for we must be gone; and if it stand vvith your good liking, set a price what you will haue for it all, and vve vvill carry it home along vvith vs. She said, it being cut out into pieces, euery slice wil yeeld me a Royal, and I cannot bate you a farthing of it. They said, No: they thought it vvas too much, one Royall profit in the vvhole, vvere very good gaines.

At last they agreed for two Royals; for a bad pay-master neuer reckons vvhat he receiueth, nor stands a hucking for that, vvhich he is to take vp vp­on trust. It vvent against her heart to let them haue it so, howbeit the gaine of two Royals in foure, for so short a time as she layd it out of her purse, did worke much vvith her, and made her vvilling at last to let them haue it. She cuts it out into pieces, broyles two of them, they eate it, the rest they vvrapt vp in a Napkin of her owne; and after they had fill'd their bellies, being not vvell contented with their ill vsage, in stead of paying their Reckoning, they reckoned vvithout paying. For one of the young fellowes, taking the Froyze of egges in his right hand, vvent directly thither where the old vvoman was vnpanching the belly of an old rotten sheepe, that had dyed in some ditch, to make thereof Tripes and Chitterlings, or (as the Spanish word hath it) Mondongo, is a [...]odge-podge made of the in­trailes and trot­ters of a sheepe, or other beast, boyled, and sold at euery corner of the streets in Spaine to poore folkes. Mon­dongo's; and vvith all the force that he had, threw it full in the face of her, see­ling vp both her eyes therewith, which looked like an old vvall all to bedaw­bed with rough-cast. Which plaistred eyes of hers, he had made so blind and painefull vnto her, that not daring to open them, she cryed out, as if shee had beene mad, whilest this his other Companion, behauing himselfe, as if he had rebuked him for it, and that he might be ashamed to vse a poore old woman in this vnciuill kind of fashion, threw me a handfull of hot ashes in the very [Page 40] face of her, and so they got them out of dores, telling her, as they went away; Ah you old rotten Carrion, Qui en tal haze, que tal pague, you are now payd in your owne money: what you got by your coozening, you may now put it in your eye.

She was toothlesse, chap-falne, hollow-eyed, and wappering withall, her haire sluttishly hanging about her eares, vnkempt, and as greazie, as it vvas knotty; a fouler Swine no man euer saw: mealed she was all ouer, like a Mul­let dressed with Flowre, or a Flounder that is ready for the frying-pan; with a gesture so graciously scuruie, a looke so pleasantly fierce, and in all the rest so handsomely ill-fauoured, that as oft as you shall but thinke either of it or her, you cannot (if your life should lye vpon it) but you must needes burst foorth into laughter.

With this, he ended his storie, telling vs, that he had now matter inough to laugh at all the dayes of his life. Whereunto I answered; And I to weepe. Why, quoth he? Because when time was, I did not do the like: but like a co­ward (as I was) suffered my reuenge to come from anothers hand. But I vow (if God giue me life and health) it shall cost her deare; I will make her pay for the old and the new; I will haue my penny-woorths out of her, and make my selfe that full amends, that the longest day she ha's to liue, she shall thinke vp­on the egges, and the Youth.

The good honest Clergie-men much condemned their Hostesse, and did as much reprooue my speech; for that I seemed to be grieued, that I had not done her a mischiefe. They both set themselues against me, and turning to­wards me, the ancienter of the two, seeing mee so angry and full of choler, spake thus vnto me:

Your hot and young blood moues you to say that, vvhich your owne good nature and ingenuous disposition vvill by and by confesse to be ill: and I hope in God, that I shall worke so much good vpon you, that you will be sorry for the present, for what you haue sayd, and study to correct hereafter, not onely the acting of any such violent deed, but the very thought of it.

Saint Mathew in the fift Chapter of his holy Gospell, and S. Luke in his A discourse tou­ching the pardo­ning of m [...]s. sixt, reade vs this Lesson; Loue your enemies, and do good to them that hate you. Wherein you are first to consider, that the Euangelist doth not say, Doe good vnto those, that do ill vnto you; but he sayth; Do good to them that hate you. For suppose that your enemy should hate you, yet is it impossible that he should hurt you, vnlesse you will your selfe. For, it being an infallible truth, that we are to account those as true goods, which are to continue for euer: and that those which faile vs to morrow, (as they often do) are more proper­ly T [...]ue good is that which is ete [...]all. to be called euils, for the ill vse which vve make of them: since that in the trust that we haue in them, & nos ipsos, & illa amittimus, wee lose both them and our selues. We may reckon these our enemies, to be our best friends; and The goods of this [...]orld are not good. these our friends to be our greatest enemies; in regard of the effects which a­rise from the one and the other: for, from our enemies, ariseth all our true good; and from our friends, our assured hurt. Wee may plainely perceiue, A faithful friend, what go [...]d he may do [...]s. how that the greatest good that we can draw from the faithfullest friend that we haue in this world, can be no more, then to pleasure vs, either with his purse, by giuing vs all that he hath; or by his life, by employing it in those things that giue vs content; or by his honour, by not sticking to hazard that for vs, when our reputation shall lie at the stake. In which two latter none will aduenture themselues; or there are so few of them to be found, that I doubt we shall not be able to produce any example in these times wherein we liue. But say it were so indeed, and that there were some such kind of men now adayes, and should iumpe together in all these three repeated particu­lars, when they haue done all that they can, it is much lesse (if in that which is not at all, a magis and a minus; a more, or a lesse, may be found) then a Geo­metricall [Page 41] point. For, when he hath giuen me all that hee hath in this world, (were it neuer so much) it is too small a substance to free me from hell. Be­sides, men do not now adayes spend their wealth, and their riches vpon the vertuous, but such as are conditioned like themselues, and assist them in their sinnes; and these are the friends that they reckon of, and to these their purse is open.

If for my sake, my friend should lose his life, one minute of time is not ad­ded thereby vnto mine; if he should put his honour in perill, nay say, he should be willing to lose it quite for his loue to me, I say, that is not honour, nor may it be so called: for true honor is that, vvhich is ingaged in the seruice of God; and whatsoeuer is otherwise, and hath not some reference thereunto, is false and euill. So that, whatsoeuer my friend shall throw vpon me, being it is temporall and of no continuance, it is vnprofitable, vaine, and of little or no woorth at all. But my enemy, proues all pure wheat; all turnes to profit, that comes from him to me; so that my selfe will be willing to make true vse The good we re­ceiue from our enemies. thereof. For from his ill-wishing to me, doe I come to wish well vnto him; and therefore God will vvish well againe vnto me, and do me good, (though I deserue ill) for that I do good for ill. If I pardon him a light iniury, to me are forgiuen and remitted an infinit number of sinnes; and if he speake ill of me, and I speake well of him, his euill language cannot hurt me; and his bit­ter tongue shall bring me a blessing; Come ye blessed of my Father, &c. So that by his thoughts, words, and workes, my enemy makes mine to be good and true.

And what is the cause, thinke you, of this so great a wonder, and whence is the force of this so excellent a vertue? I shall tell it you, because it is a thing commanded by God, because it is his expresse will and commandement so to do. And if we are to obserue that of the Princes of this world, much better (without comparison) is it, to keep that which is commanded vs by the King of heauen: before vvhom are humbled all the hearts both of heauen and earth. And that saying of his, I command you this, is a Gods cōmande­ments are sweet. sweet conserue, which is applied to the distasted palate of him that is commanded. As if the Physi­cians should prescribe their sicke Patients to take flowres of Oranges, young preserued Wall-nuts, buds of Limmons, rindes of Pome-Citrons, the rootes of wild The Spanish word is Escor­zonera. This [...]rbe the I a­ [...]es call Vipe­rina, a species of that which they call Barba de Cabron. It is called Escor­zonera, be­cause it is good against the ve­nyme of Toades, and all other ve­nymous Vermin; and amongst the rest, the Viper. This Plant was first found out in Spaine in Ca­talunna, by a slaue of Barba­ry. And in har­uest-time men be­ing slung by Vi­pe [...]s, they gaue them the iuyce of this herbe, wher­with they were healed. There is excellent good now in this kind, in the Sierras de Cuenca in Spaine. Vide Mathiolo, lib. 2. cap. 137. Et Couarru­uias, verb. Es­co [...]zonera. We must obay God. Borage, or Buglosse. What shall I say more? O my good Lord, doe not giue me any such thing! for a body that is strong and in health, can by no meanes away with it, but is rather vnpleasing then otherwise. But for the better swallowing of these Pilles, and to make the rellish the sweeter, they are so well candyed and rolled vp in Sugar, that what was hard in it selfe to be taken downe, is now become sweet and sauoury vnto vs. The like effect doth this sweet Conserue of Gods Word worke with vs. I commend (saith the Text) that ye loue your enemies. This is a dainty Sauce, made for that soure Morsell, which before was so vnsauoury to our tastes. So that, that which goes most against our stomackes, and which flesh and blood can hardly in­dure, by reason of its bitternesse, being to our concupiscences and fleshly de­sires, no better then very Gall and Worm-wood; The Spirit tels vs in the voyce of a good Physician, now it is made more pleasant, more sauoury and sweeter for you, since that Christ our Redeemer hath so commanded it. So that if a man should now strike me on the one cheek, I would turne the other: for it is an honour vnto vs punctually to obserue those orders which are deli­uered vnto vs by those that are set in authority ouer vs, and not to breake them in the least branch or tittle.

A Generall doth command one of his Captaines, that he make good such a strong place or passage, by which the enemy is to passe; where, if he will him­selfe, it shall be in his power to ouercome him, and to kill him: but his Gene­rall tels him; Take heed, I charge you, for it much importeth my Seruice, and [Page 42] it is my pleasure so to haue it, that when he shall passe by you, you offend him not, but let him goe quietly along, notwithstanding that he should giue you cause to the contrarie, and prouoke you all that he can to fight with him.

Now when this his enemy shall passe thus along by him, and shall braue him to his face, and reuile him with reprochfull and iniurious termes, calling this Captaine Coward, and other the like disgracefull names, will this Cap­taine (thinke you) though thus mightily abused, and affronted in the face of the whole Armie, offer him hereupon any offence at all, or violently set vpon him? No certainly: But he will rather laugh at him, as a Braggadoccio, and vaine-boaster; and though he could easily haue ouerthrowne him, and kill'd him at pleasure; yet he doth it not onely because he would keepe that Order which was giuen vnto him: And if he should haue broken it, he had done ve­ry ill, and contrary to his duty, and therefore had well deserued to be puni­shed for it. What reason then is it, that we should not diligently obserue the orders and ordinances, giuen vs by God? Why should we goe about to breake them; or seeke euen in the least kinde of manner to contradict them? If a Captaine, for his pay onely, and vpon hope of some better preferment (which is a hazzard, whether he shall euer attaine there-unto or no) shall bee so punctuall: why should not we be as obseruant, since we shall gaine thereby God rewardeth the obedient. a celestiall reward, which is reserued for vs? Especially, since that hee that made the Law, had the first handsell of it himselfe, and submitted himselfe thereunto, by suffering and receiuing from that vnhallowed and sacrilegious hand of an vnder-officer, a great buffet on that most sacred face of his, with­out returning him so much as an euill word, or any angry looke.

If God himselfe could be content to indure such rough vsage, and pocket it vp with so much patience: Why should this same Nada del hombre, this same nothing of man, this res nihili, why I say should he be puffed vp with pride, Man ought to be humble, not proud. transported with passion, and stand vpon his puntos, and termes of honour? And why, for to receiue satisfaction of a poore silly word, shot out vn-awares, or aduisedly; or howsoeuer (complaining of the infinitenesse of the wrong) breaking forth into rage, should one Christian challenge the field of another, seeking amongst Infidels, as if he were one of them himselfe, a The Duell, in Spaine is a capitall crime. And therefore the Spaniards, when they [...]1 the Field, g [...]e into Barba­ry to end their quarrell. place, where to fight it out; or (to speake more truely) to thrust themselues wilful­ly into the hands of the Diuell their mortall enemy, flying from those of their Creator?

Of whom we may learne, that when he was to leaue this world, and was to seale his last Will and Testament, he suffered himselfe to bee nayled to the Crosse, his body to be bored, his flesh to be torne, being full of paine, and go­red all in bloud, from the sole of his foot, euen to the crowne of his head, whose haire did cleaue to his most precious bloud, being congealed and clod­ded together in hard-plotted Knots, and matted, as it were, with the cruell wounds, occasioned by that his sharpe thorny crowne, which they scornefully crowned him withall. And when he was to take his leaue of his Mother, and A lesson for the forgiuing of our enemies. that his beloued Disciple, amongst other his last words that he vttered, as it were by way of his last request, and charge vnto them, and in that his violent and extreme agony, which was then plucking vp his soule by the rootes from his diuine body, he prayed vnto his eternall Father, that hee would pardon those that had thus persecuted him, and put him to this so shamefull and pain­full a death.

This mildnesse of our Sauiour, was imitated by Saint Christopher: who, Saint Christo­pher his [...]wer to one that [...] him. when he had a sound boxe on the eare giuen him, calling that to mind, which his Master had before receiued, told him that strooke him; If I were not a Christian, I would be reuenged on thee. So that reuenge then, is a member put apart from the children of the Church our Mother.

The like blowe was giuen to Saint Bernard in the presence of his brethren; S. Bernards saying, touching the suffering of i [...]ies. [Page 43] and they being very earnest to reuenge this wrong done vnto him, hee ranne in amongst them, telling them, It is not fit, that we should reuenge the iniuries done vs by others, when as wee doe all day-long, kneeling humbly on our knees, craue pardon for our owne offences.

Saint Steuen, when they were stoning him to death, doth not grieue for S. Steuen prayes for his persecutors. those cruell blowes, which bereaue him of his life; but his sorrow was, to see that these bloudy Ministers should lose their soules; and grieuing for them, desires God, euen then, when the pangs of death were vpon him, that hee would pardon his persecutors, and Saul especially; who being deceiued, and zealous of his Law, thought to merit heauen by looking to the Cloakes and other cloathes belonging to those that were the Executioners; to the end that hauing nothing to hinder their armes, they might, being ridde of those lets, wound him with the greater force.

And so feruent was his Prayer; that this glorious Apostle Saint Paul vvas afterwards reduced to the faith; who like a wise Doctor, well experienced in S. Paul teacheth vs to forgiue our enemies. this doctrine, finding it to be so necessary a thing, and so much importing our saluation, as nothing more, giues vs this good counsell: That we should for­get and lay aside all anger; that we should not suffer the Sunne to goe downe vpon our wrath. Rather blesse then curse your persecutors: Giue them to eate, if they suffer hunger; and if they be a-thirst, giue them drinke: which if you shall not doe, the same measure that you mete vnto others, shall be mete vnto you againe: and as you forgiue, so shall you be forgiuen.

The Apostle Saint Iames saith; Without mercy shall they be iudged, that haue no mercy: and the rigour of iustice shall be returned on those that are S. Iames in­structeth vs to be mercifull. rigorous.

Very fearefull of the breach of this diuine precept, was Constantine the Great; who, when one told him, how his enemies, to affront him, had in con­tempt Constantine the Great, & his great patience. and scorne of him, throwne stones at his picture, wounding him with their strokes in the head and the face; so great was his modesty, that neglect­ing the iniury, he began to touch & feele with his hands from place to place all the seuerall parts of his body: Asking, when he had so done; What are be­come of these blowes; where are those wounds you talk off? I feele none, nor haue I any paine of all those thou tell'st me, they haue done vnto me. Giuing thereby to vnderstand, that there is no dishonour done to any, but to him that will esteeme it so. Besides, he was willing thereby to inferre, that who­soeuer does thee an iniury, shall not scape scot-free, or goe cleere away with it, though thou doe not reuenge it; nay, though thou for thy part shouldst pardon the wrong that he hath done thee: For what iniury he hath offered vnto thee, he hath likewise offered the like vnto God, whose, both thou and he art. Duenno tiene est a hazienda; these goods haue an owner; And therefore you must not be your owne caruers. For, if in a Princes Palace, or a Kings Court, any affront shal be done, it is likewise done vnto the Lord thereof: nor shall the pardon of him that is affronted be sufficient absolutely to excuse the other, because by that indiscreet act of his, and inferred iniury, are likewise iniured the lawes of that Prince, the good gouernment of his house questio­ned, and his Kingdome scandalized thereby. And therefore God saith, Re­uenge God fauoureth and defendeth the wronged. belongeth vnto me; and when I see my time, I shall punish the offen­der: Vengeance is mine, and mine owne hands shall execute the same. Wret­ched then is that man, who is thus threatned; for if Gods owne hands shall giue him his chastisement, better had it beene that he had neuer beene borne. So that thou must neuer requite ill with ill, vnlesse thou wilt that ill shall light vpon thy selfe. Moreouer, thou shalt merit much thereby, and thou shalt be thine owne pay-master: for, by imitating him that commandeth thee, thou shalt be made like vnto him. Giue way therefore to the ire and fury of your persecutors, that you may merit Gods fauour: Thanke him for these out­rages [Page 44] and wrongs that are done you, and you shall in requitall receiue glory: and obtaine eternall rest.—And there he rested.—

I would fame haue committed to memory that good doctrine which hee deliuered vnto me to this purpose, that I might repeat it heere vnto you. For it was all heauenly stuffe. Fine, most fine holy Scripture. From that time forward I vnfeignedly propounded to my selfe to make true profit thereof. And if it be well considered, he spake very home, and well vnto mee. What greater [...]uenge can there be, then that a man may be reuenged if hee will? Injury, how foule a thing it is. Posse, nolle, nobile, is as true a saying as it is old: And what thing can bee more foule then reuenge, being that it is a passion of iniustice? And such a one, as none is more odious in the sight both of God and Man? For it is onely proper vnto brute beasts. Reuenge is but a kinde of cowardize, and a certain Reuenge, what it is. Actus foeminilis, an effeminate Act, and womanish kinde of weakenesse: Whereas the forgiuing of a wrong, is a glorious kinde of Victory. The re­uengefull man makes himselfe the Reus, when by pardoning, he might bee made the Actor; that is, in stead of an Accuser, the Accused. What greater presumption can there be in the world, then that the creature should vsurpe the office of his Creator? appropriating that vnto him, which is none of his; and going away (as we say) with another mans wealth, whereunto hee hath no right in the world? If thou thy selfe art not thine owne, nor in thine owne Man hath no­thing that is his, no [...] so much as himselfe. disposall; neither hast thou any thing of thine owne in thee, that he, who (as thou sayst) hath offended thee, can take from thee. Such actions as these, thou canst not commence thy selfe, they belong vnto thy Lord, which is God: Leaue vengeance therefore vnto him. God will take it of the wicked, tar­diùs aut citiùs, at one time or another, early or late. And that cannot bee ter­med too late, which is in a continuall inclination to its end. And to take it out of his hands, is a heynous offence, a mighty mis-regard, and a contempt in the highest degree.

But admit satisfaction should belong vnto thee, and that the Law were in thine owne hands; tell me, I pray thee, What thing can be more noble, then to doe good? And what more good, then not to do ill? One onely, which is this; To doe good vnto him, that doth ill vnto thee, and doth persecute thee, as it is commanded vs, which we are bound to obey. For, to repay ill with ill, is the Diuels office; to doe good to him, that doth good vnto thee, is a natu­rall debt betweene man and man; nay, the wilde beasts of the Forrest doe ac­knowledge as much, and doe not waxe furious against those, that do not seeke to hurt them. But to procure and worke that mans good, that would doe thee a mischiefe, and cut thy throat, if it were in his power to doe it; this is opus supernaturale, a worke aboue the reach of nature: it is that diuine Lad­der, whereby we climbe vp by the rounds of Charitie, to glorious Eterni­tie; it is that key of the crosse, which openeth the gates of Heauen: it is the soules sweet peace; and the bodies quiet rest. But reuenge is a life with­out quietnesse; one cals vpon another, and all vnto death. Is not he a foole, nay, worse then a mad-man, who, if his doublet chance to wring him, will thrust his ponyard into his owne body? And what other thing is reuenge, then to doe ill vnto our selues, out of a desire to doe ill vnto others? And to plucke out both our owne eyes, to put out one of our enemies? Or to spit a­gainst heauen, that it may presently fall againe in our owne faces? Seneca vn­derstood Seneca's saying touching e [...]nge. this doctrine wonderfull well, when an enemy of his hauing giuen him a boxe of the eare in the Market-place, and all that saw it, did incite him to complaine thereof vnto the Iustice; he smiling vpon them, said vnto them, Were it not a foolish part in me (thinke you) to call a beast into the Court? As if he should haue said, With that buffet, hee like a beast did expresse his rage; and I like a man, did scorne and contemne this his brutish behauiour. Can there be any brutishnesse greater then to doe ill? Or can there bee any [Page 45] greatnesse like vnto that, which shall despise the ill that is done him, and set light by it?

The Duke of Orleans hauing formerly beene iniured by one, when he was The French Kings answere. afterward King of France, he was put in minde, that hee might now be re­uenged of the wrong he then receiued: for now it was in his power to doe it. But he, looking sowrely on him that did so aduise him, told him; it was not fit, that the King of France, should reuenge the wrongs of the Duke of Orleans. If, for a man to conquer himselfe, be counted so great a Victory; Fortior, qui se, quàm qui fortissima vin­cit moenia. Why, by subduing our appetites, allaying our anger, and rebating our ran­cour; doe not we gaine vnto our selues this glorious Palme? Since that, (be­sides that which is promised vnto vs in the future) euen in this life also, wee shall auoid many mischiefes, which may either take away our life from vs, or rob vs of this our vaine honour, and consume our wealth. O good God, had I beene a good Lad, that which I heard from that good man, I might haue been the better for it all the dayes of my life. But I was young, and past it quickly ouer; that treasure was ill bestow'd vpon me, I lost it; it was corne that fell in the high-way, it did not thriue with me. His good conuer­sation and doctrine entertained vs to Cantillana, whither we came about Sun-set: I with a good desire to my Supper, and my Companion with an earnest expectation to haue his, but that neuer came. The two Clergie men made their ranke apart, and went to a friends house that they were acquain­ted withall in the Towne, and we to our Inne.

CHAP. V.

WHen the Company, that came along with vs, had left vs, and were gone euery man his way; I askt my Camerade, Whither shall we goe now? He told me. Here's an honest Host hard by, one of my old acquaintance, a good-fellow, where we shall be well lodged, fare daintily, and kindly en­tertained. Well, along we trudge together, till we came to this his so much commended Inne, hauing brought me (as you shall heare hereafter) to one of the veryest theeues, and arrantest knaues, that there was not such another in all that part of the Country wher­in he liu'd.

Heere new occasion of matter was offered, fresh plates set vpon the boord, and such prouision, as you may therewith well entertaine the time. Was I not (thinke you) in fine taking when I leapt out of the Frying-pan into the fire; and fell into Scilla, seeking to shunne Charibdis? Our Host had for his owne vse a good strong Asse, and a Galitian Mare, that was a pretty little Tit. And because men in their necessitie, doe not stand vpon beauty, youth, nor pompe of apparell; but content themselues onely with Night-caps, when their heads are mangie and scabbed; it is no maruell, if the like should happen euen amongst brute beasts. They were alwayes fellow-feeders in one Stable, one Racke, and one Field; and he that was owner of them, tooke no great heed to haue them tyde fast, but let them go loose of purpose to the end, that they might helpe the other Beasts in the Inne in the repeating of their lessons. Whereby it came to passe that this Mare grew great with Foale, by li­uing at large amongst this good company.

[Page 46] It is an inuiolable law in Andaluzia, That no such Coniunction, or Commix­ture A Law in An­daluzia against the [...]aturall couering in hor­ses. be permitted; and to this end, grieuous penalties are ordained. This Mare then, hauing in her due time foaled a pretty young Mule, mine Host was willing to make profit thereof, and to that end nourished and bred it vp. He kept this businesse very secret some certaine dayes, and was wonderfull care­full, that it might not come to light: but because he saw it was not possible for him to hide this matter long, and to keepe it from the knowledge of the world, that he might not giue his enemies aduantage of reuenge; carried a­way partly with the feare of his owne hurt, and partly with the greedinesse of gaine, he resolued (this last Friday night) to kill him. He cuts me out the flesh of it into pieces, which he powders vp in a pickle made of purpose, and made ready against the next day, (being Saturday) for his Ghests: partes mi­nutiores huius animalis, vt pedes, ilia, venter, &c. all the intrailes and offals of These things are commonly eaten in Spaine vpon Saturdayes, by a custome receiued amongst them. this beast; as feet, tripes, the cragge-end of the necke, tongue, braine, and the like. We (as I told you) came to our Inne in a very good hower: for he that trauailes, takes contentment vpon the way, that hee may come into his Inne betimes, that he may haue meat to fill his empty guts, and a bed to rest his weary bones.

My Companion, as soone as he had alighted and taken off his lading, and put vp all things safe, sets vp his Asses in the Stable, taking order for their dressing and their feeding. But I came thither so wearied, that I was not able when I lighted, to stand vpon my legges, but was faine to lie downe on the Vneasie riding causeth wearines. ground, and was not able for a great while to turne my selfe any way in the world. For all my muscles and sinewes were quite benum'd, my legges and feet swolne, vvith their long hanging downe for lacke of Stirrops, my breech extremely gall'd, my parts neerer my priuities full of paine, as if so many nee­dles had beene stucke in my Groyne; my body was all out of ioynt; but of all other parts, my belly (for pure hunger) did most pitifully complaine.

Now when my Companion had ordered his beasts of burthen, and had ea­sed them of their carriages, and had done all things fitting for one of his pro­fession, my turne was next to be serued, and therefore said vnto him; How now (my Camerade) what thinke you of the motion? Is it not high-time (thinke you) to go to Supper? He answered, It was; the motion he told me, was very good, and that it was high time indeed: for he meant to bee stir­ring very early the next morning, and to reach betimes to Caçalla, and so to lade, and away. We ask't our Host, if he had any thing in the house for our supper? He answered, He had; adding withal, that we should fare very dainti­ly. He was a burly-kind of man, yet of a stirring metall, nimble-witted, cheer­full both in his speech and countenance, an eternall talker, but aboue all a What a manner of creature our Host was. most excellent Villaine. His promising person (I confesse) did deceiue mee: for, seeing so good a presence, and not hauing knowne him before, the Spot at first sight, made show of a good Card. And hearing him say, that he could feast vs brauely, my very heart and soule did leape for ioy within mee: Oh, they were comfortable words! Whereupon, I began with my selfe to giue thankes vnto God, reuerencing his holy Name, for that after our troubles he giues vs ease; after sicknesse, health; after a storme, a calme; after sorrow, ioy; and a good Supper, after a bad dinner.

I know not, whether I may well tell you or no, of a toung-errour, but a witty one, which came from a plaine country-fellow, whom I knew in Olias, being a certaine Village belonging to Tol [...]do? yet I shall make bold to tell it you, as well for that the thing in it selfe is not scandalous, as also for that it proceeded from the sincere heart of an Old Christians in Spaine are counted the best, by way of diffe­rence from the Moores, whom they call new Christians, as being but lately co [...]rted. A [...] of a coun­try fellow. old Christian.

There were certaine good fellowes playing at Primera, and the third ha­uing discarded, the second cride, I am Prime; God be thanked yet at last, that I haue got one game since I playd, said hee, that had the Prime. The other [Page 47] Country-fellow that was in the interim drawing his Cards, when he had puld them, found them to be all of one linage, and being glad that he had got the hand of him, suddenly brake soorth at that very instant, and sayd; Not so much God be thanked neither, as you thinke for; for I am Flush. If such a disparate, or idle toy as this, being not purposely spoken with either due mea­sure, or to any certain end, but by meere chance, as it were, may be brought vpon the Stage; this is its proper place, and the Scene well layd here, conside­ring what befell vs. Its very well, (said my Companion) to mine Host; Now and thou beest a good fellow, tell me, I pray thee, what dainty morsell hast thou prouided for vs? This Socarron; el vellaco dis­simulado, que solo pretende su interes, y quando habla con vos, os està secreta­mente abra­sando. Socarron, this dissembling Rascall, that was all for his commodity, & cared not (so as he might get by him) whom he cooze­ned, told him; Yesterday I kill'd a very delicate fine young Calfe; which, be­cause the Damme thereof was very weake; and by reason, (through the dri­nesse of the yeere) that he wanted feeding, he caused this Calfe to be kill'd af­ter it was some eight dayes old. The offals; and the intrailes are ready drest, take what you please. After this, crying out Presto, bee gone, lifting vp his legges, and fetching a friscall or two, he flyes away in the ayre in a trice, clap­ping his heeles with his hands as he runnes along. With this, my heart be­gan to be somewhat lighter then it was before, and it did reioyce me much to heare him say, that he had the Calues intrailes; the very naming whereof, did make my Bowels to moue within me. And now taking leaue of my for­mer wearinesse, looking cheerily vpon him, I said vnto him; Mine Host, bring vs what you thinke good.

Thereupon, the Cloth was laid in the turning of an hand, our Linnen was cleane; and our bread was not so bad as before, but our wine was passing good: we had also a fresh Sallad set vpon the Board in a faire Plate; but for such washie Tripes as mine then were, I held it no good meate. And had it beene spared by me, either for any of the intrailes, or any one foot of a Calfe, it would neuer haue grieu'd me. But these premises might deceiue any dis­creet iudgement whatsoeuer, making the taste of an hungry appetite drun­ken with the very conceit of his promised fare. The Italian, by way of ad­uice, giues vs this good lesson; That in the promises of Women, Mariners, and Inne-keepers, we should place small confidence: for they that are giuen to commend themselues, and their owne things, (as all these vsually do) they do all (guessing the whole by the greater part) generally lye. Af­ter he had set downe the Sallad, he brings vs in two little Plates, in each of which lay a little of this same Calues-plucke, I say, a little; for he was afraid to giue vs too much▪ lest through too much plenty, hunger being satisfied, and the belly glutted, we might more easily come to the knowledge of this deceit of his.

Leading vs thus ley surely along, we follow the sent we first ran vpon, and it seemed to our taste, that we still did eate, according to that conceit, which wee had intertained of this our supposed tender Veale; and the more wee thought thereon, the greater edge was set vpon our appetite; and as wee had a longing desire thereunto, so by degrees wee were still calling for the same hand againe. For my Companion, there was no care to be taken for him, all meates were alike to him; for he was borne amongst Sauage people, and bred The defect which is in Country peo­ple in their see­ding. vp by brutish Parents, whose palate was seasoned from the cradle with a cloue of Garlicke; and your rude rusticall Clownes, (as a thing not belonging to their either goodnesse or cleanlinesse) in matter of taste can seldome distin­guish ill from good. To most of them, there is a want of perfection in their Senses; and albeit they see, yet do they not see that, which they ought to see: and though they heare, yet do they not heare that which they ought to heare: and so in the rest; but more particularly in the tongue, which was not giuen them to murmure against any man, much lesse against those, that are gentle [Page 48] and noble, as well in their disposition, as their descent. But these kindes of vn-nurtured people are like vnto Dogs, who snatch and snap at euery thing, swallowing all that comes in the compasse of their chaps, without chewing: or like vnto the Ostrich, that will deuoure a horse-shoo, though it bee neuer so red hot. And if a double-soled shoo, which had done seruice three Winters in Madrid, treading thorow thicke and thinne; lodo y mierda, durt and turds had beene set before such a fellow as this, he would haue made no bones of it, nor found no difference in the going downe of it. But that I, who was dain­tily brought vp, and borne of ciuill parents, and such as were neat and curi­ous in their dyet, that I should not find out this deceit, my hunger must needs be great; and this must excuse my errour. The desire that I had to eate some­thing that was good, was exceeding great, so that euery thing seemed too lit­tle to feed mine eyes. This cunning Rogue, mine Host, gaue it vs by way of distillation, Limbecke-fashion, now a little, and then a little: and there­fore The Hosts craft. it is no such wonder, had it had farre greater defects, that it should seeme vnto me a well-ordered Banquet.

Haue you not heard it sayd, Que à la hambre, no ay mal pan? That all bread is sauoury to the hungry? I say, all seemed to me to be Suckets, and Marma­late; and me thought I should neuer haue enough to fill my belly. I deman­ded, if he had any thing else: He told me, we might (if wee would) haue the braines fryed, with some butter and egges. We told him, we would: but we are slower in telling him so, then he in going about it; nay, almost in the dres­sing of it. In the meane while, lest we might not catch cold with standing still, like your Poste-horses when they haue run their stage; he gaue vs to in­tertaine the time withall, a piece of flesh folded and rolled vp, made out of the Tripes, (after the fashion of your rosted Oliues of Veale) together with some of the Filme and rinde of the belly. I did not like the taste of it halfe wel; it smelled (me thought) like rotten straw that's throwne out vpon the dung­hill. Whereupon I thrust it from me, leauing it to my Companion, who entred roundly vpon it, deuouring it as greedily, as a man would grapes, comming into a Vineyard in the time of Vintage. Nor did it grieue mee a­whit to see him fall to it so lustily, but was rather very glad of it, thinking by this meanes, that when he had beene full-fed therewith, a greater part of the braines would fall to my share. But it fell out contrary to my expectation; for he had neuer awhit the more cloyd his panch, nor did hee cease to lay a­bout him with as good a stomacke, as if he had not all the day, nor night be­fore, eaten so much as one morsell of bread.

The egges and the braines were set vpon the Board; and when my honest Carrier saw this fine Froyze, he began, according to his old wont, to laugh out alowd, with as wide a throat, as you can imagine. I did fret, and fume, and chafe with my selfe out of all cry, conceiting with my selfe, that he made himselfe merry with my miserie, and tooke delight, to represent to my re­membrance A guilty Consci­ence is [...]uermore suspicious, and full of feare. those former loathsome things, that had lately ouerthrowne my stomacke.

Our Host thereupon looking very soberly on vs both, with a watchfull eye obseruing our behauiour, and with an itching eare, listening to heare what we sayd; seeing his dis-composed laughter so ill seasoned, and vn-occasioned, (as he thought) was much mooued thereat; fearing, that hee had found out his Knauery: for vntill then, there was not any matter offered, that might mooue occasion of laughter. And therefore he was ielous, that the Foxe was now vn-earthed, and this must needs be it. And because a guilty person car­ries his Traer la bar­ba sobre el ombro: Viuir recatado, y con recelo, co­mo hazen los que tienen e­nemigos, que van bolviendo el rostro à vn lado, y al otro, de donde na­çio el refran. Beard euermore vpon his shoulder; & vmbrae suae imagine concuti­tur, and is afraid of his owne shadow; because his owne conscience doth ac­cuse him; and the committed fault, represents the deserued punishment: E­uery the least act, or inkling of any thing whatsoeuer, he imagineth, that it is [Page 49] all meant against him; and that the very ayre doth whistle foorth his offence, and publisheth it to all the world.

This poore Rogue, (albeit a very villaine) hardened in roguery, and habi­tuated in mischiefe, and being steeped, and layen long in soke, (as it were) in thefts, and all kinds of coozenages, was now out of heart, and grew silly and weake-spirited, and was ready to quake for feare. Besides, such kind of men are commonly Cowards, and haue onely an outside of men, but no man­hood at all. Why is it (thinke you) that some men hacke and hew, and threa­ten to kill and slay, and like Tygres lay about them? I will tell you the reason of it. They do this, not out of true metall, but to make others afraid, and to supply by this roaring carriage; the defect of their courage: being like herein, vnto dogges; whereof, those that are barkers, are the least biters: they are like your little Meliteos si dizen, porque se [...]hian de Malta. Melitean dogges, or a kind of foysting-Hounds, which are made all of noyse and barking; but if you turne towards them, they clap their taile betweene their legges, and runne away. Our Host was (as I haue told you) much troubled; for feare, suspicion, and ielousie, is a propertie, that is still incident to an euill liuer. He had quite lost his stirrops, nor did he know how or which way to recouer his seat; but began to sweare with many great and horrible oathes that it was very good Veale that hee had set before vs, and that we had no iust cause, nor reason to laugh as we did; and if need were, I could bring you an hundred witnesses to testifie as much.

These words he vttered with much passion; with a face as red as fire, that the blood seemed to trickle downe his cheekes, and sparkles to flash for very anger foorth his eyes. The Carrier lifting vp his head and looking earnestly vpon him, told him; Who medles with you, (my friend) what wrong haue we done you, that you are so cholericke? We do not touch vpon you, no not so much as to aske you how you do, or how A Metaphor borrowea from women, who can­not ab [...]ae to be [...], how old they are. old you are? Haue you any The Spanish word is Aran­zel, which is a Decree, or Law, which sets a taxe vpon such things as are solde. Tabula est, vbi scribitur ordo & pretium re­rum venalium. deriued of a. ar­ticulo arabico, and rancel, que vale tanto, co­mo decreto, determinçi­on, assiento. The Spaniards fashion of won­dring. Edict, or Proclamation here in the house, that doth set a taxe or rate vpon laughing; or to what proportion and quantitie your ghests shall be tyed to laugh, if at any time he be so disposed, vpon paine of some great forfeit? or is this a generall sessing set thereupon, and you alone haue got the Monopoly thereof into your hands? If it be so, good mine Host, let euery man weepe, or laugh, as he will himselfe; and take that a Gods-name which is your due, and recouer your right of vs by order of Law. I tell you, Sir, you are mistaken in me; for I am of that free disposition, that if I were minded to laugh at any thing of yours, I am not so meale-mouth'd, but I would plainely tell you at what I laught.

These egges now put me in mind of those other, which my Companion here did eate to day at an Inne some three Leagues hence. Then hee vp and told all that had passed, as my selfe before had deliuered vnto him; and that which happened afterwards in his presence, betwixt the old Hostesse, and my two young Souldiers; in the relating whereof, he seemed as if hee had beene bathing himselfe all the while in Rose-water, if a man might iudge the con­tent he tooke in repeating the same, by his passions, his lowd laughters, strange visages, anticke gestures, and the diuersities of postures, in the bow­ing and writhing of his body, all the while that he was telling him this tale. Mine Hoste, he fell as fast a blessing and crossing himselfe, powring out Vol­leys of Exclamations, calling vpon, and often reiterating the name of Iesus, a thousand times one after another, and lifting vp his eyes vnto heauen sayd; Our blessed Lady be my helper; let her still be present with me! Mal haga Dios, à quién mal haze su Oficio, let ill betide him, that performes his fun­ction ill. And because in his Theeueries and his Rogueries he was so good a Proficient, he might rest assured, that this malediction did not belong to him, so well had he exercised that trade all his life-time. Hee began afterwards to walk vp and down, & seeming somtimes to wonder, somtimes to complaine, [Page 50] at last he cryde out; I vvonder a-gods name, that the earth did not open, and swallow vp this Inne? How is it possible, that God should dissemble his an­ger, Mine Host by railing on the old Hostesse, disco­uers the k [...]auery of [...] [...]pers. and forbeare to punish so vile a vvoman? Does this old Witch liue? is she not gone downe quicke to hell? All Trauellers haue iust cause to com­plaine of her; I now see, that all men haue reason to complaine of her ill v­sage; no man comes away contented from her; all finde fault, not one that comes thence well satisfied, but are sorry that euer they came within her doores. Either all her ghests are very bad, or she her selfe: but it is not to bee imagined so many can be all bad; and therefore sure the fault is onely hers.

For these, and other the like tricks, no passenger will stay to bait at her Inne, they haue all set a crosse vpon her doore, they blesse themselues when they goe by, and make large strides till they bee past that wicked house. I sweare vnto you, she should be soundly whipt, if she were well seru'd, that all other coozening queanes, such as she is, might take example by her. Her Signe was once pull'd downe, and order taken, that shee should not keepe victualling any more. And I much wonder, that she turning againe to the old byas, the officers returne not againe to punish her anew.

There is something in it, as the Ant said, but what it is I cannot tell you, that makes her to doe as she does. There must be some mysterie in it, what euer it be: for she robs and coozens with the like liberty to day, as she did ye­sterday; and now, as last yeere: And (which is worst of all) she coozens with that confidence, as if she were commanded so to doe. And sure it must needs be so; for the Guards, the Searchers, the Promoters, and the Alguazils, all see her dealings, and know them well inough; yet they winke at them, and say not so much as blacke is her eye. These I warrant you be her fee'd men, she giues them good content, and greazes them in the fist with that, which she filches from others. For if it were not so, as sure as the coat is on your back, they would haue another fling at her, and pay her home againe with a poxe in her owne kinde.

Howbeit (wretched woman as she is) it is punishment inough vnto her, that she liu'd so long, as to discredit her house. For if she had kept good meat in her house, and vs'd her ghests well, behauing her selfe ciuilly, and demand­ing reasonable reckonings, her custome would haue been good, and all Tra­uellers would haue flockt vnto her house. And you know, De muchos pocos hiziera mucho; Many a little, makes a mickle. For, by carrying but one graine of corne away with him at once, the Ant fils his granary, and liues in store and plenty all the yeere long. And had she done so, the proudest Officer of them all, could not haue set his foot vpon her neck, and teare her vngodly gaines out of her throat. But shame light vpon her, and all such as she is. The Diuell take such vnconscionable Inne-keepers.

When he had come thus farre and made his full point, I thought he would there haue left. But hee comes about againe, giuing vs this cloze for a farewell: Blessed bee that vnspotted purity of the Virgin Mary, that though I am but a poore man; yet I thanke God for it, there is no such ill v­sage in my house, no such deceitfull tricks; Euery thing is heere sold for the thing it is: no Cats, for Conies; nor Mutton, for Veale. Limpieza de vida, es lo que importé, a cleere conscience, is that, which will carry a man through thicke and thin. He may goe bare-faced through the world, and neuer bee ashamed, that hath led an innocent life. Let euery man enioy that which is his owne, and not defraud and deceiue one another.

Heere he stopt, and tooke in fresh breath, which was no more then needed, considering how fast his tongue walkt: And though happely he might thinke, that we might the more willingly giue him the hearing now that we had supt; yet he heere cuts off the thread of his Discourse, and sayes no more, gi­uing [Page 51] vs in stead of our second Course, two or three Oliues, as bigge as Nuts. We intreated him that against the next morning we might haue a morsell of his Veale made ready for vs. He vndertooke that care, and we went to take our rest. Our boulsters, were our pack-Saddles; and our bedding the cloathes that couered our Packs, which we stretch out as plaine as wee could vpon the bare Floore: and so we past ouer that night, as well as we could.

CHAPTER VI.

HAd I, the Sunday morning following, when it was day, been Guzman is extremely bitten by Fleas. set in the Market-place in Seuill, or at my mothers owne doore: I am doubtfull, whether they would haue knowne me or no. For I was monstrously Flea-bitten by that infinit number of Fleas, which had fed that night on my carkase, that it seemed they likewise indured a deare yeere, and that I was offered vp vnto them for a prey. And so in the mor­ning I got me vp, looking for all the world, like one that had been sick of the small Pox, or infected with the Meazels; my face and hands, and all my whole body ouer, not hauing one free place, or one spot of white, no, not so much as you might put a pins point betweene; so miserably was I tormented with them.

But fortune was herein so fauourable vnto me, that what with the weari­nesse Drinking freely, what it effecteth. of the iourney, and taking a cup or two ouer-night more then ordinary, I slept soundly, dreaming heauenly dreames, no noise hindring my quiet rest; till that my Companion, whose minde ranne vpon hearing Masse betimes in the morning, and of his seuen Leagues which he had farther to goe, did a­waken me.

We rise by the breake of day, before the Sunne was vp. And calling pre­sently for our breakefast, it was brought vs in; but it did not like me so well, as it did my fellow: for euery morsell, that went downe his throat, seemed to him, as if he had swallowed so many bits of the brawne of some yong ten­der Peacocks, and he did so much commend the goodnes of it, as if all the world could not affoord a daintier dish. And I was forced so to esteeme of it, by laying my faith vpon another mans taste, attributing that defect to mine owne bad palate, which this hungry hound had inherited from the Asse his father. But, to speake the plaine truth, it was starke naught, and as vile meat as a man could eate, and did not sticke to speake it selfe vnto mee in a knowne language.

To me it seemed tough, and vnsauoury, and of that little which I did eate ouer-night at supper, my stomake was so sur-charged with it, lying as hea­uy within me as Lead, that I was not able for my life to digest it. And albeit I was somewhat fearefull, lest my fellow should finde fault with me, yet did I not sticke to say vnto mine Host; How comes this flesh to be so tough, and of that euill rellish, that a man can scarce fasten vpon it with his teeth? Hee told me; Do not you see, Sir, that it is flesh that hath been newly kill'd, and wants time for the mortifying and making of it tender? Hereupon, my Compani­on taking his Q: It is not (quoth he) any lack of mortifying, or hanging in the ayre; or that it does not eate tender and short inough, that makes this [Page 52] Gentleman to be so squeamish: but because he hath been fed from his cradle with spice-Buns, Sugar-Cakes, and fresh Egges, all other meates saue these, are hard both to his teeth and stomake. I shrunke vp my shoulders, and held my peace, as one that knew full well, that I was now as it were in another kinde of world, and that it was but one dayes patience more, and then I should be out of danger of vnderstanding such kinde of language any longer.

But for all this, I could not here-with rest contented, but still mee thought this meat had an ill smatch with it, of I know not what.

And as I was thinking thereon, it presently came in my minde what vnne­cessary oathes mine Host made the night before, when he vow'd and swore it was Veale.

This swearing and staring of his, I did not like halfe well, and did there­fore thinke, he did the rather lye, because he did so deepely sweare: for the truth hath no need of the confirmation of an Oath, vnlesse it be in open Court before a Iudge, or in case of great necessitie. Besides, all such satisfa­ction, Qui saepè iu­rat, saepè per­ [...]urat. as offers it selfe by way of preuention, before the thing deliuered, is questioned, or called into doubt, makes the faith of the reporter to bee euer­more suspected. I knew not what did ayle me, or what might be the cause of this; for although I did not really conceiue any assured ill, I did as little presume, that there could be any good meaning herein. It was onely a touch of my imagination, a strange apprehension, that I had in my head at that time: Wherevpon I did not long dwell, nor made any great reckoning of it. So passing it ouer, I call'd for a reckoning, my Companion told me, I should let my purse alone, for he would pay for vs both. Whereupon I went aside, leauing him to be the Pay-master: thinking with my selfe, that out of courte­sie, and this our new acquaintance, he was not willing, that I should pay my share of so small a shot.

I was very thankefull to him in my heart for this his kindnesse, and was not wanting to sing forth his praises, for this his freenesse and loue, which he had showne vnto me, euer since that he met me vpon the way, giuing me my horse-hyre, and my dyet gratis; not suffering me to spend one penny in his company.

I thought with my selfe, this world would still hold, and that wheresoeuer I went, I should meet with some one or other that would beare my charges, and let me ride for nothing. I had now taken heart vnto me, and began to be prettily well flesht, and to forget my mothers teat, as if it had been noyn­ted with Aloes, Worme-wood, or the like bitter stuffe, and so in all other things did I doe the like, whereunto I had beene formerly accustomed. And because it should not be said of me, Que delos ingratos estaua lleno el infierno; That hell is full of vngratefull persons: While he was paying the shot, I was He that receiues a courtesie, euer ought to shew his readinesse to doe that man seruice from whom it comes. willing to shew some part of my thankefulnesse, by leading out his Asses to drinke, and carrying them backe againe to their cratches, to the end, that while they were saddling and making all things ready, they might champe vpon their strawe, and make an end of their prouender. I put a helping hand to all that was needfull, rubbing their foreheads and their eares, as well as I was able.

Whil'st I was busied in this, I had laid my Cloke vpon a bench hard by, which like Quick-siluer, before the fire, or smoake before the winde, was vanisht a­way in an instant, that I could neuer set eye on it any more; nor could deuise in the world, what should become of it. I thought with my selfe, that either mine Host or my Consort, had, to make themselues merry therewith, hid it from me in iest. But it was now no more a iesting matter, for they beganne to sweare in good earnest that they had it not, nor knew what was become of it; I made diligent search for it euen to the very gate which was shut, and had not yet been opened. There was no body there in the house but our [Page 53] selues, and mine Host, and therefore me thought it was impossible, that it should be lost, and that I might peraduenture forget my selfe; and haue put it apart in some other place. Hereupon, I sought vp and downe all the house; and going out of the Hall into the Kitchen, it was my hap to come into a back-Court, where I found a great plash of fresh bloud, and hard by it a Mules skinne, fairely stretcht out to its full breadth and length, from the which the fect were not yet cut off; The eares were there at large, and all that part of the head towards the fore-head, neere whereunto were those other bones belonging to the head, onely the tongue, and the braines were wanting: Which I no sooner perceiued, but I was presently confirmed in my doubt.

Hereupon I streight goe forth to call in my Companion; To whom, when I had made show of the Hide, that had bound in our breakefast and our sup­per, I then said vnto him; What thinke you now, Sir? Are not those things (trow you) Sugar-cakes, and new-laid Egges, in comparison of these that we eate at home? This is that Veale, forsooth, which you so extolled to the skies; and this the Host, you promised should prouide vs such dainty cheere.

What thinke you of the supper now, and the breakefast which he hath be­stowed vpon vs? Hath he not dealt well with vs I pray? haue we not beene excellently well vsed? He (good man) is none of these coozening Hosts, and cheating Inne-keepers, that will sell a Cat for a Cony; and put away Mut­ton, for Veale. This is that innocent man, that may goe vnmaskt through­out the world, and care not who sees him, and lookes him in the face, he is so honest a man. This is that integer vitae, sceleris (que) purus, so vnspotted in his life and conscience, and so free from all ill dealing, that out of his owne inte­gritie, made no bones to curse our Hostesse, and the euill vsage of her Ghests.

He was strooken so dumpe, and so full of wonder, to see what I had show'd him, that he had not a word to say; but with his head cast downe into his bo­some, went slinking away from me, and was so amazed at this strange sight, that all the day after till we parted company, I could not get from him so much as a vvord, saue what past at our parting when we were to take our leaue each of other. And that which then came from him, seemed to bee drawne out of the very guts of him, as you shall heare anon.

Howbeit, I vvas not (as euery man may imagine) very well pleased vvith this vnhappy accident; yet notwithstanding, (that this his floud of laughter might by this meanes be dammed vp, or the current thereof turn'd another way, wherewith euery moment before, my very heart and soule was ouer-flowne, and in a manner, quite drowned.) I was wonderfully ouer-ioyed with this my misfortune, vvhich did so much the lesse grieue me, because he had so great a share in it.

What vvith this (which was vantage inough) and the strong beliefe that I had that no man but mine Host could possibly conuay away my Cloake, I be­gan somewhat more boldly to charge him vvith it; It being euer incident to a good cause, to put strength into weakenesse; and to adde courage to the He that hath right, hath cou­rage. faint-hearted I began to put it home to him, and told him plainely that hee should answere me my Cloake, and that he had stolne it: But he very scorne­fully denies it, i [...]ering and fleering at me; and the more earnest I vvas, the more merry he makes himselfe. Wherewith my patience was so much moo­ued, that I could not hold, but threatned him (in my choller) vvith the Iu­stice; yet did I not touch at all on this new businesse, nor spake one word to him of that which I had seene. But he, for that I vvas a young Lad, a poore Boy, and no body to take my part, began to domineere ouer me, telling me, that he had a rod for me in his pocket, and other the like reproachfull words, termes onely befitting Cowards, and men of base condition, such as him­selfe. But because worms will turne againe, if they be trod on, and the gentlest [Page 54] Lambes grow mad, if they be too much wrong'd, vpon multiplying of words one begetting another; and the latter worse then the former, at last wee fell foule. And as the fewnesse of my yeeres, and weaknesse of my strength would giue me leaue, I tore out halfe a brick-bat from the side of a Bench there-by, and threw it at him as hard as euer I could driue; which, if I had hit him with­all, and that he had not hid himselfe behind a pillar, I thinke I had beaten out his braines, and beene fully reuenged of the wrong he did me. But hee scap't my hands, and ranne as fast as his legges would carry him into his chamber; whence he came foorth in all haste with his sword drawne in his hand.

Here you may see, what manner of men these roaring-Boyes be, since that He that is faulty [...] coward. this great Gull doth not now seeke to defend himselfe with the force of his strong and brawnie armes, against those weake and tender twigges of mine; forgetting, that he said, he would whip me, seeking now to offend mee by force of armes, I beeing but a grissle, and a poore simple dis-armed chicken. In this manner then, he makes towards me with his naked sword; whilest I fearing what might follow, stood vpon my gard with two pibble-stones, which I had pluck't out of the pauement. Which when hee saw I had now ready in my hand, his courage began to be abated, and did not dare to draw neerer vnto me.

Now with the noyse and out-cries that were made vpon this occasion, the whole Inne was in an vprore; and all the neighbours there-abouts, hearing the stirre, came flocking in vpon vs, to see what the matter was. All the whole street hasted thither, and with them a great throng of people, as well Iustices, as Notaries. There came in two Alcaldes, both at the same instant, and each of them stroue to haue the hearing of the cause, labouring to preuent each other. And the Notaries for their priuate gaine, euery one said, that this businesse did belong vnto him; whereupon they grew at difference and oddes betweene themselues.

Vpon this contention, grew a second quarrell, no lesse fierce and tumultu­ous, then was ours: for on both sides, they digg'd vp their Grandfathers graues, twitting one another in the teeth with their fathers and their mo­thers, not sparing one anothers wiues, ripping vp their faults, and the course of life that they led; wherein perhaps they did not lie: But they would no more vnderstand one another, then did we. Whilest we were in this hurly­burly, come in certaine Regidores, accompanied with other worshipfull Bur­gomasters of the Towne, who laboured to make peace betweene them, and laid hold on me. Que siempre quebra la soga, por lo mas delgado: for the wea­kest must stil go to the wal: and the Skeane there breaketh soonest, where the thred is finest. The stranger, the poore soule, the miserable man, he that ha's no shelter, no friends to sticke vnto him; no great Ones to fauour him, he that is depriued of all succour and comfort, and hath no body to defend him, he is the man, whom the Iustice doth first take in hand.

They would needs know, what this stirre was, and whence it grew. They call'd me aside, and tooke my confession: I plainely told them all that had passed; but because some that were thereby, might chance to ouer-heare me, I went apart with the Alcaldes, and told them in secret, that which I knew concerning the Machuelo, or little young Mule. They were first of all desi­rous to approue and verifie the cause; but it seeming vnto them, that they had time inough to dispatch all, they vsed diligence for the apprehending of mine Host; who was carelesse of any ill that might come vnto him for that offence. And perswading himselfe, that all this inquiry was onely about the Cloake, made but a iest of it, and laugh't at it as a thing of nothing, and could no way touch him, for default of Information, and those due proofes that I was to make, hauing no man, besides the Carrier, to witnesse for me, that I was seen to come in thither with a Cloake.

[Page 55] But afterwards perceiuing, that by little and little, this piece of hangings came to be seene, to wit, the skinne, and the rest of the appurtenances, the copy of my Gentlemans countenance was quickly altered, and began sudden­ly to looke blanke vpon the matter: so that, when they began to examin him, and had withall before his face shewd him the skinne; confessing the fact, hee was conuicted, not hauing the heart to deny any thing, but told them the truth of all that had past.

For it is an assured truth, that base-minded men, infamous in their life, and ill-conditioned in their carriage and manners, are (as I said before) ranke co­wards, and of no courage in the world. For, without hauing the torment gi­uen him, or before euer that he was threatned with the Racke; vndemanded, he declared the Thefts, and the Rogueries that he had done, as well in that his Inne, as his robbing vpon the high-way, when he was a shepherd: whereby he got him a Stocke, to set vp for himselfe in the world. I all this while li­stened very close; looking still when his confession should bring my cloake to light; but out of the malice and hatred that he bare vnto me, that was quite left out. I vsed my best diligence I could, to make it appeare, but all would not serue the turne. After they had made an end of taking our declarations, I meane, the Carriers and mine, because we were strangers, they did in that particular ratifie and approue what we had deposed. And whilest this Plea was depending, whether or no (till it were determined) they should carry me to prison, and keepe me there (tras paciente, aporreado (as they say) I must haue the wrong, & be beaten too,) there were diuers disputes thervpon. The Nota­ries were very glad of this, & they did pretend I should: but one of the Alcal­des stood vp and said, That I had reason on my side, and was in no fault at all: and that they had no reason to question me any farther; for it was punishment enough already for me, and too much too, that I was left thus naked in my hose and dubblet, and was coozened of my cloake. Hereupon, they let mee goe, but mine Host, he was led away to prison. And leauing him there, we prepare for our iourney; and all things being made ready, we begin to set for­ward, passing along that street, where the Clergy-men stood looking for vs, each of them tooke his Asse, and away we go. By the way I told them the whole successe of the businesse: they blest themselues, when they heard of it, and much pitied my case. But because they could not helpe it, they commit­ted it to God. My selfe and my Companion, what with the long time that was spent in this broyle, and the haste we had to be gone, wee went away without hearing Masse; seeming rather to flie, then go foorth of the Towne. I (for my part) neuer mist Masse before, being accustomed all my life-time to that daily exercise of deuotion. From that time forward, it entred into my He that leaues God, God will leaue him. head, That from so bad a beginning, it was impossible to looke for a good en­ding. And that now, nothing could succeed well and happily vnto me. And so it fell out, as you shall heare hereafter. Nor can it be otherwise expe­cted, when we serue our selues, and not God first; and not be­gin with him, before we begin our businesse.

CHAP. VII.

THe Egyptians, a great while ago, in those times of old being notable Sooth-sayers, (as indeed they were) a­mongst The Egiptians adoted Fortune as a goddesse. many other errours, which they had, this was one amongst the rest, that they adored Fortune, as a Goddesse; verily beleeuing, that there was some such thing indeed. To her, they celebrated a Feast on the first day of the yeere, preparing sumptuous Tables, ma­king great Feasts and costly Banquets, in a thankefull acknowledgment of the fore-passed yeare, and intreating her fauour, for that which was to come. They were fully perswaded, that this Goddesse was she, that had the disposall of all things, giuing and taking away at her pleasure, as supreme Gouernesse ouer all humane things. This they did, because they wanted the knowledge of one onely true God, whom we adore and worship, by whose powerfull hand, and diuine will, heauen and earth are gouerned, and whatsoeuer is created in them both, be it visible, or inuisible. It seemed somewhat strange vnto them, and were touched therewith to the quicke, when misfortunes began to light vpon them; to see how one mischiefe came vpon the necke of another; one no sooner past, but another at the heeles of them, not giuing them one hower of ease and quiet, neuer making an end, till they had made an end of man, and quite ouerthrowne him horse and foot: And how againe at another time (like so many Cowards) they come trooping all at once vpon vs, and neuer leaue assaulting vs, till they haue vtterly ruin'd vs, and throwne this our house of clay downe to the ground.

And on the contrary side againe, the time doth not ascend with that nim­blenesse and quicke motion to the top of the highest mountaines, as Fortune doth eleuate and lift men vp by wayes and meanes, neither seene, nor thought vpon, neuer suffering them to continue still firme, either in the one, or t'o­ther estate; to the end that he that is deiected, may not despaire; and hee that is exalted, may not presume. If the light of faith were wanting vnto me, as it was vnto them, I might (giuing credit to this their errour) happely say, when such like misfortunes should befall me; Bien veng as mal, si solo vienes. Welcome is that misfortune which comes alone: yesterday morning I did complaine of little vvearinesse, and of the two demy-Chickens that I had to dinner, going disguized in your Hermits habit, as vnwilling to be knowne. Afterwards, I came to make my supper vpon the stinking panch of a young Mule; and which was worse, to feed vpon the flesh and braines thereof, which vvas all one in a manner, as if I should haue deuoured mine owne flesh; I meane, by his The S [...]e of a Mule, is an Asse. fathers side; vvhich may be euery mans case, as well as mine. And for an vpshot of all, the ill lucke that I had at last, to be coozened of my Cloake. Poco danno espanta, y mucho amansa: little losses doe onely startse and amaze men at the first, but great ones do quell and daunt a man, making him as gentle as a Lambe.

What treason hath beene plotted against me? vvhat squint-ey'd Starre hath scowl'd vpon me? vvhat misfortune followed me, since I came from home? For from the time, that I first put foorth of doores, all things haue [Page 57] gone amisse with me, one mischance being the fore-runner of another, and the sad presager of worser things to come, which like a double Tertian went increasing vpon me, euery fit being vvorse and more violent, then the former, not allowing me the least intervallum of time, or any space or respit in the vvorld to take any rest.

Mans life is a warre-fare vpon earth, there is no certainty therein; no set­tled Mans life, what it is. assurance, no estate that is permanent; no pleasure that is perfect; no con­tent that is true; but all is counterfeit and vaine. Wilt thou see, that this is true? Then hearken to that which I shall tell thee.

The great god Iupiter (for so the Poets faigne him) hauing created all things vpon earth; and man to be the enioyer of them, commanded the god Con­tent, to reside in the world, not beleeuing, nor preuenting the ingratitude, which afterwards they fell into, following their owne proper pleasures and delights, and bearing themselues in a high and proud fashion: for hauing this god continuing amongst them, they did not so much as thinke on any other. To him they did sacrifice, to him they offered their oblations, his name they celebrated with ioy; and to him onely did they sing Songs of prayse and thanksgiuing. Iupiter scorning this contempt, and being mightily offended A morall Fable of the gods of old­time, and the Councel that was held in heauen against Mankind. vvith man for this strange neglect, called a Councell of the gods; and when they were all assembled together, he made vnto them a long Discourse, wher­in he informed them, of the euill Correspondence which man held with him, for that they did onely adore Content, as their true god; not considering the benefits vvhich they had receiued from his prodigall hand, being meerely his workmanship, and by him created of nothing. And that therefore they should deliuer their Opinions, vvhat order was to be taken, for the redres­sing of so foule an abuse; and vvhat Medicines to be applied for the curing of this their madnesse.

Some of the milder gods, out of their tender hearts, and mercifull na­tures, spake thus vnto Iupiter:

Man, you know, is but a weake kind of creature, framed of a frayle and brittle matter, a corruptible substance, soone dissolu'd and turn'd to nothing; and therefore we thinke it fit, that they should be holpen and held vp by vs, and that we should yeeld them our succour and assistance in all that we can: For, if it were possible, that vve could exchange fortunes with them, and vvere in the same state and condition as they are, and euery way equall with them, I doubt me, vve should do iust as they do. And therefore we are not to make any great reckoning of the matter: but if we doe, and that they must be proceeded against, we for our parts are verily perswaded, that some mild and gentle correction will be a sufficient remedy for the present.

Momus would faine haue spoke his mind, and his tongue itch't to bee let loose, hauing already entred into some free language, and would haue lash't out farther, had he not beene commanded to hold his peace, and to forbeare till it came to his turne, and then he should haue a full hearing. Hee would gladly haue taken hold on that occasion, to haue incensed Iupiter, because it did so fairely offer it selfe vnto him: but obeying for the present, he meditated in the meane while on a long Oration, vvhich he meant should make for his purpose, vvhen it came to his turne to speake. Howbeit, there were not some wanting in the interim, of equall (almost) condition vvith himselfe, and of the same humour, vvho stood vp and said:

It is not fit (great god of Heauen) to leaue so heynous a fault vnpunished: for the offence is infinit, being committed against so infinit a Maiestie; and therefore the punishment ought likewise to be infinit. Our opinion is, that they should be vtterly destroyed, and made an end of at once, and neuer to haue any more of them created anew; for there is no necessity at all of their being and liuing in the world, but may very well be spared. [Page 58] others vvould not agree to that motion, but did hold it fit, that great store of Thunder-bolts, with fearfull flashes of Lightning, should be throwne downe vpon them, and consume them all; and that others more good should be created a-new.

Thus as they were deliuering their opinions, being more or lesse rigo­rous, according to their seuerall qualities and complexions, till it came to A­pollo's turne to speake, who crauing leaue of the House, and their fauour obtained, in a graue voice, and with a cheerefull countenance, he thus exprest himselfe:

Supreme Scepter-swaying Iupiter, highest amongst the gods, both in pow­er, Apollo's speech in mans fauour. and in pitie: That grieuous accusation, wherewith thou chargest Man, is so iust, that we can not gaine-say, or contradict any vengeance, vvhich thou shalt take of them. Yet withall, I can not (out of that great respect which I beare vnto thee) but vtter what I thinke, and plainly to shew vnto thee, what I haue conceiued in my minde, my words being as free from passion, as I hope they shall be from offence.

If thou destroy the world, in vaine then are those things, which thou hast therein created; and it were imperfection in thee, to vn-make that, which thou hast already made; only for to mend that which thou now findest amisse: Much lesse, vvould I haue thee to repent thy selfe that thou hast made Man; for that will be but to discredit thy selfe and thine owne worke. Besides, how can it stand with the power and goodnesse of a Creator, to take too strict a course against his Creature, and to exceed, by extraordinary meanes, in his chastisements?

To destroy these that are now liuing, and to create others a-new, I hold that not so fit to be done by thee. For thou must either giue them, or not giue them free-will: if thou giue them it, they must necessarily then be such man­ner of men, as their fore-fathers were: If thou not giue it them, they shall not be men: And so thou shalt haue created in vaine that so great and glorious a frame of Heauen, Earth, Starres, Moone, Sunne, together with the compo­sition of the Elements, and millions more of things, which thou hast made in so exact a manner, and such a singular perfection. So that (which impor­teth your seruice, if you will be pleased to take it into consideration) there remaineth but one thing to be done to set all right againe, without seeking for any other remedy; or that you shall be driuen to vse any violent or rigorous proceeding against them, to the preiudice of your clemencie.

Thou (O Iupiter) gau'st them the God Content, vvhom they were to haue with them as long as it pleased thee, and no longer: for vpon thy will and pleasure, all things both in Heauen and earth haue their dependency. Now, had they beene so wise, that they could haue continued thankefull towards thee, and haue conserued themselues in iustice and obedience towards thee, it had been a thing repugnant to the goodnesse of thy nature and iustice, not to vphold and protect them, by inlarging thy fauours towards them, and mul­tiplying thy blessings vpon them. But since they haue dis-merited this by disobedience, thou oughtest in some sort to punish them. For it is not fit, that they should in tyrannous manner, & with a strong hand possesse these so great blessings, to offend thee thereby: But thou oughtest rather to take this their god from them, and in his stead to send downe his brother Discontent a­mongst them, who is very like in fauour vnto him, and doth resemble him so neere, that a man can hardly discerne the one from the other. And so by this meanes, they will euer hereafter come to acknowledge their own misery, and thy mercy; thy happy estate, and their owne wretched condition; thy ease, and their trouble; their paine, and thy glory; thy power, and their owne weakenesse. And then, as thou shalt see cause, thou maist distribute thy fa­uours to those that shall deserue them; and according to thy louing kindnesse [Page 59] recompence euery man according to thine owne good will and pleasure, not making thy benefits alike common to the good and the bad, by suffering all men equally to enioy one and the same happinesse. This course being taken with them, I am of opinion, that it will not onely be a sufficient punishment vnto them; but will also bring them to a due acknowledgement of their er­rour. I haue spoke my minde and shall now leaue it vnto thee (thou mercy­imbracing Iupiter) to doe that herein which shall sute best with thine owne good liking, and shall make most for thy seruice.

With this briefe aduice, he ended his Oration. Then Momus, with his Momus mans ancient enemy. venemous tongue, began to lay about him; labouring to exaggerate the of­fence, and to set it forth in its vilest colours, induced thereunto not so much for goodnesse sake, as that inueterated hatred which he euermore bare vnto mankinde. But notice being taken of his passion (which was a knowne disease in him) his opinion was reproued, and cryde downe by the generall voice of that highest Court of Parliament: All commending the motion that vvas made by Apollo. The execution of whose speech was (with an vnanimous Mercury, by or­der from loue, desc [...]nds on earth, and to what end. consent) committed to Mercury: Who presently (spreading his wings, and breaking with them through the ayre) descended downe vpon the earth, where he found the men of this world with their god, Content, feeding and making merry together, doing him all the honour they could deuise, being farre from any the least thought, that this their god should (while the world indured) be alienated from their possession.

Mercury came to this god, where he was; and hauing in secret deliuered the Embassage vnto him, sent from the gods aboue, was (though sore against his will) inforced to yeeld thereunto. The men were herevpon in an vprore, and sought to hinder it all they could, and began with might and maine to in­terest themselues in the cause; and seeing that there was no remedy, but that this their god must be taken away from them, they stroue to defend him with all the strength they could make; and taking strong hold of him, they tugged hard for him, as desirous to retaine him still amongst them.

Iupiter perceiuing how the vvorld vvent, and what a coyle they kept about him, came downe amongst them, and whilest these men were busied in laying fast hold on his cloathes, (vsing a pretty slight) he cunningly conuay'd away Content from amidst his cloathes, leauing them Discontent in his stead, with the same cloathes, and the very same habit of raiment, wherewith Content was at that time apparelled, taking him from thence away with him to hea­uen. Wherewith the men that were in this broyle were very well pleased (though thus deceiued) thinking that they had preuailed in their purpose, and obtained vvhat they desired, since they had their god still amongst them: But it vvas not so well with them, as they thought it to be.

This errour of those former times (the same deceit yet liuing still amongst them) hath continued euen to this present age. Men did thinke that Content remained stil with them, and that they had him sure inough heere vpon earth. But it is nothing so; for it is onely the bare raiment, and outward shape and resemblance, which they inioy with them; and Discontent, clapt into his cloathes. And if thou beleeue otherwise, or conceiu'st the contrary, thou art vvide of the truth, and a meere stranger thereunto. Wilt thou, that I make this plaine vnto thee? Marke well then what I shall say vnto thee.

Weigh and consider with thy selfe, in any kinde of manner thou thy selfe shalt deuise: the Feasts, the Sports, the Bankets, the Musicks, all the delights and ioyes, and whatsoeuer else may most moue thy inclination to the highest point of all, which thine owne desire can suggest and paint forth vnto thee to the life. If I shall aske thee by the way, Whither goest thou? Thou wilt an­swere me perhaps, and that very proudly: To such a feast of Content. I giue it for granted, that there thou doest receiue it, and that the place doth affoord it [Page 60] thee; the Gardens being fresh and full of flowers; the Riuers plated with their siluer-streames, and that the Fountaines distilling their drops of pearle, may much cheere and glad thy heart. I suppose that thou hast banketed thy selfe in sweet and pleasant Arbours, where neither the Sunne did offend thee, nor the ayre annoy thee. And that thou didst inioy thy desires to their full height, & that thou hadst all the sports & pastimes that a man could wish. Yet notwithstanding, there is no contentment so absolute in this vvorld, which is not watred vvith some sorrow. And though in all these things thou hadst no distaste at all giuen thee; but hadst euery thing according to thine owne mind: yet when thou returnest home to thine own house; or layest thee down in thy bed to take thy rest it is not possible but thou shalt find thy selfe weary, dusty & sweaty, to haue lost thy stomake, or taken cold, to grow heauy, me­lancholly, and sad; and peraduenture become either mad, or dead. For amidst our greatest pleasures, happen the greatest misfortunes: And are vsually wont to be vnto vs Vespers of feare, and of horrour; and not Vespers, vvhere the night passeth merrily away from the beginning to the middle, and from the middle to the end: for in the midst of this thy idolatry, all shall bee taken from thee. Set not thy heart therefore vpon them; but slight them, and let them goe by, as if thou didst not know them: for there is no trust to be had in them.

Now, by this time, (I doubt not) but thou wilt ingenuously confesse, that this disguise did deceiue thee, these cloathes coozen thee, and this maske so blinde thy eye-sight; That whereas thou didst verily thinke, that thou hadst Content now safe inough in thy hands, thou hadst nothing more but his out­ward raiment; and in it, Discontent. Now doest thou see, how there is no Content vpon the earth; and that our true Content is onely in Heauen. And True content is in heauen. therefore, till thou meet with it there; doe not looke for it heere.

When I resolued on my departure, (O good God) what a deale of content did represent it selfe vnto me? Me thought, the very thought of it wrought wonderfully vpon me, apprehending no happinesse to be equall vnto this. With these eyes of my imagination, I beheld onely Aprill, and the beauty of the Fields in that season; not so much as once thinking on the August, that The strange alte­rations in this world. was to come after: As if I vvere to suffer nothing, and had been made of some impossible substance, that could not be subiect to perturbations; or these foo­lish crosses of the world. Those long and euen wayes, I conceited as things, that I was not to goe; at least, not to be wearied with them. To eate and drinke at your Innes, and other the like vittailing houses, (as one that did not know what kinde of Vermine, these bloud-suckers were,) I thought they vvould haue giuen me my meat for nothing; or if they did take money for it, that it would haue beene much better then what you haue heard me tell you. The variety and greatnesse of things; as Birds, Beasts, Mountaines, Woods, Cities, and whatsoeuer was inhabited with people, as if I had them all already in my hand, all did figure forth vnto me content, and nothing but content; but could not finde it in any thing, but in a good and honest life.

I did frame in the fabricke of my braine, Castles of Content, and that all things should succeed prosperously with me, and that where-soeuer I came, I should meet with my Mother, that should make much of me, and my Maid, that should make me vnready, and bring my supper to bed to mee, and that should helpe me on in the morning with my cloathes, and fetch me my break­fast. Good God, who vvould thinke, that the world were so large and so long as it is? I had seene it in some Maps, and me thought it was all plaine and smooth, and huddled (as it seemed there to be) all together, without any great either difference, or distance. I did not imagine, there could haue been Insipientis est di [...]cte non putatem. so many troubles, and so many miseries in it. But to say, I neuer thought it, is a thing that betrayes a man to haue lineally descended of a race of Coxcombs, [Page 61] it is a property, that belongs onely vnto fooles; it is the excuse of rude and ignorant Asses, the childs helpe, and the carelesse mans refuge. For he that is wise and discreet, ought euer to thinke on things afore-hand, to fore-cast the worst; and to preuent a mischiefe before it come.

But I did like a simple Youth, (as I was) hauing neither wit nor gouern­ment in me; and therefore I was iustly punished, for that liuing so at ease as I did; and being as it were in Paradise, I would goe abroad into the world; and like my first fore-fathers, could not see when I was well, but I know not out of what vaine humour, must goe seeke after the knowledge of good, and ill. How many things began I then to call to minde, when I came out of the Inne without my Cloake, and was not onely coozened, but made a common laughing stocke, to as many as lookt vpon me! I, would faine haue then beene feeding on the flesh-pots of Egypt: O how I did long to be at home againe! But (as the saying is) elbien, hasta que se pierde, no se conoçe. Man knowes not Magis caren­do, quàm fru­endo, &c. what happinesse is, till he want it.

We were all sad and heauy, and iogged on along in a sullen and melancholy kinde of fashion; and now my honest Carrier was no more so full of his laughing, as he was before; the winde was laid in that corner, by the tricke that mine Host had put vpon him. Before, he threw stones on my house top, thinking to breake the Tyles, and cracke my Roofe: but when hee found his owne to be made of glasse, he left his flinging, with-drew his hand, and kept himselfe quiet. It is lesse ill, and more discretion to consider with a mans Morall lessons. selfe, before he speake, what he may chance to heare; and before that he doe a wrong, whether it may be returned vpon himselfe, or no? It is not good for a man to thrust himselfe wilfully into danger. For when a man shall take too much liberty to himselfe; he shall finde a tongue for a tongue, and a hand for a hand. All things haue their equall measure; like doe, like haue: And he that will be honoured of all, must honour all.

If it enter not (yet at least it ought) into thy consideration, that what thou hast said or done in secret, either shall, or may be pu [...]shed by some one or o­ther to the world, and that thou maist meet with such a one, that either in word, or in deed, may reply that vnto thee, which thou wouldst not vvil­lingly heare, and lesse indure: Doe not stand vpon thy strength, nor rely too much on thine owne might: For though thy affront be not written in thy fore-head; yet will it be made knowne to all the world. Doe not make those thy enemies, whom with good vsage thou maist make thy friends. For it is not good to haue any enemy at all, though neuer so weake. For from a little sparke, ariseth oftentimes a great flame. What thing's so faire and beautifull in it selfe; what more worthy wise-men; what more befitting braue spirits and valiant Gentlemen; then to measure their action by the rule of reason, to bridle and reine in their passions, and to carry an euen hand in all that they doe; to the end that they may not act any thing vn-aduisedly, and put them­selues vpon extremities? Doest thou not see, how the world is now altred with our Carrier? He was now as silent as the night, not a word that comes from him. He laughs no more, but hangs downe his head in his bosome, not daring for shame to lift it vp. Our good honest Clergy-men rode mum­bling their Mattins to themselues; I was thinking on mine owne mis-for­tunes: and when all and euery one of vs were as it were in a wood, euen in the thickest of all our contemplations, (euery man thinking vpon his owne busi­nesse) two Ministers of iustice, with their Officers at their heeles, came in pursuit of a Page, that had stolne from his Master great store of money and iewels. And by the markes that were giuen them; it should seeme it was Guzman ap­prehended for a Thiefe, and his sufferings. such another strippling as my selfe. They had no sooner spide me, but they cryde out aloud: Ah thou thiefe, haue we caught thee? wee haue thee safe e­nough now, thou canst not escape our hands: And presently hereupon they [Page 62] strooke me off the Asse (my brother) with their Fists; and when they had me downe, laying fast hold on me, they fell a searching mee, thinking to haue found the stolne-goods about me.

They tooke off the Pack-saddles, searched the Pannels, leauing not so much Sergeants and Catch-poles, an vnciuill kind of people. roome, as you may put a pins-head betweene, which they did not narrowly pry into: and when they could find nothing there, then they beganne to ex­claime, and cry out vpon me; Ah, thou thiefe, confesse and tell vs the truth; for we will hang thee here presently, if thou delay vs any longer. They would not heare me, nor admit of any excuse I could make for my selfe; and in despight of the world, without any other cause giuen, (saue their own selfe-will and opinion) I, and no other man, must needs be the fellow. They gaue me many blowes, thumpes on the brest, boxes on the eare with the backes of their hands, and many other outrages, wherewith they tormented Mans depraued disposition, what effects it worketh. me, and all, that I might not be suffered by them to speake for myselfe, and to pronounce something in mine owne defence. And although it did much grieue me, to see how ill I was vsed by them, yet I could not choose but laugh to my selfe, for that my companion was worse dealt withall; laying more load and harder blowes vpon him, than me, as a receiuer and concealer of this theft, and that he was my partner and sharer therein.

Doest thou not here perceiue the peruerse inclination of men, who haue scarce any feeling of their owne miseries, when they see those of their ene­mies, to be greater then their owne? I was not halfe Cater-cousins with him, because by his meanes, I had lost my Cloake, and sup't vpon a Mule. And therefore I did beare mine owne hurt the better, because hee suffered some­what more than my selfe. They did beat him without mercy; they had no pitie of him in the world, but were still bawlling vpon him, that hee should discouer, whither he had carried these goods? and to what secret place hee had conueyd them?

The poore man that was as innocent as my selfe, and as free from any such fault, as the child that is new borne, did not know in the world what to doe. He thought at first that they had beene but in iest with him; but when he saw they were in earnest, and past so farre beyond the bounds of sport, and that it was now no longer a iesting matter, A Prouerbe. He curst the dead to the diuell, & all those that should but shed a teare for him. This sport did nothing please him, and wisht by this time with all his heart, that he had neuer seene mee. The Gowne (as they say) was now brusht cleane, not a specke to bee seene; all was vnfolded, and searched ouer and ouer, but nothing at all to bee found: and though the theft appeared not, yet the rigour of their punishing ceased not: But as if they had the Law in their owne hands, or had beene to fit vp­on vs as our lawfull Iudges, they did vse vs most cruelly both in word and deed: perhaps it was giuen them so in charge amongst other their instructi­ons. Now they being weary with punching vs, and wee with suffering it, they began to bind our hands, and pinion our armes, to carry vs backe vvith them to Seuill.

Let it be in thy Letany, that God would deliuer thee from committing any offence against these three Holy's; The holy The holy In­quisition is well knowne to the world, what se­uere courses they take. The seuerest and cruellest Officers that are in all Spaine. What base and vile people, are the Sergeants and Catch-poles. Inquisition, the holy Hermandad, in Castile is a certaine Tribu­nall, that hath a great Iurisdictiō, and punisheth the fautls comit­ted in the fields, which hath great prerogatiues and exemptions from the kings of Spaine: And is in that respect amongst them, that it is styled by the name of Santa, or holy. Hermandad, and the holy The Cruzada is an Indulgence which the Popes granted to those, that went to con­quer the Holy-Land, which is now granted to the King of Spaine, by way of Subsidie a­gainst Infidels and Heretickes, giuing some finall almes towards so pious a worke. Crusada: But if thou bee faulty, then pray, That the Lord would deliuer thee from the holy Hermandad: for the other Holy's, hauing (as they haue) vpright Iudges, men of truth, knowledge, and Conscience; their Ministers notwithstanding and vnder-Officers, are of a different condition. And your Sergeants and Catch-poles belonging to the holy Hermandad, are in the generall, a kind of most lewd and wicked people; men without Soules, and not worthy to be spoken of, or named amongst honest men. And very many of them, for a very little matter, will not sticke to sweare that against thee, which thou neuer didst, nor they neuer saw, more then the money which [Page 63] they tooke, to beare false witnesse against thee, (vnlesse thou bestow the wine vpon them, or otherwise content them, by greasing their fist.) They are in conclusion, of a rascall kind of race; very Varlets, Buckle-bosomes, Collar-catchers: in a word, they are Sergeants, and Catch-poles; and so by conse­quence, theeues, passants, or but an Ace lesse; and (as we shall tell you hereaf­ter) those that rob the Common-wealth where-soeuer they come, as if they had a Commission for these their open thefts. And now (my honest Serge­ant) me thinkes I heare thee mutter, that I speake amisse; telling mee, that thou (for thy part) art a very honest man, and dost exercise thy Office well, without abuse vnto any. I confesse as much, and say, that thou art such an one, and that I know thee to be so. But tell me, my friend, (and let vs speake it in secret betweene our selues, that no body may heare vs) doest not thou know, (and confesse ingenuously) that this is truth which I speake of thy fellowes? if thou knowst as much, (as thou canst not choose) and that it is so indeed; I talke to them, and not to thee.

Now had we quite lost our Clergy-men, we shooke hands with them at the first, who walked afoot their way, and we ours. Shall I tell you, vvhat I thought with my selfe? if you will giue me the hearing, I will. Trust me, all the blowes that I receiued, nay, Death it selfe, would not haue beene halfe so grieuous vnto me, as to see my selfe brought backe againe, in this manner to mine owne Countrey, if their resolution had held: if they had carried me to any place, where I was vnknowne to it, and it vnto me, it had not beene a Pins-poynt matter. I should haue set light by it, and cast it at my heele, e­specially considering, that in the end I must be set at libertie, and come off cleare; and that the truth would at last shew it selfe, and make it knowne to the world that I was not the man, they took me to be. We were drawn along like dogges in a paire of couples, afflicted in that manner as thou mayst ima­gine, (if euer the like misfortune should happen vnto thee.) I know not how it came to passe, (but so it was) that one amongst the rest lookt stedfastly vp­on me, and said to one that was by him; How now, what's this? I feare mee we haue taken our marke amisse, and through our too much haste, haue run into an errour. The other answered; Why thinke you so? Hee replide; Doe not you know, that he; whom we are to seeke after, wants his left Thumbe; and this Youth you see, is sound in that part? Whereupon they went to read their Requisitoria is a Iudges War­rant to another, wherein he re­quireth him to execute his com­mand. Guzman, set free. Requisitoria, which did set downe the markes, whereby they should know him, and they found they had beene deceiued almost in euery one of them. But questionlesse, they had a great desire to beat some-body, and so fell vpon him that came first to hand. Presently thereupon, they vn-pinion'd vs, and loosed our hands, and crauing pardon, that they were so much mistaken, they went their way, and left vs soundly payd for our paines; taking some few The Spanish word Quarto, is a kind of brasse coyne, whereof foure make 3. pence. Quarto's of the Carrier, for the sight of the Commission, to moysten their mouthes herewith, at the next Inne that they should light on.

No ay mal tan malo, de que no resulte algo bueno.

There is no ill so bad, from whence there doth not arise some good. If they had not stolne my Cloake from me, by hauing that vpon my backe, they would not haue perceiued, whether I had beene sound of my thumbes, or no? But had it so falne out, that they should haue come to know any such thing by me, it had come so out of season, that rather then I would haue con­fest the fact, I would haue first indured a thousand torments. In euery thing I had very good fortune. My money spent, my Cloake stolne, my belly hun­gry, Guzmans good fortune what is was. my cheekes buffeted, my necke out of ioynt, and my teeth bathed in blood, with the bobs on my nose, and the dashes that they gaue mee on the mouth. My Companion, if he were not worse, was no lesse ill intreated then my selfe. And when they had vs'd vs both thus hardly, to make vs amends, they cry vs mercy, saying; That we are not the men. I pray marke, what a [Page 64] pretty kind of pardon this was, and in what good time it came: first, they fall a beating of vs, before they examine vs; and when they haue almost maimed vs, to make vs amends, forsooth, they aske vs forgiuenesse.

The Clergy-men were now neere at hand, we presently ouertake them; they blest themselues when they saw vs. But I vp and told them, what was the cause of our liberty; for my Companion was so bang'd about the chappes, that he durst not dare to speake, for feare he should spit out his grinders.

Euery one got vpon his Asse, and we began to spurre on, but not with our heeles; because with them we were not able to reach to our Saddle-skirts. And I assure you in good faith, it were a world to tell you, what a bargaine we had of it; how the Faire went, and what a market we made of it.

Then said the younger of the two Clerkes; No more of this (my friends) it is enough. That we may forget part of these sorrowes past, and intertaine the way with some merriment; when my Companion hath ended his The Clergy­men in Spaine, when they tra­uell on the way, haue certaine set prayers to say. De­uotion, I shall relate a Story vnto you; much whereof happened in Seuill. We tooke it all as a fauour; and the other hauing now ended his Orizons, atten­ding this Discourse with a deepe silence, and an earnest desire, wee lookt still when he should begin.

CHAP. VIII. Wherein Guzman de Alfarache relateth the Story of those two Louers, Ozmin and Daraxa.

CHAPTER I.

THOV seest mee here in Caçalla, twelue Leagues from Seuill, vpon Munday in the morning, with my purse pennilesse, and my patience remedilesse: and accused (as you haue heard) for a Thiefe, by way as it were of Prophecie, presaging what I should bee here­after. I suffered inough the first day I set forth; the second, more. For my care increased, and it rained downe hard vpon him, who was too wet already; one mischiefe ouer-taking ano­ther. I had lately money in my purse, and meate to put in my belly: and griefes (as the Los duelos con pein, son menos. Prouerbe is) are the better ouer-past with bread. It is good to haue a father, it is good to haue a mother; but to haue meat to put in a mans mouth, is bet­ter then them both. The third day was to me, as it were, a day of death: for then I had my full load of miseries. I found my selfe then like a leane Dogge, barked at by others; grinning with my teeth vpon all those that came round about me; turning head against all, but not daring to bite any: my cares con­tinued with me; with them, their barking: and hauing hedg'd me in, set all vpon me at once: but that which most troubled mee, was; That I had not [Page 104] where withall to spend, nor any meanes to defray my necessary expences. I knew then, what a Blanca, is a small price of [...]o­ney, Lat. As, as­sis. The effects of Want. Blanke meant; and that he that doth not seeke to gather, doth not make any reckoning of it, nor know the woorth thereof, till he feeles the want of it. This was the first time, that I look't that Hereticke Ne­cessity in the face: I knew him then by his Character, but afterwards I did better consider him by his effects. How many dishonest actions doth it ven­ture on? what cruell imaginations doth it represent vnto thee? what infa­mous things doth it sollicite? what disorders doth it driue thee into? and what impossibilities doth it not attempt? I weighed also with my selfe, with how little our mother Nature is contented; and hauing giuen much to many, yet none of them rest contented: all cry out, They are poore, publishing their wants to the world. O thou Epicure! O thou ryotous Glutton! thou lauish Prodigall! why dost thou talk thus foolishly, that thou eatest and swal­lowest downe so many thousand Ducats yeerely? Say rather, that thou haft so much Rent comming in; and that thou keep'st it in thy hands, but not that thou eat'st it out: and if thou doest eate it out, why doest thou keepe such a complaining? seeing thou art no more man, then my selfe, whom poore Len­tils, dry Fitches, old Beanes, hard Pease, and Bisket that is [...]enowed and moth▪ eaten, keepes as fat and faire, as those that haue daintier feeding. Thou wilt not tell me, nor canst thou (I thinke) giue me a reason, what should bee the cause of it. For my part I know not: but if euer thou hast beene in want, or shouldst (which is possible) be put to shift for thy selfe, and be driuen to need and to lacke, thou wouldst then be able to tell mee another tale. I vvish no man that ill lucke, but onely lament mine owne misfortunes. She is the Mi­stresse Necessity the best [...]. to all things, a subtill I nuentresse, by whom your Thrushes, your Pyes, your Iack-dawes, and your Parrats are taught to speake. I plainely began to perceiue, how Aduersitie makes men vvise: in that very instant, me thought, Adver [...] makes men wise. I discouered a new light; which as in a cleare Glasse, did represent vnto mee things past, things present, and things to come.

Till this present I was a meere Cockney, and well might that name sute with my breeding. For (as it is in the Prouerbe) Hijo de la viuda, bien consen­tido, y mal dotrinado: the sonne of a Widow is well fed, and ill taught. I had many chips to be hewne out of me, and the first stroke of the Axe, vvas this trouble that did light vpon me; which did so wound the maine timber, and so touch me to the quicke, that I know not how to indeere it vnto thee. I saw my selfe abandoned, and so dangerously ingulphed, that I knew not where to find harbour, or to put into any port for to saue my selfe. My yeeres were few, my experience lesse, it being fitting, that they should both haue beene grea­ter then they were. And which was worst of all, (knowing by manifest signes, that my ruine was neere at hand) being willing to aske counsell, I did not know from whom I might receiue it.

I entred into a reckoning with my selfe, and was making my Account; A poore mans account, to what a reckoning [...] comes. which I found to be very bad; my charge was great, and my cash small: I was about not to haue gone any farther; for to go on I wanted meanes, as I likewise did for to carry me home. I was ashamed, being I was come away from thence, to become againe (as it is in the Prouerbe) an Hindge to the doore; (which, howsoeuer that open or shut, it remaines still in the selfe same place) or to put my foot vpon our owne Threshold, in the open sight of my Mother, my friends, and my kinsfolke. God helpe me, how many, from that day to this, haue I seene to be vtterly vndone, and meerely out of this respect! I was (I say) ashamed: how many Virgin [...] haue left off to be so, and haue lost their Maiden-heads, by thinking themselues to be tyde in thankfulnesse for a To be [...] modest e [...] at is [...], [...] cause of great hurt. paper of Sugar-Comfits, and some Loue-verses; or because some vaine fellow hath giuen her musicke at her Window, and made her fall in loue with him, by the helpe of another mans quality; with that very Song, which with a [Page 105] sweet ayre and gracefull voyce another sung for him? How many block-heads (out of shame of deniall) haue entred into Sureti-ship for others, & haue payd the debt, themselues beeing vtterly vndone thereby; and the children (through the fathers folly) for want of maintenance, sent to some Hospitall? How much money hath bin lent and borrowed, for the continuing of friend­ship and kindnesse betwixt man and man; whereby in the end it so falles out, that he doth not onely lose his friend, but his money too? Nay more, many times it so comes to passe, that he that parted with his money, hath not meat to put in his mouth, and is ready to starue for want of food; and hee that had it of him, hath ouer and aboue to pay him; and yet the other dare [...] not aske it him, and all (forsooth) for that he is ashamed to speake to him.

I would haue thee to know, (if thou knowst it not already) that Shamefast­nesse Shamefastnesse, what it is likened to. is like vnto a web in a Weauers Loome; if one thred be broken it rauels the whole Worke. In those things, whereby hurt may arise vnto thee, and driue thee to narrow shifts spoyle the worke, and breake the threds in sun­der, and I assure my selfe thou wilt rather thanke me for it then thinke arnisse Good Aduice. of my counsell. And the inconuenience which thou must suffer, (hauing done that which is desired at thy hands) let him smart for it that craues it, rather than thou, when thou hast done it.

For Modesty and shamefastnesse in such a case, when it stands vpon a mans making or marring, is a thing that is onely proper vnto fooles. It is fit, that thou shouldst haue a kind of modestie in thy selfe, not to do (no not when thou art alone by thy selfe) any foule or shamefull act: but for any other, what knowst thou of what colour he is, or of what metall hee is made? Free thy selfe from him, in that which shall neerely concerne thee; let him not tye thee vp like a Dogge, vvith a chaine and a clogge, behind the doore of thy ignorance: cut, or slip the Collar; get loose, and runne away from him, as fast as thy legges will carry thee. Onely be ashamed to do any thing (as I sayd before) that is shame-worthy. For that which thou callest Modestie, is no Modesty, when to be vsed. Shamefastnesse in some things, is notable igno­rance. better then meere foolerie: if I my selfe had not beene ashamed, I should not haue wasted so many sheetes of Paper, as this volume containes, to acquaint thee with the sad Story of my miserable life: whereunto I might adde many more; but I now ride poste, and must hasten away, promising to deliuer vnto thee farre greater things concerning my life, if God say Amen.

I tell you, it would haue grieued me very much to haue returned home without a Cloake, especially hauing come foorth with one vpon my backe. Not was I willing to be laught at, (which they could not choose but doe) to see what a single-sole Gentleman I was, and how like a naked cottage I lookt, or a bare wall without hangings: Besides, I made it a point of shame, and stood much vpon it. And that hauing put on a resolution at my departing, it had beene pusillanimity in me, and basenesse of mind, to haue had but so much as a bare thought of returning backe againe. I thought, I should neuer haue the like occasion againe, (though I thinke, neuer any man but my selfe, played such an idle tricke) and therefore when I was once on my way, it stood not (me thought) with my reputation to hang an arse, and to pull that foot backe, which had already set it selfe so forward: I made it a matter of shame, which turned afterward to my vndoing; but am not now ashamed to speake this as boldly, as I did vnder-go it foolishly: for such another Asse as I, was there neuer.

The good old Hostesse ran still in my mind, vvho, I make account, will fall ere long into my hands; whom, if it be my chance to light vpon, I beleeue she shall not get from me with her Kerchiefe on her head: I will make her walke with her haire about her eares, and throw her (Sir-reuerence) in the durt. I haue water inough in store for her, [...]o set her vp to the chinne: I am resolued to be reuenged on her, by treading on the very necke of her, and set­ting [Page 106] my foot on her old withered wind-pipe, throwing her first to the ground, as thou wouldst throw a Dish-clout.

Would to God (thou paltry proud Boy, thou vnruly young man, and thou senselesse old Asse) that I had either then vnderstood, or thou didst now know, what manner of thing Shame is, what point of honour and re­putation, considering the great disorders that thou doest, and the idle courses that thou runnest.

I said vvith my selfe, my Reputation lyes vpon't; my Honour is inga­ged; I must and will goe on, my trust is in God, and I hope he will not faile mee. Hauing thus set vp my rest, I resolued to passe forward, with pur­pose to make a iourney to Madrid. For there vvas the Court, where was all the brauerie and gallantry of the world, nothing to bee seene, saue Roses and Lillies great plenty, and aboundance of all things, vvith many Knights of the order of the golden Fleece; many Dukes and Grandes of Spaine; many men of Title; many Prelates; many Knights of the Habit, with many principall Gentlemen of extraordinary ranke and quality; and aboue all, a young King newly married.

I thought with my selfe, because I was a handsome young Lad, vvell shap't, and of some reasonable good fashion in my behauiour, that they would haue gone together by the eares for mee, striuing who should haue me away with him. O how many things did present themselues at once vnto mee! How farre, in this simplicitie of ours, are our deeds, from our It is easie to think on a thing, but bard to bring it about. How both these are painted. thoughts! What made dishes; what hot, what cold; what boyld, what rost? For it is easier to thinke, then to doe. Businesses may bee soone con­ceiued, but they are not so easily effected. Both which in my imagination I thus paint forth vnto thee.

To thinke vpon a thing, I suppose to be like vnto a pretty little Boy, ri­ding vpon a Hobby-horse, with a Winde-Mill made of paper, which hee beares in his hand vpon the top of a Cane, or some little sticke, that comes first to hand. But to bring that thing to passe, I liken that to an old man, bald-headed, weake-handed, lame-legged, who leaning on two Crutches, goes to the scaling of a high wall, that is strongly defended. Haue I spoke too much? I say it is no lesse. For things oftentimes seeme to bee well dis­posed of in the night, when the Candles are out, and all is darke, taking Pillow Counsell proueth vaine. counsaile with our pillow: But the Sunne no sooner appeares, but they va­nish away in an instant, like thinne clouds in the heat of Summer. He that could haue seene mee, when I made this account, might easily haue per­ceiued with what care, and breaking of my sleepes, I framed these things in my thoughts. But they were Castles in the ayre, and fantasticall Chime­ra's, and had scarce put on my cloathes when I had put them all off againe, and throwne them from mee. I plotted many things, but none of my pro­iects did hit right, but fell out crosse, if not quite contrarie to what I had proposed. All was vaine, all lyes, all illusion, all falsehood, and deception of the imagination, and like Duende, is one of the spirits that fell with Lucifer. Tesorode Duende: Or Duendes treasure, we say to be that Estate, or [...], which is all consumed and gone, and a man knowes not how, being va­nished like a spirit. Duendes Treasure, all cold embers, and dead coales.

Now, I goe onward on my way, and hauing gotten me a short Cane in my hand, in stead of a walking Cudgell, me thought, all the while I had that, I had my A Plim­mouth Cloake. Cloake on my back; but it did neither doe me that credit, nor keepe mee so warme, as that would haue done. Onely it seru'd me to vn­der-prop mine arme now and then, whilest I gaue breath to my weary legges.

As I was trudging along, a couple chanced to ouertake mee, trauel­ling that vvay on their Mules: I thought with my selfe, Could I now hold out lustily, and keepe company with them, they could not in kindnesse but pay my charges. But Pescar con Mazo is pro­perly a Mallet wherewith Car­ [...]ters dr [...] [...] Ch [...]. Maço, no es renta c [...]erta. To fish with [Page 107] a Pole, is no certaine rent. Nor, is it to thinke, and to be wise, all one. They To sute this with an English Pro­uerbe, I know not. are two differing things. They had neuer a boy betweene them, to goe a­long and looke to their Mules; they did not ride very hard, though their hearts (as I afterwards found) wery very hard towards me. They rode gen­tly inough, but they were cruell-minded men. Their pace was softer then their bowels, for any compassion that was in them.

I iogg'd still along, and kept close with them: and when wee had gone some three Leagues, or there-abouts, it was neere about Noone. My heart­strings were ready to breake with trotting and galloping after them, because I would not be cast behinde. For, though their gate were easie, yet it put me (considering my youth and weakenesse of body) to the height of my speed. These were men, or rather Beasts in mens shape, for they spake not a word. And I beleeue they were monstrous couetous; and some there are that are so neere, that they will not part with their spittle, if they knew it would serue for a medicine. These miserable wretches would not ex­change so much as one word vvith mee, because they would not helpe mee (if need had been) with some intertainment on the way.

Had they entred vpon some Discourse, or told mee some such Story, as did my honest Clergie man, I should not haue beene halfe so weary as I was. For good company, (wheresoeuer we chance to light vpon it) is a kinde of Good company, what effects it worketh. meat and drinke to the Soule: it cheeres the hearts of Trauellers; it recrea­teth their minds; it refresheth their bodies; it makes them forget their wea­rinesse; it riddeth the way; it easeth our griefe; it expelleth melancholly; it lengthens mans life, and by a particular priuiledge that it hath, it makes horse-men, of footmen. Wee came in together into the Inne where wee were to bait; but I in that case, that there was but little difference betwixt me, and one that is dead, I was e'ne quite out of heart, and cleane tyred out. But that I might get me a morsell of bread to put in my mouth, I was forced to buckle vp my selfe, to bestirre my stumps, to lay aside all ceremonies, and to forget to stand vpon my points. Moreouer I strain'd my selfe beyond my strength; humbled my selfe more then stood with my nature; applyde my selfe to wayt vpon them, to put their Mules into the Stable, and to carry their luggage into their lodging. They were sound and lusty, and had their healths about them, but I had got the Plague by meeting with them. For at the first dash, one of them sayes vnto me; Stand aside (my yong Gallant) get you gone, we haue no need of your seruice.

O Traytors, enemies to God (thought I to my selfe) how vncharitably doe these men beginne with mee? what hope can I haue from them, that they will giue me victuals; or if I should faint on the way, that they would take pitie of me, and set me vp behinde them? They are set downe to dinner: I stood right ouer against them, but somewhat aloofe off, thinking they would haue been so tender-hearted, as to affoord one bit or other from their tren­cher: but I fell short of my hopes.

There came thither at that time a Franciscan Fryer, who was on foot, and all in a sweat. He sate downe to rest himselfe, and anon after, puls mee out of his Wallet (which hung on his left shoulder) a Loase of Bread, and a piece of Bacon. I was so horrible hungry, that I could scarce stand vpon my legges, or fetch my breath, so faint was I growne for want of food.

But not hauing (white-Liuer'd Whore-sonne, as I was) the courage (out of a dastardly kinde of bashfulnesse) to speake vnto him to relieue my want: I lookt pittifully vpon him, and besought him with mine eyes (which is a good dumbe eloquence) that he would giue me a bit of something for Gods sake.

The good Fryer, who read my Petition in my lookes, (with all the haste he could make, as if his life had lyen vpon the speedy doing of it,) said; Bles­sed The Franciscan Fryers Charitie. [Page 108] be God, Though I should want my selfe; yet seeing thee in that necessitie thou now art, I would rather goe vvithout my selfe, then to see my poore brother lacke.

Take this (my pretty Boy) quoth hee; and much good may it doe thee. O to see the wonderfull goodnes of God, the eternall Wisedome, the diuine Prouidence; the infinit Mercy, which in the bowels of a hard stone, doth sustaine a poore silly worme, and prouide it food, and filleth all things li­uing with his heauenly bounty!

They that were able, and had vvherewithall, vvould not (out of meere couetousnesse) giue mee so much as one crumme from their table: and vvhat reliefe I could not draw from them, by all my seruiceable inde­uours, I had from this Mendicant, this poore beggerly Fryer, onely for Gods sake, and out of meere charitie, seeing in vvhat extremitie I vvas Quién proprias necessidades no tiene, mal se acuerda de agenas. Hee that ne­uer knew what want meant, hath little feeling of another mans misery. Mine vvas before them, they saw it, and with it my tender yeeres, and that I had almost broken my heart, hauing spent and tyred out my selfe to keep company with them; yet vvere they not sensible of my wearinesse, tooke no pitie at all of me, nor did commiserate my vvants.

My good honest Fryer, did freely share his victuals with me, wherewith I fill'd my belly, and was vvell satisfied. If that good man, as hee vvent to­wards Seuill, had beene to goe my vvay, hee had ransomed mee from my mis-fortunes, and had made me a happy man: but we were to runne a con­trarie course, and to take seuerall wayes: yet when he was to goe his way, the good man (I shall euer call him by that name,) gaue mee halfe a Loafe that hee had left, and bid me farewell, telling mee, Thou must content thy selfe (my child) with this; had I more, more shouldst thou haue.

I put it in the lyning of the lappet of my Iacket, and faire and softly set forward on my way. By that time I had gone three Leagues more, it was night, then did I supper my selfe vpon my bread, without any other meat in the vvorld; nor was there any that vvould giue me ought else to eate.

It was the Carriers day, and some of them Inned there: Mine Host of the house bid me goe in, and sleepe vpon the Straw, I did so, and past ouer my trauell, as well as I could, being poore and needy, and must doe as I might, seeing I could not doe as I would.

I had made a light Supper, (which you may well beleeue vvithout an oath) for I did not rise the next morning with a full stomake. But when I vvas about to depart, and ready to leaue the Inne, my Host comes vn­to A hard- [...]rted Host. mee, and demaunds a Quarto of mee for my lodging. I had it not, and therefore could not pay it him: the cunning Rogue had a great desire to haue stript mee out of my Iacket, which was of very good cloath.

When I saw I was put to this streight, and that hee was so eager vp­on mee, my eyes were brimme full, and ready to runne ouer with water. One of the Carriers tooke pitie of mee that was there, (for they are not All Carriers are not K [...]es; some haue Soules to be saued. all Blasphemers, and fellowes that haue no Soules) slept in betweene vs, and said, Mine Host, Let the poore Boy alone, I vvill pay it for him. His fellowes askt mee: Sirra, whence are you, and vvhether goe you? Hee made answere for mee, that had paid for mee. What vnciuill people are ye to aske him that question? Is that so hard a matter to be knowne? you may easily guesse, that hee is runne away either from his Father, or his Master.

Mine Host then said vnto mee: How sayst thou my Boy, wilt thou take wages, and dwell with mee? As things then stood with me, me thought it vvas no badde bargaine; yet it seemed harsh vnto mee, that I should now learne to serue, who from my child-hood, had beene taught to com­mand. [Page 109] I told him I would. Get you in then (quoth hee) and rest you heere, for I will not imploy you in any other seruice then the Stable, for the deliuering out my They haue little [...]ay in Spaine, and no Oates at al. Their ordinary feeding for Horse, is chopt Straw, and Barly. Strawe and my Barley, and see that you keepe a good account, and score vp truely, what euery man takes, that neither you, nor they may be mis-reckoned. Take you no care, Sir (quoth I) I shall doe it to a hayre.

And thus I remained there a while, hauing victuals vvithout allow­ance, and feeding (as they say) vpon free cost; and for my worke, that vvas rather a sport vnto mee then otherwise, and holpe well to passe away the time. For till those nights that the Carriers came, there vvas little or nothing to doe; as for other ordinarie Passengers, it vvas not a trou­ble, worthy the talking of. There I learned to steepe Barley in warme wa­ter, to make it increase a third part, and to giue false measure; I had the cunning strike of the hand; I knew how to Hincar el pulpejo. hollow it with mine arme, and to runne ouer the Mangers; and if any man did put me in trust to looke to his Beast, and to giue him his Prouender, I would bee sure to coozen him of one third part of his measure. Some of my Yongsters vvould come in now and then very neatly, in their tricksie Manc [...]bil­letes de ligas y vigotes. Garters, and their trim Mouchato's, as spruce as could be, carrying the show of Gentlemen, but the Diuell a Page or Lackey that they had to attend vpon them. It vvas good holding the Bason to these: they are your onely Dons, to indure a fine Shauing.

With these, wee droue a good Trade. For vvee came vnto them, and ta­king charge of their Hackneys, we did set them vp in such places as vvere appointed for them, where they had the remaines of that the others had left, which went for one halfe of their allowance; and the other halfe they were presently supplide with (though but bad measure;) but when they came to pay, we gaue them a reckoning for the whole. And into the bargaine we had our Hens, and our Pigs, if not now and then the Foale of an Asse, that did helpe to share with them. For bountifull natures, and minds that are magnificent, neuer sticke for trifles, nor offer to stand for small mat­ters; Magnanimus non curat de minimis. so that we had all that we could aske, and they neuer made any more bones of the matter. Our mouthes were the measures, neuer weighing the set prices of things, nor the Sizes set downe in the Proclamation, nor what the Iustices had ordered in that kinde, which were formally hung vp in eue­ry Inne, with a particular taxe to euery thing there specified. For those are neuer kept, and therefore made little or no reckoning thereof at all. Onely they are set vp there at our doores, to the end that the Alcalde and the The Notary. Esçriuano may licke their fingers, and receiue some monethly pro­fit from the fees belonging thereunto. And to take occasion to see, whether they had fixed vp the Cedula or no, with purpose to picke a quarrell vvith them, if they neglected the doing thereof, and so make them pay soundly for it. For the Stable, it is already well knowne, what euery Horses allowance is, and how much it comes to a piece, both for their Straw, their Prouen­der and their Standing. For the Kitchen, that was sport alone to vs, it made vs all merry, for we were quicke vpon that call to come in, and nim­ble (as hauing learned our lessons afore-hand) in the bringing in of our rec­koning. So many A Marauedi, is the thirty two part of a Ryall, which is sixe pence. Ryals (Gentlemen) and so many * Marauedis miche yee God diche you, and you are heartily welcome. Being euer sure to reckon ra­there a Ryall ouer, then a Blanke vnder.

Many (like good wise men as they were) would neuer examine the recko­ning, but lay downe their money presently, saying, Lo (my friend) ther's your due. But some fresh-water-Souldiers, that were but Nouices and yong Trauel­lers, plants of the first Leafe, would aske vs wherefore? How can it come to be much, &c? But this was but to cut their owne throates, and to make vs to [Page 110] inhaunce the reckoning the higher; for when they once put vs to that iumpe, (besides the raysing of our prices in the generall) we did alwaies finde a tricke to adde some-thing, though it vvere but for the boyling of their Olla, is a pot or P [...]k [...] where­in [...]sh, & other things are sed▪ by the Figure Metonym. The Olla is taken for that which is boy­led in it. Olla podrida, is a very great one, contayning in it diuers things, as Mutton, Beefe, Hens, [...], Sawsages, Piggs feete, Garlick, Onions, &c. It is called Po­drida, because it is sod leisurely, til it be rotten (as we say) & ready to fall in peices. And it is therfore [...]earmed Podri­da, for that it is like fruite that is ouer-ripe. Andreas Baci­us, A Roman Phisician, in his booke de natu­ra Vinorum, says; That Olla Podrida, is the same as Pode­rosa: To wit, power­full by reason of its greatnesse, and the variety of the things contayned in it. In English it may well beare the name of Hodge­podge. Couarruuias, verb. Olla. This Olla, is in Spaine the com­mon'st meate of all other, and in most esteeme. They eate the meate first, and suppe vp their Caldo or broth afterwards. Olla, and such like toyes; so that by this time there were many wanting for to make vp the full reckoning, vvhich they were forced to pay in the end, by way of fine or amercement for their folly. For had they (like others) taken their pay­ment quietly, they had not beene so soundly lash't. For you must vnderstand, that the word of an Host, is a kind of definitiue Sentence; there is no appea­ling from it, but to the Purse. Nor is it swaggering or roaring that can serue the turne; your brauings vvill little benefit you; for your Hostes, for the most part, are a company of old Catch-poles, dogged Curres, who out of a scuruie condition that they haue, will with a still mouth hunt dry-foot after you, till he come to some good Towne, and then hee will bawle vpon you (like olde Cryer) and when he hath set you vp, vvill accuse you to the Iustice, That you would haue set his Inne on fire, or that you did bastonado him with a Cudgel, or that you vvould haue forced his vvife, or his daughter; and onely that hee might do thee a mischiefe, and be reuenged vpon thee. Besides, we had some Lures in our house to catch foolish birds with-all, and had some shewes of prouision for poore Trauellers; vvhich were such, that no man that had come into the Inne afoot, vvould haue stayed to goe out a horse-backe: if thou chance to forget thy selfe, and to leaue any thing behind thee, giue it thy good word, vnlesse thou haue the better lucke; for it shall be layd vp sure inough for thy finding.

What shall I tell thee of the thefts, the tyrannies, the impudencies, and the villanies, that daily passe in your Innes and Victualling-houses? There is neither the feare of God, nor of his Ministers amongst them: and for matter of Iustice, either there is none at all to be had against them, or else they take part with them: But God forbid, that vve should beleeue any such things of them; for it is not to be supposed, that your Iustices will be corrupted: But be it so or not so, take it as you will, the remedy thereof were a matter of no small importance. For it is a thing vvorthy the following, that many Wain­men, and those that goe vp and downe with Carriages, do refraine their Tra­ding, through the great expence and charges of your Innes. Trafficke ceas­seth euery where, out of the feare that they haue to be bitten by your Hosts, and Victuallers, who receiue good payment for euill vsage, professing a kind of publicke theft.

I haue beene an eye-witnesse of seeing many things touching these kind of insolencies; vvhich to deliuer, would require a large Discourse. And should we heare the like amongst Barbarians, vve should censure them accordingly; and yet, vvhen we see the same here at home before our eyes, we are not mo­ued thereat. But I sweare vnto you, that Profitable con­ueniences for Trauellours. the mending of the high wayes, the repayring of Bridges, and the reforming of Innes, is not that which requires lesse care, then matters of greater moment, in regard of commerce and trafficke. Howsoeuer, when I shall leaue this house, I haue not farre to go.

CHAPTER II.

THIS beeing too lazie a life for me, I did not like it halfe well; and the lesse, for that it did not sort to my pur­pose. For I vvas no better (to speake the best of it) then an Inne-keepers Boy, vvhich is some-what worse then a blind-man. I had a mind to be a Traueller, and there­on had set vp my resolution, and therefore would not (though it had cost mee a thousand liues) haue beene found there in such a base Office, as that was. There did daily passe by the doore many haggard-Hawkes, young wandring Lads, much about my yeeres and growth; some with money in their purse, others begging an almes for Gods sake: whereupon I said with my selfe, What a de­uill ayles me? or what scuruy metall am I made of, that I should be more co­wardly, and baser-minded then other men? in that I am not sensible, how much I wrong my selfe; and out of a faint-heartednesse, and like a Crauen (as I am) should stoope to picke out a poore liuing, out of such a dung-hill kind of life, as this? Hereupon I tooke heart vnto me, and set a good face on the Cuzman re­solues to part with his Hoste. matter; and so bidding mine Host God b'wy, I vvent foorth to seeke my for­tune, carrying some Copper-money along with me, gotten in a good warre; and some other lawfull purchases that I made: but my store being small, it was quickly gone. When all was spent, I fell a begging: some would giue Guzman falls a begging. me an Ochauo, is a kind of brasse­money, whereof two make three farthings. Ochauo; but most would say vnto me, Pardon me (my Boy) I haue not for you.

With this poore Ochauo, and other his fellowes, I did eate now and then with a gaudeamus, according to my gettings: but this Pardon mee (my Boy) I haue not for you, did me no good in the world: I might haue sate downe with a pereamus, for any comfort that I found in it. Charity was very cold, and it was no maruell; for it was a deare yeere, and there was a generall scar­citie thorow-out the Kingdome. And if there were a dearth in Andalusia, how great then must the want be in the Kingdome of Toledo? and farre grea­ter in the In-land. Then I heard that Prouerbe verified, Librete Dios de la enformedad que baxa de Castilla, y de hambre, que sube del Andaluzia, When there is a Plague in Ca­stile, the inseti­on is geuerall. And when there is a a famine in Andaluzia, the dearth is ouer all the Land. Guzman leaues begging. What shift he makes to liue. Guzman comes to Madrid; and in what kind of fashion. God de­liuer thee from the Plague, that comes downe from Castile, and from the Fa­mine that comes vp from Andaluzia.

Now, because I found begging to be but a poore Trade, and all things else at excessiue rates; food and rayment being deare commodities, I grew so out of heart therewith, that I resolued to follow that occupation no longer, though my wants should be neuer so great. Hereupon, I was minded to make the best I could of those Cloathes that I had on my backe: then I began to vn­binde the Booke, and to diuide it into Leaues: that is, to separate one thing from another, that all might not go away at once; sorting my clothes into se­uerall parcels, consuming one piece after another, till all was gone; selling this, chopping that, and pawning t'other, till I had not a ragge left.

So that when I came to Madrid, I look't like one that had newly come from the Oare, or some gentile Rower returned lately from the Gallies, I was [Page 112] so lightly clad, hauing nothing on but a Canuas paire of Breeches, and a course Shirt; & that none of the cleanest, but as foule as foule might be; all to tatter'd and torne, and so rotten with age, that it vvas ready to fall from my backe. And this I was forced to do, to keepe life and soule together, and all little i­nough to serue the turne.

Seeing my selfe thus out of reparations, and all to be rent and torne; how­beit I sought after Seruice, thinking to winne credit with my good words, no man vvould trust me the more for my faire tongue, but grew rather ie­lous of my euill conditions; insomuch that I could not meet with any that would giue me intertainment, admit me into his seruice, or suffer me to come within his doores, because I vvas without a Cloake, and so nasty in my other cloathes; that out of a very loathing, they were able to turne a mans sto­macke. They did thinke, that I was some roguish little Thiefe, and that if they should take me in, I would filch some thing from them, and betake mee to my heeles when I had done.

Seeing my selfe in this desperate state, counting my selfe, as it were a lost man, I began to follow the Trade de la Florida Picardia, exercising all your Cony-catching trickes, knauish prankes, fine feates, with slight of hand, and whatsoeuer Rogueries come within the compasse of that prowling office. The shame that I had to returne home, I lost it vpon the way; for trauelling a­foot as I did, it wayed so heauie, that I was not able to bring it along with me: or perhaps, they that stole my Cloake, carried it away with them in the Cape thereof; and this is sure the likelier of the two. For euer since that time I haue beene troubled with a lazie kind of yawning, and a * Feuer-lordane, ^a The Spanish word is Calo­frio: Lat. Pa­roxysmus, fri­gus si [...]ul & calorem indu­cens: & no­men habet à calido & fri­gido. Hunger and Shame, mortall enemies. Guzman be­gins to [...]rne Ticaro. which did prognosticate the Disease I should be sicke of to my dying day. A Pockes vpon Shamefastnesse, which hung still vpon me, and yet I had none of it; for I began to free my selfe from that irkesomenesse, and that little shame that was left me, I turned into [...]mpudencie: for Hunger and Shame could ne­uer yet be made friends. My former Modestie (I confesse) was meerely out of my shallownesse of wit, and now I find, that it was euen then a foolish kind of Simplicitie. And in those dayes, I playd the child, as others of my age do: but now, like a Vyper, that hath stung mee vnawares by the hand, I haue shak't that Vermine from off my fingers ends. I fell in with other Tassel­gentles, much about my size and pitch, that were high Flyers, and cunning in the catching of their prey. As I saw them do, so did I, as well as I could: but because I was but newly entred, and was not yet come to that true flying to seize the Partridge in foot, I did assist them with my best indeuours, refu­sed no paines, followed their steps, and walked their stations; whereby I came to picke vp my crummes, and to gather a few Blankes together. Thus I sayled vp and downe, fetching my boords to and fro, still sounding as I went along, to see how many fadome I was off from the shore, and what new Countrey was vpon discouery.

I could now hunt out for my supper, as well as the best of them, and knew certainly where to haue it; but I was to take heed, that I playd the true Clock-keeper: for if I failed of my hower, (especially at your Monasteries, and Religious Houses) and did not truely keepe the due time, limited and prescribed by them, I was shut out, and left in the darke: so that I had now learned the fashion, to shew my selfe a mannerly Ghest, by staying rather for Need is a dili­gent [...]ayter. others, th [...]n that others should stay for me. This loytering kind of life was not without its cares; and as idle as it seem'd to be, it was painfull inough vn­to mee: for, while I led this Roguish life, I learned to play at Cock-All, at Handy-Pandy, and at Nine-holes▪ from these I went a Forme higher; I knew how to play at Noddy, One-and-thirty, Quinolas, and Primera: in a short time I profited so well in these my studies, that I past on to the vpper Forme. I could cogge a Dye handsomely, and if I had good lucke, all was mine owne [Page 113] (especially if I met with weake Gamesters.) Nor would I change this life of a Picaro, this roguish life of mine, for the best that any of my Ancestors euer ledde.

I had a moneths mind to the Court; and I went daily refining my wit; I set a new edge vpon my vnderstanding, and inriched my braine with new Phi­losophie. And seeing others of lesser worth then my selfe to grow from a lit­tle, to a great deale of wealth; and from meane beginnings, to come to migh­ty matters, and to eate their bread without begging, nor expecting it from others hands, (which is the bread of sorrow, and the bread of blood) yea though it should be bestowed vpon thee by thine owne father: out of a desire Bread of Sorrow, what [...] is. that I had to attaine to this glorious liberty; and that I might not (as many others) be punished as a Vagabond, and runne the censure of a wandring Rogue, I applyed my selfe to carry such burdens, as my weake shoulders were able to beare.

The Fraternity of Asses is a great Brother-hood; for, euen men haue beene willing to bee admitted into this Companie; and haue beene glad to yeeld themselues to carry vncleane and heauie Loades, with as much patience, as the silliest Asse aliue, as if they had beene borne for no other end, but to ease them of their burthens. Now, if men are growne to that basen [...]sse, that they will quite the Asse of his Hamper, and clap it on their owne backes, onely to gaine an Açumbre is a Ia [...] or Pitcher, containing about a Pottle, little more or lesse, and is one mans al­l [...]wance in wine. The Açumbre we di [...] into foure Measures, called Quar­tillo's. It is an Arabicke word. All things are hard in the be­ginning. Açumbre more of Wine, that they may drinke the freelier, when they haue done their worke: see in what ample manner their Assishnesse ex­tendeth it selfe; what a strong hand it hath in the world, and to what a migh­ty Corporation it is now growne.

But to let this passe, I confesse vnto thee, that I was some-what cold in the matter at the first, and fell to it with an ill will; but aboue all, I was wonder­full fearefull: for being a thing that I was neuer vs'd to before, it suted ill­fauouredly with me at the first, and worse afterwards, when I was entred into it: for all beginnings haue their difficulties; and are not so easie at the first as they seeme to be: but after I had taken a rellish of this Roguish life, and found the sweetnesse of it, I could tread the true Tracke of it, and was growne so perfect, that I could haue gone blind-fold to my worke, and not haue stept a foot out of the way.

What a fine kind of life vvas it, vvhat a dainty and delicate thing without Thimble, Thred, or Needle; vvithout Pinsers, Hammer, or Wimble, or any other Mechanicall Instrument whatsoeuer, more then one onely bare Basket; like vnto those of your Brethren of the Order de Anton Martin, (though vnlike to them in their goodnesse of life, and solitary retirednesse) I had got­ten me an Office whereby to liue: and such a kind of Office, as seemed to be a bit without a bone; a backe, without a burthen; a merry kind of Occupation, and free from all manner of trouble and vexation?

I did often thinke on the life that my Parents led; and that, which I had made tryall of in this so short a time; as also, that which they had vnder­gone to so little purpose, and to their so great cost. O▪ (said I to my selfe) what a burthen is the weight of Honour? And what metall is there, that can e­quall Honour, what a burthen it is. it in poyze? To what a world of inconueniences, is that man lyable, who is driuen to make vse of it? How warily, and how circumspectly must he goe to worke? What a deale of care, and sudden passions, come vpon him? What high and slender ropes must he runne vp and downe vpon? Thorow how many thousands of perils must he sayle in this vaste Ocean? Into what infinit troubles must hee thrust himselfe? And amidst how many Bram­bles, and Bushes, and pricking▪ Thornes, must he im-bryer, and intangle him­selfe withall, and scarce get out of them, without leauing his [...]ece behinde him, if not his skinne? What a thing is it, that my honour must bee subiect to the mouth of the dissolute, and to the hand of the indiscr [...]t and vnaduised [Page 114] man? The one by word, the other by action. Against which, all the wit and force of man is not able to preuaile, nor to turne that vnruly tyde, when it shall breake in vpon vs. What phrensie of Sa [...]n, what malice of the Diuell was it, to marry this foule Abuse vnto Man, which is able to make him run mad, and irrecouerably to lose his wits? As if he did not know, that Ho­nour True Honour, is the Daughter of Truth. is the Daughter of Truth. And see how much a man is Vertuous, so much is he Honorable, and no more. And it is impossible, that my honour should be taken away from mee, as long as my Vertue remaines with mee, which is it's proper Centre. Onely mine owne Wife may take away mine honour from me (according to the opinion of Spaine) by taking away first her The honour of a mans Wife, what it is. owne: for she being one and the selfe-same thing with my selfe, my Honour and hers are one, and not two, as being but one, and the same flesh; and what­soeuer shall be said in the contrarie, it is but scurrility, meere wit and inuen­tion, and the idle dreames of a fantasticke braine. Happy is that mans life, that neither knowes what Honour meanes, nor seekes after it, nor hath any thing to doe with this Titulary top.

I was euer of the minde, that if that man that pretends Honour, should but truely open his eyes, & looke vpon it without partialitie, considering (not carried away with passion) the effects thereof, he would not stoope to take it vp; nor touch that with his hand, whose burthen must either breake his backe, or make him sinke vnder the vveight thereof to the ground. O how troublesome a thing is it, first to get it? how difficult afterwards to keepe it? how dangerous to hold, how easie to lose, as depending on the common esti­mation and opinion of men? But if it rely vpon the Vulgar, and that bee the What the honour of the Vulgar is. proppe that must vp-hold it, it is one of the greatest torments that Fortune can giue, or man suffer in this life, vvho desires to end his dayes quietly, and to passe his Carreere peaceably, vvithout being crossed in his Course. And albeit men plainely perceiue, that this which I say is true, and they see the ex­perience thereof daily before their eyes, yet they vvill not sticke to hazard their liues; nay to giue their very Soules for it, as if that should saue them an­other day.

Thou thinkst it no honour vnto thee, to cloath the naked, to feed the hun­gry, nor to exercise (as thou oughtest) those good deeds, that belong to thy Christian Honour, what it ought to be. function, and many other things, vvhich I know, and am silent in; and thou knowest them to thy selfe, though thou doest dissemble them; thinking that others perceiue it not, and that thou carryest things closely, when as indeed thou dancest but as it were in a net, and all thy actions lye open to publique view, which my pen shall omit to set down, that I may not point them forth vnto thee as it were with the finger, and whereof perhaps, when I shall haue deliuered thee my minde, thou wilt make no more, if not lesse reckoning of it, then of a blast of winde, or a puffe of smoake, that presently vanisheth, and is no more seene.

Canst thou thinke it an Honour vnto thee, that the Hospitall should bee maintained with the droppings of thy Tap, and the Scraps of thy Kitchen, (when there is not a Dogge, that waites at thy Trencher, but fares better?) Canst thou thinke it an honour vnto thee, that thy Mules should haue their Linnen and their Woollen cloathes, whilest Christ (in his members) dyes out of very cold, not hauing wherewith to couer his nakednesse? Canst thou thinke it an Honour to thee, that thy Horses should be as fat as their skins can hold, that they are euen ready to burst againe with the fulnesse of their feeding, while the poore fall downe at thy gate for want of food, their weake legges not being able to support their hunger st [...]ued bodies? No, thou canst not. And I presume, the practice of euery good Christian is farre other­wise. And this is that honour, which euery man ought highly to esteeme, and may iustly seeke, and hunt after it. But that which thou callest honour, may [Page 115] more properly be termed Pride, or foolish estimation, which makes men fall into Hecticks, and P [...]ysicks, and with a canine appetite to catch greedily at that Honour, which is no sooner had, then lost. And not onely that, but with it the Soule; (which is a thousand pities) which euery good Soule ought to auoid, and bewaile.

CHAP. III.

ALBEIT, (as being then but a Youth) and newly (as they say) Honour, how prettily it is heere compared. crept out of the shell, this being the first flight that euer I made, I had runne thorow many miseries, and suffered much want, yet I past them all ouer as easily as I could; imagining still in my minde, that Honour is like vnto your early fruits, that are soo­ner ripe then the rest, and brought first into the Market, which though they be excessiue deare, & not to be had, but at a high rate, and vnmeasurable prices; yet all doe equally buy them, and pay alike for them, euen from him, that hath a purse to beare it, as from him, that hath not the like abilitie. What a great presumption and shame is it, that a poore Husband-man should buy halfe a pound of your first Cherries that come into the market, which may chance to cost him the price of so much bread, as would very well serue to sustaine him­selfe, his Wife, and his Children? O holy Lawes, and O happy Kingdomes, that shall put a bridle to this abuse, as a thing tending to the generall hurt of a Common-wealth! For (there being no restraint in that kinde) they buy, and eate thereof without limit, or moderation, neuer growing weary of buying, nor glutted with eating: Which too timely, or rather vntimely fruits, breed no good nutriment, corrupt the bloud, cause raw concoction, and ingender euill humours, which afterwards pay their bodies with sound Agues, sharpe Feuers, strange Parasismes, and other the like grieuous, and painefull infir­mities.

I sweare by the faith of an honest man, that such a deuouring of Honour, will cost thee more then one purge. I was neuer ambitious in this kinde, ne­uer greedy of this honour, neuer gaue it a good looke, since I first knew it; e­specially, when I saw Pages, Seruing-men, and Prentises forsake their old Trades, to follow new courses, and to get themselues into some odde Office, Honour ill placed vpon so [...]e. or other, as farre repugnant from their nature, as heat, from cold, and as much differing from their disposition, as heauen is distant from the earth. Yester­day, thou wouldst haue sent thy Seruant to one of these fellowes, to will him to come to thee, and when he had come, giuen him an Ha, or a Nod, or a plaine Counted a disgracefull word in Spaine. As if heere in Eng­land we should in scorne Thou a man. Vos, which was as much, if not more, then he deserued. And now that he hath got but an Office vpon his backe, hee sends the next day for thee by a Porter, where thou must sue and intreat that hee will be-friend thee in such a businesse, and stand with cap in hand, crowching vnto him, giuing him the Worship, with a Sir-reuerence at euery word, beseeching him, that his Worship would be pleased to doe you this or that fauour.

Tell me, is not that true of this man, which is spoken of that proud Bird the Peacocke, who t' other day hauing scarce euer a feather to couer his na­kednesse, doth now boast his silken plumes, and spread abroad his golden traine? If this be true, it must likewise then follow, that when this painted puffe shall haue his tayle pluckt, all his gilded feathers, and rich imbroyde­ries [Page 116] taken from him, which natures richest hand hath so curiously wrought; if any mis-fortune befall such a man, and that he once come to be stript of his honours, downe goes his goodly traine, and his plumes beeing pull'd from him, is iust the same man, as he was before.

And if you shall but weigh and consider this thing well, you shall find such Touching Ho­nour, and the honoured. men as these, not to be men of Honour, but men honoured; for they that are truely honourable, haue this honour from, and in themselues, and no man can so pill and pull their feathers, but that fresher and goodlier plumes will come vp a-new in the place, and be more glorious to looke to then before.

But the honoured, that receiue their honour from another, one while you see them; another while you not see them. So long as the merry moneth of May lasteth, so long are your flowers fresh and faire to see to: As these flow­ers, so are those fauours, which the Fauourite receiueth from the Prince, or person that fauours him. They soone fade; they had but their time, and thats gone, and they with it: And then they returne to be the same men they were before.

Whilest the sap is in the bough, it is greene and flourisheth; but when it goes backe into the roote, it dyes and withereth for the time. So it stands with your Fauourite; his Honour flourisheth like the greene Bay-tree, while his Princes fauour shines vpon him; but when hee cals this in againe vnto himselfe, as the tree doth the sappe, and it returnes to the roote from whence it came, his honour is nipt in the head, and is no better (if not much worse) then he was before his rising. So haue I seene some men mounted on high, imployed in great affaires, and to haue held great places of Dignity and honour in the Common-wealth, which might haue beene put into the A reprehending of those that are So [...]s and Do [...]s, and yet seeke a [...] ­ter Offices, and Places of great preferment. hands of Gentlemen of approued good iudgement, and excellent parts, and thought themselues happy, if they had beene conferred and bestow'd vpon them.

To these men I haue call'd as I haue lyen in my bed, and cryde out vnto them: How now (my friends) whither away goe ye with these Offices? Who (if they heare me) might very well answere: I vow to God, I know not my selfe: I thinke they are therefore giuen vs, that wee should make our profit of them, feather our nests, and in-rich our selues, as well as we can. But thou doest not consider (wretched as thou art) that the burthen which thou bea­rest, thou neither truely vnderstandest, nor is it properly belonging to thy profession: and that in losing thine owne Soule, thou ouerthrowest withall another mans businesse, and art bound in conscience to make him recompence, for the wrong thou hast done him.

Doest thou not know, that there belongs more to the dispatch of businesse, and deciding of differences betwixt party and party, then there doth to the sowing of a Garment, or the shearing of Cloth, or tolend such a Gentlewo­man your arme, when you Vsher her along the streetes; which grace shee vouchsafes to affoord thee, for that hands sake, which did aduance thee?

Peraduenture, thou maist haue beene askt the question, or thy selfe mayst perhaps haue made some secret scrutiny in thine owne bosome, whether thou didst finde thy selfe of ability and sufficiency to performe thy charge; or whether thou hadst the knowledge and vnderstanding to doe things well and handsomely, without wronging thy Conscience, going thy selfe to hell, and carrying him along with thee, that did conferre thy Office vpon thee? But some babbling fellow here-abouts, which I suppose to be some one Bar­bers man or other, (for they are commonly a kind of Climactericall and dan­gerous prattlers) will giue me this short answere: Wee can. It is a strange thing to see the humours of some men. Consider with mee (for Gods sake) what businesse hath with it so many tricks, so many shifts, and so many dif­ficulties, as hath this? We are all of vs men (the best of vs are no more) and [Page 117] when the wheeles are once set a-worke, wee imagine, they must goe well i­nough of themselues, without any care, or looking to of ours. O what a pitie is it, that thou shouldst then begin to learne an Office, when thou should'st come to vse it! O what a griefe, to see a mans practice out-runne his know­ledge! he being as vnfit for the Place, as the place for him.

The Pylot is fearful of gouerning his Ship, (not only in tempestuous weather, but at all times, euen in the calmest Sea, and fairest Season; by reason of those sudden accidents, and various casualties, which hourely, nay, euery minute may befall him) although he be his Arts-master, and throughly vnderstands, what he hath to doe vpon all occasions. And thou, which neuer sawest the Sea, wast neuer taught thy Compasse, nor knowst what belongs to the Art of Nauigation: Wilt thou, I say, venture to steere a Ship, and ingulph thy selfe, thou knowst not whither, no [...] into what danger? What wouldst thou thinke or say, when thou seest a Boy fumble on the Citterne, and when hee should come to play before thee, not to be able to strike a true note; what a tearing would this bee to thine, or any other musicall eare? O how harsh would it sound? And yet all this while, thou doest not, or wilt not perceiue, that when thy selfe commest to vnderstand thy Place, or to thinke, that thou vnderstan­dest it (which is the truer of the two) for want of knowledge, thou hast not onely lost that, but thy Lords loue together with it, and the time which thou hast spent, and nothing left to comfort thee withall, but the fooleries, which thou hast committed therein. Follow thine owne trade, and exercise thy selfe in those things, thou well vnderstandest, thrust not thy Sickle into another mans Haruest, and meddle not with those things, that are fitter for others, then thy selfe. But this is not so much thy fault, as of those that thrust it vpon thee, who haue more, then thou, to answere for it: it is a Commutation, that lyes heauily vpon the Conscience. But to proceed.

Euen now, but to day, haue I knowne these kinde of men, meane, poore, and miserable creatures; on the morrow after, they haue risen vp in a strange fashion, vtterly vnknowne vnto me (like him that dyes his Beard, or being old and strooken in yeeres, growes to be young againe,) exalted, and set aloft, looking bigge vpon the matter, expecting to haue the first Cap, and to bee first saluted by those, whose seruants they might well haue been, and that in meane and base offices, and yet haue thought it preferment good inough for them. I knew very well, which way he would goe, that led the daunce; & whence this violence did proceed, by altring things, and putting them out of their due course, thrusting out the naturals, to bring in strangers. I likewise was not ignorant, that those that did murmure and repine thereat, had good reason so to doe; for by giuing vnto euery one, that which of right belongeth vnto him, the gall of Enuy and Malice is thereby broken and split in sunder. For it is an case to the sicke stomake of a State, when Offices seeke men, and not men Of­fices, whence great scandall and infamie doth arise. For by how much the more high Places make them to be knowne, that doe not deserue them, by so much the more they mak [...] the owners of them to be contemned and despi­sed. And these vndeserued dignities▪ go not away without their payment. For as they are an affront to those that hold them, when they are vnworthy of them; so they suffer dishonour in themselues, by beeing conferred on such vndeseruing persons; Leauing him likewise, who did bestow them, subiect to In [...]amy, Detraction, and Obligation to make satisfaction to the State, for the wrongs occasioned thereby.

Heere I alight, and make a stand, shutting vp my conceit within it's bounds, that it may not straggle too farrre. This ware I sell you as mine owne, and recommend it vnto you for good, vnlesse you vnder-value it for the sel­lers sake. And I must needs confesse, that this off-spring of my braine is wor­thy a better father. But doe thou dispose of it, and compose it, according as [Page 118] thy selfe shall thinke fit, by amending such faults as thou findst amisse. And though it be a beggers Brat, and the sonne of a Rogue, yet conceiue withall, that we are all men, and haue all of vs vnderstanding; and that El habito no Cucullus non facit Mona­chum. haze el Monge: it is not the Coule, that makes the Fryer. Yet in this, as in all things else, I submit my selfe to thy censure, and am willing to receiue thy correction.

Now by this time, thou knowest my weaknesse, notwithstanding I would haue thee to know, that there was not that day went ouer my head, wherein I did not runne ouer my beades, besides other deuotions that I did. And al­though I heare thee murmure, that it is a common practice amongst Thieues and Ruffians, to haue their Rosario. Las cu [...]ntas para rezar. Latine, Sphae­rulae, Precato­riae, Corona. Rosario still in their hand, faining themselues to be very deuoutly affected towards our Lady: Thinke, and say what thou wilt, I care not a rush, for I desire not thy good opinion, nor seeke to winne any cre­dit from thy mouth. Euery morning, the first thing that I did, was to goe to Church to heare Masse; that being done, I afterwards began presently to cast about, how I should spend that day, for the getting of something to su­staine my selfe withall, and to keepe me from staruing.

I once remember, that hauing layen some-what long a-bed, and finding my selfe not halfe currant, I thought it not fit, that day, to take any paines for my liuing: it vvas a Festiuall-day, and to Church I went, vvhere I heard high Masse, and a very good Sermon by a learned Augustine, vpon the fifth A Discourse vp­on the S. o [...] Mat. Chapter of S. Mathewes Gospel, vvhere it is sayd; Let your light so shine be­fore men, that they may see your good workes, and glorifie your Father which is in Heau'n: vvhere by the way, he bestowed a little sprinkling vpon your Cler­gie-men, your Prelates, and such as vvere beneficed: telling them, That they Clergie-men cha­ritably reproo­ued of their faults. had not these great Rents giuen them for nothing; that they were to looke rather vpon the greatnesse of their charge, then into the greatnesse of their Reuenew; and that these good things were not confer'd vpon them, to fill the belly, and to cloath the backe, and to waste and consume these good bles­sings of God in vnnecessary idlements; but in feeding the poore, and cloa­thing the naked, and in dispensing to the needy, and those that are in necessi­tie; ouer whom God had set them as Stewards, and no otherwise; or to speake more properly, hath appointed them his Administrators ouer this his Hospi­tall. And that in putting this Steward-ship or Administration into their hands, it was more particularly throwne vpon them, then any other, as on men of all other the most to be trusted, and (by reason of their Profession) least interessed in the World: mercifull-minded men, vvholly retired from the world, and from those confusions which accompany it; to the end, that with the more care, and the lesse trouble, they may apply themselues to this Mini­sterie, wherewith they were in-trusted.

Would to God they would open their eyes, and looke to vvhom they giue, how, and on what they do distribute it; for it is anothers money, and not their owne, whereof a strict account will be taken of them. Let them not therefore abuse the trust, that is reposed in them; God neuer sleepeth; he is still awake and se [...]th all our Actions. Nor will it boot them to vse trickes and deuices to defraud him but in a Farthing, or to coozen him of the least Mite. For as it is the gaine of Iudas, so shall they receiue Iudas his reward. He sayd in the generall, that their manners and behauiour should bee like vnto the Lantern [...] in the Admirall, to the rest of the Fleet, by whose light, all the rest What manner of [...]en Church-m [...]n [...]ght to be. of the Ships should steare their Course, and still haue an eye vpon it, without troubling themselues in other worldly affaires, and matters of profit to their purse, which is contrary to their Profession, and to that obligation, where­unto they are bound by Gods Word, which cannot lie.

I remember ver [...] well, [...] then call to mind a certaine friend of my fa­thers, how ill he disposed [...] which he had got, and the ill example which [Page 119] he left behind him: this was his end; and with this the Preacher ended.

Many other excellent good things did he vtter to this purpose, and strong­ly confirmed what he deliuered with forcible reasons; which for the in-de­cencie of my profession, I willingly silence; nor is it fitting for a man of my fashion, to make mention of them.

That night my sicknesse increased vpon me; my bed was none of the best, nor much softer then a piece of an old Matt, that is full of holes, and throwne Guzmans mi­serable condition. vpon the dung-hill, as good for nothing. The cattell went grazing on the hu­mane Pasture of my miserable corps; I awaked with their nibbling▪ fell a scrubbing, and finding no disposition in my selfe to sleepe, I made a repeti­tion of the vvhole Sermon to my selfe; as one, that vnderstood very well, that Euery man, euen the meanest, is bound to be ver­tuous, and to haue a good con­science. albeit his speach tended more particularly towards Church-men, yet it did in the generall appertaine vnto all; from the Myter to the Crowne; from the most powerfull Prince, to such a poore Caytiffe as my selfe. Lord be merci­full vnto me, I began to thinke with my selfe, that this did as well concerne me as them: and that I was a kind of Some-thing; that I had a soule to saue as vvell as they; and that there was some reckoning to be made of me too. Then I began to examine my selfe, What light am I able to giue to others; or how can it be had, much lesse, shine in a man, whose office is so vile, and so base as mine? Yes (my friend) quoth I: and it belongeth also vnto thee, and therefore I speake it vnto thee; for thou likewise art a member of this mysti­call Body, equall with the greatest in substance, though not in quality. Beare thy burthens well and faithfully; make not your Vintage out of other mens Grapes; doe not nimme and purloyne by the vvay; conueying from the Bas­ket to the Breeches, into pri [...]y Pockets, and false Linings, that which is none of thine. Doe not shrinke the shoulder, as if thou hadst the dead weight of Plate vpon thy backe; and do not thou moue as slowly, when thou hast but two Loaues to carry, as when thou art laden with two Beames, or maine pie­ces of Timber.

Make a conscience of thy gettings; bee moderate and temperate in thy What your Por­ters that carry baskets, and the like burdens, ought to do. gaines; not demanding more then thy labour is woorth; vse all men well, but bestow thy paines on the poore for nothing; offering that freely, as thy first fruits due vnto God. Be not dishonest, be not vicious, be no Glutton, nor no Drunkard: call thy conscience to an account, be sure to keepe a true score and reckoning with it: for, in so doing (like that poore olde woman in the Gospell) thou canst not want the comfort of lifting vp thy heart, and thy eyes vnto Heau'n, saying; Blessed be the Name of the Lord. For euen in Rogues there is some vertue, some sparke of goodnesse; and this in thee shall bee thy Light.

But in my iudgement, both now, and then vvhen I heard the Sermon, (that we may returne againe to our former consideration) what he spake (be­sides that which concerned the Clergy and the Communalty) had especiall reference vnto Princes, and their ministers of Iustice, whereof I should haue spoken when I made this my Digression. These are truly sayd to be the Light; and in that sacred Chapter-house, or in the greatest part thereof, all is Light, Light, how it ought to be in those that be are Office. more and more Light still, to the end (to leaue them the more inexcusable) that they may not alledge hereafter, that they had not any Light at all. Con­sider with me, that the Light ought to subsist (as the Agent) in some subiect (as the Patient) whereon to worke. As for example, in the Waxe, be it Torch, or any other thing whatsoeuer. I say then, that when any such kind of per­son, be it another, or be it thy selfe, shall represent himselfe, as a Light vnto me, thy good workes, thy faire behauiour, thy ciuill carriage, thy zeale, thy Rules for him that gouernes others. holinesse of life, is that which makes thee to shine, and to giue Light vnto o­thers. What thing is it then, thinkst thou, to haue an Office throwne vpon thee, or some great dignity or other? It is a putting of Waxe to this Light, [Page 120] to make it shine the more: but tell me then, what is the office of the Light? It is to go with his heate, drawing and sucking the Waxe still towards him, that it may burne the brighter, and maintaine it selfe the better. Euen so must thou do with thy Office; thou must drinke it in, as it were, and incor­porate it into this Light of thy vertues, and honest course of life, that all men may see it, and imitate it, bearing thy selfe so vprightly, that prayers may not moue thee, teares may not soften thee, gifts may not corrupt thee, menaces may not daunt thee, anger may not ouer-come thee, hatred may not disturbe thee, nor affection deceiue thee. Againe, which offers it selfe first to our sight, the Light, or the Waxe? You will grant me, the Light: if so, then so behaue thy selfe, that thy Office, which is the Waxe, may be seene after thee; and Offi [...]rs compa­red to the [...], and to Waxe. that the Office may be knowne by thee, and not thou by the Office. It often so fals out, that the Waxe is much, and the Light is little; whereby the Light comes to be drowned and quenched in it; as in case the Torch should be great, and the Weke small. Other-times it happeneth, that the Light is turned Bad Officers, and their euill effect [...]. down-wards; and so by melting the Waxe aboue, it is presently extinguished and put out.

So we see, that the good in thy selfe is so little, and the Office which thou art put into, is so farre beyond the measure of thy Merit, that that little Light thou hast, is smoothered on the sudden, and so thou remainest in darknesse. Other-whiles, thou turnest these thy vertues towards the ground, by incli­ning thy selfe vnto euill: for thou dost make thy Office to melt as it were at the top, and to waste and consume its light, by thy robbing, by thy cooze­ning, by thy ouer-commanding, and contemning the poore: vsing in his Cause, delayes; in that of the rich, all possible speed: with the poore thou deal'st rigorously; with the rich, gently and mildly: on the one thou frow­nest, on the other thou smilest: the poore thou proudly tramplest vnder thy feet; but the rich thou salutest with Cap in hand; bowest thy body, vsing him in all the rest, with a great deale of loue and kindnesse. And while this is in doing, Death comes on thee vnawares; it seizeth suddenly vpon thee, thy life is quickly at an end, but thy damnation remaineth for euer. Others there are, who (as I sayd before) draw Light from their Office; and whereas they them­selues ought to be the Light, they are indeed but the Waxe. Wouldst thou know the condition of these men, and what they do? I will tell thee: What, I pray, is the property of Waxe? To goe by little and little, wearing and wasting away; haling the Light violently after it selfe, till they both go top­pling out, vanish away at last, and come to nothing. Iust so is it with these kind of men; they liue in that manner, (hiding their Light vnder a Bushell, concealing their good Workes, and burying all Vertue and Goodnes in them) that they make no vse of it, nor esteeme it: onely they esteeme the Office, which they haue made their Light: this, they go forcing, as it were, by vio­lence, they tugge and hale it vnto them, that they may incorporate it into themselues, that they may reape their profit by it, skimme the Creame from it; and not onely that, but to draw away its very heart-blood. And so by lit­tle and little, together with it, they themselues likewise consume away. Ill they liu'd, and ill they dye: as was their life, so was their end. What doth he thinke with himselfe, that suffers himselfe to be made Waxe, when he taketh from one that which is his right, or that which he iustly deserueth, and doth transferre it on a foole, or some vn-worthy person, whom he hath a desire to pleasure? Shall I tell thee what becomes of this man in the end? He melts and drips away like Waxe, not knowing how, nor which way he comes to bee consumed: his health decayes, his honour diminisheth, his wealth wastes away, his friends faile him, his wife, his children, and his kinsfolke, are taken from him by Death; on whom, as on the proppes of his house, leaned all his God [...]sheth [...], and [...] what manner. pretensions, he is swallowed vp with Melancholy, as it were in a graue, or [Page 121] some deepe pit, yet knowes not the cause why, nor whence it should proceed. But the cause (my friend) is, that these are the whips of God, wherewith he scourgeth them temporally in this world, in that part which shall paine them most, besides that which he reserueth for their farther punishment, in the world to come. And his diuine Maiesty, for the comfort of the righte­ous, is willing, that those, that doe dissolutely sinne, by doing publike and o­pen wrongs, contrary to all right and reason, should be corrected in the sight of men, and in the open view of all the world, to the intent that they may magnifie him in his iustice, and draw consolation vnto themselues from his mercy, which is also made knowne in the chastisement of the wicked.

Wouldst thou liue in health? wouldst thou bee cheerefull and merry? wouldst thou continue free from those disturbances, which might giue thee cause to lament? wouldst thou abound in riches? and leade a contented life without melancholly? Take then this rule of me; Make thy dayly ac­count A good lesson for those that desire, to liue well and happily. with God, confesse thy selfe vnto him euery day, as if that very day thou wert to dye.

Let Iustice be obserued by thee in that maner, as it is defined and set down vnto thee, giuing to euery man that which is his due: Eat of the sweat of thine owne browes, and not of the labours of other men; and to this end, store thou vp such riches, as are well and truely gotten; so shalt thou liue conten­tedly, so shalt thou be happy, and euery thing shall prosper and thriue with thee, and all shall goe well with thee and thine.

In good sooth I am halfe afrayd, that this consideration of mine hath ledde mee on a little too farre, where-into I haue so farre thrust in my foot, that I had need of some helpe to pull it out. I haue launched out too much into the deepe, and ingulphed my selfe before I was aware. I haue almost lost my selfe in this businesse, in dilating vpon this point, and should runne out much more at randome, if I should goe about to tell you, why, and how, some of these things, are thus and thus carried, whether out of priuate interest, or affection, or passion, &c. But I will bee silent, all shall bee hush with me; for I will not (in these tongue-controlling dayes) that the Law take hold vpon mee. Secreta mea mihi: My secret I will keepe to my selfe; I will locke it vp close in mine owne bosome: besides, good and dis­creet silence is counted a holy thing: Though in that which I haue spoken, I acknowledge my excesse, and confesse I haue (with the Cobler) gone be­yond my Last, this being a point of doctrine, fitter to bee discussed by a Why Preachers refuse to reproue sinne, and to cry out against it? Preacher, then a Picaro. These barkings will require better mouth'd Dogges. Let them stretch out their throats, and yawle alowd, that they may discouer the theeues. But alas, it may happely, or rather vnhappely bee, that they haue their mouthes stopt with a crust, which makes them to hold their peace.

CHAP. IV.

I Haue made a long and a tedious digression, and am well witting thereof to my selfe. But I would not haue thee make it a matter of wonder; for the necessitie that enfor­ced me therevnto, was very great. And if two or more hurts meet in one and the selfe-same body, it is good dis­cretion to succour the more important, not being vnmind­full in the meane while of the lesser. So doth it often oc­curre in Warre, and in all other things whatsoeuer. I assure thee by the faith of an honest man, that I am not able to tell thee, which of the two were the greater, either that which I did let alone, or that which I tooke in hand, con­sidering how much both of them imported, and of what consequence they were. But let vs redeeme the Pawne that stands ingaged, and returne againe to our former matter, following the pursuite of that Discourse, of whose foo­ting, we haue found the pricks already.

It was my hap one day to beare in my basket, (which I brought from the Shambles) a quarter of Mutton, for a certaine Hosier, or Gentleman Taylor. I had by chance at that time about me, certaine old Coplas, son cartas que venden por las call [...], y en las plaças los cicgos. Coplas, or Ballads, which (in a kind of broken tune) still as I read this or t'other line, I fell a sing­ing, as I went along. My good Master hauing (as it should seeme) listened vn­to me, look't backe on the sudden, and smiling, said; How now (my totter'd Raskall) a pox take you for a ragga-muffin, can you reade, you Rogue? Yes marry can I, Sir, (quoth I) I thanke God, I can reade reasonable well, but my writing is better then my reading. Sayst thou me so, Boy? And with that he intreated me, that I would teach him to write his name, or to make some marke, that might serue for a subscription, or vnder-signing (hee cared not A Taylor would faine learne to write his name, o [...] to make his firma or marke. And the reason why? which) for either would serue his turne. I pray Sir (said I) what good can this doe you? What can you benefit your selfe, by hauing learned to make a bare marke, and no more? Me thinkes you should haue no great vse for that a­lone, vnlesse you could write too. Yes marry haue I, Sir (quoth he,) for I haue much worke goes through these hands, of such and such great men, I make all the cloathes their children weare (and there by the way, he reckons me vp a bead-roll of these and these Lords) and therefore I would very faine, (if I knew how) learne to write my Name, or to make my Marke, that (if occasion were offered) I might not be taken for an Asse, and say (like a foole as I am) when I am call'd to subscribe, Indeed, Sir, you must pardon mee, I cannot write. And so this businesse broke off as abruptly, as it began. And I making a large Soliloquium, and meditation to my selfe, went on a good while with the same after this manner.

Heere (Guzman) thou shalt see, what a kinde of thing Honour is, seeing it Honour, what kinde of thing it is? is conferred on such as these: It is, the sonne of Nothing; the Child that knowes neither father, nor mother; the Earth's off-spring, beeing raised out of the dust thereof; it is a fraile Vessell, full of cracks, of flawes, and of holes, vncapable of containing any thing in it, that is of any moment or worth▪ Fa­uour hath indeuoured to mend this broken Bucket, and to stop the Leakes thereof with clouts and with rags; and putting therevnto the rope of priuate interest, now they draw vp water with it, and it seemeth to bee very be­neficiall H [...], compa­red to base per­sons. and profitable vnto them. It is one of Peter the Taylors sonnes, whose [Page 123] father, howsoeuer he got it, were it well, or were it ill, made a shift to leaue him something to liue vpon. Or like vnto that other, who by stealing from others, got wherewithall to giue, and where-with to bribe, and suborne. These are the men that are honoured now adaies, they speake high language, and vtter arrogant words, and presse into all your great Assemblies, and prin­cipall meetings, as if they were the only men, and none but they. These now take the vpper hand, sit downe first, and take place of all men, whom hereto­fore you might haue ranked amongst your Muletters, or scarce so good men as they.

Behold, how many good men haue with-drawne themselues from the Court, and liue a priuate and retyred life at home? How many habits of St. Iago, Calatraua, & Alcantara, sowne with white threed? How many of the ancient Nobilitie of Zayn Caluo, and Nunno Rasura, trodden vnder feet? The more rich, the more honour.

Tell me I pray, who is that that giues honour vnto some, and takes it from other some? Marry, it is more or lesse wealth. O what a braue Canon is this, to qualifie a man? what an excellent Rector, what a learned Schoole­master? How discreetly doe they graduate a man, what a good examination doe they take, before they preferre any! Tell me once more I pray: What dif­ference is there in their Obligation, between him that cōmeth fairely (as thou saidst before) by an Office; and him that buyes an Office, whose money only (without any other merit) hath inthroned him in the Sancta Sanctorum of the world? Whence comes it to passe, that the man that is discreet, noble, ver­tuous, well descended, of a sound and sober iudgement, long practice, & more experience, a true Master of his Art, should (by being depriued of his due preferment,) remaine poore and needy, shut vp in a corner, excluded from businesse, afflicted, and peraduenture inforced to derogate from his owne worth, and to doe that which is not agreeable to his disposition, that he may auoid the incurring of a worse inconheuience? Thou hast put too hard a taske vpon me, considering that slender satisfaction, that I am able to giue thee: But I shall tell thee, according to my talent, and as the poorenesse of my vnderstanding shall giue me leaue.

When I consider thereon, as a thing properly appertaining vnto God Gods secrets con­cealed from man. (whose iudgements are inscrutable, and hidden both from men and Angels) I shall not inter-meddle, or straine my selfe any further therin, then the shortnes of my apprehension shall be able to reach vnto. Which is; That he very well knoweth, how to proportion his gifts, and to giue vnto euery one so much as is needfull for him, for his saluation. And therefore when a man shall faile of such or such an Office, or misse such or such a preferment, God saw it was not so fitting for him, for causes best knowne vnto himselfe, or for that hee fore-knew that it would be a meanes to worke his condemnation, whom he is willing to saue, because he hath predestinated him to a better place.

And this is as much as can be said concerning him, who doth not obtaine that, which he deserueth. But for that Fauorite, or person of Power with his Prince, that shall either be a blocke in this mans way, or strippe him of the Office that he worthily holdeth, who is not a Iudge of the inward intentions, nor of the hearts of men, neither is able to examine them; but must goe vpon trust, and make his iudgement by externall and outward things, (which he can only see and know) doth often-times tread awry, and peruert and wrest things to an ill sense: If it may be lawfull for vs to speake in a rusticall phrase; applying the language of heauen, to that here on earth, I say, that vpon the margent of this great mans Account, God doth (as we vse here to doe, when we will marke a thing the better, and looke more narrowly into it) shut one of his eies, to make his sight the surer, when he mindes to hit the marke hee aimes at. I say then: I wil demand of these men, what cause they had to do this wrong, knowing that my threatnings are out against them? O ye Iudges [Page 124] of the earth, because ye haue iudged vnrighteously, I haue prepared for you a hard and insufferable punishment: I will reside in the Synagogue of the gods, and I will iudge them. O, what a griefe is it, how many thousands of pitties, that these men (knowing this to be true) will aduenture to come be­fore that vpright and true Iudge, when the Accusation is certaine, which is brought in to condemne them; and the restitution now wanting, which they ought to make; without the which, their sinne cannot be forgiuen them; and yet would not, when time serued, take order to make amendment for so foule a fault▪

True it is, that peraduenture there were not some wanting, that would whisper them in the eare, and say; Sir, you may doe this very well, and not sinne, it is not a thing that ought to trouble your conscience, you did well, (which is no more then euery wise man would doe, were he in your place) in bestowing this Office, on that kinsman, that acquaintance, that friend, or seruant of yours, which are neerest vnto you. But (to speake the truth) thou couldst not doe it; for thou didst remoue it from it's right place, and put it into that, which was vnfit, and improper for it. Looke ouer thy Cardes a lit­tle better, thinke well on this businesse, and then thou wilt tell me (my friend) that it was an errour in thee, and that thou couldst not doe it; And because thou couldst not do [...] it, thou didst sinne; And because thou didst sinne, it was not well done. Doe not listen to the words of fooles, nor of flatterers, in a thing that concernes thee so much as this doth: it were better for thee that thou wouldst gird vp thy loynes, and looke vnto that which may doe thee hurt, and seeke in time to preuent it, lest the remedie come too late. For there are some Confessors, that will giue large Absolutions, who are like vn­to Taylours, who will tell thee, that the garment which they haue made for thee, fits thee very well; but thou knowest better then they, whether it wring thee or no, whether it be too streight, and vneasie for thee, and how it sitteth to thy body. And God doth permit, because thou didst not seeke after one (whilest thou wast liuing, and in place of authoritie) that should tell thee the truth; at the time of thy death, when thou art in thy last agonie and an­guish of soule, thou shalt not meet with that true friend, that shall then tell it thee, but rather sooth thee vp to thy condemnation. Looke about with thine eies, open wide thine eares, and suffer not these busie Bees of Satan, to put honie into them, nor there to swarme and in-hiue themselues. For these their sweet words will but leade thee on in the high and ready way to damnation.

But to returne againe vnto these kinde of men, in respect of God, I doubt not of their punishment; And in regard of man, I must plainely tell thee, that they open the doore to murmuration, and giue occasion to the people, to speake thereof in publike, not sticking to vtter (as I said before) those ends which I thought should haue beene kept secret: taking pittie and compassi­on of so many merits, so ill rewarded; and of so dis-proportionable an Ex­change as this, in seeing the euill, by euill meanes, to be in highest esteeme: and the good, by reason of their goodnesse, to be excluded, and shut out of all. But I can assure you, that God hath numbred all the haires of their head, and will not suffer one of them to fall to the ground. Though men therefore may chance to faile them, yet let them comfort themselues with this, that they haue a good God to friend, that will neuer forsake them. This is the World, and thus things goe.

I therefore will neither haue Empire, nor Dignitie; I will not haue Ho­nour, I will not so much as once looke vpon it. Keepe thy selfe as thou art, (Guzman:) continue (my honest friend) the same man still. Let others (a Gods name) be the Councell of the Common-wealth, the Oracles of the State; let them neuer thinke vpon thee; Enter not into that place, whence [Page 125] thou canst not get out, when thou wouldst: Doe not put thy selfe into that danger, which may bring a continuall feare with it; Desire not to haue too much, lest it chance to be taken from thee; nor too little, lest thou bee driuen to beg; Doe not pretend any thing by way of flatterie: Doe not in­tangle thy selfe in many businesses, lest they should disquiet thee: Seeke to be the Vsufructuarie, and free inioyer of thy life, that by vsing of it well, thou maist liue safe in thy estate. Why shouldst thou keepe a stirre, and trouble thy selfe for that, which to morrow is to be no more, and when it is at the most, is of no iong continuance? What doest thou, or any man else know, is become of the Mayor-Domo to King Don Pelayo, or of the Chamberlain to Conde Fer­nan Gonçales? They had honour, and they held it, but neither of them, nor that, is any memory remaining. So shalt thou the next day be forgotten, as if thou hadst neuer beene at all. Why then is there so much greedinesse, so much thirst, and so much coile; one for his belly, (for to so great a Vanitie are w [...] now growne, that to eate and waste much, is held no small reputation) ano­ther for his backe, and a third for honour?

No, no, these things are not for thee, and if thou offer to trouble thy thoughts with them, thou shalt not liue to be an old man, or else thou shalt be old before thy time. Leaue, leaue off, I say, the swelling pride of these huge Gyants, and thrust them vp against the Walls; let them stand there, as Bug­beares to fright children, as being good for nothing else.

Cloath thy selfe in the winter, with that which may keepe thee Warme; and in the Summer, with that which may couer thee, not going too slouenly, nor too pompously▪ rather decently then richly; Eate no more then may suf­fice nature, preferring moderation before excesse, for whatsoeuer is more then necessary, is meerely superfluous. For by it, neither the rich man liues, nor the poore man dies. But the diuersitie and abundance of meates, is rather a dis­ease then otherwise, breeding viscous and slimy humours, whence arise grie­uous sicknesses, and mortall Apoplexies.

Twice, thrice, nay foure times happy art thou, who risest in the morning Libertie, how pleasant a thing it is. when thou wilt, and at what houre thy selfe listeth, without once thinking of seruing, or being serued by any body; for although it be a trouble to haue a Master, it is also a trouble to haue a seruant, as you shall here by and by. At noone, feed freely, dinesecurely, runne not vpon the score with thy Cooke, nor be indebted to thy A Cater, that makes prouision for victuals. Dispensero, send not for thy Coales from the Mer­chants Sellar, where they gather In Spai [...] they sell their coales by the pound. wet and moisture, in stead where of they will bring thee in dust and stones, wherewith thou wilt be coozened; for there are more deceits in the world, then thou or any man else knowes, saue God alone. Seeke not to excell in brauerie, affect not too much neatnes; feare not euery spot that may fall vpon thy clothes, be not in loue with rich Imbroderies; be not too carefull to keepe, nor too fearefull to lose. Bee not enuious nor suspicious; Let no occasion moue thee to lie; Doe not purchase preferment by vndermining of others, nor worke not another mans Ruine, to worke thy selfe into fauour. Thinke it fitter for thee to goe alone, then ac­companied; a quicke, then a slow pace: rather laughing then weeping; ea­ting then dancing; without being noted by any. That is the best Tauerne to thee, where thou meetst with the best Wine: And that the best Cookes shop, where thou lightest on the best morsell: In the Market place, thou maist make choice of the best seat, and so thou maist the like at all publike Feasts. In the Winter, get thee into the Sunne, in the Summer into the shade. Thou maist couer thy Boord according to thine owne minde: thou maist make thy Bed, according to thine owne liking; without paying one pennie either for the making or standing of it: And maist choose, whether any man shall see thee, disquiet thee, or contradict thee. Keepe thy selfe aloofe from Law-businesses: liue a stranger to Sutes & Actions: free thy selfe from false Witnesses, for feare [Page 126] they should part thy goods amongst them, and become masters of all that thou hast. Let no man be able to aske thee a penny; keepe thy selfe safe from Decrees; Beware how, and whom you trust, and vpon what termes: but a­boue all, (which will be no small glory vnto thee) take heed, how thou be­com'st a surety for any man. Giue no cause to haue any executions come out against thee; nor thou to doe the like against others: Shunne all contentions and debates, and all manner of suites in Law. Last of all, rest thou satisfied and contented, so that nothing may oppresse thee, nor breake thy sleepe, that thou maist rise betimes in the morning to thinke vpon those things that may turne to thy good, by reforming what is amisse.

All men can not doe all that they would; yet our good God is not forget­full of the poore, hauing opened a way vnto him, whereby he may liue con­tented; The poore man may, [...] himselfe well, liue happely. not giuing him more cold, then his body is able to beare, suting his cō ­stitution, according to his cloathes; so that he may passe in this world, as well as the rich, if he will but order and gouerne himselfe aright. But this life is not made alike for all men: And vndoubtedly, the first inuenter must be a most fa­mous Philosopher; for so happy a reposednesse, is to bee supposed to haue it's beginning from some singular wit. And to speake truely, that which is not so, costeth much trouble. And those that doe not so passe through this life, are the men that suffer, and pay for all:

Walking through this world with many disturbances, contentions, and molestations; flattering, idolatrizing, carrying things away with a strong hand, plotting of tricks, violently haling by the haire, that, which neither ought to be suffered, nor is fit to be effected, or any way in the world to bee borne withall; shutting their eyes all this while against that, which it con­cernes them to see; but are very sharpe-sighted in looking to their profit, no­thing shall passe by them then: They are Linxes, and Eagle-ey'd, when their prey is before them, though it were better for them in these things, to bee as blind as the Beetle, or the Mole: For then they begin to lay their Nets, to pitch their Hayes, fall a setting of Lime-twigges, watching how to put themselues forward, by making of Pit-fals, wherein to to intrap men, thinking to raise them­selues, by the fall of others. For they doubt not of their owne comming for­ward, if they can but once come to thrust others backe. Vanity of Vanities, and nothing but Vanity.

O what a grieuous thing is it, that a man should suffer such a number of ca­lamities, and for no other end onely, but to vphold his frayle and vnfortu­nate What a trouble­some thing Ho­n [...] i [...]? honour from falling? And he that thinkes he hath surest possession of it, liues but with so much the greater care to repayre and maintaine it. I retur­ned againe and againe to consider thereon, neuer ceasing, nor neuer inough sa­tisfied with the repeating of this saying: Happy, thrice happy thou, who hast wrapt Honour in a Coffin of Lead, and with strong cords, tying heauy stones therevnto, hast buried it in the Sea, whence it may neuer rise vp any more, nor appeare vnto the world.

I likewise beganne to thinke with my selfe, what a hurtfull thing in a Fa­mily, Bad seruants, what a ba [...] they are to a house. is a villanous, an vngratefull, a coozening, and a lying seruant: where­of now a-dayes, the world is too full. And if we shall briefely decipher forth vnto you such a manner of seruant, you shall finde him to be a Foole; a Slo­uen; a carelesse Companion; idle, lazie; a bagge, fill'd with nothing but ma­lice, and roguery; a Funnell, to powre in all manner of discord, and dissenti­on; full of prattle, vpon euery slight occasion; and dumbe, in those things, that are of any moment; ignorant, in speaking; and impudent, in grum­bling.

Shall I character forth vnto you a Maid-seruant, or a Nurse, that will serue The wickednesse of [...], and their [...]. for any thing? You shall haue her sluttish, theeuish; with a Brother, a Pa­rent, or a Kinsman, euer and anon asking for her, troubling thy house with [Page 127] dayly visits; for, and with whom, she returnes so many nights, euery weeke, by retayle; diuiding that time amongst them in parcels, which shee should lay out in the grosse in thy seruice; deuoted onely to the loue and seruice of her Sweet-heart: earnestly desiring to see her selfe made Mistresse of a Mantle: shee will looke for good maintenance, and be her wages neuer so good, that proportion will not serue the turne, but as she sees occasion, she will still bee grating more and more vpon thee: And you must ouer and besides, allow her her wine into the bargaine, because forsooth her stomake is weake, and cannot digest her meat without it. If wee will but looke out into the street, which way so euer we turne our eye, we see euery thing want some-what in the finenesse of it's Loy and true touch, all is false, and without law, nothing that is perfect, neither in weight, nor in measure.

And that this is true, looke into your Shambles, your Hucksters, and other Falsehood in sel­ling of wares. shops of retayle in the Market-place; and then you will tell mee what a deale of coozenage they vse in the venting of their wares, and with what gainefull cunning they vtter their commodities. Besides, to what desperation doth a false, or corrupted Notary driue a man vnto? Against whom, euen truth it Against Nota­ries, Scriueners, &c. selfe hath not the power to preuaile. For the Stemme onely of his Quill, and the very nib of his Pen, is more dangerous against whom it is bent, then a strong-steeled Launce, or a Canon of Brasse, with all his batteries.

What thinke you of alying Attourney? a wrangling Lawyer? Both men of an euill conscience, full of tricks and of quillets, skilfull in deceiuing, cunning Against Attour­neys & Lawiers. in plotting, and aboue all, wonderfull louers of delayes, making it their maine study to put off and prolong suites, that they may licke their own fingers, and fill their hungry bellies, at other mens cost.

What say you, to an obstinate and head-strong Iudge? one of those igno­rant Against Iudges. wilfull ones, who will not sticke perhaps to say of himselfe; I vnderstand my selfe well inough; I know what I speake; nor will I bee taught what to doe. When indeed, he neither vnderstandeth, nor knoweth, nor doth any thing that is fit, nor is well vnderstood by others. At the first, hee seemed milde and gentle (before hee was warme in his Office) like a Bull amidst a Heard of Cowes; but when he came forth, he appeared fierce, and full of rage, as if he had been stucke with darts, and his bloud drawne from him. He wore a garment, which for the shaping of it into fashion, setting the pieces hand­somely together, and to make it fit for wearing, had need of more then a thou­sand Scedules, and as many Passe-ports, as also the thread of Theseus; for it is a Labyrinth to enter into. O with what hunger is he affected! he thinkes hee shall neuer be full inough. So that I must say, nothing escaped his hand, were it little or great; the bare fell, or the whole Fleece. I found he offended in all: In this by an I; in that, by a No: In some things; by doing, in some things by not doing: Offending, not only in matters of Omission, but in sinnes of Com­mission. Who, like the Lyonesse, can with lowd roarings put life into these little Whelpes, (these dead truthes) to the end, that by taking breath, some remedy might be had?

Let vs runne through all occupations; Looke I pray into your Taylor, with whom it is now growne to a custome, that you must pay something to the Against Taylors setting vp of their The Spanish word is Pen­don. And so it may signifie som­thing giue [...] to the Corporation. Against, Masons, Smithes, Carpen­ [...], &c. Signe, else your worke shall ne're be made an end of; or if it be, it shall be spoyled in the making, or they will filch so much of your stuffe from you, as shall lessen you Coat, and inlarge their Vailes.

Your, Mason, your Smith, your Carpenter, and all other Trades-men what­soeuer, none excepted, doe all steale, all lye, all coozen: none of them deales truely, no not one. And which is worst of all, they take a glory therein, and thinke themselues, in so doing, to be iolly wise fellowes, and Masters of their craft; holding those that deale more honestly (if there be any such) to be sim­ple men, and poore seely fooles, that want wit.

[Page 128] Let vs looke a little backe, and see, if we shall not finde an Apothecarie in a Against Apothe­caries. blind corner, who because he will not be said to say I haue not such a thing, or so, nor discredit his shop; will not stick to giue you contrary Syrrops, counter­fet Oyles, falsify'd Waters; you shall not finde one Drugge that is of true and perfect goodnes, or any Compound made according vnto the rules of Art; they mingle, baptize, and make confections (according to their owne liking) of differing qualities, and diuers effects, thinking (in their poore discretion) that there is but little difference betwixt the one and the other, though it bee contrary to all truth and reason. And thus doe they kill many a man, making of their Boxes, and their Vyals, Dags and Pistols; and of their Pils, Pellets; wherewith (as with so many Bullets) they lay vs dead on the ground.

But you will say, Master Doctor ouer-sets him, and that there is not an in­gredient, Against Doctors of Physicke. but carries his eye, and direction with it, and therefore the dan­ger is so much the lesse.

True: But if you doe not fee him well, he forgoes the cure; and if you doe fee him well, hee prolongs it: And so by this meanes, some, nay, many times, his sicke Patient mis-carries, and is sent vntimely to his graue.

And it is a thing worthy the noting, that Lawes being the Daughters of Reason, if you put a Case to a Lawyer, or aske his opinion, hee studies it, and will not resolue you, till he haue well and truely considered thereon, be­cause it is a matter of goods, or of Land, which may concerne a mans ma­king, or marring.

But your Physician, no sooner comes in to visit you, but presently by the touch of your Pulse, as soone as euer his finger hath felt it, hee in­stantly knowes your disease, though it be vtterly vnknowne vnto him, and remoued as farre from his vnderstanding, as earth, from heauen. And then, (that hee may not betray this his ignorance) hee forthwith prescribes, and applyes such remedies vnto you, as are more truely meanes to bring you to your last home, then to restore you to health. Shall it not bee fit (if that Aphorisme of theirs bee true) that life is short, the Art long, experience deceitfull, and the iudgement hard and difficult, to goe on by little and little, as it were by degrees, till they bee thorowly entred thereinto, and become Masters of that which they would willingly cure, by studying that which they ought to doe therein? To treat of this, would aske a long dis­course. All goes topsie-turuy; all Kim, Kam; all, is tricks and deuices; all Riddles and vnknowne Mysteries; you shall not finde man, with man; we all liue in ambush, lying in wait one for another, as the Cat, for the Mouse, or the Spider for the Fly; who roming carelessely vp and downe, suffers her selfe to be taken by a slender thread, whilest that venemous ver­mine, seazing on her head, holds her fast, neuer leauing her, till shee hath kill'd her with her poison.

CHAPTER V.

I Found my selfe free from all these things, as subiect to none of them, except infirmitie, and sicknesse. In regard where­of, I had a determination, to haue put my selfe into an Hos­pitall. I inioyed a free and flourishing kinde of liberty▪ prai­sed by the wise, desired of many, and so much applauded and Libertie, a great iewell. re-applauded by the Poets. To whose true valuation, all the gold and riches of the earth, are not to bee compared, as things of to poore and meane a price. I had it once, but had not the wit to keepe it. For it being my course of life (as a thing whereunto I was accusto­med) to play the Porter, and carry burthens, and being now as well trusted, Guzman, [...] Porter, or Basket­ [...]carer. as I was knowne, all my care was▪ to come acquainted with some one false Cater or other (Gods curse and mine goe with him) that was the Purser, Dis­bu [...]ser, Distributer or Steward, or by what other stile or Title, in that kinde you shall call him. This Despensero, or Cater (as you please) had a good con­fidence in me, trusted me very farre, and would often send me away alone by my selfe, to carry those things home to his house, which he had bought in the Market. This my continued Conuersation and daily commercement with him, did (which it should not haue done) procure his good liking, and loue to wards me; Insomuch, that he remoued me from that Office, and preferred me to be Scullion of the Kitchen, which was as much as my ambition could then reach vnto.

Hee would often-times tell me, (and one day amongst the rest, and I re­member it was in the morning; he made me along Oration, flourished ouer with a great many of faire Promises, so that by climing from one round to another, I began to conceiue with my selfe, that I should come at last to be a A Ruler or Go­uernour of a City, or Towne. Corregidor at least.) That if I would apply my selfe to that Office, and take paines therein, behauing my selfe well and honestly, when I was growne fit and perfect, he would be a meanes to place me in Court, and put me into the Kings seruice; where when I had seru'd so many yeeres in the Kitchen, I should be well rewarded, and might afterwards iiue richly of my selfe, and be mine owne man.

O how quickly did this vaine blast puffe vp my emptie Pate; This giddy­winde mill of mine was set a worke, and turnd quite round with the breath of his words. The aduenture I saw was small, and the gaine might be great.

Well, he brought me to the Cooke my master (we being well knowne to each other.) When I came thither, (as if it had beene the first time that wee had seene one another) he spake to me in a proud commanding manner. How now (Sennor few-clothes) what winde draue you hither? What make you here, goodman Shag-rag,) you Cauallero de Illese as, is a certaine Towne neere vnto Tole­do. King Don Alonso. Anno Domini. 1176. made a Donation thereof to the Church of Tole­do. But it is now reuerted againe to the Crowne. Illescas is an Arabicke word, and signifies, lasciuious & dis­honest loue. Cauallero de Illescas, is a word vsed in scorne. Couarruuias. Illescas? Haue you any businesse here? or doe you come to abide with me? Sure I was ill aduised; for when I saw he began in so high a key, I was about to shew him my backe and to leaue him to himselfe, and his [...]ie; (for Summer was now fully in▪) I started, and stood as one astonied, not knowing what answer to make him, but when I saw there was no remedie, I replide; yes Sir. Come your wayes then (quoth he) [Page 130] in with me; And if thou dost thy dutie (said he) and shalt deserue well at my Guzman goes to s [...] a Cooke. The dutie of a seruant. Guzman his readinesse [...] ser­uing his Master. hands, thou shalt not lose thy labour.

I told him, I was very well assured, that in seruing his Worship, I might gaine by the bargaine, but lose nothing, because I had nothing to lose. Then he ask'd me; Doe you know (sirrah) what you are to doe? All that (I mild­ly replide) that you shall be pleased to command me; or my selfe either know, or am able to performe. For he that sets himselfe to serue, must not refuse (when need is) to doe any thing, but that which more properly belongs to the dutie of his place, he ought cheerefully to vndergoe it; and to applie himselfe as well to the one as the other.

He seemed to like well both of my speech and vnderstanding; and I hoping to be well rewarded, flew in like a Hawke for the prey. At my first comming, I behaued my selfe very respectfully towards him▪ and serued him as punctu­ally as I could; and he againe made much of me, and vs'd me as kindly as heart could wish. But I did not only seeke to please my Master (who was a married man) and his wife my Mistris, euen in the meanest seruices, seruing them in all things else besides, both in Towne and Countrie, at home and abroad; taking vpon me the Office both of Man-seruant and Maid-seruant, (saue only that I had neuer a Gowne to put on, nor a Mantle to couer me withall, to waite vpon my Mistris when she went abroad;) But for all other seruices of the house, as sweeping, rubbing, scowring, setting the Pot ouer the fire, dressing of meate, making of Beds, laying the Estrado, is a kinde of halfe pace, couered with Turkie Car­pets, and furni­shed with faire long cushions, whereon your great Ladies and Gentlewomen sit, when they re­ceiue any Visits. But now adayes, your ordinary wo­men in Spaine [...] growne into this fashion, ta­king more state vpon them, then s [...]les with their conditions. Estrado in order, smoothing and plaining it, that not a wrinckle was to be seene, and other the like seruices were my ordinary exercise; (And for that I was the only man, all this was committed to my charge:) But I laboured besides to giue good contentment to all the rest of my Masters seruants. So that my heeles were as nimble to runne vpon the least boyes errand in the house, as the Stewards, the Pages, as the Mayor-Domos; for him that rub'd the Horses heeles, as for him that was Vsher of the Hall. One would haue me to buy such and such necessaries for him; another, that I would brush, and make cleane his clothes; This man, that I would get his band washt and starcht for him; that, that I would car­rie some The Spanish word is, Raçi­on, [...]rata por­tio; a set allow­ance. A silent [...]gue, and a [...]rue [...], did neuer hurt any seruant. prouision home to his wife; A third, to his Wench. And all this I did without grumbling, or muttring, or any the least vnwillingnesse in the world. I was neuer any Tale-carrier nor sower of sedition; nor did I euer discouer any secret, or report againe what I had heard, though it were not deliuered vnder the seale of Silence vnto me, or that the relators had laid their finger on my mouth. For I was not so ill bred, but that I knew very well, what, and when it was lawfull for me to speake, and when to hold my peace. Hee therefore, (whosoeuer he be) that serues, must haue an especiall care to obserue these two things; VVherein if he faile, he will quickly ruine him­selfe, by drawing all mens ill will vpon him, and making himselfe the most hated man in the world. VVhereas nothing doth more recommend a man, then a faire carriage, and a faithfull heart. When I was chidden, I neuer replide: and made it my studie, to giue them as little cause as I could, to finde fault with me. I would not willingly haue any mans displeasure; And all my care was, to doe what I was commanded. And when there was need of my seruice, or that my helping hand might doe any good, I was seldome or neuer wanting; I was Iacke at a pinch, I was here, and there, and euery where. And albeit these diligences of mine cost me a great deale of labour and paines­taking, yet I lost nothing by it; for the good commendations that they gaue mee, and the kinde words that they spake of me behinde my backe, and the hopes that I had to be well rewarded, when time should serue, seemed to me a sufficient paiment▪ and I was well contented therewith. The good vsage o [...] the Master [...] a [...] the [...].

Good vsage, is a great heartening to him that serueth: It is the spurre which pricks on the Will, and makes it goe forward; it is the finger, that [Page 131] beckens our affections, it is the Lure, that calls our desires, it is a Charriot, wherein our forces (like strong Iades) draw on without wearinesse, and tugg, stoutly thorow thicke and thinne, it is good seruing of some men, and they deserue to haue seruice done them Gratis; And there are some men againe, that a man would not serue for any money. But of all others, I disclaime that Master as vnworthy to bee waighted on, that will neither giue his seruant good wages, nor good words. Kinde vsage will make a man worke out his heart, but high language and poore paiment, will kill any spirit liuing, and make a seruant grow neglectfull, if not weary of his Masters seruice.

Then might I affirme, that leauing my roguish kinde of life, this Picardia The commenda­tion of a r [...]guish life. of mine, (as a Queene, whose name I am not worthy to take in my mouth, and whereunto any other politicke course of life is not to be compared) all the brauerie and gallantrie of the curious method of liuing happily, and passing well away the time, which the world solemnizeth so much, must yeeld, and giue place thereunto. But this, (though accompanied with much care) was exceeding good, good in the highest degree, for such a one (I meane) as my selfe, who had beene daintily bred vp in the midst of delights. So that me thought, I was in a manner reduced and brought backe againe to my old bias, and naturall course of life, as farre as it concernd the Bucolicks: for my The morsels I did cate. Bo­cados were of another kinde of qualitie and rellish, then those of the Bodegon, or a Pie-corner Tripe-wiues shop; they were otherwise drest, otherwise sea­son'd. And in this, those of St. Gil, The principall victualing places in Madrid, and what poore kinde of things they [...]e. Santo Domingo, Puerta del Sol, Placa Mayor, and Calle de Toledo, must pardon me, and hold me excused; howbe­it I cannot denie, but that their Liuer-slices, and their rashers on the coales, ran still in my head, and were hard things for me to forget.

I did nothing, were it neuer so small a thing, neuer so little, for the which I had not something. All did giue me one thing or other; one a Quaedam moneta Hispa­nica, valoris 9. Marauedis, sic dicta, ab Tarja; [...]. scuti simili­tudine [...], quam habet. A piece of three halfe-pence. Gaming, a heart­full thing. Tarja, which is a matter of pennie halfe-pennie, another a Royall, a third a Doublet, a fourth an old Iacket to couer this poore flesh of mine: I did not goeso like a tattred Rogue as I did before; my meales were sure and certaine; and though I had not had any other thing to sustaine my selfe withall, I might haue liu'd very well vpon the skimmings of the pot, and vpon the triall of my taste, by essaying whether my boild meates were sod enough, and so likewise for my roste, reseruing still mine owne allowance whole and intire, I had no need to touch vpon that that I made profit of. This good did me much hurt, as al­so did my Gaming, which I had learned in my looser daies; For looke what­soeuer I got by meanes of my Place, for that I had no houses to repaire, nor rents to buy in, I plaid it all away. So that I may very well say, My good did me hurt. For, see how much increase it bringeth to the good, (because they know how to turne it to their best benefit;) so it worketh as much hurt in the bad, for (when they fall once a losing what they haue got) they lose a great deale more with it, it being with them, as it is with your venemous beasts; who draw poison from that, from which your Bees sucke honie.

Goodnesse is like vnto your sweet Waters, which if they be kept in cleane Goodnesse, what it is like vnto. Vessels, grow still the better, but in bad, are straightway corrupted, and quite spoiled. I was a learned Doctor in that Science, but yet I consumed my Estate in following that Trade. Within a few daies, I grew a refined Gamester, and could play well with my hands too, I had learned to filch and steale finely, which was the worse Occupation of the two. Gaming, is a terrible vice; All manner of [...]ces are in a Ga [...]ester. And as all Riuers haue recourse vnto the Sea; So is there not that vice, which is not to be found in a Gamester. He neuer does well, and alwaies thinkes ill. He neuer tels truth, but still lies; He hath no man to friend; Hee keepes no good quarter with his Kindred; He esteemes not his credit, but ouerthrow­eth the honour of his house; He leadeth a lewd life; Hee desires the death of his Parents; He sweares without cause; He blasphemes vpon euery little [Page 132] losse. He neither feares God, nor regards his own soule. If he leese his money, he loseth all shame to get it againe, and so he may haue it, hee cares not with what infamy; He liues gaming, and he dyes gaming. In stead of a holy Taper, he holds a pack of Cards in his hand, as one that is resolu'd to lose soule, life, and all that he hath at one dealing. I had very good experience hereof from o­thers, but I speake not that, which was told me by others, but what my selfe saw with mine owne eyes.

When my Vailes would not serue my turne, (that I might not want where­withall to game) I would cast mine eyes, like burning Torches, about the house, where, and out of what I might make my prouision. For those things, that belong'd to the Kitchen, I could make purchase there in the turning of a hand, but euer had a care to doe it so handsomely, and to carry it so cleanely, that they might not haue the least suspition of me in the world. Many things which I stole, I hid in the selfe-same roome, where I found them, with pur­pose, (if they should chance to suspect mee) to pull them out in publike, gaining thereby credit to my selfe for after-times, vpon the like occasion▪ And in case the suspition fell vpon another, I presently tooke hold vpon that ad­uantage; and putting it from my selfe, transferred it on him. Once I remem­ber, A [...] the [...] [...] [...]uz­man. I lighted on a happy encounter, which was this:

My Master on a time brought certaine friends of his home to his house, good-fellowes, sworne brothers to Bacchus, Pylots for Guadalca­na, [...] [...] de la [...] a R [...]uer of recreation. Guadalcana, and Coca, [...] a [...] so called, [...] ▪ [...]rmen are went to make the [...]sh drunke, and to [...] vp their bell [...]es vpon the water, as if they were dead. Coca, and he would needs for sooth in kindnesse bestow a Beuer vpon them, all of them playd well vpon the Keyes of this Organ; the Iacks went vp liue­ly, but my Master he tickled it notably, hee was an excellent Musician vpon a iarre of Wine: he was a braue bottle-banger, a singular tosse-pot. Hee tooke me out of one of the cup-boords of his Ambry (which were euer stored with cold meates) a delicate piece of Bacon finely inter-larded, or (to speake more properly) inter-laced with fat and leane, which look't as fresh and as ruddy, as the bloud of a Lambe, that is newly kill'd. The game growing now hot, and the Vyes seene on all sides, they were all thirty A [...]yenta co [...]-Rey, is the Spanish word, which is a ga [...]e a [...] Cards co [...] amongst them. It is good [...]ing at [...], for [...]are of being out. [...]. A d [...]ken [...]. apiece in Kings, merry, rich, and contented: And with this new Shooing-horne to draw down their drinke, they fell a-fresh to their former play, drinking Healths Helter Skelter, till at last (and my Mistris had her share too, who did mince and gyg it in this round, with as much metall, and as nimbly, as the best dancer of them all) they grew so fine and so mellow, that you might haue stript them (like Rabbets) out of their Cases, and left them starke naked as euer they were borne, and yet they neuer haue knowne who had done them this harme. Their Peeces were ouercharged, the powder strong, the charge too great; so that when the fire tooke them, the smoke and fume thereof flew vp to the highest part of all the chimney, wherewith the whole house was so shaken, that some fell downe f [...]at, others re [...]ed to and fro; some tript both in their tongue & feet; other were full of their gamboll-tricks, each man hauing his seuerall Posture.

My Master & my Mistresse (as one of the neighbours told me) scrambled (as well as they could) to bed▪ leauing all the doores of the house open, the Table vn-taken away, and the siluer Gobblet, wherein they drunke their Healths, tumbled downe on the ground, all which made much for the benefit of the Inuentorie.

I was by chance at that time in my Masters Kitchen, scowring of the Panns and th [...] [...]pits, pyling vp the wood, laying it handsomely together, and doing other things belonging to my office. When that taske was done, and I had made an end of all my worke, I got me to my lodging, and as I past along, I found all out of order euery thing out of his proper place, all the doores open; the Cup that was falne downe on the floore, I fortunately stumbled on; it si­lently seeming to intreat me, that I would doe it the courtesie to take it vp. I stooped downe vnto it, to doe it that friendly office, looking in the meane [Page 133] while round about me, to see whether any mans eye were vpon mee, to spy what I was a doing; but when I saw the coast was cleere, that there was not any body liuing there-abouts, so that no man could detect me, I put it vp, and softly stole away. But I had scarce gone foure steps from the place, when my heart began to beat a false alarme.

Then [...] began to thinke with my selfe, whether I had heard any noise stir­ring either within or without the house, for I could not be too secure, and it did much concerne me, to haue a care to keepe my skinne whole, and not to indanger the losing of much, for the gaining of a little, and so in the end get a whipping by the bargaine. I got me in, I called twice or thrice vpon this, then that man, but not a word of answere that I had from any of them.

I went to my Masters bed-chamber, where I found him and his Wife in that case, that they seemed to be dead, and sure they were little better, for they were deepely buried in Wine.

The snores and snorts that came from them, and other the like puffings and blowings, which they breathed forth, made me to imagine, that I had beene newly entred into some famous drinking-schoole. I had a great mind to haue bound them with some whip-cord by the feet to the bed-post, and to haue playd the knaue with them in that manner, to haue made a little sport with them. But I did not like so well of that iest, a greater businesse was now in hand, and I thought it the better iest of the two, to content my selfe vvith that siluer piece of Plate: Whereupon, I made safe worke with that. And hauing now secured this theft, away went I back againe to the Kitchen, where I found worke inough to doe till it was night, about which time my Master came thither, terribly pained in his belly, & his temples. And finding there but one only fire-brand lying on the Harth, he would needs cudgell my coat there­with, scolding & railing at me, telling me that I wasted too much wood, and that I would neuer leaue, till I had fired his house. That night, was not a night of profit; it was worth nothing vnto me; yet I supply'd (as well as I could) what was wanting, and couering my Masters defect, supper was made readie, and orderly serued in, which being ended, and all things done that should be done, we went to bed. But I found my Mistris in an ill taking, her countenance sad and heauy; her eyes cast downe to the ground, and full of teares, her heart swolne with griefe, all was out of tune with her, and not so much as one word, that came from her, till my Master was gone to bed. And then I made bold to aske her, what was the matter that she was so melancholly. She answered, O my Guzmanico▪ (sonne of my soule) a great euill, a great misfortune hath be­falne me, wretched woman that I am, cursed was that houre, wherein I vvas borne, and in an vnlucky time did my mother bring me forth By this time I knew where her shoo did wring her; My pocket was her Pothecaries shop. There lay the rest [...]ratiue: And my good will had been the best Physician, she could haue gotten for her griefe. But all her pittifull complaints, and whatso­euer else might worke compassion, being all put together, could not moue me awhit. For I haue heard say; Let a woman weepe neuer so much, though she should seeme to weepe her heart out, there is no more pitie to be taken of her, then to see a goose goe bare-foote. All her lamentations, her wringing of her hands, and other her demonstrations of her sorrow, could not stirre vp pi­tie in me, or take hold on the least haire of a fellow-kinde of feeling.

But feigning my selfe to be very sensible of her affliction, & that it grieu'd me much to see her so surprized with griefe, I began to comfort her, and to perswade her (al that I could) that her impatience might not force such words from her, as I heard her but now vtter, requesting her, that she would lay o­pen the wound, and tell me what she ayld, and make mee a sharer [...]n this her misery; promising (in all that little, that I was able to do) to doe as much for her, as I would for mine owne Mother. O sonne (quoth she) your Master (in [Page 134] an ill houre) brought hither certaine of his friends to make merry this after­noone, and amongst other things, my siluer Gobblet is wanting, and I know not in the world what to doe. What will thy Master say, or doe, when he shall know it? O he will kill me (sonne of my bowels, mine owne deare child) he will kill me, that is the least he can doe vnto me. And what I pray can he doe more, said I with my selfe? Well, I put on a mourning-face, looke sad, shew­ing how much I was displeased with this roguish dealing, and how much it did vexe me for her sake. And then calling my wits together, I told her, that there was no other way in the world to salue this sore, but that she should be stirring very early in the morning, and get her to the Gold-smiths, and buy another like vnto it, and then tell her Husband, that because the siluer cup was old, and stained with many spots, she had caus'd it to be new burnish't ouer, and made as bright as it was the first day it was bought.

And by this meanes, this cloud, that threatens such a foule storme, will quickly be ouer-blowne, and all be faire weather againe with you.

I offred her withall, that if she wanted money, shee should make shift to take it vp vpon credit, she should haue my allowance and my Vailes, till all was paid, if shee did not finde meanes before of her owne to discharge the debt. She did with a great deale of thankefulnesse entertaine what I had spo­ken, as well for my good counsels, as the speedy remedy. But it seemed vn­to her, that it would bee very vnfitting for her to goe from home, and that all alone, and so early in the morning, fearing lest her Husband might chance to know it, who was very iealous of her, and would thinke, shee had gone a gadding to some worser purpose. Wherevpon, she intreated me of all Loues, euen for Gods sake, that I would goe my selfe to see and I could get such ano­ther as that was; and as for the money, she had inough of her own store to pay for it. This was e'ne as I would haue it, it hit as pat as a pudding to a Fryers mouth, I could not haue wisht it to haue falne out better; for I had already be­gun to deuise and cast with my selfe, to whom, or how I might sell it, and what chapman I might best finde out to buy it of mee; for if they should come to scanne my person, they might easily be induced to beleeue, that I had stolne it.

But this businesse falling out so luckily, and all things sorting so well with me, I went amongst the Gold-smiths, & spake to one of them, that he would make cleane this plate, take out the staines, and beat out the dents, for it had taken some knocks in the fall; I agreed with him for two Royals, for which price he finished his worke, and made it looke as fresh and as new, as if it had beene newly bought out of the shop; I tooke my cup, and carried it home with me to my Mistris, telling her, that I had met with this piece at the puer­tade A place so cal­led [...] Madrid. Guadaxara, and that it amounted in weight to seuen and fifty Roy­als, and for the fashion he would not abate a farthing of eight Royals.

All this seemed to her, as if it had been but one poore Blanke, considering the great desire which she had to be freed from that trouble wherein she was. She told me out the money vpon a table, so that I sold her her owne againe, as if it had not been the same, or that I had beene the man that had stolne it from her. Wherewith she remained contented, and I satisfied. But lightly come, lightly gone: Two incounters carried it cleane away from me.

These petty thefts of wit, I reckned as things of nothing, and occasion taught me the way: These were naturall vnto mee. But those of permission, and of greater moment, I took great care in the managing of them, when need did require: it was a common thing with me, to come neere to the Butchers chopping-blocke, where the portions allotted to euery man for their allow­ance, were cut out and diuided. I did diligently obserue that which passed, I Your Catr [...]rs, your Cookes, and your Butlers, a company of coo­ [...]ening knaues. learned the trick of the finger, the bounding of the ballance, and al the tricks of weighing▪ & many would say, I weigh'd passing well, yet so for mine own ad­uantage, that euery mans part should dayly come short two ounces in weight.

[Page 135] The Despensero, he would answer for himselfe, that the flesh did shrinke and drie away, and though he receiued full weight, and the Scales true, yet there could not choose but be some losse therein, by cutting it out afterwards into so many seuerall pieces for Commons, which might very well take vp a sixt part. Your Despensero, your Cooke, your Butler, your Purueyour, and most of all your Officers, they doe all of them filch and steale, and sticke not to say, it is their Fees, and that it belongs of right vnto them, and this they so openly and impudently maintaine, as if they had the Kings Letters The Spanish word is Esecu­toria. i. el In­strumento y auto de lo de­terminado en juizio, por tres Sententias. Couarruuias. Ver. Esec. Patents to shew for it.

There was neuer yet any Kitchen-boy so foolish or so vnluckie, but that he would make a shift to meet with the giblets of your Geese, your Hens, and your Capons, with the hocks of a gammon of Bacon, your flaps, Kidnies, and fat of the shoulders and loines of Mutton, your Pigs-pettitoes, your Calues­feet, Liuars, Gisards, Sweet-breads, Sauces, Spices, Snow, Wine, Sugar, Oyle, Honie, Candles, Coles, and Wood, not sparing the very Ashes, nor any thing else, (were it Vineger, Mustard, Annis-seede, Carrowaies,) from that which was most necessarie, euen to those of smallest moment, which are daily spent in a great mans house.

When I came thither first, I confesse, there was no man would trust mee farther then he saw me, they had no great confidence of me; but by little and little, I got into credit by degrees, first pleasing this man, then contenting that man, and in fine, being willing to serue them all, in all that I was able: for he must haue a care to please all, that will haue all men to pleasure him. To gaine friends, is a putting forth of money to Interest, and the sowing of He must doe, that will receiue a pleasure. Friends and [...]oes, how to be kept, or auoyded. seed in a fruitfull soyle. A man ought to venture his life, for the keeping of a friend, and the spending of his wealth, for the vn-procuring of an enemie. For such a one is a Sentinell, that sees with a hundred eies; hee is like a Dra­gon, that stands vpon the Tower of his malice, to looke into our actions from afarre, and to watch vs a mischiefe, if we doe amisse. It importeth much, not to haue an enemie, and he that hath, let him carrie himselfe so towards him, as though he were by and by readie to become his friend.

Wouldst thou know who this is? Behold his name, and thou shalt finde How a man should behaue himselfe towards his enemie. him to be all one with the Deuill, our mortall enemy, and both of them, to be one, and the selfe-same thing. Doe thou sowe good workes, and thou shalt reape the fruit of them. For the first (whosoeuer hee were) that did a benefit, wrought chaines therewith to imprison noble spirits, and to binde their hearts vnto him in the bonds of loue. In those things, wherein I might put my selfe forward, I was neuer slothfull; I did neuer giue way to any iust complaints to come against mee; nor was I euer giuen to faction, or to the raising of calumnies and euill reports vpon any; I did abhorre all colours of this nature, and aboue all, your scandalous and offensiue persons, whom wee Scandalous per­sons, what they are like vnto? properly compare vnto Sponges, who what they sucke in one place, haue it wrung from them in another, if they doe not drop it out of themselues, which is too vsuall with them. Such men as these, see thou trust them not, shunne their fellowship, abhorre their company, though thou wert sure to get by them. For in the end, thou shalt sit downe with losse, and shame enough.

A priuate house cannot suffer a greater calamitie; nor a Common-wealth a more contagious pestilence, then these make-bates, these sowers of discord, these Court-chamblets, that are sprinkled ouer with holy water, whose glosse of words makes a very faire shew, but vnder that print (which is quickly gone) lies the deuill, and his foule deeds.

It was euer-more my chiefe studie, to haue peace with all men, because it is the daughter of Humilitie; And the humble minded man, that loueth Peace, the daugh­ter of Humilitie. peace, loueth, and is beloued of the Author thereof, which is God: if ill company had not done me harme, I had begun well, and gone on better; I [Page 136] had had wherewith-all to eate, to drinke, to laugh, and to bee merry, and might haue passed this carreere of my life with a great deale of content. Many times (when I had ended my businesse) I would take a nap in the sweetnesse of that Sunne, which shew'd it selfe after dinner, and some-times I made my sleepes by Moone-shine, remaining in the view of that faire light vntill the morning.

But when there was nothing to be done at home, your Lackies and Pages of the Court, being a company of Crack-ropes and notable Wags, would make The Pages wag­gery with Guz­man. me free of the frying-Pan, fright me with Snakes, hang on my back, & weigh me downe, crying, More sackes to the Mill; If by chance they found me a­sleepe, then would they clap a Flie made of Waxe vpon the instep of my shoo, and letting it burne there, till shoo and skinne were both scorched, and when I began to stir and stretch, then would their knauery breake forth, & cry, Fire, fire, fire. Other-while they would roll vp a Carde, or a piece of Paper, Tunnel-wise, & then setting it a fire, (blowing out the flame) they would put it directly vnder my nose, till the pillars of smoake that ascended to my no­strils, had not only awak'd me, but almost choakt me. I remember they vs'd me so once in this manner, that I knew not in the world where I was, whe­thersleeping, waking, standing or sitting; I was eene mad, I had lost my wits amongst them; and if I had not beene held fast, I had falne against one of the corner stones of the house, and dasht out my braines in a thousand pieces: yet I tooke all patiently, neuer opened my mouth against them, pocketting these and many other the like wrongs, which I passed ouer.

All which I did, that by correcting my selfe, I might conserue my selfe: choosing rather to kill my choller, then choller should kill me. Que el que todo lo quiere Vengar, prestò quiere acc. bar. Hee that will reuenge all wrongs, Prouerb. shall sooner end himselfe, then them. Larga se deueder à mucho, si no se quiere viuir poco. The man, that would liue long, must not be too short. This cut­tednesse, hath cut off many a mans life before his time. But by slighting of iniuries, and letting them quietly goe by, he that does them, growes in the end both wearie, and ashamed; Whereas if thou shouldst risent them, and take them to heart, they would neuer leaue persecuting thee, but be vexing thee still more and more. For mine owne part, if I should haue complain'd of these Wags, or but made any stirre in the businesse, I am sure they would haue made an Anatomie of me. I (poore Scullion) must haue turned Skellidon; There had beene no other way with me. Sometimes, to make triall of mee, they would lay baits for me, putting money in some such place, where I could not choose but finde it; and then would they watch me, to see, whether I were light-fingerd or no, and had, the art of taking vp, and were in the number of those that still take vp, and ne're lay downe? But because I knew their mea­ning, and had found out the tricke, that they would faine put vpon mee; I Prouerb. said with my selfe, It will not serue your turne, A otro perro, con esse huesso; I am too craftie a curre, to be taken with this bone; you must throw it out to some other dogge, you shall doe no good with it on mee: you haue mist your marke (my Masters) you haue leapt a little too short. you shall not goe beyond mee, nor shall you make your selues merry with my miseries, nor make merchan­dize of my credit, nor furnish your Almoneda, is an open sale at an Out- [...]ne. Guzmans craft to pr [...]serue his credit. Almoneda with my infamies. There­fore, it should rest there for me; till he that had laid it there, should come himselfe and fetch it away. Still hauing an eie, that another should not take it thence, lest afterwards it might be said, I was the man that did it.

Otherwhiles I would take it vp my selfe, and come and bring it to my Master and giue it him; hauing alwaies a great care to keepe my wounds cleane, and like a good Fencer, to come fairely off, without the least Vennie or touch in the world: For to giue another man a cut in the legge, or a slash on the arme, and to receiue a home-thrust, and full Stocada in his owne bo­some, [Page 137] shewes himselfe to bee but a foole in his Science. I filcht and stole whatsoeuer came in my way, but still carried it so cunningly, that no man could haue cause to suspect me.

For those things that appertained to my charge, I was wonderfull prompt Guzmans dili­gence in doing his Office. and diligent, albeit my Master had beene carelesse in willing me to doe this, or that; And when there was any worke to be done, I neuer stood looking, when my Master would bid me goe about it; I would saue him that labour. I was the formost of all my fellowes, when Birds were brought in, to fall to plucking of their feathers, to scowre the Spits, to make cleane the Vessell, to sweepe the house, to make, and blow the fire, without saying to another, Doe it you. For I did consider with my selfe; that seeing I was not to take my pleasure; nor to stand like a Loyterer, with my thumbes vnder my girdle; one was as much trouble to me as the other; And me thought, it was a fine kinde of deceiuing of the time; to doe that by faire meanes, which I must otherwise haue done perforce. And this made me indifferent (so as I were a doing) whether it were this worke, or that worke, all was one to me, since first or last, it must be done by one of vs.

I did euermore doe my vttermost indeuour, as farre as my abilitie and knowledge would lead me, reseruing alwaies the Decorum due to my Office. I was euer in Action; I had scarce made an end of pulling my Birds, but I presently runne me to the Morter, and fall a pounding of Sawces, some for my Boyld meates, some for my Roast; all my Iron Vtensels about the Kitchin, as Spits, Andiornes, Tongs, Fire-shouell, Pot-hookes, and the like, I kept so neat and so cleere, that they lookt like so many Sword-blades, whereon the Cuttlers hand had set a delicate Glasse; my Pots and my Pans, why you might haue wiped them with a Cloake of Veluet; my Skimmers, my Ladles, and my flesh-Hookes, were (like Barbers Looking-glasses) curiously kept in their Cases, and hung vp vpon seuerall Nailes, as all things else that were of vse, had their peculiar places appointed for them, that they might be ready still at hand, when need should serue, without being driuen to seeke for one thing in one corner, and another in another, bearing still in my minde, how and where I had plast them.

In a word, euery thing had it's deputed place, with much diligence, and very good order. At my spare houres, when I had nothing to doe (which were likely in the Euening,) for then I was vsually most at leisure; the Officers of the house would giue me their The Spanish word is Percan­ces. i. Quic­quid acquiri­tur à seruis praeter Salari­um. Dict: à perquirendo. Your Officers in great houses challenge their Fees, as a Tri­bute due vnto them. How the Cookes licke their owne fingers. Vailes, that I might goe abroad, and sell them for them. I went with them to the Gate that belongs to the Shambles, which was our set place for that businesse, whither came such to buy, as had need thereof; Sometimes that which I brought, was good; sometimes so so; and at other times, stinking and starke naught. And all did arise out of that, which they call Prouechos y Derechos, Fees, and Duties, which is two, out of euery ten: a great deale better paiment I am sure, then that of the Almoxari­fasgo, comes of Almozarife; i. Exactor portoriorum. He that takes vp all the Kings rents vpon all merchandize, either imported, or exported. It is an Arabicke word, and signifies an Officer, that recouers all Rights and Duties, belonging to the King, bee it vpon Customes, Tenths, or payment of Rents: Father Guadix saies, this name by corruption, is borrowed from Al-Muxiuph, that is to say, a Teller, a Changer, a Banker, a Renter. Diego de Vrrea, That in it's Arabicke termination, it is tear [...]ed Muxerifun, of the Verbe Xerefe, which signifies to see, to discouer. And so Almoxarife may be taken for a Seer or Discouerer. And the reason of it is, for that he sees and discouers all the Merchandize that passeth to and fro, to recouer what is due to the King, and to [...] the other passe free. This in ancient time, was a generall name to all Treas [...]rers, till the daies of King Alonso II. Who disc [...]rded it, because it was Mo [...]ish, and changed the Title into Tesorero generall. [...]. Lord high Treasurer. [...]. Al­moxarifasgo of Seuilla; Seldome or neuer were wanting vnto vs the Me­nudillos or entrailes of your Birds, the mammocks of Veale, Partridges and Hens, which were spoiled or lost in the spitting or the roasting, or had clung in the boiling to the Pots side, or falne in sunder by being ouer-sod; in the stripping and vncasing of Rabbets and Conies, and the Lard bestow'd vpon them, being bordered about, and imbroydered as it were with Bacon, like [Page 138] vnto one of your Gabardines of Sayago, scarce leauing so much white as the bredth of my naile, through which their larding-Needles had not past. There were some other commodities, which being kept too long, before they came to be sold, beganne to stinke; these they had a tricke to disguise in that handsome manner, that they should seeme to be fresh and sweet. Euery one did set forth his own ware, as well as he could. I sold likewise Neats-tongues, Hogs-cheeks, powdred pessels of Porke, English Pasties of Venison, and pieces of Bacon, three fingers thicke of fat. Behold, what vndue duties, what vn­profitable profits, and what hurtfull and vngaineful gaines these were; things able to vndoe a Noble man, to make him waste his Wealth, morgage his Lands, and sell his Vassals.

I pity ye (poore Lords, ye Gentlemen that keep good Houses) who either can not, or know not, (or to speake truely) will not consume this Locust, this Ca­terpiller, by destroying so harmfull a moth. And thrice vnhappy they, who for ostentations sake, will offer to throw the Barre, with those that are able to out-fling them, and striue in a brauery to ouer-doe their strength, vvhich may cause a spraine, if not a Rupture in their Estates.

The The Spanish word is, Gana­pan, quasi ga­nar el pan. Acquirere pa­nem & victum sudore faciej. The condition of of a King, what it is, in compari­son of other men. Porter, as well as the Trades-man; the Trades-man, as the Mer­chant; the Merchant, as the Gentleman; the Gentleman, as the Knight; the Knight, as a Grande; and the Grande, as a King; all desire to bee in-throaned, and to out-strip one another, by liuing aboue their compasse, and spending be­yond their means. But in troth, the Office of a King, that is no good Place, there is no sport in it, no mirth no iollity. For a King neither sleepeth so soundly, nor resteth so quietly as the poore Porter doth; neither doth hee eate his meat with that merry heart and free from all care, as doth the Trades-man. The care of one Crowne afflicts him more, then that of many doth the Merchant. He is troubled more in making prouision for his Armies, then a Gentleman in preparing his Armes: Nor is there any Knight or Titulado so much impaw­ned, or so deepely in debt, but that his King is much more: Nor any Grande so great, but that the troubles and griefes which attend a King, are farre grea­ter. He must keepe watch and ward, when others securely sleepe. His eyes (like your shops on worky-dayes) must be still open, that those of his Subiects may be shut vp, and keepe Holy-day. And therefore the Egyptians, when they would Hieroglyffe a King, and by some mystical Cyphers, expresse his vi­gilancy; A vigilant King, how depainted by the Egyptians. they did put a Scepter in his hand, with an eye on the top of it. Hee trauels hard, when all others take their ease and laugh; for he is both Coach, and Coach-man. He sighs, and groanes, when others, sport, and play; yet few are they, that take pitie of him, or are sensible of his sorrowes, vnlesse it be for The wretched estate of a King. their owne priuate interest. Whereas indeed, onely for his owne sake, and for that generall care that he hath of all, he ought of all, to be both loued, feared, and respected.

Few informe him of the truth, for feare of drawing hatred vpō themselues: Few, if he be in an errour, will seeke to put him out of it, and they know well inough, why, and wherefore they let him alone, and suffer him to goe on in't; and so doe we too: Onely forsooth to put themselues forward, and that they may come to mount and soare the higher, and the sooner, though it bee with waxen wings, and must in the end, like Icarus, come tumbling downe, and fall into the Sea, where they, and their fortunes, are to sinke for euer, neuer to be seene more.

But what doe I talke of these transcendencies? I diuine nothing. They are things out of my element, and therefore I will let them alone. It is mens foo­lishnesse, and their want of iudgement and discretion (as I told you before) that leades them thus along (deceiued with these vanities) to their destructi­on The miserable condition of your great Lords and Gentlemen. and of all other, most miserable are your great Lords, & other Noble Gen­tlemen, who spending where they need not, fall into need themselues. For [Page 139] euen small and slight expences, vsed often & too abundantly, consume the sub­stance, their feathers begin to faile them, they fall away by one and by one; heere lose a principall, there a Sarcell, and so in the rest: so that (hauing ne­uer a sound feather left, neither in wing, or traine, wherewith to maintaine their flight:) they are called Pelones, or Pelados, peel'd Gentlemen, that haue had their Plumes pluckt. Whereupon they are forced to retire themselues home into the Country, to liue vpon some poore Farme or other, where they must spend their time in breeding of Cattel, as Pigs, Hens, and Chickens, and the like, reckoning the Egges that are dayly laid, making account there­of, as of his chiefest liuing.

Hence therefore I set downe this as a ruled Case; That if a rich man will Profitable lessons both for rich and poore. gouerne himselfe, he shall neuer be poore. And if a poore man will be thriuing, he shall quickly be rich. Both of them applying themselues in all things, ac­cording to the time, and as they see occasion. For it is not alwayes fit for a Gentleman to saue; nor for a poore man to spend. There are entertainments to be had, but such as are rather to be had for intertainment then vndoing.

Vpon occasion, euery man ought to shew himselfe, like himselfe, according to the meanes that God hath giuen him. For to this end hath hee bestowed these his blessings vpon him. But not that all men should walke cheeke by ioule, foote by foote, side by side one with another, as if they were all fel­lowes, and no difference of Estates, or Persons.

If a Noble man shall be a great spender, let a meaner Gentleman hold his hand, and let him not be-foole himselfe, to thinke, that hee can doe as much with three, as the other with thirty He doth not consider that these are abor­tiue births; and things that are out of their naturall course: whereby he be­comes a by-word, and laughing stocke among the people: and his wealth be­ing wasted, turnes begger, and mewes himselfe vp in a corner, and dares not be seene. That man doth not vnderstand, (who is not of good ability) that he does ill; to seeme to be a Cocke, before hee be out of the shell, and to stretch out his throat, as if he would ouer-crow all the world. If hee be a Rauen, and can but croke at the best, why will he offer to sing and put forth his voice? Or why, when some Flatterer shall tell him that hee hath an excellent ayre, and sings exceeding sweetly: doth he not perceiue that he onely commends him, to make him (as it is in the Fable) let fall his Cheese, and then laugh at him when he ha's done? The selfe-same Lesson I reade to all, that euery man would learne to know himselfe: let him try the temper of his Steele, and let him not goe about to fyle iron with a fyle of wood, lest hee finde it lost labour. And when he heares a man murmure at another, let him shut the doore, lest ano­ther may murmure at him.

It is fit, that wee should all sleepe vpon on foote (as the Crane doth) when Good [...] M [...]jer of a [...] our wealth, (which is the life of this world) lyes vpon it: casting about (now that all is gone) how we may doe, that we may not be driuen to steale. For to let things runne to waste, is not liberalitie, but loosenesse. And with that (a) The Spa s [...] [...] man of his [...] gre [...] that Prou [...]e▪ Tre [...] al Mo­hino. which thy Catrer, thy Cooke, and thy Despensero, shall steale from thee, and neuer thanke thee; (for these are your onely three (b) Cheaters,) thou maist reward halfe a doozen of thy other Seruants.

But I speake no more of their theft, then others waste; for they will all steale, all filch (ne're a barrell better Herring) looke what is vnder their charge, they will be sure to nimme somewhat out of it. One a little, and ano­ther a little: and many a little makes a mickle. So that what with a little, and what with a mickle, it mounts to so much in the end, and makes such a deepe hole in thy mayne estate, that thou art much may med by it, if not wholly swal­lowed vp, and vtterly sunke.

And heere I must not sticke to tell the Masters themselues, That a great part of this fault is theirs; for that Seruants wages (vsually) are too short, and [Page 140] ill payd. For, if they be serued by men, that are in necessitie, and constrained by want, they shall finde few of them faithfull. Thou wilt not sticke some­times in a humour, to play away at one rest, all thy whole yeares Reuenues. This is naught, giue it ouer. Pay thy seruants well, vse them with courtesie, and speake kindly vnto them; for the rewarding and recompencing of ser­uices, makes the Master to be esteemed, and respected, according to his worth and qualitie, and incourageth the poore seruant, (by requiting him for his paines,) to serue him the better, and with the more alacritie. There are some Masters, that will not bestow a Royall on the best seruant they haue, thinking it inough, that they haue onely their bare wages, and that in giuing them that and their dyet, they are very well paid.

No (my Masters) this may not serue your turne, it stand's not with reason to Reasons, in sa­uour of ser [...]. [...]. doe no more; for this is but their due, and deserues but little, or no thankes at all. But by giuing that, which is not their due, thou bindest them to doe more then their due, and winnest them to serue thee with the greater loue. Whereas, if thou (being a Master) shalt not inlarge thy hand, and bee better vnto him, then the bare bargaine that is driuen betweene yee, it is no great maruell, if thy seruant hold backe, and steppe not a foot farther then those bounds, wherevnto his Couenant binds him:

As it hapned to a cowardly Gentleman, who (presuming too much on his A Tale of a mi­serly Gentleman. wealth, and the greatnesse of his meanes) fell at odds with another Gentle­man that was very valiant; and finding himselfe farre inferiour vnto him, both in strength and in courage, was willing to intertaine a proper young fellow, of good metall, and approued Valour, to wait vpon his person.

Now it hapned, that this Enemy setting one day vpon him, this his seruant drew in his defence, and behau'd himselfe so well, that he made his Aduersarie retire with dishonour, and held him play so long, till his Master was quite out of danger.

In this fray, the Yong man lost his Cloake, and the scabberd of his Sword. When all was past, and this fray (where of I told you) fully ended, my honest Seruing-man gets him home, but his vnthankefull Master did neither make good this his losse, nor returne him any requitall in the world. It was this Gentlemans hap afterwards, to meet with his Master againe, and hauing a good Cudgell in his hand, he affronted him, and gaue him the Bastanado vpon the former quarrell: his seruant all the while stood still, and was content to be a looker on, while the other did beat him. His Master cryde out vnto him, that he should come in and helpe him. Your Worship (quoth his man) did agree with me to pay me my wages monethly, and I did couenant with you, to wait vpon you for it.

And for ought I know, neither of vs both are bound to any more. So that if thou mindest that they should strain themselues for thee, and do those things, that may aduance thy seruice; with that which thou so dissolutely losest, and vainely and idly throwest away, gaine their good-wils, and thou shalt gaine this thereby, that they will not rob thee of thy wealth; that they defend thy Person, illustrate thy Fame, and desire [...]y life. O how often haue I seene them carry away, and carried away my selfe, whole tartes of Manjar Alba, qu [...] ­dam es [...]a, His­panis in vsu. A meate made of the brest of an Hen, Milke, Su­gar, Rice, bea [...]en, and all mixed to­gether. One of the dai [...]tiest d shes they haue in Spaine. This Manjar Blanco, was anciently eat [...]n in Princes Courts, and Noble mens Houses, but now pub [...]kely sold i [...] the open Market. Blanco, Pigs, Pidgeons, Stock-Doues, Cheeses of a hundred sundry sorts, and other infinit things to fell, which are too tedious to relate, and I feare me, both time, and memory would faile mee, if I should goe about to recou [...] them vnto thee! Onely I will tell thee, that these disorders, beeing a generall disease, whereof all of them were sicke, infected me also, and made mee be­come as bad as the best of them. I liu'd amongst a company of Wolues, and I learned of them to howle, and deuoure Lambes, as they did. I was a reaso­nable good Scholler for my time albeit in a different kinde of learning, but at last, I lost all feare: I had learned now to swimme without Bladders; I was [Page 141] slush enough now to forsake the nest; all did game and sweare, all did steale and () lurch, and I did, as I saw others doe before mee. From small begin­nings, (a) The Span [...]sh word is Sisar. Now Sisar, is to take out of that which is bought, or spent, some small part: As out of a [...]ixt part, one. And there­fore it ought to be rather S [...]isar, then Sisar, of the Hebrew word Sisah, Sextare, or to take out a sixt part. great matters arise.

I began (as I told you before) to play a little, to lurch a little, and to steale a little; But at length, I began to inlarge my strides like little children, when they haue beene taught awhile to goe alone. I was now perfect in my pace, and had the tricke to make one in the hundred. I no more held it ill (to such passe was my innocencie come) but as a thing lawfull, and to bee permitted, I bought there with some few necessaries, that I stood in need of; the rest I threw away at play; for in my gaming. I alwaies made choice of those games that were the most vertuous, either in Dice, The Spa [...]sh word [...], are Bu­eltos, y Ca [...]e­ta: Games much vsed amongst the Spaniards. or Cardes, such as were the nimblest to ridd a man of his money, that I might make an end of it quickly, and get me home to execute mine Office.

I once remember, that contesting about a Chance with other young Lads about my pitch, we were so loud, in one of the Courts of the house where we plaid, that with the no [...]se thereof, you would haue thought, the whole house would haue falne downe about our cares. Our Master spake to the Vsher of the Hall, that he would goe see what the matter was; who found vs together by the eares, which made the fault the greater. And (exceeding his Commis­sion) he basted our shoulders with Cudgell-deaw, making the dust flie out of our Coates, till he had beaten our bodies all blacke and blue; The markes whereof appeared afterwards, when we came to put off our Shirts; which likewise occasioned the losse of my credit amongst them; For, from that time forward, they had an eie still ouer me; and lookt a little more narrowly into my water. And this was it, that gaue the first beginning to my vtter vndo­ing, as by and by I shall more plainely deliuer vnto you.

CHAPTER VI.

THat man is much to be commended, who knowes to gaine by his labours: But much more ought hee to be esteemed, who by his vertue knowes how to keepe that which he hath gotten. I did striue all I could to please euery body, albeit the ill custome of my former lewd life, did now and then lead me awry; so that whatsoeuer I did, was like forced earth, that fell in short time to it's old leuell, and being all but counterfeite stuffe, were but Ap [...]h imitations, contrarie to mine owne nature, and that bent, whereunto I had beene vsed. For that Glory that is falsely gotten, indureth but a while, it is not permanent, but quickly passeth away; I was like vnto a drop of Oyle, that falls vpon a garment, which Si fresca no para [...]e, breuemente se des [...]ubre Prouerb. [...]; If it be not presently perceiu'd, and taken off in time, discouers it selfe, and goes increasing. Now, they would no longer trust me. One would call me, Ceda [...]illo nueuo, the new little Siue, or the youth of three daies standing; For as your new married Wiues, that buy a little Siue, to straine their Wine, or any other liquor, for some few daies, are very carefull of it, hang it vp vpon a Naile, or some woodden Pin, but anon after thinke no more of it, and let it lie tumbling on the ground; so is it with your new seruants: [Page 142] you shall haue them at the first very diligent and carefull, and like new Broomes, sweepe all cleane, but after a while they grow negligent and lazie, and are wearie of well doing. Another would c [...]ll me La Gata de Uenus, one of Uenus Cats; A craftie knaue from the Cradle. But they were all deceiued; For I was naturally good, and in mine owne disposition, I neither had read nor knew so much; but I depraued this good nature of mine, and did ill dispose of it. Vice and want altred this my good inclination, and made me otherwise then I would haue beene. And what knauery I had in me, I learnt it of the Officers there, and other the seruants of the house. And these are they that I must thanke; for they were the only men that brought mee to it; I was but coorse Sugar, till they refin'd me.

There are some happie theeues, that come to be old men before they die; others are so vnlucky, that for the very first robberie, that euer they commit­ted, haue beene taken in the manner, and presently hanged, without any more adoe. That which in others was but a veniall, was in me, a mortall sinne. And it was fit it should be so, because I did degenerate from what I was, by doing that which I ought not to haue done. I did vndoe my selfe by ill company; Ill companie, i [...] the Author of all mischiefe. which is Vices Ladder, Vertues Hangman; the Wine that makes drunke; the Smoake that choaketh; the Sorceresse that bewitcheth; Marches Sun­shine, a deafe Adder, and an intising Syrene.

When I first began to serue, I applied my selfe to my worke, and sought to please; but afterwards, my ill-acquaintance (bad friends as they were) did sweetly vndoe me. Idlenesse, was a great helpe thereunto, if not the sole cause of all my hurt. For, as vnto him that is well occupied, no Vertue is wanting; Idlenesse, what kinde of thing it is. What euill effects it bringeth forth. so vnto him that is idle, there is no Vice, which is not his Companion. Idle­nesse is the high way to destruction; it is that spacious field, that opens to perdition; it is that Plough, wherewith bad thoughts are sowne; It is the seed of Tares, cast into the ground; it is that Woman-weeder that plucks vp goodnesse by the roots; It is that Sickle, that cuts downe all our good works; It is that Flaile, which thresheth all honour out of vs. It is that Cart, which comes loaden home with mischiefe; and it is that Ba [...]ne, wherein all the Vi­ces in the world are mowed, and stored vp. Mine eie was not set vpon my He that will not doe ill, must looke well into himselfe. selfe, but on others; and looke what I saw them doe, that (me thought) was likewise law full for me: Not considering, that because they were in places of credit, (that were able to beare them out) and being old-beaten soldiers in all manner of theeueries, it might become them well enough to doe as they did; for by this meanes, they were to make themselu [...]s a Fortune, and to this end only doe they seeke to serue good Masters. I was willing to be one of the number, and would faine ranke my selfe amongst them, by doing as they did, being no way their equall, but a poore Picaro, a ragg-taild Rogue, out both of clothes and credit.

But if excuses may preuaile, and that I may say something for my selfe; When I saw that euery man walkt so freely this way, without checke or con­troule; it seemed to me to be the land of The Span [...]sh phrase is, Te [...]a de Xauxa. Permission; and that I might passe vp and downe there as well as they: Being perswaded, (as I told you be­fore) that it was a worke of Vertue, a very good deed, and very iustifiable, how be it afterwards I was beaten from that errour: My thought though was good, but my vnderstanding was amisse: For the Grace and fauour of this Bull, did in especiall words grant the vse and exercise thereof to the elder brothers, that are free of the Incorporation of the Rich and Potent; to those that are Fauorites to the Proud, to the Arrogant, to Flatterers, to those that The Brot [...]erhood of the Rich, what it is. And the euils that it [...]. are neuer without Crocodils teares; to Scorpions, which bite not with the mouth, but sting with the taile; to smooth-tongu'd Parasites, who with sweet words cherish the body, but with sowre workes destroy the soule. These were the men that might doe any thing, all was well done that they [Page 143] did; but in such as my selfe, it was falshood and roguerie, I was in an errour, and together with this my error, I became so dissolute, and liu'd so disorderly, that my disease euen a farre off might easily be discerned: how be it all was not worth a straw, as being things not to be reckoned of, or scarce worthy the talking of. It is a common saying; Que el postrero, que Sabe las desgraçias, es el Marido. That the good man, is the last that knowes, what things are amisse Prouerb. at home.

Of all these my mad prankes, and crosse fortunes that did befall me, scarce one of a thousand came to my Masters eares; Either because being willing (as I was) to please them, and to get their good will, they would not haue my Master to conceiue hardly of me, and so put me away; Or else, because (though now and then they would chide me, and tell me mine owne) seeing all the World was alike, and that it was euery mans Case as well as mine; they did not much wonder at it. But for some negligences of mine, and other things that were too transparent; my Master grew some what angrie with me, and spu [...]'d hard to ouertake me. It so fell out, that he was one day sent for to prepare a Feast for a certaine Prince, that was a stranger, newly come to Court, and carried me along with him, that I might transplant the Onion; that is, take vp all the leauings, Reliques, Vailes, Profits, or Fees, (as the custome is) belonging to his Office.

Wee were no sooner come into the Kitchen, but all our prouision was brought in vnto vs. My Master fell presently to worke; and very nimbly; and with a great deale of dexterity began to chop this, to deuide that, and The fashion of your Cookes, when they are sent for to worke. breake that other thing asunder, putting somethings apart by themselues, o­thers (especially if they were all of a sort) he heaped vp all together, taking the like order in all the rest of those things that appertained vnto him (as a lawfull taxe and due tribute, payable to his place) lest he might, (being busied about many other things) forget his owne right, and confusedly intermixe one thing with another; it being meet and iust, to giue vnto Caesar, that which is Caesars, and that euery man should take possession of his owne, and quietly in­ioy what of right belonged vnto him.

Now, about the shutting in of the Euening, when it began to be darke, my Master willed me to bring the Sackes. I brought them, and fell to filling; which (being well practised therein) I packt vp euery thing that was there, very handsomely, and very speedily. And clapping them on my shoulder at such a time, and in such a manner, that I might not be seene, he made me make foure returnes, in which iournying to and fro, I could hardly fetch my breath, so heauily was I laden. All▪ and euery one of them seemed to me, to be like vnto Noahs Arke. And I doe not know, whether in it there were so many indiuiduall and seuerall Species, or whether God did afterwards create them? Now▪ when I had made an end of this businesse, he will'd me to make a fire, hang ouer the Kettles, see the water seethe, pull Fowle, scald the Chickens, sindge the Capons, scorch the Partridge; in which and the like I bestowed a great part of that night. My Masters Cake (good man) did not bake halfe currantly, the byas did not runne the right way, he was shrewdly out of tune, and much disquieted in his minde; it still running in his head, that his Wife was all alone; and that she could not either well order such a deale of wealth as he had sent her in; or that happely some vnexpected storme might befall him in his absence.

Hereupon, whilst his thoughts were thus troubled, he calls me vnto him, and saies vnto me; Guzmanillo, I prythee hie thee home, and haue a care to that which thou carriedst hence, see that all be safe, nothing lost, open thin [...] What are the Trophees of Cookes, whereof they make their Triumph. eies, and looke about thee. Tell thy Mistresse that I stay here; haue a care to the house, and as soone as it is day, hasten againe vnto me. I did so: I deliuer my message to my Mistresse. I call for Pinn's, and Pack-thread; I plaste them [Page 144] vp aboue in a Gallery, where they hung in a fresh and open ay [...]e. There did I [...]yle vpon strings the Trophees of that Victory. It was a glorious and good­ly sight to see the seuerall plumage, and diuers-coloured feathers of Capons, Partridges, Turtles, Hennes, Peacocks, Thrushes, Veldefares, Pidgeons, Quailes, Chickens, Doues, and Geese. And taking forth from amidst all these the Conies heads, they lookt as if they had come peeping out of their berries. I hung vp in another part of the Gallery Gammons of Bacon, ioynts of Veale, Red Deere, wilde Bore, Mutton, Neats-tongues, Pigs, and Kids.

Thus all the Gallery was hung round with this kinde of Tapistry, vpon very good Nailes & strong Pins, that I had put vp for that purpose. So that I assure thee by the faith of an honest man, according to that faire show that it made there, I had brought home two parts of fiue: nor was this Conquest yet fully ended; for there were yet wanting those seuen These seuen sonnes of [...] were brau [...] [...]r­riours, and con­quered all where they came. And their name is [...] sed by way [...]f Prouerb, when something is wanting yet to be [...]. Infantes de Lara, to make the feast complete. All the rest was very well fitted, and I very vveary, fo [...] had wrought very hard, though little notice vvas taken of it, and my re­quitall lesse.

My Mistris lodged in a lower roome, who like an idle Drone, left all the [...]urthen on my shoulders, and got her to bed. It seemed she had supt vpon salt meat [...]s, for she had her When a [...]an has drun [...]e [...], it is a [...] phrase in Spa [...]ne: Cargò Del [...]n­tero, He [...] charg'd has fore­p [...]ce. fore-head full charged, which was no new thing with her. I, when I had made an end of my worke, did the like, and went to bed. But the weather was so hot, that for a good while I lay scratching, and tossing to and fro, till at last, (though some-what, I confesse, against my will) I let loose the reines, that I might goe softly onward on my way to sleepe. In the end I fell a [...]galloping, that I might the quicklier come to my iourneis end, and take my rest. And lapping my selfe in my Blanket, which God knowes was a sorry one, (for in that Countrey, they doe not vse to allow Sheetes, nor any more saue an old Straw-bed, to such poore boyes as my selfe) I was very carefull to rise betimes, according as my Master had commanded me. When behold, (God blesse me) about three of the Clocke in the morning, it beeing then the time betweene the two Lights, when it was neither night nor day, I heard b [...]rieath in the Court a cruell skirmish amongst the Cats, which were making of a banquet vpon a piece of Poore Iohn, a dry kinde of Fish, which they had drawne out by chance through the Tyles of one of our neighbours houses.

And for that they are naturally of an ill condition, (nor shal you euer know, Cats and old Folkes alike. when they are contented, no more then ye shall, when old men are well plea­sed) you shall neuer see them eate their meat quietly, and without noise, but still purring and growling, though they haue neuer so much. Whether it were, that their Fish was good, and so lik't it too well; or whether it were ouer-salted, and so made them angry, or what a Diuell the matter was, that they differ'd about, I know not: but sure I am, that with the noise of this their Warre, they did awake me, and made mee to listen after them, saying with my selfe, Sure the Diuell is in it, his hand is in this businesse, if the quar­rell that was risen amongst these honest Cats, should fall vpon the true Sobre la capa dei justo. Si dize; quan­do [...]aga [...]l, que no [...] culpa. Couarru [...]ia. verb. justo. mans Cloake, and make him smart for't, that is not in fault: and should quarrell now at this houre, in so vnseasonable a time, about the partition of my goods, and then my bones to pay for the meat that they should eate; making my Master thereby to mis-doubt my care, and so breed a difference betweene vs.

I lay in my bed, as naked as euer I was when I first came from my Mothers wombe: I did not thinke, that any body should haue seene me; I started vp in a trice; and as if the I [...] is [...] s [...]ll i [...] Spaine to h [...]ue the Moores co [...]e in vpon their coasts, and carry away many Captiues. Moores had been come to haue carried away all my kindred Captiues, and this diligence of mine would haue seru'd to set them free. I hye me with all the haste I can, and come running downe the stayres a­maine, that I might bee there in time, and might preuent that mischiefe, which is wont to grow, when succours are too slow.

[Page 145] In a businesse of that importance, I thought all delayes were dange­rous. The ridiculous [...]est that past be­tween Guzman and his Mistris. My Mistresse as shee was gone to bed before mee, so she had got vp before mee. Which shee might the better doe, because shee had no­thing to trouble her head, and had taken foure sound sleepes, was lapt vp warme like the Silke-worme, so that she had no more to doe, but to rub her eyes, and arise. She heard this stirre as well as I, and thought perhaps vvith herselfe (as very well she might) that I was fast asleepe, and did not heare the noise. She, though she vvent to bed in her Smocke, yet as her fashion vvas, she vvould put it off before she slept, and lye all night starke-naked; and so vvas she now, hauing not so much vpon her to couer her nakednesse, as the inheri­tance of her Grannam Eue, neither Smocke, nor any other couering in the world.

And thus starke naked as euer she vvas borne, forgetting through her haste; to clap any thing vpon her body, she came running downe like one out of her wits, with a light in her hand, to saue her goods. Her thought, and mine, iumpt both alike; the broyle equall; the diligence, in cau [...] propria, in a businesse that [...]id neerely concerne vs both; and the noise on either side but little, for wee [...]oth came thither bare-foote.

Now (if it will please you to behold vs) we both of vs meet in the Galle­ry, she strucken with wonder, to see mee there; and I almost frighted out of my wits, in looking on her: She suspected that I was some Phantasma, some Hob-goblin, or wandring Ghost, and letting the light fall out of her hand for feare, she gaue withall a great schriche. And I that was affrighted as much vvith so strange and foule an Apparition, and seeing her to make towards me with a Candle in her hand, I gaue a greater schriche then she, thinking it had been the soule of the Steward of our House, vvho dy'd but some two daies before, and that he vvas come thither to leuell his Accounts vvith my Master. She shrik't out so lowd on the one side, that the neighbors might heare her all ouer the street▪ and mine were so shrill, that they might almost haue bin heard all ouer the Towne. She fled as fast as she could driue to her Chamber, as if the Diuell had been at the tayle of her; I stroue to make as much haste to mine; the Cats they began to fly, and as glad as we to be gone. But to see the ill lucke of it, vpon the very first stayre as I was going vp, I stumbled vpon the Cat of the house, and treading vpon her in the darke, she scratcht me by the legges with her nayles: then did I verily thinke with my selfe, that some Ghost or other followed me at the heeles, and was come to carry me away; and that he was now catching at my soule, and ready to teare it out of my bo­dy: wherewith being scarred, I fell, and brake my shinnes against the stayres, hauing grated off the skinne euen almost to the bone, nor did my nosescape free, that vvas broken as well as the rest. Neither of vs two could vnderstand, or certainly suspect, who the other should be, all did succeed so in an instant, and were both called out, at the sound of one and the same Bell; till that I hauing falne on the ground and she hauing hid herself between her sheetes, we began to know one another by the lamentation and mourning that we made. With this fright that she had taken (if the freshnesse of the morning did not occasion it) my Mistresse retentiue faculty had shrewdly failed her, and the locke of her belly being loose, and the bolts of her breech none of the fastest, her Posterne doore flew wide open, and before she could recouer her Chāber, [...]irted the excrements of her intrailes, part in the Portal, & part in the open Court; that White-pot of hers, being stucke full of Cherry-stones, which it should seeme she had swallowed downe whole. I was a good while, ere I could make all cleane, I swept it, and washt it, and did all that I could to make all handsome againe; for the keeping cleane of the house did properly belong to my charge, as a thing wholly committed to my care.

Then did I begin to know that the Ordure and filthy sauour of such acci­dentall [Page 146] Stooles as these, doe stinke more, and vvorse by farre, then those that are naturall and ordinary with vs. But the cause and reason hereof, I leaue it to the Philosophers to seeke it out: It sufficeth, that it cost me a great deale of labour, to the detriment of my smelling faculty, and the great annoyance of my Nose: and this I dare be bold to make good vnto you out of mine owne experience.

My Mistresse vvas much ashamed of this foule accident, and I more: for albeit I did vvrite man, yet I was but a young Lad to speake of, and a meere child in the knowledge of these things; I was as modest, as any Maid of them all, and as tender-stomak't; and had I beene more man then I was, I should haue been ashamed for her shame, and haue blusht, if not for mine owne, yet for her sake. It did grieue me very much, that I had seene her in this manner, as I haue told you; for as I liue, I would not willingly for all the world haue lighted vpon such an vncouth casualty as this was: But (doe all that I could) she could neuer be perswaded, but it was my knauery, and my roguery, and that I did it of purpose; nor all the oathes that I vsed vnto her, could make her to alter her minde, reduce her to reason, make her capable how and by what meanes this hapned, or giue her any the least assurance of my inno­cencie.

From that day forward, I vtterly lost her good-will; and I knew so much afterwards by a neighbour of hers; whom shee acquainted with all that had hapned. For that which did trouble her most, and did euen vexe her to the heart, was, not for my finding of her naked, and vn-array'd; but because she had beray'd her selfe. As for all the rest shee did not care a pin; for most women desire nothing more, especially those that haue a good opinion of themselues, haue consulted with the cleerenesse of their skinnes, and are priuy to their owne perfections.

When I saw that nothing would serue the turne, and that neither perswa­sions, nor protestations would perswade with her; I tooke it for an ill signe, and beganne to thinke with my selfe, that some false witnesse or other would bee raised vp against mee, to cast mee out of doores, putting her Husband into an euill opinion of me, as if this (poore innocent soule as I was) had been meerely my fault. Neuer did she looke straight vpon me afterwards, nor euer exchanged word with me, good or bad.

When it was broad day, backe went I to my Mill againe, as I was com­manded▪ that I might fall there afresh to my drudgery. But vvhen I came to my Master, not a word of what had past. I was Mum-budget, and durst not open my lips to him (for my life) in that businesse. He askt me vvhe­ther all those things were safe at home? and vvhether I had set them hand­somely in order? I told him, all vvas vvell, and well ordred. Hee imploy'd me in some things. And I can assure you, that my Master & his Companions, and I and mine, such as were helpers, and wrought there for him, had more ado [...], to gather together, and hide what he had stolne, then we had in the dres­sing and seasoning of all the rest of our meates. And how was it possible, that it should be otherwise, where there vvas no order taken, no agreement made, no account to be call'd vnto? What did not we call for vvithout controule; what vvas not giuen vs vvithout grudging; what did vve not receiue with a great deale of glory; how little vvas spent, and how much was stolne? Su­gar vvas demanded for our Tarts; and for our Tarts, Sugar. So as we had for euery thing twice or thrice ouer. These kinde of banquets, wee termed Iu­bilees; because the waters vvere troubled, and there were store of Fish to be taken. The poison vvas throwne in, and they began to float.

This made me to thinke, seeing (as the common phrase is) that this Pan demi compadre [...]l ducl [...] ageno. vvas my Gossips bread, but at other folkes cost; that my fore-teeth were no lesse able then other mens, to gaine this Indulgence. For I likewise had a Soule in [Page 147] my body, as well as the best of them; I wanted not a iot of any thing▪ that should make me a man; My Armour was not without it's Riuets, to buckle all close. And if I had a minde to the Crums that were falne vnder the Table, (yet so, as not to seeke, to make my selfe equall to my fellowes, or to enter into comparison with them) it might (me thought) be lawfull for me, to make some profit of other mens liberalitie, and though I were no Gamester, yet I might receiue Barato, is that m [...]ny, which at play a man takes out of his heape, when [...]e winnes, and giues it to this or that s [...]ander by, that he may wish him good lucke. Giuing lesse, or more, as their hand is good, or their game great or small. Prou. Barato, as a stander by. I waxed wearie with pulling Fowle, blanching of Almonds, and the kernels of Pine-apples, with proui­ding of scalding waters, and other things: I had then on at that time, an old Shi [...]t, and a Doublet that was all torne.

Amongst other things that came to my Masters share, was a Pannier of Eggs; I made thither, and tooke out a good companie of them, some few of them I clapt in my bosome, betwixt my body and my shirt, the rest I thrust into my Pockets, and the linings of my Breeches. Now you see, I laid my hand vpon that which wrought my woe. But (to speake the truth) I did not doe this so much for mine owne priuate interest, but that I might say another day (if I list) that I kist the Bride; and that it might not be said, that shee came forth a Maid: Or that it should be tit in my teeth; that I had beene at the Court, and not seene the King. The craftie Rogue my Master had found me out; and that he might sanctifie himselfe by my sinne, and iustifie his honestie by my theft, the Mayor-Domo being present, and other principall seruants of the house, when I was about to goe forth to put this poore purchase of mine in some safe place out of sight, he fell vpon me like a Lyon, and laying hold on my Coller, he began to play Rex with me, taking me to Coramnobis, haling Guzman s [...]eales Eggs, and is ta­ken in th [...] [...]ner. me by the haire of the head, and treading me vnder his feet.

You may very well imagine, how well conditioned this Merchandize was like to come home, being with his beating of me, he had broke them all to pieces, making both the Whites and the Yolkes, thus batterd both together to drop out at my knees. I could not but say to my selfe; Sure, some Poul­terers Planet doth pursue me, & my Choller had almost mou'd me to speake it out aloud. But ô (thou notorious theefe) how canst thou haue thy house hang'd with that, which thou stol'st, and I carried away, and yet keepe such a coile, and make such a deale of doe, for halfe a doozen paltrie eggs that thou foundst about me? Doest thou not see, that thou wrongest thy selfe, in wronging of me? But I thought it my best course, to hold my peace. For, in iniuries, the best remedie is to neglect them. It did grieue me so much the more, that my Master should vse me thus hardly; had it beene done by a stranger, or so I could better haue borne it. But I must be contented with my hard fortune; I saw I was to suffer, and therefore I past it ouer without any alteration of countenance, or replying otherwise vnto him, then by lifting vp mine eies vnto heauen, which were brimme full of teares, and ready to runne ouer.

Now the heate and furie of the Feast was past, and we were going home; but as we were vpon the way, my Master said vnto me, What I shall now tell thee (Guzmanillo) hearken vnto it, and weigh it well, it is worth the noting; That beating which I bestowed on thee to day, did concerne me more then F [...]ire words and large promises, pacific anger. thou art aware: I know I had no reason to vse thee as I did; but to morrow, I will giue thee a new paire of shooes, which shall be better worth to thee, then thy eggs would haue beene. This was welcome newes, and pleas'd me very well; for those I then wore were old, and all to fitters. But I shrewdly suspect, that my Mistresse, after we were come home, had made her complaint vnto him, and spoken some ill language of me; for from that time that wee entred in adoores, my Master did euer after cast such a sowre looke vpon me, as if he had beene newly tasting of Wine-vineger, so sharp a countenance did hee set vpon me; so that now we heare no more words of our new shooes, they are forgot, and I must be content to goe without them. When I saw hee [Page 148] lookt awry vpon me, and that I found his fauour to bee with-drawne from me; I sought to remoue all rubs, and to giue him all the content I could, ser­uing him with more care then euer; without committing any the least of­fence, or being wanting in any thing that belonged to the businesses of the Kitchin; I was not faultie in an hayre, because he should haue no iust cause against me.

Vpon a Festiuall day, (as our fashion was) we had made certaine Pies and Pasties, some of one sort, some of another; whereof there was some (though not very much) of the Paste left; And the Munday following, was the Run­ning of the Bulls. In the dust-Basket, amongst other refuse-things out of the sweepings of the house, it was my hap to meet with the shanke-bone of a Guzman tries his wit to get some money. Heyfer, which was in a manner whole; I had need of a few of Blankes to make merry with, and presently (a toy taking me in the head) in the turning of a hand, I had lapt vp my Shanker in the Paste that remained; which (as I had handled the matter) was to the outward show a goodly faire Conie, that you could not distinguish the one from the other. Away went I with it to the wonted place, where I vs'd to vent my other things, with a purpose to coo­zen some stranger with it; But because I was in haste, and could not stay long, I might not wait to make choice of my Merchant. There comes me to buy it of me a goodly graue Gentleman-Vsher, (his head and beard as white as Milke) to doe him a pleasure, I was willing he should haue it. We agreed vpon the price, and he was to giue me for it three Royals and a halfe. Me thought I saw the heauens opened, in hauing made so quicke a market. But the more was my haste, the greater was his fleame.

He puts me first vnder his arme a Reportorie or little Register booke, about the bignesse of an Almanacke, which he had in his hand; Then he hangs me at his Girdle, his Gloues and his hand-Kercher; with a great deale of deli­beration; After that, he takes me a case out of his pocket, wherein were his Spectacles: he puls them forth, wipes them, and puts them on, wherein hee spert two long houres. Then he went distilling out of a little leather Purse, one Quarte after another, and putting them in his hand, euery halfe Quarte, seemed to be a Quartile, giuing euery one of them halfe a doozen turnes at the least, holding them against the Sunne. I had scarce receiued my money of him, when lo, my Master was at my backe, who missing me at home, came forth to seeke me. And hauing thus found me napping, he tooke me fast by the arme, and when he had me sure, hee said vnto mee, What Pawne (my Guzman taken in a fault by his Master. youth) haue you redeemed here? My Gentleman-Vsher was present at all this passage: the Deuill (I thinke) kept him there all this while, for the dis­closing or this my secret.

I saw my selfe now in the suds, and knew not which way to get out; (I could not quote my Author, nor yeeld any good reason for what I had done; so that it stood with me, as with prohibited bookes, or merchandize forbid­den to be sold: and punishing me for my fault, he afterwards diues me into my pocket; and when he had fisht out the money, hee cries; Let goe you rogue; Let goe, I say: Are you the man, that so many haue commended vnto me? Are you that dead Flie, that would doe no hurt? Are you that faithfull seruant fo [...] sooth, whom I trusted with my goods, and all that I had? Haue I kept thee in my house? giuen thee of my bread? cherisht, and made so much of thee, and all for this? I will no more be troubled with such a rogue as thou art. See thou com'st no more in my house, and come not, I aduise thee, neere Guzman thrust out of his Ma­sters seruice. my doore; for he that will be false in a little, will (if occasion be offred) bee false in greater matters.

And so giuing me a cuffe on the eare, and a kicke on the breech, both at one instant, in the presence of my Merchant, (whose dull fleame, (the worse lucke mine) would not dismisse him thence) hee had almost laid me flat on the [Page 149] ground. I was so ashamed, that I knew not what answer to make him; though I had stuffe enough in store for him; But not holding it fit so to doe, because he had beene my Master. I hung downe my head, held my peace, and went my waies. For it is a greater glory to auoid iniuries by silence; [...]hen to ouercome them by replying.

CHAP. VII.

IN all chances whatsoeuer that may befall vs in this world, Mas vale Saber, que auer; it is better to be wise, then to Wisd [...]e b [...]tter then Riches. be rich; For though Fortune should play the Rebell, yet Knowledge neuer forsakes a man. Wealth may be wasted, but Knowledge increaseth; and of more worth is that lit­tle, which a wise man knowes; then all that which a rich man inioyeth. There is no man (I thinke) makes any que­stion that Wisdome excelleth Fortune; though both of them put forward, and hasten to one and the same end; which is, to adorne and set forth men, and to raise them to honour.

Diuers Philosophers, did diuersly paint forth Fortune, because in all things Fortune, how decyphred by the Philosophers? she is her selfe so diuerse. Euery one did draw her forth in that forme, as hee found it did accord with himselfe, or as hee did consider it in another. If she be good, she is the Step-dame to all Vertue; if bad, the Mother to all Vice. And him, whom she most fauoureth, she reserueth for most miserie: her courtesies euer ending in disgraces. She is brittle, vnstable, restlesse, Tan­quam Figura sphaerica in corpore plano; like a Sphericall Figure, in a plaine body. That, which she giues to day, she takes away to morow: she is the flowing of the Sea, tossing and tumbling vs to and fro, till she leaue vs at last vpon drie land, on Deaths shore, from which she neuer returnes to recouer vs; And while we liue, inioyning vs (like Players to con ouer our parts, and to learne daily new toyes & deuices, to present them vpon the stage of this World. Eue­ry various accident doth disorder her, & steale Wisdomes praise from her. But Wisdome doth quickly repaire that which she ruineth: And redresseth those things, which she despaireth of; shee is a most rich open Mine, from whence, they that will, may exhaust great treasure, like vnto the waters of a huge Riu [...]r, which can neuer be drawne drie. She honoureth a good fortune, and helpeth a bad. She is siluer in the poore, gold in the rich, and a precious stone in a Prince. In the perillous passages, and in the troublesome chances of Fortune, the wise man treads safely, and walkes securely; but the Foole stumbles and falls, though the way be neuer fo plaine.

There is no trouble so great on the land; no tempest so terrible on the Sea; no storme so violent in the aire, that is able to withstand Wisdome, so that euery man ought to desire to liue to be wise; and desire to be wise, that he What man should doe, to liue hap­pily. may liue happily; Her riches are perpetuall, permanent, constant, and cer­taine. But thou wilt aske me; Whither away, Guzman, so laden with Know­ledge? What thinkst thou to doe with it? To what end dost thou commend it with such large eloquence? Why dost thou so earnestly indeare it vnto vs? What doest thou meane by it? Whether doth it tend? Since you aske me, I will tell you. All this speech hath reference to my Basket, which was the Knowledge that I did studie, for to get meat to my mouth, which is a good [Page 150] point of Wisedome: For, Quien à Oficio, à beneficio, He that hath a good Of­fice, hath a good Liuing. And he that hath no other meanes to liue in this world, and to passe ouer the necessities of this life, shall for me bee esteemed as much in these dayes, as Demosthenes was in those, for his eloquence, and Vlisses for his wit.

My naturall disposition was good; I was descended both by Father and Mo­ther Guzman com­plaines of his mis-fortunes. of a Noble and Honourable Stocke. This I could neither hide, nor lose. And therefore I could not choose but shew of what house I came, by suffe­ring iniuries with patience, the onely tryall of valiant minds. And as badde men, by good things, become worse; so good men, by bad things, are made better; especially, if they know how to make true vse of the things of this world.

Who would haue thought, that so good seruice as I had done, should haue receiu'd so bad a reward? And that vpon so light an occasion, and when I did least expect, I should be thrust out of all? But in answere hereof, thou vvilt happely say vnto me; Such is the world now a-dayes, that for the same very action, for the which at this present, a man is accounted a good seruant, an able Minister well seene in his Office, and to haue behaued himselfe therein as he ought, shall againe at another time, for doing the very same thing, be neg­lected, ill thought of, disgraced, and vndone. And all to this end, that either herein we may see the worlds incertainty, and vvhat errours it doth dayly runne into; or else be brought to confesse, That God, to those, whom he hath predestinated to saluation, after sinning, sends repentance. O would to God, that I might be so happy, as to receiue onely a corporall punishment heere vpon earth.

My Master was now bent against me, his Wife had set him on, and he there­by so incensed, and so apt to take hold of any occasion, that euery the least shut­ting of the eye, or but the wagging of a Straw, would haue beene matter i­nough of exception against me; and though I should haue seru'd him neuer so vvell, neuer so truely, and laboured (as if my life had layne vpon it) not to giue him any the least cause of dislike, yet all would not serue the turne, hee was minded to put me from him, and I must be packing; faulty, or not faulty, all was one. Now I am throwne out into the street, persecuted, and put away: What shall I doe? Whither shall I goe? Or what vvill become of me? Seeing I am thrust out of doores for a Thiefe; who will now intertaine mee in his seruice? Who admit me into his house? Then did I begin to think of my former troubles; & how well I bore them out, by bearing of a Basket. I was wont to be a Bunnolero, a maker of Fritters, Bunnes, and Cracknels, and was now faine to follow mine old trade afresh. It did not repent me, that I had bin in-vred to troubles; for from them I receiu'd my reliefe; and it is good sometimes to take them patiently, and willingly, to the end that they that are driuen to ne­cessity, may the better indure them, and not sinke vnder the burthen of them, as many doe, because they haue not been formerly vs'd vnto them.

And because they can neuer faile vs in this life, but doe still wait vpon vs, it is fit that we should be taught how to entertaine them, that wee may be the better able to beare them when they come. Besides, they make a man submit himselfe to those things, wherein afterwards he findes a great deale of good. There is no affliction so bitter, from which (if thou wilt) thou maist not in the end suck some sweet iuice; nor no pleasure so sweet, whereof thou mayst not feare some bitter end, saue onely in that of vertue. If vvhen I was so vvell ac­commodated to mine owne content, I had not before indured some stormes of Aduersity, neuer in that faire weather of my Scullion-ship, should I haue knowne how to Sayle in my putting forth from the Kitchen, but haue shewne my selfe a raw Mariner, and fresh-water-Pylot, nor haue found things so rea­dy at hand, where-withall to helpe my selfe in time of need.

[Page 151] What vvould then haue become of me? Doest thou not see how troubled, how afflicted I should haue been? and vvhat hard shifts I should (poore wretch) haue been put to, when my Office vvas taken from me, not knowing which vvay to turne my selfe, what course to take, nor where to put my head? All that I got I either plaid it away, or vniustly stole it. I had bought me nei­ther goods nor land with it, neither house, nor cloathes, nor any thing where­withall to couer me. All was spent and gone; As it came, so it went; in at one doore, and out at another; what I gain'd, that I lost; vvhat I seru'd for, that I vvasted: And as the Prouerbe is; I had frutos Frutos, por pension: Quando del beneficio que vno tiene, da todos los fru­tos al pensio­nario, avien­dole Senna­lado la con­grua. Conarru­uias. verb. Fruto. por pension, my fruits allotted me. Of euils, whereof the least is the best, for all these mis-fortunes that befell me, my mayne stocke vvas still remaining with me, to vvit, my lost shame. For vvhat should a poore man doe vvith shame? Bashfulnesse brings in no benefit. And the lesse shame I had, the lesse did those errors grieue me, which I committed. I was now well knowne to all the Towne, and I had money in my purse to buy me a Basket; but before I would resolue to saddle it to my backe, I did night and day visit my Masters friends and acquaintance, to see if any of them vvould haue pity of me, and take me into their seruice. For I had learned now a little skill, and vvould haue beene glad to haue better'd my knowledge, that I might know how to liue another day. Some of them did relieue me a little, intertaining me with a piece of bread, or so.

But it seemed, they had heard such things of mee, that they quickly dismist me, hauing no minde in the vvorld to receiue mee into their seruice. Might ouercomes Right: And where force preuaileth, there the Law goes to (b) Donde la-Fuerça opri­me, La Ley se quiebra. vvracke.

With these diligences that I vs'd, I had performed my duty, and com­plyde with that, vvherevnto I was bound, that I might not accuse my selfe hereafter, of returning to my former course of life, out of meere idlenesse, and for the auoyding of labour, and that I might not vvorke and take paines for my liuing. But I assure thee, that I lou'd it then, as one that had experience what Vice vvas; and knew very vvell, that by so much one man is more man then another, by how much the more he labours in some honest course of life. As the contrary may be said of him that is idle. But a man can doe no more then he can doe; I did my endeuour. Nor doe I know how it comes to passe, that we desiring to be good, yet we neuer come to be so; and though we propose it dayly and hourely vnto our selues, yet we doe not put it in exe­cution We still desire to be good, but ne­uer are good. And the reason why? in many yeeres; nay, not in all our life-time are we able to reach vnto it. And the reason is, because, we either will not, or we do not think vpon any thing but the present. I began to beare my burthens, I did eate what was need­full, (for I neuer made my belly, my God) and a man ought not to eate more, then vvhat may suffice for the preseruing of life. The excesse vvhereof is bru­tishnesse. For it is the Beast that gluts himselfe to grow fat.

By this my orderly dyet, and moderate feeding, my minde vvas not dull'd, my body was not weakened, I did nourish no ill humours, I did breed no dis­eases, Orderly dyet, a wholesome thing. I had my health, I vvas sound & lusty, and neuer wanted money to play.

In my drinking, I was very temperate, neuer vsing it but when I must needs, and then too very sparingly; seeking to proportion my selfe to what was ne­cessary; and to moderate my selfe in some measurable manner, as well, for that Moderate drink­ing, healthfull. The contrary, hurtfull. it was a thing naturall vnto me, and agreeable to my disposition; as also for that drunkennesse, did (me thought) very ill become my Companions: Who depriuing themselues of the sence and reason of men, fall sicke and ill: their heads turne to aking; their tongues, to hoarsenesse; their breathes, to short­nesse, if not to noysomenesse; their eyes, to a swolne settlednesse, & dulnesse of Porters, and Basket-bearers, are for the most part, a base and brutish kinde of people. look; their legges, to making of Congees and Honours; their feet, to tripping of it this way, and that way, vvith counter-paces, now backward, then for­ward, as the Morris-bels in their braines should deuise them their tune. But [Page 152] (which exceedeth all other mischiefes) this inhumane and sottish Vice makes them a May-game to children, a laughing stocke to men, and a scorne to all the world. Such as these are Rogues, and for such, let them goe, for they are no bet­ter then Rogues. And I doe not wonder at it. For all basenesse whatsoeuer is ingrauen on their fore-heads, and is made iust fit to their measure, as being the off-scumme and refuse of men.

But for men of worth, and such as stand vpon their credit, as great and no­ble A [...] for No­ble men, and Gentle [...]. Persons, and Gentlemen of qualitie, who ought to abstaine from these disorders; let them take heed, how they giue any such scandall, to vvrong their Reputation.

But for a Church-man to disorder himselfe, nay, but to goe a haires-breadth The like for Church-men. awry in this kinde: for such a one (I say) it is not onely a disorder, but hee comes within the compasse of being noted for a scandalous person, & a wron­ger of his profession, which cannot but resound much to his reproach. Let them themselues be their owne Iudges, and speake what they thinke of it, when they see themselues thus ouer-taken. Doe they not, for to maintaine their absurdities, seeke to excuse themselues by idle and foolish reasons, and make, I know not what vn-ioynted sequels, by which after one errour gran­ted, they runne into a thousand: and yet perswade themselues, that they, and none but they, are in the right? It is a sham [...] to treat of it; infamy to vse it; villany to cloake it, and a thing vnworthy men, not to hate, and abhorre it.

We had in the Place neere vnto Santa Cruz, our proper Mansion, bought, The Market­place, the Rogues burse. and repaired at other mens cost. There were all the meetings and the Feasts. I was vp with the Sunne, I diligently waited on those Shops, and attended often on the Bakers; and if I wanted imploiment there, I got me into the Shables, to see what good I could do there. I made my haruest in the morning, to serue me all the whole day after. The Parishioners there-abouts, that had no seruants of their owne for these businesses, would hyre me to carry home their prouision for them. Which I did faithfully, and diligently, without wronging them the least hayre of my head. No man of my place had more credit a­mongst them, or was better trusted then my selfe. So that my Companions vvanted worke, whilest I had inough for my selfe, and some other good­fellow my friend, whom I would make choyse of to helpe me; who would be sure to follow me close at the elbow. Then we were but a few of vs, and wee went vp and downe from place to place: but now there are very many, the number is much increased, and all of them haue their hands full, and glad is he that can catch them vp first. And I can assure you, that there is not any Estate, that hath more inlarged it selfe, then that of the Picaro's; for all your Rogues apply themselues to the bearing of Baskets, and carrying of Burthens, they count it a very good Trade, and these Rogues grow proud of it. And to this passe doth mis-fortune bring a man, that his Infamy, he makes his glory; his Basenesse, he counts his Honour; and earnest, he turnes to iest.

It so fell out, that there were certaine Companies of Souldiers to be raised, and Captaines appointed for the conducting of them. Now, when any such thing happeneth, it is presently spred abroad ouer all the Towne, euery cor­ner of the street is full of it, and euery priuate house is made a Councell of State.

Nor doth that of your Picaro's sleepe in the meane vvhile; euery Porter, and [...], and Car-men, & the like base Rogues will not [...]icke to talke of State­ [...]sses. Basket-bearer will haue a hand in the Gouernment of the Common-wealth as well as other men; they will fall into discourse of the businesse, vent their opinions, and conclude, what things ought be done, how carried, and vvho fittest for the managing of these great affaires. Nor doe not thou thinke, that because they are base in their qualitie and condition, that therefore they are the farther off from the Truth, or their intelligence the lesse certaine. If thou doe, thou art much deceiued; for it is rather the quite contrary vvith them. [Page 153] For it often-times so comes to passe, that they know the essentiall points of things, and participate of the secrets of State; and there is a great deale of reason for it. For, in regard of the vnderstanding, some there are, nay, very many of them, who if they would applie it well, and accommodate it, as o­thers doe, making the like vse of it, haue it strong and good. Besides, sithence that they goe all day long from one place to another, through diuers streets, and into sundry houses, and being that they be so many, and so scattered and deuided ouer all the Towne; of many, they heare many things; and though it be vsually said amongst vs; Quantas Cabeças tan­tos pareceres. Quot capita, tot sensus. So many men, so ma­ny mindes. And though happily one, or say a hundred, should shoot wide of the marke, and discharge the follies of their idle braines; yet doubtlesse, there are others againe, that discourse wisely, and will come very neere vnto, if not hit the Pinne.

Now we (hauing raked together all the newes of the whole Towne) when we are met together, and are sitting at our supper, euery man opens his store, and tels what hath past in Court, some relating one thing, and some another. Besides, there is not that Victualing-house or Tauerne, but whatsoeuer hath beene talked of there, is brought to our eares. For there likewise are held your open Courts, and publike Assemblies, where all questions and doubts are winowed and sifted to the full, nothing escapes their search and inquirie; There they limit the Turks power, reforme Councels, and taxe your Mini­sters of State.

In a word, there all things are made knowne, there all things are treated of, and they are the Law-giuers, that prescribe rules to all; for they speake all out of Bacchus his owne mouth, hauing Ceres for their Ascendent, conuer­sing In Vino ve [...]i­tas. with a full belly, and a free heart, and if the Wine Si el Vino es nueuo, hi­erue la tinaja. bee new, the Vessell will runne ouer, it must needs worke, and can no longer hold. With that then, which we haue learned from others, wee come afterwards to sit and determine of euery particular passage, euery man according to his seuerall opinion, setting downe his seuerall censure. One while we resolue, that these Companies are to march towards Italy; and that went for good, and past the more currant amongst vs, because their Banners were aduanced towards Mancha, and were now farre entred into that Countrie, passing from Al­modouar and Argamafilla, along the skirts of the Kingdome of Toledo, till they had got to Alcala do Henares, and Guadalajara, compassing all the way as they went, the Mediterranean Sea.

Me thought, this was a very good occasion for me to take hold on, for the Guzman, desi­rous to passe out of Spaine into Itahe. executing of my former desires, which with earnest longings did mightily spurre me on to vndergoe this Voyage, that I might know mine owne blood, and whence I was descended, how I was alli'd, and of what qualitie my Pa­rents and Kindred were. But I was so totter'd and torne, and so vtterly vn­prouided of all things for this my intended iourney, that the bridle of Reason made me stop vpon my course, and held me backe from going farther for­ward, it seeming vnto me (vpon better deliberation) a thing impossible to be effected. But notwithstanding, my minde ranne still on nothing else.

This was still in my head, and I could not beate it out. In the day time it was my studie; and in the night I dream'd still on that, and nothing but that. And if that Romane Prouerbe taketh place (Si quieres ser Papa, estampalo en la testa) if thou mindest to bee Pope, thou must haue him writ in thy Pr [...]. forehead: it was truly verified in mee. For, as I was beating my braines about this businesse, tossing them a thousand times to and fro, full of this so­licitous care▪ I sate me dovvne on the one side of the Place, neere vnto one of the Shops, vvhere my selfe, and this my other Associate vvere vvont to make our Rendeuo [...]s; And leaning my cheeke (in a melancholy manner) vpon my hand, being fully resolued to goe, though it vvere but in the place of a strag­ler, [Page 154] to vvaite vpon the Soldiers, and to carry their luggage for them, thin­king this vvould be place good enough for me, if I could not light on a better.

Whilest I was deuising this with my selfe, on the sodaine I heard a voice, which said; Guzman, Guzmanillo? I lookt about, and turned my face to­wards the place, from whence the voice came. And I perceiu'd at last, it was a Grocer, that stood vnder the walking place vnderset with Pillars, that cal'd me vnto him, neere adioyning to the Butcher-row. I held vp my hand, and made a signe vnto him, that I would hasten thither. I got me vp, and came to see, what he would with me. He spake vnto me, and bid me open my Basket. I did so. That no sooner done, but he throwes me into it, about some two thousand fiue hundred Royals in Siluer and Gold, and in some few Quartes. I ask'd him; To what Brasier I should carry this Copper? Copper, you rogue? Co [...]e, vp, and away with it, for I must goe pay it to a Merchant a Guzman re­solues to [...]cale a summe of money, and puts it in execution. stranger, that hath sold me some Wares at my shop.

He said one thing, and I thought another: which was, to shew him a tricke at the next turning. And beleeue me, the ioyfull newes of a desired birth, did neuer come more welcome to the eares of a louing Father: Nor the Mariner beaten by tempest, did with more ioy discouer on the sodaine the Harbour, that he sought to put into: Nor any rendred Towne, to that famous Cap­taine that besieg'd it, gaue so much content, nor had so sweet a sound with it, or afforded so pleasing an Accent; as I conceiued then in my soule, hearing that sweet and melodious voice of my Grocer, when he said, The Spanish word is Capa­cha: à Capaci­tate. Open thy Basket. Me thought it was a braue word, they were letters of Gold ingra­uen in my heart, leauing it full of ioy, but much more when they had quali­fi'd themselues, by actually putting me into a quiet and peaceable possession of that, which I was perswaded would be my best remedie.

Vpon this luckie incounter, I began alreadie to dispose of this money, and to change my course of life. I laded my shoulders with it, faining; that it did weigh very heauie, but my heauines was the more, that there was no more of it. My honest Grocer, he (good man) goes afore, and I follow after, but with a wondrous desire to meet with some throng, or presse of people in some street or other, or to slip aside into some house, where I might effect my purpose. Fortune (as good lucke was) had, in the very nicke, fitted me with one, iust according to the measure of my desire. For if I would haue wisht for an op­portunitie, I could not haue desired a fairer. For as I was entring into the principall Gate, I got me away some three streets from thence by a blinde Po­sterne doore, and fetching boords from one corner to another, with some­what a quicke, but not discomposed pace, that I might the better auoid all suspition. I went away gallantly, winding this way, and turning that way, till I had got to A chiefe Gate so called. Puerta la Rega, where I eased my selfe of my load, and made downe to the Riuer. From thence I crost ouer to A house of pleasure belon­ging to the King of Spaine, not far from Ma­drid. Casa del Ca [...]po, and being holpen by the night, I walkt (through a little thicket of Alder trees, Poplars, and other well-growne bushes of thorne) a League farther: in the thickest part whereof I cast Ankor, and had now pitcht my Standard, that I might with mature counsell thinke vpon things to come, and what fruit and benefit I might make of my late purchase. For it is not enough to begin well, nor to goe on well, but to end well. For to little vse serue good beginnings, and better proceedings, vnlesse they be crowned with prospe­rous endings. What good would this theft haue done me, if I had beene ta­ken with it, but to lose that, and with it, perhaps my eares, if not to haue beene The Spanish p [...]se is, auer comprado vn cabo de anno. i. La memoria y sufragios, que se hazen por el difunto, cumplido el anno que mu­riò. That is, the [...] & suffrages, which are made for the de [...], the yeere being fully [...] after his [...]. Couarruuias. Verb. C [...]o. hang'd for my labour, if I had beene of yeeres? There I entred in­to consultation with my selfe, what I were best to doe: I made triall where the water was deepest, and there where the bushes were thickest, I made a deepe hole; and wrapping the money in the linings of my breeches and my [Page 155] doublet, I put it in, couering it ouer very handsomely with sand and stones; setting vp a marke, that I might not forget the place where I had hid it, han­kering there-abouts, that I might euer and anon haue an eie vpon it, for the space of almost fifteene daies: And all because I would not trouble my selfe hereafter in seeking for it some two foot neerer or farther off, which would haue beene as bad as death vnto me, if I should not haue hapned to light vpon it, as soone as euer I had thrust in my hand. And the rather, for that some nights I went from thence to the neighbouring places there-abouts, to get me some victuals for three or foure daies, returning presently backe againe to my old haunt, keeping my selfe close, after the Sunne once began to peepe forth, in that Wood adioyning to the Pardo is a house of pleasure, seated in a Wood, belonging to the King of Spaine, neere to Madrid. It comes from the word Pardes, Par adisus, id est, hortus do­mesticus arbo­ribus consitus, Pomarium. And amongst o­ther significati­ons, it is taken for a Parke. Genebrard vpon the Can­tic. saith, Pards vocabulum est Persicum, quod in omnes fere linguas mana­uit pro hor­to pretioso & delicioso om­nium arborum genere con­sito. Couarruuias. Verb. Pardo. Pardo.

Hither, in this manner as you see, had I with-drawne my selfe, till the Hue and Crie were past and gone, which vndoubtedly was made after mee. Now by this time, they had lost my footing, and I conceiuing with my selfe, that the Coast was now cleere, and that I might safely passe, that I might re­moue my Tent, and march forward, I made me vp a little fardle of the old linings that were left of my Ierkin, wherein I had closely lapt vp this my heart-blood. So that I had nothing now left me, saue the old linings of my Breeches, a poore ragged Doublet, and a Shirt all torne and full of holes, but all as white and cleane as a curd, for I had lately washt them. So that I was apparelled all in white, being wonderfull well fitted for to make vp one in a The Spanish phrase, is Dança de espadas. A dance much vsed in the Kingdome of Toledo; they dance it in their shirts, and Bree­c [...]es of Linnen, and night. Caps on their heads, & bright Swords; it is full of changes, and one amongst the rest, which they call Degol­lada; proque cercan el cuel­lo del que los quia con las espadas, y quando pa­reçe que se la van à cortar por todos par­tes, se les es­curre de entre ellas. [...] siue, [...]. Couarru. Morris-dance. I got me two delicate fine walking Cudgels, which I had cut my selfe, and pill'd off the Rinde, and made as smooth and neat as could be deuised. On the one, I hung the precious bundle, which I bare at my backe; the other I made a Truncheon of it, to carrie in my hand. I was now fat and full fed, and began to grow wearie of being any longer a Conie in that Warren, fearing lest one of the Keepers, or some other Ferreter, should finde me there in the Berrie, and pull me out as a suspicious person; To pre­uent that, I began to take my iourney by night, when it was darke, going out of the rode-way, taking crosse, pathes, by-places, and vntrodden tracks, passing thorow La Sagra de Toledo, a certaine Territorie belonging to that kingdome, till I came two leagues beyond it, to a little place that stood in a bottome called Açuqueica,; whither I had reached betimes in the morning. There I rested my selfe vnder the shadow of certaine Quince-trees, where I meant to spend that day. Where e're I was aware, I found hard by me a pret­tie young stripling, much about my pitch. He seemed to be some Citizens sonne, who out of some vn-aduised consideration as mine was, had forsaken his Parents to trauell abroad, and goe see the world; He carried his Fardle at his backe, and being but a young nouice, bred vp daintily, and newly taken from his mothers teat, the Milke yet hanging on his lips, was wearie of his burthen, and himselfe seemed heauie, in hauing so heauie a load: sure, he had no great minde to returne home againe to his friends; and as little, that they should finde him out. He walk't as I did, in the day thorow Groues and thickets, and in the night along the high-way, seeking couert, where to shrowde himselfe. Which the rather I ghes [...]e to be so, for that, from our ar­rinall there, vntill it were night, that we were to depart, he did not budge a foot from the place where I was. When we were to goe our waies, taking vp his Fardle very heauily, he let it fall againe to the ground, saying, Gods curse goe with thee, a little thing would make mee to leaue thee here be­hinde mee.

Now, I must tell you by the way, that we had had some talke together be­fore, and exchanged (as occasion offred) good store of words, taking account one of another of our Voyages, and what, and whence we were; He did not deale truly with me, and I would not confesse my selfe to him; For by mine owne lies, I knew those that he told me. And so wee were both payd in our [Page 156] owne coyne. All that I could sucke from him, was; that he acquainted me with his wants.

Now finding the coniuncture good, and the distaste great, which he had ta­ken at that heauy burthen which he bore at his backe; but much more, that his purse was so light, I began to coniecture with my selfe, that it might haply be a sute of cloathes: Wherevpon, I askt him, what luggage was that he car­ried, which did giue him so much trouble, and made him so weary? He [...] told me it was a sute of apparell. This suted well with my desires; the induction (me thought) was good. Therevpon, I proceeded farther, and told him; Sir, I could giue you reasonable good counsell, if you would bee willing to accept of it. He intreated me to giue it him, and that finding it to be such, he should be very thankefull vnto me for it.

My aduice then vnto him, was; That since he went laden with that, which as yet he had no great need of, nor would it much import him, if he had, that he should rid himselfe of it, and haue recourse to that, which might be more necessary for him. Heere you carry a wardrop, or what else so euer it be, a­bout you; I would wish to sell it, and put it in your purse; for besides that it will weigh lesse, you shall make your profit of the money you shall receiue for it.

The yong Youth discreetiy replyde, (for your Toledanos haue passing good wits:) This aduice of yours I like well, and would follow it; but I hold it impertinent for the present. And Consejo, sin remedio, es cuerpo sin alma. Coun­sell, without a cure, is a body, without a Soule. What doth it import me to sell Prou [...]b. it, if I want a Chapman to buy it? I haue no occasion to goe into any Town, either to truck for it, or to sell it, and no body will buy it of mee, that does not know me.

Then I demanded of him; what pieces they were that hee had in his packe? He told, they were certaine cloathes for change, when he was min­ded to [...]hift those others that hee had on his backe. I askt him of the colour, and whether it had beene much worne? He answered mee, that it vvas a mingled colour, and reasonable good. This pleas'd me better and better, I could not dislike of it: Therevpon, I offred him present paiment, if the cloathes did fit me.

The Youth beganne to looke sadly vpon me, as one that had beene strooke into a muze, and fell to eye me from top to toe; for all that I had on my back, was not worth so much thred as would serue to binde vp a farthing-worth of Saffron, it was not worth one poore small Comin-seed, and yet I should haue the face to offer him money for his cloathes.

This imagination was mine owne; and it may be, it entred into his con­ceit, that I was a little young thiefe, and that I would put some tricke or other vpon him. For he stood in suspence, consulting with himselfe, whe­ther hee vvere best to shew them vnto me, or no? For hee knew not how to trust me. And my fashion vvas then such, that he could not hope, nor sur­mize, that any good thing should come from me. So much difference is there betweene good and bad cloathes, that it giues either a good or a badde pre­sumption of a mans person, according to that old Adage; Qual te hallo, tal te juzgo. As I find you, so I take you. For where knowledge doth not informe, there the habit doth qualifie. But this Prouerbe is oft checkt: Que debaxo [...]e mala capa, [...] [...]uer buen v [...]dor. Vnder a thred-bare cloake, lyes many times much learning. And beggerly bottles oftentimes hold rich Wines. I did pre­sently Prou. apprehend his thought, as if I had been within him; And that I might reduce him to a better opinion of me, and alter his conceit, I said vnto him; My pretty little Youth, I would haue you know, that I am as good a man as your selfe, and euery way as well borne, though I haue forborne till now to giue you account what I am; but because thou mayst lay aside all feares and [Page 157] iealousies, I am now minded thou shalt haue it. My natiue soyle is Burgos; there was I borne, and thence did I set forth, (as thou doest now,) reasonable well acoutred. I haue already done that, which I now aduise thee vnto: I sold my cloathes, as hauing then no need of them, and with that money which I had for them, together with that which I brought from home, I will buy me other, when I shall come, where I haue occasion to vse them. And by be­ing carefull in looking well to my money, (hiding it in some secret place about me,) and by trauelling vpon the way in these totter'd ragges, (which I now haue on) I secure my life, and passe freely to and fro.

For no man will set vpon him that is poore. Hee liues safely, and dwels A poore man li [...]es secure from harme. in places vn-peopled, and dis-inhabited, without any feare at all of theeues that should come to robbe him, or murderers to assault him on the way, and take his life from him. If therefore you haue any minde to it, sell mee what you haue no need of, and doubt not my paiment, for I am well able to doe it. I am neere to Toledo, whither I am bound; I would gladly goe in a little hand­somer, and not in this base and vile habit that I haue now about mee. The Youth vndid his Fardle, takes me out a Cloake, a payre of Breeches, a Cas­socke, two Shirts, and a paire of Silke Stockins, all as fit for me, as if they had been made of purpose for me.

I agreed with him for a hundred Royals, nor were they worth any more; for although the cloathes were well vs'd, and little worne, yet the cloth was none of the finest. I ript open the one side of my bundle, and tooke out thence as many Q [...]rtes as seru'd the turne; which gaue him no small trouble, when he perceiu'd the basenesse of the money; for though it went against his sto­make to beare any more burthens, yet he could by no meanes excuse it. But he comforted himselfe with this, that it was lighter then the other, and more vse full vpon all occasions. The bargaine ended, we shooke hands, and parted. He went to seeke his fortune, I know not whither. And I that night, though late, entred Toledo.

CHAPTER VIII.

IT is a common saying; Q [...] aunque vistan a la mona de seda, mona se queda. An Ape, though he bee cladde in gold, will Prou. be an Ape still. And this is so infallibly true, that it admit­teth no exception. A man may easily alter his Habit, but hardly change his euill conditions. Hee may intertaine and deceiue folkes with his cloathes, though hee himselfe be starke naked, and stript of all goodnesse. I will presently turne Gallant, and as soone returne againe to my old trade; bee a Gentle­man to day to morrow a Porter. For, hee that knowes not how to liue by the sweat of his b [...]owes, must quickly fall into pouerty, as you shall see in the sequell of this Story.

The first thing that I did the next morning, was the altring of my Doublet, my Shooes, and my Hat; I tooke off that Taffata, that was on the Cape of my Guzman comes to Toledo, and puts himselfe into handsome apparel Cloake, and put on other of another colour; I clapt new buttons vpon my Ca [...]sock; I tooke off the sleeues that were of Cloth, and in their stead set to o­thers, that were of Silke: so that with a little cost, I had quite altred the fa­shion [Page 158] of those cloathes I had lately bought; fearing lest for my sinnes-sake, or by some other mis-fortune, I might be taken in some trap, and so come to pay both for this, and the last yeeres reckning. For if (by chance) this young Youths friends should send after him, and make inquiry for him, and should hap to light vpon me, and finde his cloathes on my backe, they would present­ly suspect, that I had kill'd him to get his cloathes, and so demand their lost child of me, and driue me to giue them an account, what was become of him.

When I had fitted my selfe to my minde, I walked vp and downe the City some two dayes together, making inquiry, where, or in what place were any Companies of Souldiers, that were to goe vpon seruice, but could not of any heare any certaine newes. Thus I went beating the ayre, as one that was idle, and had nothing else to doe.

And as I past by Socodouer is the great Mar­ket-place in To­ledo. Compoun­ded of Saca, that is a place; and dequeuir, which signifies, great; which put toge­ther, makes Sa­cadqueuir, and by corruption Socodouer. Diego de Vr­rea saith, it comes from Sa­cud de va [...]r. A word com­pounded of Sci­cun, which is, a place; and of the Verbe Saca, which is to draw▪ & from deuair, which signifieth all kind of sou [...]e­footed Beasts for burthen. So that Socodouer, is as it were a place, where beasts are broug [...]t laden with [...] ­ctuals, and other prouision, to sell in the open Market. Couarrunias. Socodouer, (which I crost but seldome, and that with feare: and if I went out of my lodging, it was against my will, and that late, not sleeping three nights in one place, lest, if any man should chance to know me, I might be apprehended and carried to prison:) it was my hap to see a Gentleman, mounted on a Mule, to crosse the way, going (as it should seeme) to the Court, so handsomely clad, and so well suted, that I did enuy his gal­lantry. His breeches were of Murry Veluet, cut with some-what a long, but delicate fine cut, drawne out vpon Cloth of Siluer: His doublet of Cloth of Gold, vpon which he had a Buffe Ierkin, laid on with a costly Milane-Lace, some three fingers broad. Hee had a braue Hat, answerable to the rest, im­broidered about the brimmes, and well set forth with it's Feather, and vvas not a little graced by the Hat-band, which was set thicke with Gold-Buttons, inammeled with blacke.

This Gentleman rode A man is said to be en Cuerpo, when he goes without a cloake, being in his bare Hose and D [...]. Guzmans vaine and idl [...] humour. en cuerpo, in his Hose and Doublet. But in his Port-Manteau he had a Cloake, which (if I be not deceiued) was of Rash, or else of fine Cloth, oflike colour to his Hose, rounded about, with a broad Parch­ment Gold Lace, sutable to that of his Ierkin. These good cloathes of his set an edge on my appetite. And seeing I had not got my money by Thrashing, but came by it so easily, it began to laugh and tighie in my purse, it geered and it fleered, and (like a little yong Diuell) went gingle, gingle, gingle.

When I saw my purse was set vpon this merry pin, I could hold no longer for my heart, but brake presently with him, and told him in good earnest, If you haue a minde to dance, I shall not sticke to pype vnto you: And if you will not leade on merrily of your owne accord, I shall be as loth to keepe you any longer company. And therefore I vvould wish you to accomplish this my desire, satisfying mee herein, and that quickly, without any farther delay.

Heerevpon I vvent forth-with to a Merchants shop, bought all things fit­ting, called a Taylor vnto me, and caused him to cut out my cloathes, who made such good haste, that he was (as the phrase is) ni oydo, ni visto; neither heard, nor seene. It was finished in a trice, before any words vvere made of it, or any eye had seene it. For in three dayes, he brought it me home, and put it on my backe; being iust the same with the other, and as like, as like could be, all saue the Buffe Ierkin, which because I could not meet with a good one according to my minde, I made me one of Murrey Sattin, trimm'd with tren­si [...]s of Gold. My Garters were of Straw-colour, fringed about with Gold Lace, and purled with Spangles. So that now I did scarce know my selfe; I vvas growne so fine on the sudden; all was in very good order, and my selfe not a little proud of it.

Now I had no more to doe, but to set a good face on the matter: and to say the truth, for a good face; when I was a Boy, there were few that had a bet­ter. For I was very vvell-fauour'd, my eye quicke, and my countenance throughout very pleasing. When I saw what a gallant Souldier I was growne, [Page 159] I did proudly iet it about the streets of Toledo, in a very good Equipage, as if I had beene the sonne of some principall Man of note. I likewise entertai­ned to attend on my person, a pretie handsome Page, and well clad; and I fell into acquaintance with one that was well skill'd in the fashions of that Coun­trie, and spake excellent language.

I conceited then with my selfe (seeing my selfe thus inthronized, and so well accoutred) that my Father was aliue againe, and that I was restored to those prosperous times, wherein I was borne: I thought my selfe the happiest man in the world, and tooke such delight in my gay clothes, that a nights I was loth to put them off, and a daies, I left no street vntrodden, to the end that all might see me; though I would not, that any should know me. I got me vp betimes one Sunday morning, put on a proud and stately gate, and in all this my gallantrie stept me with a iolly presence into the Cathedrall Church, for to heare Masse, though (let me whisper it in your eare) I went thither more (I feare me) for ostentation, then deuotion; not so much to heare, as to be seene. I walkt round about the Church some three or foure times at least; I visited the Chappels, (which were most resorted vnto) till at last I came betweene the two Quires, where I staid: There I saw many Ladies and Gentlewomen, and a great many of Gallants. But I did strut and The Spaniard hath naturally a proud kinde of gate. set forth my selfe, as if I had beene the only Cocke of the game, and all the rest Crauens; none of their combes nor feathers were so goodly (me thought) as mine owne. I did put them downe all for a braue suit of clothes. And like a bonny-Shepheard, made show of all the whole fleece, as one that was very willing, that they should take a generall suruey both of my person, and Ap­parell, not debarring their eies of those lesser obiects, as my girdle, garters, and shoo-ties, which were all del Tudesco, curious and delicate worke, right Flanders.

I stretcht forth my necke, bore out my brest, stood stiffe vpon my legs, ad­uancing one while this, and then that other foot; carrying my selfe in that vaine and idle fashion, that euery one at last had found me out, and obseruing the strangenesse of my looks my Mimick gestures, and often change of Po­stures, they began to iest and scoffe at my folly. But as long as they lookt vpon me, I ne're lookt into that; nor did I so much as once perceiue, that my faults were the strings whereon their laughter plaid. But I rather thought with my selfe, that they did admire my curiositie, and my gallantrie.

And this is all, that offers it selfe to be spoken of concerning the men. But a prettie accident hapned vnto me amongst the women, not vnworthy such fooles as my selfe; and this it was: Two amongst the rest were present there at that time, one of the which (being borne in that Citie, and of ex­traordinarie beautie) fixed her eies vpon my person, (or to speake more truly) vpon my purse; perswading her selfe, that I that had such good clothes, could not choose but haue good store of money. But for the present, I tooke no notice of that, nor did I care to cast an eye towards her, because I had swallowed the others baite, that sate on the other side. Who hauing made (as children vse to doe) some signes vnto her with my finger, smild vpon me, and cast a kinde of Guzman caught with a looke, and a smile. slie looke towards me. I thought that was enough, and that the goale was al­ready gotten. I perseuered in my ignorance, and she in her cunning carriage, till that going out of the Church, she went home to her house, and I after her, walking leisurely along. I ventur'd vpon her, and falling into discourse with her, vented some of my fooleries: But she, (as if she had beene made of stone) answered me not a word, nor risented nothing that I said vnto her: yet for all this she did not sticke now and then to turne her head aside towards me, and to discouer her face vnto me, which was the fire, that did burne me aliue. At last we come to a street, neere vnto the Solana, Corredor de Sol. Solarium. Verb: Solana. Couan [...]uias Solana of St. Cyprian, where shee dwelt. And as she entred into her house, it seemed (stooping to goe in) that [Page 160] shee made me a kinde of reuerence and courtsie with her head; and me thought hereies laughed as it were vpon me, and her countenance shewd it selfe very cheerefull. With this (for this time) I left her, and returned backe to my lodging the same way I came. But I had not gone many steps, but it was my hap to spie a young Wench that had taken vp her standing at the cor­ner of the street, who had wrapt her selfe vp so close in her Mantle, that you could scarce perceiue the eyes of her. This Wench had dogg'd me, and put­ting The cunning of your Spanis [...] wo­men. only forth those her two lesser fingers of her faire hand, with them and her head, she call'd and beckned me vnto her. I came vnto her, to know what she would be pleased to command me. Who made a long discourse vnto me, telling me that she was seruant to such a married Gentlewoman, a woman of very good fashion, and principall qualitie, to whom I was much obliged, and could not out of noblenesse, but thinke my selfe much bound vnto her, for the extraordinarie loue which she bare vnto me.

And therefore, as well in regard of this her good affection towards my selfe, as also in respect of her owne condition, (being so great and so worthy) and the strength of her Alliance and Kindred, which were men of no meane power and estimation in those parts; that I would be pleased to acquaint her where I lodged, because she had some earnest businesse to treat with me, and must needs speake with me, for it did much concerne her so to doe. I was so taken with this, that I had much adoe (as they say) to keepe my selfe from leaping out of mine owne skinne; nor would I haue chang'd this good for­tune of mine, with the best that euer befell Alexander the Great: Soothing and flattering my selfe with this vaine conceit, that all the Ladies and Gen­tlewomen in the Towne were falne in loue with me, and now began to striue who should inioy me first.

To this her message, I returned a very graue & demure answer, with a grate­full acknowledgement of this her offred (though vndeserued) fauour, which when she shall be pleased to make me worthie thereof, I shall thinke my selfe not only the most graced, but the most fortunate, and happiest man in the world. In this conuersation, by little and little, we draw neere to my Lod­ging. She tooke notice of it, and leaue being taken each of other, I get me in to dinner, for it was more then time.

Now, for that I knew not what this Gentlewoman was, and had neuer seene her heretofore (to my knowledge) my longing was not so great to looke after her, as was my desire to see this other. I thought euery houre a thousand yeere, till I might come to see her againe; Time (me thought) was too slow of wing, his Glasse did not runne fast enough, his Sithe did not sweepe away the loytring houres halfe so speedily, as I could haue wished. Yet at last I hie me to the street where she dwelt, bestowing there more turnes, and circling more rounds about her house, then a Mill-horse, or a Mule that drawes in an Anoria, is an engine that goes with wheeles, to draw water out of a Well. Some would haue it to come from Anno, a yeere. For as the Sunne passing thorow the twelue Signes, causeth the yeere, and brings it a­bo [...]t anew: So that Wheele, when it is downe at the l [...]est, comes about a­bo [...]t. Some say it is compounded ded of am, circum; and haurio, taking vp the water as it turnes about. Others, of [...], sursum and [...], fluo, because it causeth the water below, to come vp. Others from the w [...]rd Annuere, To incline. Others, from [...] Reftauro, restituo, renouo. Because when they are emptie, they come to be fill'd afresh. Others of the word, [...], Hau­storia, which signifieth Anoria, quasi Antloria. Of the Verbe Antlo, antlas. Diego de Vrrea saies, it is an Arabicke word, of the Verbe Neuare, to goe round, making a noise, as Anoria doth. Padre Guadix, that it is called Noria, from Na­aura, which is as much as a wheel [...]g, or turning about. Couarru. Anoria; yet at last, when it grew somewhat late, and the day shut vp, she came forth (as by stealth) to talke with me from her window. Then did we enter discourse, and exchang'd many words; at last she told me, that I must needs that night come and sup with her. I commanded my seruant to prouide me a good fat Capon, a brace of Partridge, a baked Conie, a bottle of the Wine Vino del Santo, a rich kinds of [...]ine, as famous a­bout Toledo; as that of Ayon Na [...]tueil in France. del Santo, and as good bread as could be got for money, fruits and other the like things for the latter course, and that he should make haste, and bring them away with him.

[Page 161] Afcer that the night was well in, thinking it was now high time, I went to the place appointed, where I was kindly receiued, and entertained with all the kindenesse and courtesie that could be deuised. It was now a fit houre for supper, and therefore intreated her, that she would command the Table to be couered. But she finding out fresh matter to worke vpon, and spending the time in new entertainements, spunne out the thred still longer and longer, adding one delay to another; I maruail'd a God what she meant by it; I knew not in the world what to make of it.

At last, whilest I was musing vpon it, she puts me into a Labyrinth, begin­ning to tell me that she was a Virgin, her descent Noble, her condition and qualitie, of those of the best ranke, and that she had a brother, an vnruly young fellow, ill gouern'd, and worse-condition'd, subiect to swaggering, and to quarrelling; a kinde of roaring-Boy; one that neuer came within doores, vnlesse it were sometimes to his dinner or his supper, and all the rest both day and night, hee spent in play, and other youthfull pleasures.

Whilest we were in this deepe discourse, behold, one knocks aloud at the doore. Shee cries out, Ay me! what shall I doe? I am vndone, I am vndone. So much was she moued, so distractedly troubled with this feigned perturba­tion, so good a face did she set vpon this falshood, and did dissemble this her passion so handsomely, that she might haue therewith deceiued a wiser, and better experienced man then my selfe. And though this Gentlewoman knew very well, both the end and the meanes, whereby all this businesse was to bee carried, yet did she play her part so well, that she seemed to be mightily af­flicted, as one that knew not which way to turne her selfe. And as if then presently that remedie had occurr'd vnto her, (as a thing suddenly thought vpon) she desired me of all loues to put my selfe for a while into a Tinaja, a large wide Vessell of earth, as big as a Tunne. Antonius drawes it's Ety­mologie from Tinea. Alio nomine, Doli­um. In Spaine they vsually fill them with water, with Oyle; with Wine, or the like. Tinaja, that had no water in it, yet was it not without some droppings, and a kinde of sliminesse hanging about the sides of it, and that none of the cleanest. This earthen Vessell stood in the outward Court vnder the Porch. I got in as well as I could, as willing to doe what she would haue me; she claps a Lid ouer it, and when she had lo done, she returnes to her Estrado, shee was scarce set, but her brother comes in; who seeing such a great smoake in the house, said vnto her; Why how now sister, what meane you by this? are you turn'd Gallant, and thinke to out-braue me with this smoake? it is maruell you doe not let the raine drip in to driue mee hence. What haue wee to supper? so much smoake must promise much good cheere. It is not I trow, a great deale of fire (as they say) and a little roast.

And as he went thus talking along, he entred into the Kitchen; where he had no sooner seene our prouision, but he gets him out againe, saying; Here's braue doings indeed; it is newes to see this, Sister. Which of vs two, I pray, is to be married this night? How came this hither into the house, and when? What curious banquet is this, or who the guests that are inuited vnto it? Is this the confidence I haue had of you? Is this the honour which I maintaine? and this the reputation, that you giue to your Fathers house, and to me your vnfortunate brother? I must know the truth of this businesse, or else it is like to be a blacke night. She excused her selfe vnto him, but how or which way, I cannot tell you; for partly through feare, and partly because the T [...]naja was couered, I could not well either heare or vnderstand more then the noise which her words sent forth. And in this chollericke humour of his, being much offended with her, he willed her to sit downe at boord. And when they had supt, he in his owne person went downe with a Candle, and fell to sear­ching of the house, and had made fast the doore, that opened out into the street: And they two entring together into their priuat chambers, remained there within, and I without in the Tinaja. All this while I was very atten­tiue to whatsoeuer was said or done, and earnestly betooke my selfe to my [Page 162] deuotions, insomuch, that there was not any one prayer that I had learned all my life-time, that I did not tunne ouer and ouer, that God might blind his eyes, and that he might not see where I was.

And finding my selfe out of danger, lifting vp the couer, I thrust out my head a little to see whether my Mistresse were comming, or that I could heare her either cough, or spet, whether any Cat were stirring about the house, or a­ny thing else whatsoeuer. Euery thing that mou'd, my minde still gaue mee that it should be she. But seeing that she staid so long away, and that the house w [...]s wonderfull quiet, I leapt out of the belly of my Tinaja, like another Io­nas out of the Whales, though not so cleane as I could wish.

But it was my good hap, that for feare of such mischances, which are wont to happen, especially to young-men, I had reserued my better cloathes for the day, making vse a nights of that old Sute, which I had bought before, so that the care I tooke was not great, and it did so much the lesse grieue me. I ranged round about the house, and went from lodging to lodging, till I came at last to her Chamber, where I beganne with my finger to scratch the doore, like a dogge; and did the like vpon the floore, and all that she might heare me: but this deafe Adder, was of that euill condition, that she had stopt her eares.

In this kinde of language the night wore away, and the day beganne to ap­peare: which when I perceiued, inraged, afflicted, desperate, and ready to freeze for cold, opening the street doore, and pulling it after mee, I went forth (like a foole as I was) cursing and blaspheming, The Spanish [...], Echan­do mantas, y no de lano. Casting abroad C [...]rless, but not of Wooll: i. vs [...] hayry and [...]sh [...]ds, [...] milde [...]d [...] words, like wooll. fretting and fuming, and making crosses on the wall, with a purpose neuer to come there any more.

Musing vpon my mis-fortunes, I drew neere to mine owne lodging, finding not farre from thence a Cookes shop open, where I fill'd my belly with Pyes, such as are eaten by such Picaros and Rogues, as my selfe, which were to mee more sauoury, then any other. And with them, that rage, and wrathfull chol­ler descended downe into my stomake, which stucke before in my throat, and was ready to choke me. My lodging was neere at hand, I called to my seruant, who (waiting there for me) opened the doore; I came in, put off my cloathes, and got me to bed. But the remembrance of the wrong that I had receiued, would not suffer me to sleepe, nor to take any rest. One while I condemn'd my selfe, another while my Mistresse, and by fits would lay the blame vpon mine owne ill fortune.

And while I was debating these things with my selfe, it being now broad day, behold, one knockes at my Chamber doore, and it was the Maid that had dogg'd me the day before, and her Mistresse with her, who was no sooner come in, but she sets her selfe downe in a Chaire, close by my bed-side, and her This is an ordina­rie fashion in Spaine. seruant that waited on her, sate vpon the ground neere vnto the doore. The Gentle-woman askt me along Story of my life; Who I was? what my busines? and how long I stayd in Towne? But the Diuell a word of truth, that she could get from my mouth. All that I told her, were arrant lyes; for I was made of nothing else. And thinking to deceiue her, she caught me in the trap. I went satisfying of her demands, but fell short (I know not how) in that part of mine account, which concerned me most. For, whereas I should haue said, That I was to reside there some certaine moneths. I told her that I past as a Tra­ueller, and was shortly to be gone. She, that she might not lose the aduantage of the Dice, and to shew what a poore gamester I was, in seeking after such tr [...]sitorie sport, that was to last so little awhile, (but a cast, and away) made sure account, if I would but set out her hand liuely, to put a tricke vpon mee. And thereupon, she presently began to pitch the Hay, wherewith shee meant [...]o catch the Conie.

Thus resolued, she carelessely, (or rather with a great, deale of carelesse care) w [...]nt discouering her brauery in her cloathes, which was neat and delicate, with rich abillir [...]ts of Gold, withother things vnder her gowne, which [Page 163] was of Naples Grogram, choyser Silke all Italy was not able to afford.

And taking out certaine Beads of Corall out of her pocket, she made shew of playing with them in her hand, tossing them to and fro; and within a little while after, she feigned that she mist a Relicke, which was fastened therevnto. She seemed to be much afflicted for the losse of it, saying, tha [...] it vvas her hus­bands. And therewithall she suddenly rose vp, as if it did import her to goe backe againe presently to her owne house, that she might lose no time for the finding of it againe, if by chance she had there let it fall. And albeit I promised to giue her such another, and perswaded her all that I could, and made her large offers, I could not winne her to stay any longer.

Away she went, yet passing her vvord vnto me, that she would come again to visit me, and send her Maid backe againe vnto mee, as soone as shee came home, to aduise me, if she had found her lost Iewell. It made me very melan­cholly, and grieu'd me much, that she should in this fashion go away from me, for that (as I told you before) shee was maruellous beautifull, exceeding gal­lant, and wonderfull discreet. I had a great minde to sleepe, and settled my selfe to take some rest, but I could not continue it for aboue two houres. I had too many cares in my head to take any case, and therefore I arose, that I might thinke the better of them, vvhen I was vp.

By that time I had made my selfe ready, dinner came in; & while I vvas yet sitting at the table, her Maid entred the roome. Who (being a witty Wench as she vvas) intertain'd me till dinner vvas ended. And then she told me, that she was once more come back againe to see, whether her Mistris, playing there with her Rosario in her hand, had by chance let fall that piece? Wee were all downe vpon our knees, to see if we could haue the good lucke to finde it; but it could not be found, because it was neuer lost.

When we had giuen ouer looking, I complemented with her, and told her, that I did not grieue so much for the worth of the thing it selfe, as for her sake, whose it was.

Then did she figure forth vnto me the bignesse, the proportion, and the true fashion of it, obliging mee with good words, to buy her such another; promising, that her Mistresse should not fayle to be with me the next day fol­lowing betimes, making some faire excuse (the better to colour the busi­nesse,) to goe on Pilgrimage to our Ladyes Shrine, or some other the like Visit.

Vpon this I went along with her to the Gold-smithes, and bought her a dainty fine little golden booke, curiously wrought, which her Maid had made Many l [...]e Ma [...]. [...]hes are [...]de [...] Spaine, vnder these holy pre­tences. choyse of; and it may be she had her direction from her Mistresse, as hauing had her sight of this pretty toy but lately before. Howsoeuer I am sure they went cleane away with it, for [...] could neuer after see either Mistresse, or Maid.

Now was it about three in the afternoone, and I had not yet digested the bread that lay in my stomake; I was ready to dye out of a longing desire that I had to know the occasion, and to search out the true reason of the last nights passage, and whether it were a matter of earnest, or a tricke put vpon mee? And so putting this affront out of minde, as if there had neuer beene a [...]y such matter, I returned to former walke: Where I found my Mistresse looking very heauily on the matter, her countenance was s [...]d and mela [...] ­ly; and making shew, as if she had stayd there for me, sh [...] bec [...]ed vnto mee with her hand to come vnto her, putting her fore [...]riger vpon her mouth, and casting her eye behinde he [...], (as if she were as [...]ayd left some body should watch her,) she drew neere vnto the doore, and v [...]spered s [...]tly v [...]o [...], that I should goe gently on a sore to the great Church, and so I did. She takes her Mantle, and hastens after me, meeting both, as it were [...]t one instant [...] the two Quires; and she passing quite through them, went dire [...]y [Page 164] out of the Church, into the Calle de la They haue an old Tale in Spaine; That the men, to keepe their wiues from gadding abroad, did perswade them to vse Cha­pines, that they might seeme as tall & handsome as the men, and they made them of a very heauy kinde of wood. They made vse of this inuention of their Hus­bands, but made them at first hol­low within, and afterwards of Corke, to lighten the loade, & that they might be able to walke more nimbly. Couarruuias verb. Chapin. Chapineria, the street where all your womens Chapines are sold; and smiling vpon me, and intising mee vnto her, with a louely cast of her eye, she seemed to wish me to follow her. I made after her; she entred into a Merchants shop, in the Alcana: A knowne street in Toledo, where all your Mercers dwell. Of the Hebrew word Chana, to buy. Guadix sayes it is an Arabick word, of al­quina, which signifies Gaine. Couarruuias. Alcana, and I with her. There she gaue me satisfaction, vowing with a thousand oathes, that it vvas no fault of hers, and that she had no hand in that businesse. Shee fill'd my head with this winde: I beleeued her well-composed lyes, shee promised this next night to make me amends; and though she were sure to lose her life, she would not spare it, to giue me content. She made me so plyable, that shee might now worke me like Waxe. She bought some things, which came to about some hundred and fifty Royals; and when she was to pay for it, shee said vnto the Mercer; What shall I pay you weekely till this debt be out? Hee answered, Mistris, see Ware, see Money. I doe not vse to part with my Wares at this price, nor doe I sell vpon trust. If you deliuer me my money, you may carry away what you haue bought; if not, I must intreat you to pardon me.

Then I told him, Sir, This Gentle-woman is disposed to iest with you, for she has money sufficient to satisfie for a greater matter then this. I am her Purse-bearer, and the Steward of her house. So taking some Crownes out of my pocket, for to shew my greatnesse the more, I freed my selfe from base­nesse, and her from her debt: Apprehending then at that instant, that this was but a stratagem of hers, to be paid before-hand, and that shee might not be mockt withall, as it often befalleth many women; nor did I repent mee of what I had done; it seeming vnto me, that by my faire proceeding, I had bound her vnto me. Nor would I haue giuen my two imploiments of that one day, in the pursuite of these two Dames, for all the wealth of Mexico, and Peru. So I askt her, whether she would keepe true touch with me or no? And whether I might take sure hold of her promise? And at what houre I should come? She assur'd me that I might, and for the houre, she would not faile mee at ten in the night. She went home to her house, and I to intertaine the time abroad; Thinking with my selfe, that I had seazed on two preyes at one flight, and tooke two Troutes at one stroke.

At the houre appointed, I put on my old disguise, and got mee to the Mill againe. I gaue the signe agreed vpon betweene vs, which was, to strike certain strokes, with a stone vnderneath her window. But it was all one, as if I had bestow'd those blowes vpon the Bridge of Alcantara: A Bridge so cal­led in Toledo. In the yeere 1258. a great part of it was carried away with a Flood; but the yeere fol­lowing, it was repaired and new built. Alcantara.

I conceiued with my selfe, that the houre was not yet come, or that it was little more then ten of the clocke, which made mee dance attendance a little longer. And so houre after houre, I stayd waiting there, till it was twelue of the night, now and then making the wonted signes.

But what should a man spend his time in talking to Saint Iuan de los Reyes, being it is a Statua of Stone? It was but lost labour, a wearying out of my selfe in vaine, and a meere mockery. For he, whom shee termed her brother, was her Gallant, and her Sweet-hart: and did maintaine themselues by these kinde of cheating tricks, and consorted both together in all that they did.

They vvere of Cordoua, is a Noble and famous Citie in Andaluzia. Cordoua, proper in their persons, and well accommoda­ted; and amongst other yong Thrushes, that they had brought into the Net, was a young Scriuener, but newly married, who being whetted on by this Gentlewoman, and tolled on by such traines as she had cunningly laid for him, had giuen her certaine Iewels; and as she dealt with me, so did she lead him along with delayes, making him to wait vpon her pleasure, putting him to fine after fine to purchase his desire. But when he found all was coozenage and Roguery, he resolued to be reuenged on her.

That night I was quite tyred out with a tedious expectation, (as you haue already heard.) And when I was about to goe my way, [...]o, I might discerne a great troope of people making towards mee, and supposing it to bee the [Page 165] Iustice, I got me a little aside. At last I perceiued, that they knockt at that doore; I returned backe, drawing neerer and neerer, a little and a little, to see what all this company did seeke for. And one of the Alguazils (telling them within who they were) caused the doore to bee opened. When they were all gone in, I got me to the doore, that I might the better vnderstand how all things passed. The Alguazil searched all the house ouer & ouer, but could not finde that he came for. I was about to call vnto them, to looke into the Tinaja, and to haue betooke me to my heeles when I had done. But the Scriue­ner presently tooke that taske vpon him, and saued me a labour, and had a care that no corner should be left vnsearcht.

But, as these things cannot be carried so close, but that they will soone be brought to light, if they be well followed, one by chance lighted vpon a sin­gle hand Cuffe that lay vpon the ground, which at the time of the hiding of her brothers clothes, was let fall and left behinde out of haste; and because this was a businesse vndertaken for a friend, and euery one was willing to doe his best, one of the Alguazils said, This Cuffe must haue a Master, who euer it bee.

The Gentlewoman would faine haue salu'd vp this matter: but hauing prickt the Hare, these Hounds began to take a little more paines, and to hunt with more metall, in hope to haue their game. And one of the Alguazils, seeing a great Coffer there, which (as he thought) might very well containe a man, commanded it to be opened: where they found my Gallant. Whereupon, they were both will'd to put on their cloathes, and to make themselues readie; which done, they were both for companie carried to prison together. I was both contented therewith and ashamed. Contented, that it was my good hap not to be found there; and ashamed that she had gull'd me, and made a foole of me. All the remainder of that night, I could not sleepe one winke, for, thinking partly on this, and partly on that other Gentlewoman, vpon whom, I thought to make my selfe whole, I did conceit vvith my selfe, that she vvas a vvoman of another kinde of qualitie, and of a differing fashion from the former.

All that day I staid vvaiting for her, but she did not so much as send me a­ny message by her maid, nor did I knovv vvhere she liu'd, nor vvhat she vvas. You see here hovv vvell I imploi'd my paines, and my Purse vpon these tvvo, and vvhether it had not beene better for me to haue laid out my money in the buying of some fiftie young Lambes of a yeere old. I vvas novv grovvne desperate, and for my greater comfort amidst these my troubles, at night vvhen I came to my lodging, I met vvith an Alguazil there, a stranger, making inquirie for I knovv not vvhat person. Novv by this time you may imagine, in what poore case I tooke my selfe to be, and hovv the vvorld vvas like to goe with me. I will'd my seruant to tell him, that if he had any thing to say to me, he should be sure to finde me there the next morning.

In the meane-while I walked out by the Gate A gate so called in Tole­do, because the entrance there­into, is hard and difficult, it is an Arabicke word, and signifies a thorny place, and full of bushes. Couarru. del Cambron, where mu­sing, and walking, I continued almost till it was day, framing Discourses to my selfe, what, or whom it should be, that this Alguazill sought for. But when the morning was come, I thought it a safe houre to goe home, with purpose to change both my apparell and my Lodging.

But by this time, my care was secur'd; for I was not he that he looked for, as I afterwards vnderstood. I went forth to the Place of Socodouer, where I heard two Mules cri'd for to goe for Almagro, a principall Towne belonging to the Order de Calatraua. Padre Guadix would haue it come from Al­ma-agua, and of agro. Because those waters there-abouts haue a sowre taste, though they be wholsome. Others from the colour of the soyle, which is red. Vide Co­uarru. Verb. Almagre. Almagro; I was slower in the hea­ring, then the agreeing for them, or in my departing from Toledo. For euery thing there me thought smelt of Broome, and the soles of old shooes. That night I reached to A Towne in the Kingdome of Toledo, intitled with a Condeship. Tierra vmbro­sa. Guzman leaues Toledo. Orgaz the next to Malagon. But being not able, out of the feare I had taken those nights before, to take any rest, I came thither so drowzy, and so sleepy, that I was not able to hold vp my head: But another [Page 166] new occasion did awaken me, and made me to rowze vp my spirits; which was; That as soone as I was entred into my Lodging, there came to take charge of my clothes, and such other things as I brought in with me, a young Wench, seeming to be something more then a seruant, and yet some-what lesse then a daughter; She had a good face of her owne, a hansome feature, a pleasant behauiour, and had both wit and tongue at will. Which sort of creatures, (to draw both custome and credit to such kinde of houses) your honest Inne-holders will be sure to lay wait for, and seldome or neuer shall you see them vnprouided of such pretty Commodities to welcome, and cheere vp their Guests. I talkt to her, and she answered mee; I could not spurre her that question, whereunto she did not kicke me an answer. One discourse drew on another, and we continued our conuersation so farre forth, A pleasant iest, that past betw [...]t Guzman and a pretie Wench at the Inne in Malagon. that she consented vnto me, and had peremptorily giuen me her promise, that she would come and passe away the time with me, when her Master and Mi­stresse were gone to bed and asleepe. She couered the boord; I gaue her the brawne of the Capon. I dranke a Health to her, and shee did pledge me; I would haue held her fast by the arme; she flies off; I seeking to catch hold of her, and she to get away from me: reaching at her, I fell downe vpon th'one side to the ground. The Chaire was of Wood, and had some turn'd pieces in it rib-wise, it tooke me iust athwart the midst of my body; whereby I recei­ued a shrewd blow. And it was a faire gift of God, that it was not farre worse; for if the Dagger that I had at my backe, had by chance falne out of the sheathe, and pitcht with the Pommell on the ground, and the point haue beene vpward, and had lighted betweene one of those barres or ribbs in the Chaire, a thousand pound to a pennie, but that I had beene slaine out-right in the place; and so there being an end of me, my Creditours had beene paid. When I was vp, and all was well, I put the question againe vnto her, whether I should depend vpon her comming? She told me I should see, whether she meant to faile me or no? Vttering some other idle foolish speeches, and so went her waies.

You haue heard already how ill I past those nights before; which made me now so heauy-headed, that it was impossible, that I should any longer beare vp, and abstaine from sleeping. But I was desirous to rise betimes, whether I slept or no. And therefore I will'd my seruants, that they should get them straw and Barley, so much as our Mules were to be allowed the next mor­ning, and that they should bring it, and put it in the chamber where I lay. Which being done, hauing set it neere vnto the doore, they pull'd it after them, & leauing it vnshut, they went to bed. And albeit sleep would faine haue seazed vpon me, yet my desire kept me waking; but not being able to hold out any longer, I was forced to yeeld my selfe vnder the arrest of Morpheus his Mace, in whose silken bands I was fast, though softly bound.

About mid-night a little she-Asse had slipt her halter in the Stable, and got loose (if she were not left loose before, as I verily perswade my selfe it was mine Hosts, and went about the house to seeke her Prouant;) This Asse came to my lodging, and hauing smelt out the Barley, the little foole thrust in her head, thinking to haue met with a good mouth-full, and in pressing to come where the Prouender was in the Sieue, she wagged, and wagg'd, this way, and that way, and striuing to get in, the doore began to creake, I that was mindfull of the businesse, a little thing would suffice to reuiue my remem­brance: And now I was fully perswaded, that I had the Bulls sure enough in the Place, and that they could by no meanes get from me. And because I was all this while very sleepie, and scarce halfe awake, I imagined with my selfe, that she could not finde the way to the bed, whereupon I raised my selfe, and sitting vp in my bed, I call'd her vnto me. When the Asse heard my voice, she was afraid; and stood still, saue only that she did put one of her [Page 167] fore-feet in the fraile wherein the straw was. I thinking that it was the Wench, and that she had stumbled by chance vpon it, leapt out of my bed, and said vnto her, Come hither, my Loue, come to bed, giue me thy hand. And because she should reach me, I stretcht out my body at large vnto her, and lifting vp my legge, I hit her with my knee on the snout; with that shee lifted vp her head, and smote me such a blow with hers on the noddle, that she almost set me on my breech; so much was I astonied therewith. And when she had done, she fled away from me, as fast as her legges would giue her leaue. For if she had staid, I should haue had much adoe (considering the paine I was in) to haue forborne to thrust my Dagger vp to the hilts in her guttes.

I bled mainly, both at mouth and nose; and cursing Loue, and all his cun­ning tricks to the pit of hell; I knew, that all this hapned deseruedly vnto me; because, being a wilde simple Ladde as I was, I was so easie of beliefe. But I quickly made fast my doore, and got me to bed.

CHAP. IX.

AS if Loue had not beene a desire of Immortalitie, bred in an idle minde; without any beginning of Reason, without any sub­iection to Law, which is entertained by the Will; but with it, cannot not be put off; easie in it's entrance to the heart, but hard to be thrust out againe; I began to sweare, that I would neuer more follow his colours, nor be of his Company. But I was asleepe when I made this protestation, and knew not what I said. My sleepinesse was so great then at that time, that all my paine could not keepe me waking.

Which drowzinesse of mine was the cause, that I could not rise so early as I thought, but kept my bed till nine of the clocke that morning. At which houre comes me in this my [...]iddle-faddle of the Inne, to giue me satisfaction, vowing and swearing vnto me, that she lay within her Master and Mistris, and that they had shut her vp, and kept the key themselues, that she could by no meanes get forth: Though for mine owne part, I did verily beleeue, that she did purposely play the Wag with me, and had neuer any such meaning, but did lie in all that she said. Whereupon I told her; O friend Luçia, your loue hath done me a great deale of hurt: it began in the Chaire, and ended in the saddle. I shall looke hereafter a little better to your water. Take me with that fault againe, and I will giue you leaue to hang me. Goe about your bu­sinesse, goe, I haue no more to say to you. Make haste, and bring in break-fast, for I will presently be gone. So she rosted vs out of hand a brace of Partridge, serued in with a slice or two of Bacon, which serued both for our breake-fast, and our dinner, because the day was farre spent, and our iourney but short.

Well, I was now vpon going, my Mules were ready, and staid for my comming. The The Spanish word, is Mo [...] ­na. To wit, a Mule that is be­gotten of an Horse, and a she Asse, commonly with a blacke Muzzle, a sw [...] ­ling nostrill, and hauing [...]sh trick [...]. Mule that I rode on, was an ill-condition'd Iade, and somewhat skittish. When I was readie to put foot in the stirrop, I got me vp vpon a bench, thinking from thence to get with the greater ease into my Sad­dle; but by her going backe, she seemed to tell me, that I should not doe it [Page 168] so easily as I thought; or else her meaning was, that I should quickly get mee thence, or else shee would set mee going with a vvitnesse. And because she could not speake my language, that she might make me vnderstand her by signes, ierking out her hinder legges, she flings me out her heeles, and dou­bling her fyles, with two kicks, that she made at me, she threw mee a good wayes from her: But she did me no harme, for I recouered my selfe by and by, and got vp vpon my legges. After this, I was a little more wary, and tooke better heed. And with a-loud voice I beganne to cry out: There is not any female (I thinke) in this Inne, euen to the very Mules, which hath not her iadish tricks.

Well, I was seated in my Saddle, and my Mule was quiet, and being vpon the way, (seeing what mis-fortunes I had suffered) I acquainted my seruants what had hapned vnto me, with the Asse that came into my Chamber. They laught exceedingly, as if they would haue burst their hearts, and the more, at my weake and childish vnderstanding, that I would giue credit to a Wench in an Inne, who are neuer good, but at their first comming, and euer after proue arrant Iades, that a man can not tell how to trust to them.

We had now gone two long Leagues, and the Boy that went a-foote by vs to looke vnto our Mules, would needs drinke. I call'd, Bring hither the The Spanish word is, Bota: Quasi imbuta, of the Latine word, imbuo, de in and Bibo. It is made of a Goats-skinne, the mouth of it being Horne, with a stopple to it, and the sules strongly sowne & Rozend within, that it may n [...]t leake. Your Trauellers on the way ne­uer goe without one, by reason the countrey is so hot, which causeth much thirst. Bottle, giue me the Bottle: but no Bottle appeares; for wee had left it be­hinde vs. Peraduenture mine Hostesse (said the Boy) hath seazed vpon it, and laid it aside in waggery, because we might ride the lighter, or be paid for her care in keeping it safe for vs.

Nay (quoth my Page) I rather beleeue, that they amongst them haue stolne it from vs, for to adde more fame to this towne, that they may not lose that good name they haue gotten.

Then was I very desirous to know, how this bad report came first to bee raised, and whence it grew. And because they that vse to carry Merchandize from place to place, and trauell often on the way, and now and then heare di­uers men discourse of such things as these; I thought with my selfe, I were best to aske the reason of it of our Foot-man, imagining he (if any man) could best informe vs of it.

Therevpon I call'd vnto him, and said; Friend Andres; Since thou hast beene a piece of a Scholler, a Wane-man, and now a Moço de Mulas, one that Lackey'st along with Mules, and lookest vnto them, I prethee tell mee (if happely thou hast heard of it) how this Towne came to haue this ill name, and wherefore it is commonly said as a by-word, or by way of a Prouerbe in euery mans mouth: En Malagon, cn cada c [...]sa, ay vn ladron: y [...]n la del Alcal­de, hijo, y padre. Euery house in Malagon hath a thiefe of his owne: And in A Spanish Prouerbe. that of the Alcalde, there are twaine; the father, and the Sonne, both knaues in graine.

The Muleter made answere, saying, Sir, your Worship askes me of a thing, which I haue been told of diuers times, and that diuers wayes, euery one fol­lowing his owne opinion: Which if I should recount them all vnto you, the way too is short & the Story too long, and the desire that I haue to drink, be­yond them both. For I am so dry, that I am scarce able to speake a word. But be it as it may bee, I will doe my best to satisfie your longing. Laying that therefore aside, which hath no colour nor shadow of truth, and conforming my selfe according to the opinion of some, of whom I haue heard it; vpon whose iudgement, I ground mine, as more agreeable vnto reason: For in that, for which we haue no naturall reason, nor by tradition left vnto vs in writing, when time shal haue buried these things, a good & a sound iudgment must be the Law, which we must obey, and where-vnto wee ought to con­forme our selues. And so this had it's beginning, (which is now long since, time out of minde) in this manner, as I shall now deliuer vnto you.

[Page 169] In the yeere of our Lord, 1236. King Don Fernando, sur-named the Holy, The story concer­ning the occasion of this prouerbe, En Malagon &c. raigning in Castilla, and Leon, who gained Seuill, the second yeere after the death of King Don Alfonso his father, stayd one day at dinner in Benauente, is a towne in the Kingdome of Leon. There is a Land of that name. Bena­uente, where he receiued newes, that the Christians had entred the Citie of Cordoua; and had made themselues Masters of the Towers and Castles be­longing to the Suburbs, which they call Axarquia, the suburbs ad­ioyning to Cor­doua. Padre Guadix saies, it is so called, because it stands towards the East which is termed in the Arab [...]ck tongue, Xarquia Axarquia, together vvith that gate and the wall. And for that the Moores were many, and the Christians few, they were driuen to great necessities for want of succour.

The like aduice was dispatcht by Post, to Don Aluar Perez de Castro, who was in Martos, a sa­mous towne in Andaluzia, an­tiently called, Tucci, and Au­gusta Gemella. Couarruuias. Martos, and to Don Ordonno Aluarez, principall Gen­tlemen of Castile, men of great power and strength, and to many o­ther persons, to giue them their best aide and assistance. Euery one of these, that had notice of it, presently raised Forces, and hasted thither with all the speed they could; the King likewise marched forward on his way, without any delay, or protraction at all; albeit, that this newes was brought vnto him, on the 28. of Ianuary, and that the season was very bad, and painefull to tra­uell, by reason of the great Snowes, and the extreme coldnesse of the weather. But nothing could hinder him from this his designe, for hee hasted away to their succour, leauing order that the rest of his Army should follow him, car­rying no more along with him to attend his person, then a hundred Gentle­men of good quality.

The King had likewise giuen order to all Cities, Townes, & other places, that were able to afford ayde, to send their Souldiers to those Frontiers and Borders, whither he himselfe was to goe: Great store of raine fell, the Ri­uers and other Foords, by which they were to passe, were so mightily risen, that his men were not able to goe forward.

There met together at that time in Malagon a great multitude of Souldi­ers sent from diuers and sundry parts, beeing in number so many, that though that place were very well peopled, and of great receipt, being one of the best Townes in all that quarter; yet in euery house there was lodged one Souldier at the least; and in some, two, or three.

The Alcalde did lodge one of the Captaines of a Company, and a sonne of his, that he brought along with him, and was his Alferez, is he to whom the Captaine recom­mends his En­signe, that he may gather his Com­pany together, & bring them all to their rende­uous. The Cap­taine should cary the Ancient. But by reason of his diuers imploy­ments, he substi­tutes one in his place, whom they call Alferez, who is subordi­nate vnto him & stirs notwithout his direction. And all that are vnder that Ensine are to sollow [...] Colours. And therefore they haue this varietie of names, a [...] Sig­niferos, Vexi­liferos, Primi­pila [...]ios, duces, &c. Couarru­uias pag. 44. Alferez. Their prouisi­on grew short, the wayes bad, there was no comming to Market; so that for want of reliefe, euery one suffered necessitie, euery one was put to his shifts, and not a man amongst them, but sought to maintaine and preserue his life by filching and stealing, robbing heere and there; whence, or from whom it made no matter all vvas one to them: Life was sweet: Let others hang and starue; so as they had where-withall, all was well.

A conceited Clowne of that very Place, a shrewd witty fellow for a plaine Husband-man, departed thence, to goe to Toledo: And meeting in Orgaz with a braue troope of Gentlemen, they demanded of him, whence he was? Hee answered; Of Malagon. They further askt him, What's the newes there? He told them; Gentlemen, all the newes in Malagon, is; In euery house, a thiefe; and in the Alcaldes, two; the sonne, and the father.

And this was the true Originall of that false report, which men put vpon that Towne, as not knowing any other certaine ground, whence this brute should be raised; and is now, in these our times, a notorious wrong done vnto them, as being a fault whereof they are not guilty, and yet are most vn­iustly charged therewith. For in all this way, that we haue come and gone, or vvhither so euer else it shall be your hap to trauell, I doubt me, you will hard­ly finde either better intertainment (I meane for Innes) or more ciuill and better behau'd people (taking euery man according to his condition and breeding,) then are in this towne. Yet, Sir, withall, I could likewise tell you, of many notable thefts, and very famous ones, that haue been committed in Malagon.

[Page 170] Whilst we were thus discoursing on the way to passe away the time, and make our iourney seeme the easier, I lighted on a Traueller, of whom I learn'd, That in Almagro, I should meet with a Company of Souldiers. Whereof ha­uing throughly inform'd my selfe, and well assured of their being there, I was vvonderfull glad of it; for this vvas the onely thing that I did desire, and seeke after for to cast off all care, and to giue a farewell to all my former troubles.

In my comming into the Towne, I was no sooner entred, but I might per­ceiue in the High-street a Banner, hanging out at a Window; I past along by it, Guzman comes to Almagro. and vvent to lodge at one of the Innes there in the Market-place, where I supt betimes, and got me quickly to bed, that I might recouer some of my lost sleepes, and repaire the wrongs of so many ill-passed nights, as I had lately indured.

Mine Host, and those his Guests that he had in the house, seeing me come in so vvell accommodated, and so well waited on, made inquirie of my ser­uants, who I was. And they, (as not knowing any thing, but what they heard from my selfe) told them; That my name was Don Iuan de Guzman: Guzman takes on him a feigned name. Sonne to a principall Gentleman of the house of Toral. On the morning ve­ry early, my Page brought me my cloathes; I put them on, setting my selfe forth in all my brauest gallantry, and after that I had beene abroad and heard Masse, I went to visit the Captaine, telling him, that I was come in search of him, to tender my seruice vnto him. He receiu'd me with a great deale of courtesie, and with a cheerefull looke; which vvas no more then my respect vnto him might challenge; besides, the good fashion, that I came to him in, and the moneys, which I brought along with mee in my purse, (which were little lesse then a thousand Royals) might merit some respect, for the rest of the birds were flowne, and like Noahs Crow, were neuer to Guzman en­tertained by the Captaine for a Souldier, and in what he did ex­ercise himselfe. returne againe; they were spent and gone in gay cloathes, in courting of Wen­ches, and in good-fellowship vpon the way. He admitted me into his owne Squadron, made me sit and eare with him at his owne Table, vsing me euer­more with much loue and kindnesse.

In requitall whereof, I began to Regalar: Is to afford a man all the delights and dainties that are to bee had for loue, or money. The word is de­riued à Rege: That is, so much that a King can not desire more. Guzman pos­seth not for a Souldier, as being vnder age. Regalar him, and to serue him; pre­senting him still with one thing or other, inlarging my hand like a Prince, as if I had for euery A Spanish Prouerb. Tuesday a new payre of eares; or were sure to meet (where­soeuer I came) vvith another Grocer, another Riuer, and another Groue of Trees, wherein to hide my selfe. So fast did I spend my money without feare or vvit, threw it away with so prodigall a hand, taking ames-Ace against se­uen, and deux-Ace, against eleuen; I did so often visit the Drum-head, that at last, getting little, and losing much, I was almost quite blowne vp.

In these kinde of intertainments did I consume my selfe, and my time, till we vvere to march away: And for to fill vp the Company, vve were all of vs put into a Church, vvhence we came forth one by one, and when they came to call me, the Pay-Master lookt vpon me, in vvhose eye I seemed some­what too yong, insomuch that he durst not inroll me amongst the rest, accor­ding to the instructions that were giuen him. Whereat I grew exceeding an­gry, and was so inflamed with choller, that I had much adoe to containe my selfe, but was ready to breake forth into passion, and to haue lasht out into some liberty of language, whereof afterwards I might haue repented my selfe; because it might haue forced me to vtter that, which would not haue vvell beseemed me, nor indeed had beene lawfull for mee to vent, considering the time, and place.

O what good cloathes can doe! I knew the time, when men would kicke Good cloathes put a man i [...] heart. me, and cuffe me about the cares, and could be content to hang my head in my bosome, hold my peace, and take all patiently. But now I made reckning, as if all heauen had layne at the stake, of that which to speake of, [Page 171] was not worth a straw, waxing mad with anger. Then I began to know by Anger, and it's euill effects mine owne experience that no Wine can make a man so drunke, as the first fit of anger. And it much more blindeth the vnderstanding, not leauing it a­ny the least light of reason. And if that heat should not presently passe away, I know not what fiercenesse or brutishnesse may be compared to this furie of ours. I did quickly quench this flame, and my Hat being come againe to his colour, and my choller pacifi'd, I said vnto him, Sir, you that are Pay-Master, my yeeres (I confesse) are few, but my courage as great as any mans. It is the heart that commands, and this arme knowes how to brandish a blade, there is bloud and marrow enough in it, for to vndertake great matters.

Hee answered mee very grauely and wisely, It may bee so, Sir, and I doe verily beleeue it, and with much more willingnesse, then your selfe can speake it: but the Order that I haue giuen me in charge is thus and thus, wherein if I should exceed my Commission, my Purse must soundly pay for it. No body shall smart for it, but my selfe. I knew not what to replie to so faire an Answer, though the bloud that boyled in my brest, and the colour that shew'd it selfe in my cheekes, could not so easily be alaid, till my choller were a little better settled. My captaine was very sensible of this affront of mine, and tooke it as tenderly as if the case had beene his owne.

For being quitted of my place, he was perswaded I should then presently forsake his Companie. And taking part with me against the Pay-Master, hee was somewhat round with him, insomuch, that neither of them hauing the patience to beare one with another, they grew to high words, and much a­doe there was.

This storme was laid the Sea had done roaring, their strife was ended, and the Company was fully made vp. The Captaine came to visit me at my lod­ging; telling me in braue and gallant tearmes, how much this griefe of mine did t [...]ouble him, and how sorrie he was for my heauinesse; and with honou­rable both words and promises, he gaue me that good satisfaction, that I rested very well contented. Such force hath Eloquence, that as horses suffer Eloquence preuai­leth much. themselues to be ruled with good Bridles and bitts; so the fierce rage, and chollericke humours of men, are bridled and gouerned by mannerly reasons, and are brought to winde and turne their head-strong wils, changing their violent resolutions, being easily reduced in the end to a settled pace, and are well content to goe forward faire and softly on their way.

Whereupon, albeit I was resolued to leaue him, yet notwithstanding his words were so powerfull with me, that he stopt me in my course, and sud­denly tooke me vp, when I was in the heat and height of my Carreere. Wee continued in this kinde of conuersation a prètie while, and a great deale of good talke we had together; And if it be not dangerous to speake the truth, (for feare of being called in question) we did murmure and mutine at the small reckning, and slight acknowledgement of Soldiers, and men of true A dipressum a­gainst bad Mini­ [...]s, touching Martiall men. worth and valour, and the base esteeme that was made of militarie disci­pline and profession of Armes; then did we raile at the slight remuneration of Seruices, and with how little truth some Ministers did informe the State thereof, for their owne proper ends: How things are quite out of order, and vtterly miscarrie, because businesses are not well carried, & are not in a course, that should direct them to a good end, euery man tending his particular pro­fit, preferring priuate, before publike good.

And though such a one know, that another man, with a very good zeale and loue to his Countrie, doth gouerne his Armie well, and lead them on brauely, he wrests all h [...]s good seruices to the worst sence, and seekes to ouer­throw his well-deserued reputation, laying Nets to intrap him, that he may be the only Commander, ioyning with his enemies, and falling crosse with [Page 172] his friends, that he may bring the dance before his owne doore, and raise him­selfe by the others ruine, proposing to himselfe, by this preposterous dealing, to put himselfe into a better fortune.

And to effect this his vnruly desire, he will seeke out a thousand fetches, and as many winding Pipes will he lay before hand, to bring the water to his owne Conduict. He would make himselfe like vnto the highest, and place his throne in the North, and suffer no man to sit by him, or to be his equall. Such men as these exercise their voice only in the seruice of the King, not sticking to crie out, This and this will make much for his Maiesties seruice; but their workes, and their actions, are directed to their owne good. Like vnto that day-labourer, who lifts vp his armes to heauen, but strikes his Mattocke into the ground. These make warres at their pleasure, breake Leagues when they list, failing in their Obligation, ruining the Common­wealth, robbing men of their Estates, and in the end damning their owne soules.

How many errors haue beene committed? How many braue Commanders lost? how many Armies vtterly ouerthrowne? the fault whereof is laid vpon him, that doth least deserue the blame. And the sole cause of this is, because these men will forsooth haue it so, that this ill shall make for their good. For if things should succeed well, why then it should goe ill with them.

This is the common course now adaies, and this makes The Spanish phrase is, Se po­ne de lodo. Now Poner lo de lodo, e [...], estragar, O er­rar el negoçio. all out of ioynt, and causes such confusion in the world. Will you see (Sir) to what poore passe our ill fortune hath brought vs, that those braue cloathes, gallant Feathers, and glorious colours; things that put life and spirit into a Soldiers heart, to make him venture couragiously vpon all difficulties, to hew out his way with his Sword, and to vndertake any braue and noble enterprize, in seeing vs thus adorned, we are disgraced in Spaine, our Habit scorned, and our selues flouted at? Thinking for sooth that we must walke the streets in blacke, like a com­panie of Soliciters, or like some Seruitour, or poore Scholler, that waites vpon another, and hath not a Gowne to his backe to hide his pittifull raggs, or to couer our totterd cloathes, (as your Students vse to doe) with blacke foot­cloathes, that the old rotten Saddle vnderneath may not be seene.

Now are we quite downe the winde, and neuer so much as now; For those that should most honour vs, doe least fauour vs. The only bare name of a Spani­ard, which heretofore did affright the enemie, & with the reputation of that one word, made the whole world to tremble; now (for our sinnes-sake) the glorie of that is in a manner lost and gone. And we are so falne off from what we were, that we are not able to doe that now with our swords, which before we might haue carried with our words. Yet such as wee haue beene, we are, and shall be still. It is God, that must make vs to acknowledge these our errours, and that must worke amendment in those that are the cause thereof; going (in that course wherein now they runne) against their King, against the Lawes of the Land, against their Countrie, and against them­selues.

I need not (Sennor Don Iuan) to produce any other witnesse, then the pre­sent times, for the truth of what I haue spoken, and to proue vnto you, that the maine cause of all your great mischiefes in a State, is a Fauorites inward­nesse with his King, suffring no man to Priuar, or to be able to doe any thing but himselfe, led on with the greedinesse of his owne priuate gaine. From this his ill-imployd Greatnesse, groweth hatred; from hatred, enuie; from enuie, dissention; and from dissention, euill order: from whence you may inferre those other inconueniences, that may follow thereupon. Let it not trouble you, Sir, that we are now to march hence. In Italie, you shall finde another kinde of world; and here I passe my word vnto you, that I will make you an Ancient. Which albeit, it be a meaner place, then your merits [Page 173] may challenge, yet it may serue as a step to aduance you higher. I gaue him many thankes for this his friendly offer. We tooke our leaues, hee was very desirous to goe home alone, I earnestly intreated him, that I might waite vp­on him to his Lodging but he would by no meanes consent thereunto. The next day following the Companie marched away without any stay, till they came neere vnto the Sea-coast; (the Captaine spending liberally vpon my Purse.) We staid waiting there for the comming of the Gallies, but three mo­neths were almost spent before we could haue any newes of them. In which time, and that which was already past, my Purse had spit his venome, and my rents began to faile me. My continuance at play, did likewise put a helping hand to my speedier dispatch; so that I was now quite out of Cash, and all my money was gone; not all in one day, but all, at all these seuerall times. I was (as your old prattling Gossips vse to say) reduced backe againe to my former state, and might walke (as I did before) with a white Cudgell vnder mine arme. How much did I then risent my former follies? How angrie was I Guzmans mo­ney is all ge [...], and now begins to lamentins follie. Good Instructi­ons for young men. growne with my selfe? What amendment did I propose vnto my selfe, now that I had not so much as one single pennie left me in my Purse? How many shifts did I vse to conserue my selfe, when I did not know against what tree to leane? Who forced me to fall in loue without discretion? Who made me turne Gallant, without moderation? Who taught me to spend without gouern­ment? To what end was I so free in my play, so franke in my Lodging? and so prodigall with my Captaine? Quanto se halla trasero, quien ensilla muy delan­tero? Spanish Prouerb. How often is he cast behinde, that is first in the Saddle? What a shame is it for a man to follow his delights? What a basenesse, to be captiuated by his pleasures? I was readie to run besides my selfe, and was almost out of my lit­tle wits, that when I had put my selfe in so good a Predicament, I could not hold me there, and keepe my selfe well, while it was well with me.

Now, in regard as well of my youth, as these my youthfull vanities, I was no more esteemed, or respected of any. The friends that I had in my prospe­ritie, the free table that I kept with the Captaine, the Alferez place, and the ensigne, that he told me he would bestow vpon me, it seemed, that they were all strooken with a sudden lightening, which had burnt and consum'd them. They past as an arrow, that makes his quick-feathered-flight thorow the aire; like a Thunder-bolt, that strikes to death, before it be discerned; or to the twinkling of the eye, which opens and shuts in an instant.

When my moneyes fell short, all fell-away from me: as long as I had that, I had them; That gone, they shooke hands with me, and bid me farewell. Thus by little and little, piece after piece, all my ornaments were taken off, and poore Don Iuan de Guzman was degraded. I was like that Obispillo de San Prouerb. Nicholas, that prettie little Bishop St. Nicholas, respected only for his Holy­day; and so I, while I had money in my Purse, and no longer.

Those that heretofore did me honour, did visit me, did entertaine me, came to feast and banquet with me, the heart-strings of my Purse being broken, they forsooke me, as being no man of this world; Not a man that would talke with me, or conderse with me. And not only so, but they would not so much as vouchsafe to looke vpon me, or once suffer me to come in their com­pany. The perfume that did once smell sweet, doth now stinke in their noses. They that knew not before how to be vnkinde, doe now take all things in snuffe. And I that honoured them, am requited by them with dishonour, and all because I am become poore. And as if pouertie had beene a great and heynous offence, I was consigned ouer to the Secular power. My dealing and conuersation was wholly now with the straggling Boyes about the Campe, such as carried Wallets and Knap-sacks for the Soldiers, and on this had I now set vp my rest. And it is good Iustice, Que quien tal haze, que assi [...]o Prouerb. pague. As a man Brewes, so let him bake.

CHAPTER X.

HOw bitter vvas it vnto me to beginne; how troublesome to goe on; how grieuous to indure this new dis-aduen­ture? Misfortunes, are burthens that are hard to be borne. But I had been vvell acquainted heretofore vvith these kinde of mis-fortunes, and had learned them long since to my great cost. And because these things were not new vnto me, I presently fell to my vvorke, and liuely bestir'd my selfe about my businesse. And I can assure you, it is a great happinesse for a man to sute himselfe to all occasions, and to know how to turne his hand to all kinde of labour, not relying on these tran­sitory goods of the world, which like Buckets in a Well, are now full, and then empty; and no sooner vp, but they are downe againe.

But this one thing was my chiefe comfort, That in the time of my Pro­speritie, I gained credit against the day of Aduersitie. And I did not count it my least riches, seeing I was to become poore, that I had left a stampe & im­pression in all mens minds, that I vvas of a noble and free disposition, by those my former actions, vvhich were able to speake themselues, though my selfe should be silent.

My Captaine made some reckoning of me acknowledging the courtesies, that I had vsed towards him, & vvas more vvilling, then able to help me. For (poore man) he had scarce inough to serue his owne turne. But he conseru'd me at least in that buen punto and good esteeme, which he had at his first know­ledge of me, anon after that we vvere acquainted, bearing a kinde of respect to the house whereof I came, and to those my supposed Parents.

I vvas inforced to stripp my selfe; and laying aside all my gallantry, I began to cloath my selfe againe in a meaner and poorer fashion, and to put on that rich (though vn-regarded) Roabe of Humilitie, which I did not thinke on in my brauery, and scorned (as a thing of nought) vvhen I vvas flush, and full of money:

Considering vvith my selfe that Vanitie and Necessitie could not vvell sute together. And that one Chaire was not able to hold them both. For the rich man, if he braue it, he is to be borne withall, for he hath where-withall. But that a poore man should be so vaine, is to be but like the Cameleon; who, what­soeuer he drawes and sucks into him, is but ayre, without substance. And The rich man that is vaine, and the poore man that is proud, both con­demned. Guzman sets himselfe to serue [...] Captaine. therefore, as the rich man that is vaine, ought to be abhorred; So the poore man that is proud, is not to be indured: It is insupportable in the one, and scan­dalous in the other.

I saw, that I was not able to liue of my selfe, and therefore got to serue my Captaine, making him now my Master, vvho but a little before vvas my Companion. And I waited on him with that care, as I did on the Cooke. Howbeit, he commanded me with a kinde of respect, as considering who I vvas and that my excesses, my childishnesse, and ill-gouerned Youth, had brought me to this low ebbe, that I vvas driuen to serue him. And hee did thus farre assure himselfe of me, that I vvould not doe any thing vnwor­thy a Gentleman, and vn-beseeming my birth and Parentage for any interest in the world. What a man should doe, that would rise by his seruice.

He held me to be as faithfull, and as secret, as I was patient. Hee made me Treasurer of all his secrets; for which affiance I alwayes shew'd my selfe [Page 175] thankefull vnto him. Hee manifested his necessities, and made knowne his vvants vnto me, and what he had spent in his pretensions; besides, the pro­lixe time, and the excessiue trauell and paines, whereby hee at last obtained them; as by intreating, bribing, flattering, seruing, attending, crouching, creeping, making of legges, bowing the head to the ground, with cap in hand, and a quicke and nimble pace, trotting vp and downe the streets from mor­ning to night; early, and late, without intermission.

I remember he told me, That going out of the Palace with the Kings Fa­uourite, A trick of a proud Courtier. because he put on his Hat, whilest he was entring into his Coach, he lookt vpon him, as if he would haue eaten him; and shortly after, gaue him to vnderstand as much, by delaying his dispatch, making him daunce attendance at Court many a faire day, till he thought hee had sufficiently pu­nished both his Purse, & his Patience. It shall euer be in my Letany, Good Lord deliuer vs, when Power and Malice meet.

It is a miserable thing, and much to be pittied, that such an Idoll as one of these, should affect particular adoration; not considering, that he is but a man, a representant, a poore kinde of Comedian, that acts his part vpon the Stage of this World, and comes forth with this or that Office, thus and thus attended, or at least resembling such a person, and that when the play is done, (which can not be long) he must presently enter into the Tyring-house of the graue, and be turned to dust and ashes, as one of the sonnes of the Earth, which is the common Mother of vs all.

Behold (brother) and see the Enterlude of our life is ended; our dis­guizes laid aside; and thou art as I; I, as thou; and all of vs as one another. Some doe so strut and stretch out their bodies, and are swolne so bigge vvith the puffing winde of pride, as if they were able to swallow the whole Sea in­to their bellie. They sport, and play, and follow their pleasures, as if their a­boade on earth, were to be eternall. They set themselues aloft, and in-throane themselues on high, as if they would get them out of Deaths reach, and that it should not be in his power to tumble them downe. Blessed bee God, that there is a God. And blessed be his mercy, that he hath prouided one equall day of Iustice for vs all.

I did much grieue at my Captaines pouerty, because I did not know how to remedy it. And by how much the more is the vvant and necessitie of Want in a great person, is a thing that moueth much compas­sion. him that is Noble, by so much the more doth the poore man pitie it, then the rich. He had some Iewels left, vvhich he might sell, if need vvere, but those were things to doe him honour; and being that he was vpon his depar­ture, ready to imbarke himselfe, where he should haue occasion to vse them, it went against the very heart of him, to marre much, to mend a little.

Now, while these Gallies were so slow in comming, wee vvere faine in the meane while to goe from one towne to another, to quarter our selues with the best conueniency we could. By that confession, which my Master had made vnto me, I vnderstood his minde, and the end wherefore he did it.

I told him, Sir, I know by good experience, both good and bad fortune; prosperitie, and aduersitie, and wot well what they are.

In my yonger yeeres I haue trauelled farre and neere, and haue seen some­what of the world. I shall to the vttermost of my power expresse that loy­altie & faithfulnes which I owe vnto my Master, and to the Stock vvhereof I come.

Take you, Sir, no care, assuring your selfe, that I will hazzard my life in your seruice, and will so order the businesse (till better times shall befriend vs) that for the present, you shall passe ouer the trouble you now are in, with a great deale more ease. Thus did I take a taske vpon mee, that was farre greater then my strength or wit could promise.

From that time forward, I did in this Office that I had vndertaken, [Page 176] performe things of admiration, and such as vvere beyond beliefe.

In euery place, where vve were to lodge our Souldiers, I had gotten a doozen The Span [...]sh word, is Bol [...]ta. i. Scedula, quae [...]abatur [...] in belio, v [...] proper [...]nt ad hospitium. Dicitur autem Buleta, quasi Bula peque [...] ­na; à [...] Bulet [...] Et [...]rat Scrip­tura breuis mandato [...]a, qualis est bulla [...]. [...]uzmans cun­ning, wh [...] hee seru'd the Cap­taine. Billets, vvhereof the least affoorded no lesse then twelue Royals, and some did contribute fifty. My entrance was free into all those houses, where nothing was safe from my hands, no not so much as the vvater that was in their Wels.

I neuer suffered my Master to be without a Hen, a Chicken, a Capon, or a Pidgeon, both at dinner and supper, and a vvhole Gammon of Bacon euery Sunday boyl'd in Wine. Neuer did I reserue any thing for my selfe of all these booties that I made. But looke vvhatsoeuer I got, I put it all into his hands.

If by chance the Master of the house should take mee napping, if it vvere of small value, it vvas passed ouer as a thing of nothing, and accounted onely a waggish tricke; but if it were of any moment, my punishment was, to be brought by my Master before him that had complained of me, and cau­sing my hands to be bound, with the thinne sole of a shoo hee vvould giue me my payment; which being of a hollow kinde of graine, it sounded loud, but did smart but little; the noise vvas more then the paine. Sometimes I should haue the lucke to get me Sureties, that should passe their word for me, that I should not doe so any more, and then I vvas pardon'd. But though they should chance to faile me, the chastisement vvas not rigorous, it did not raise any Wheal [...]s or Blisters, nor left any marke of the stripes vpon my body. And because I knew, they vvere giuen mee more for fashion sake, then any ill vvill; and rather to satisfie others, then to hurt me, be­fore euer the blow came neere mee, I would cry out, as if I had beene ki [...]; and set out such a throat, as if I would hauerent the very walles of the house asunder.

Thus did my Master and I giue good satisfaction; he▪ by complying with his obligation; and I by supplying of his necessities: By killing first his hun­ger, and afterwards by g [...]uing life to his Honour.

I would so [...]times get me out into the High-wayes, and seyze vpon all so [...]ts of [...]; then would I seeme to shew them the fauour of the Schoole, in s [...]lling them their owne againe; in-dearing to the owners of them, that it cost me thus and thus much out of mine owne purse, to get these their goods to be returned vnto them, so that I had both money, and thankes for my paines.

Those commodities which wee lighted on in the Villages where wee lay, those that vvere able, might chance to see them againe, and redeeme them for their money; but those that had not where-withall, their goods were in­uisible, not a ragge to be seen [...]; they that had taken them from them, were [...] and gone, and no more newes to be heard of them. At the Musters, when the Muster-master was to see if the Company were full, I would thrust in a­mongst the Souldiers fiue or sixe yong fellowes of the Towne, well appointed, and made them to passe. Sometimes I would so handle the matter, that put­ting one single man into the Church, vp aboue in the Charnell house that is made for dead mens bones, fiue times one after another, I receiued fiue paye [...] And for him, that was to come last, I would clap a plaister vpon his nose, that he might not be knowne. And euery seuerall time, I did change his cloathes, because my knauery should not be found out, and my tricke discouered.

With these Gigs, & other the like gulleries, mine own person was as good as foure mens payes. My Master lou [...]d me as his life for these good seruices that I did him, but he was a great spender; and therefore both this, and all besides that I coul [...] doe for him, was all too little.

When we were come to The chi [...]e C [...] in Cata­lu [...]na, founded 230. y [...]res be­fore the [...] of C [...]st. It was first called Barzino; of a great [...]age that builded [...], [...]f w [...] descended the great A [...]l­car. I resently vpon that, [...]. And now Barçelo­na. The [...]omanes afterwards called it Fauentia: But came in time to recouer it's old name. Vid. A [...]r. Hort. V [...]rb. Barcino. & Ant. Augustin. Dialogo. 70. de nummis antiquis. Guzman comes to Barçelona. Barç [...]lona, and ready to imbarke our selues in the Gallies, I found my Master much troubled, as being in a great straight, for [Page 177] that he had receiued no pay from the King, and how to procure moneyes, he knew no way in the world; nor could mine that I brought him in, stea [...] him to any purpose. I saw he was melancholly, sad, and heauy; I knew streight what disease he was sicke of, as being the Phisician, that had often cured him thereof heretofore. I offred him to apply a sudden remedie for this sore. He had with him diuers Iewels, I knew not well what my selfe, and amongst the rest an Agnus Dei, Is Christ our Re­d [...]emer called a Lambe; not pro­prietate, sed similitudine. As in many pla­ces, he is called a Vine, a Rocke, a Doore, a Shep­beard, a Lyon, &c. [...]t in re­gard of his meek­nesse, vnspotted­nesse, chastitie, innocence and obedience; as al­so, for that he was sacrificed vp to his heauen­ly Father, for the sinnes of man­kinde, with a great deale of proprietie, hee is called the Lambe. And the Romane Church, in the Sa­crifice of the Masse, before the holy Communion was instituted, did say or sing this Prayer: Ag­nus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, &c. And Iohn Bap­tist did signe it with this name. Ecce Agnus Dei, &c. Agnus Dei, is likewise a holy re [...]cke, which the Pope blesses, and consecrates the first yeere of his Papacie, and so afterwards from seuen yeeres to s [...] yeeres. It belonget [...] to the Sexton and the Chaplaine to order and dispose the Waxe, where-into they put Los cirios Pas­cuales the yeere before. And with great curiositie, neatnesse, and reuerence, and in different Moldes, they take forth these Ag­nos, of different bignesse, and diuers Figures; both on the one and the other side, they haue the Lambe, whence this re [...]cke takes [...] name. And being presented to his Holinesse, he blesses them in the Chappell, and consecrates them with great Ceremonie, [...] them into Vessels of Holy-water, which he hath blessed, powring vpon them Balme, and the Crisme, or holy Oyle, saying many Prayers ouer them. It is said, that Pope V [...]ban the fift; sent an Agnus Dei to the Emperour of Greece, with certaine [...] Verses, wherein he declareth the excellencie of this holy Relicke; as that, it is good against tempest, Fire, Lightning, Thun­der, and Pestilence; and against the assaults of the Deuill, and therefore ought to [...]ee had in great reuerence; Vide Couar­ [...]as. Verb. Agnus Dei: Agnus Dei of gold, a very rich one: it grieued him to part with it. But I told him; Sir, if you dare to trust me, put this Agnus Dei into my hands, and I will promise you to returne it againe vnto you within these two dayes much improued, and make it better worth vnto you, then now it is. He was glad to heare me say so; and iestingly said vnto me; What tricke haue you now in store Guzmanillo? Hast thou lighted peraduenture (as thou wast wont) vpon some new roguish plot, some feate villanie or other, and canst come finely off with it? Now because he knew, that he might trust his profit, with my sufficiencie; his honour, with my secresie; and that his Iewel was sure enough, without farther questioning me, what I would doe with it; he gaue it me, telling me withall, God grant thou bring it me safe backe a­gaine, and that thy wishes may take good successe.

Loe, there it is, take it, and doe what thou wilt with it. I tooke it of him, put it in my bosome, lapt it vp safe in a little Purse, knit it fast, and ty'd it sure to one of the button-holes of my Doublet. With it I went directly to a A fine tricke, put by Guzman vpon a Gold-smith in Barçelona, that was a great [...]. Goldsmiths shoppe; One that vvas a richman, and a great Vsurer; I made a large relation vnto him of my person, and how and by what meanes I came to this Companie, and what a deale of money I had spent in a short time, re­seruing (vvhen I should see my selfe in some need) a very rich Iewell, for the supplying of my vvants: And that if he would buy it of me, he should haue it reasonable cheape, so as he did not offer me too little, and too much vnder­ualew the worth of it. But withall, I aduised him, that hee should first informe himselfe of my person, and my qualitie, who and whence I was; and in knowing of it, (without rendring any reason why hee was so inquisi­tiue, taking that for a sufficient satisfaction to himselfe) he should walke forth and meet me at the Sea-side, for there I would stay for him, and there hee should finde me all alone, wishing him to make as much haste as he could.

This man, who had a great minde to this Peece, and was greedy of gaine, inform'd himselfe of me from the Captaine, the Officers, and some other of t [...]e Soldiers; receiuing so much satisfaction, as was sufficient to content him. For they did all of them witnesse one and the same thing; That I was the sonne of a principall Cauallero, rich, and nobly descended, and that being desirous to see Italy, I came to their Company with a couple of seruants at­tending on me, well clad, and with good store of Crownes in my Purse; that I had spent it all (as young men vse to doe) which was the cause, that I vvas now in that poore case, as himselfe might well see.

All this made as well for me, as my selfe could wish it; it fell out pat, as I would haue it. My honest Vsurer told me what they said, that hee was very well satisfied therewith, and that he might safely deale vvith me for any thing that I should sell him. He desired my Iewell of me, that he might looke vpon it, and that he would giue me as much for it, as it was worth. I told him, that [Page 178] vve would goe aside by our selues into some secret place, and there he should haue a sight of it.

We vvent a pretie waies off, and when I had found out a fit place to my minde, I put my hand in my bosome, and tooke out my Agnus Dei, of whose price I was well informed, as one that knew what it cost. The Gold-smith lik't it well, and had a great desire to buy it. For, besides that the gold-worke was very well wrought and curiously enameled, it had diuers stones in it of great value. I demanded of him for it two hundred Crownes, which was little lesse then the price that was paid for it, when it was first bought. He be­gan to turne and winde it this way and that way, holding it one while vp­ward, another downward, to see which vvay it shew'd it selfe best, and gaue the brightest lustre.

He found a hundred faults in it (only to bring downe the price) offering me a thousand Royals at the first word. I was resolued, that hee should not haue it vnder a hundred and fiftie Crownes, and it was as well vvorth that, as one Royall; and vnder that I vvould not part with it. And here vpon the By, let this serue by way of aduice to him that is to sell, that he must neuer descend so low as the price for which he meanes to sell it, but that he should driue his bargaine so, that the buyer may rise to his price; looking still, when he shal come higher and higher, and so by standing off, get as much for it as you can. We giue and take; I offer, and he bids; At last, my cunning Merchant comes vp to a hundred and twentie Crownes; I thought with my selfe I should neuer draw him higher, and that it was enough (if not too much) for that which I pretended; and for so much I sold it him. He was loth to leaue me, till he had paid me; and would faine haue had me to haue gone with him: but I told him, Honest sir, God blesse your life, and send you well to doe; if I should goe hence alone with you, I am afraid, le [...]t that money would bee taken from me, which I purpose to keepe till I come to Italy, to furnish mee vvith clothes, that I may come in some good fashion, when I make my selfe knowne there to my Kinsmen, and friends.

And if some Soldier or other should hap to see mee goe with you, they would presently suspect, that it is rather to sell, then buy any thing of you. And if they shall perceiue, that I haue any store of Copper or siluer money a­bout me (being but a Boy as I am) they vvill take it from me, and I shall haue no remedie against them. And therefore God be your good speed, goe your waies, I will stay for you here till you come, bring your gold with you, so ma­ny Crownes, as we haue agreed [...]pon, and you shall haue the [...]ewell away vvith you, and God send you as good lucke vvith it, as I shall wish you.

Hee well approu'd my reason, and hasted home (like a young Colt in his full gallop) for to fetch them. I had giuen notice to a Companion of mine, (a confident seruant of my Masters) that he should stay there waiting for me; And that vvhen I had giuen him such a signe▪ he should as secretly as he could haste in vnto me. Hee lay close in ambush; The Goldsmith by this time is come, he counts me out my Crownes in the Palme of my hand: I had the Iewell in my purse, I sought to vntie it: but because the knots were knit so fast, I could not so easily doe it. My Vsuring Merchant had hanging at his girdle a paire of kniues in an old greasie sheathe; I desired him, that he would lend me one of them. Hee (not knowing vvhy I borrow'd it) pulls me out his knife, and giues it me. I cut the string asunder, leauing the knot fast knit to my Doublet, as it was before, and I gaue it into his hand together with the Agnus Dei. The man began to maruell; and as [...]t me vvhy I did so, and wherefore I had put it there? I told him, that because I had neuer a Boxe, nor no Paper to lap it vp in, I had done as I did, and that the matter was not great, for the Purse was old and little worth, and I had no great need of it: and as for those Crownes that I had of him, I should make a shift to [...]ew [Page 179] them vp in some one ragge or other about my cloaths, where no body should come at them.

He tooke the Iewell of me, iust in the same manner as I had giuen it him, and after that he had put it in his bosome, we tooke our leaue, and he went his way. I gaue the signe to my Companion: hee comes; I giue him the Crownes, and aduised him, that he should hie him home with them, and giue them to my Master, and tell him, that I would be with him by and by.

That done, I made after my Goldsmith, and though by reason of his large strides, he had the aduantage of me, and got ground vpon me, yet I ran after him, till the occasion I expected, did fairely offer it selfe vnto mee. And so watching my time, when he was iumpe euen with a Company of Souldiers, that were standing together, I tooke fast hold of him with both my hands, crying out, A thiefe, a thiefe, helpe, honest Souldiers, for Gods sake come in and helpe me, for this Rogue hath robb'd me, hold him fast if you loue mee, let him not goe, take (and you be good men) ô take, take quickly the Iewell from him, for my Master will kill me, if I come home without it, and this Villaine hath violently taken it from me.

I was well knowne to all the Souldiers, and as soone as they heard me, and saw the pittifull moane that I made, they beleeued I said truth. Hereupon they laid hold on the man, to know vvhat the matter was. And because hee that complaines first, the Iustice commonly goes on his side; and that whi­ning and crying out of wrongs receiued, many times ouercome the right, more by clamour, then any good claime that they can make; I cry'd out more and more, and kept such a stirre and such a noise, that I would not suf­fer him to speake, and if he did, then I was so loud againe and so clamorous, that they could not heare him; putting this tricke The Spanish phrase, is hazi­endole el jue­go Manna. That is, when one goes deferring the conclusion of a businesse, because he knowes it will goe against him, for that his cause is not good. Couarruuias. Verb. Manna. vpon him in the play­ing of my game. I did implore their helpe with great exclamations, with my hands linked one within another, and lifted vp to heau'n, and with my knees, creeping and crawling on the ground, crying out vnto them; As yee be Gentlemen, good my Masters, take pittie and compassion of me; for the Captaine my Master will surely kill me. This tribulation of mine did much trouble them, it did grieue them to see me in this pittifull plight.

At last, they began to aske me what the matter was? and how, and where­in I had beene wronged? Nor was I herein vvanting to play my part; now I had the hand of him, I would be sure to hold it; gracing my lie with all the credit I could, that I might leaue the lesse roome for his truth to enter. For, mans Hearing, contracting Matrimonie on the sudden, vpon the first word that is giuen, will hardly be diuorced from it, but let it alone, and liue and sticke thereunto during life, be it for better or worse. So that all the rest that come after, are but as Concubines, that come now and then to the Hearing, but haue no settled abode there: They may perhaps, like gadding Girles, touch at this eare, and that eare, and the t'other, (as at so many doores, or o­ther folkes houses,) but there is no dwelling for them, they must packe and be gone.

Hauing this string to my bowe, (setting a good face on the matter) I vp, and told them; This morning, my Master left his Agnus Dei at his beds­head vpon his pillow; he willed me to keepe it, and to looke safe vnto it; I tooke it, and first put it in my Purse, and then in my bosome, (thinking I had made all sure enough) but meeting with this good man (you here see) by the Sea-side, I pull'd it forth to shew it him; And because he was a Gold-smith, I askt him, what it might be worth? He told me, that the body of the Iewell was but Coppe [...] double-gilt, and that the Stones were counterfeit, no better then Glasse. Yet askt me withall, whether I would sell it? I told him no; it was my Masters. Hee demanded then of me, if my Master would sell it? My answer was; Sir, I know not: you were best aske him, for hee can best [Page 180] tell you. After this, he proceeded farther in talke with me, asking me, who I was, whence I came, and whither I would; And so held me on in such idle discourse, till we were both alone, but of sight of any; and drawing a knife out of that sheath of his that hangs there at his girdle, hee willed me to make no words, for if I did but offer to squeake, though ne're so little, or but wagge a foote from that place, there was no way but one with me, he would present­ly cut my throat. I stood shaking and quiuering, while hee was taking the iewell out of my bosome, and because he could not readily vnty the knots, I had knit them so fast, he made no more adoe, but cut the string asunder, and so went away with it. And I thinke he hath it still about him; search him, I be­seech you (good honest Souldiers) for Gods sake search him.

The Souldiers seeing that the purse was cut indeed, turn'd towards my Goldsmith, and lookt some-what strangely vpon him, who was strooke there­with so dead, that he had not a word to say for himselfe. They took the Agnus Dei out of his bosome, which he had carried away in the purse; as I had be­fore informed them, so did they iust finde it about him.

Then did he begin to fall a cursing & swearing, vowing by no small oaths, that I had sold it vnto him, and that I with mine owne hand, with that very knife, cut the purse my selfe, and afterwards deliuered it vnto him, and that I had of him for it a hundred and fifty Crownes in very good gold. But for all his swearing and staring, they would neuer a whit the sooner beleeue him; Thinking in good discretion, that it was not likely, that he would ven­ture to buy any such piece of me, for hee might very well thinke that it vvas stolne Ware. Besides (which made much for me) they had searcht mee all o­uer, from top to toe, but could not finde one penny of money about me.

Making this to serue as a strong proofe against him, they vs'd him very homely, both in words and deeds. And whatsoeuer he said vnto them to iu­stifie himselfe, it was all one, he had been as good to haue held his tongue, for after that, they would neither beleeue, nor heare him. They had forcibly ta­ken the iewell from him; Hee complaines thereof vnto the Iustice; I vvas brought before him; There I opened the case anew, (as before you haue heard) not failing so much as one syllable in the relating of that, which I had formerly deliuered.

The Witnesses were sworne, and iustified what they had both seene and heard. And in the end, the businesse was brought so about, that it was conclu­ded, the Goldsmith should be seuerely punished. But vpon intreaty, hee had a brotherly correction, and so sent packing. And as for me, I had my Iewell giuen me in open Court, with charge to carry it home to my Master. I went with it to his lodging, and there in the presence of all his people, I deliuered it vnto him.

There are many that loue treason; but few that like the Traitor. Well Amo proditio­rem, prodito­rem odi. may an ill man, by working ill, please that ill man that sets him a-worke, for the working of his ends. But when the deed is done, it can not be, but that in the brest of that man, there is so much mischiefe imprinted, and such knowne Characters of Villany written in the fore-head of him, that none of those that imploy him, will trust him, either any farther or longer, then they haue vse of him to bring their purposes to passe. What I had done did nothing dis­please my Master. At that time he lik't it vvell, yet it troubled him some­what, and he could not well tell what to thinke of it. These tricks of mine did him good seruice, (and that he knew well inough) but he was afraid both of them, and me.

With these kinde of Cordials, I kept my Master in heart, till hee came to Genoa; where, (hauing dis-imbarkt) and hauing now but little need of my seruice, he shifted me off. Your Traitors, and other such like wicked Vil­laines, are like vnto Vipers, or your Scorpions; which when you haue ta­ken [Page 181] the substance of that from them, which you seeke for, you take them, and throw them vpon the dunghill. Onely they are nourished by all sorts of men (especially your Great-ones) who make exceeding much of them, all the while they vse them as instruments of their pretended ends; but those once effected, they bid you fare well, they will haue no more to doe with you, vnlesse it be to vndoe you, as you haue others; and so let you goe, for such a one as you are; caring rather to vse, then to keepe a Knaue.

Some few dayes after our arriuall, my Master call'd me aside, and said vn­to me; Youth, you are now in Italy, your seruice will be of little vse to me; and your Rogueries may doe me much wrong: Heere is some-what for you to helpe you on your iourney, dispatch quickly, and be gone, for you haue free liberty to goe whither you will. He gaue me some moneys of small value, and some few Spanish Royals; all was a matter of nothing, scarce worth God a mercy; and with this poore pittance, I tooke my leaue of him and left him. I walked along with my head in my bosome, musing in the street as I went, on the great force of Vertue, which did neuer leaue any man vn-rewarded; whereas Vice did neuer suffer any man to escape vvithout punishment, and shame.

I would faine haue spoken then vnto my Master, and haue told him, that he might be pleased to remember, that I had relieu'd him in his wants, sup­plyde his necessities, taken a great deale of paines in his seruice, to my great cost and hinderance. But I thought with my selfe, that he would twit me in the teeth with those things, and lay them to my charge, and that therefore he was the willinger to rid himselfe of me, as of a rotten member, good for no­thing, but to infect all the rest. And so I rested from that. Now seeing in what disgrace I was, and hoping to finde out my kindred there, I made the lesse reckning of it. So I went dayly vp and downe the Citie, seeking by that meanes to learne the language, which as yet I neither vnderstood, nor knew, out of the desire that I had to know, and to be knowne.

CHAP. I.

WIth Flatterers, no rich man is a foole; nor no Poore man wise. For they still weare Specta­cles The nature of [...]. of the largest sight; by reason whereof, things represent them selues far greater then indeed they are. It may truly bee called, Wealths-Moth, and Truths-Worme. Flat­terie resideth most with the Poore, being the greatest enemie that he hath: For that Pouer­tie, which is not the Daughter of the Spirit, is but the Mother of shame and reproach; it is a dis-reputation, that drownes all the other good parts that are in man; it is a Dispositi­on to all kinde of euill; it is mans most Foe; it is a Leprosie, full of anguish; it is a way that leads vnto Hell; it is a Sea, wherein our Patience is ouer­whelmed, our honour is consumed, our liues are ended, and our soules vtter­ly lost and cast away for euer.

The Poore man is a kinde of money, that is not currant; the subiect of eue­ry The Poore mans Epith [...], and his wretched condi­tion. idle Huswiues chat; the off-scumme of the people; the dust of the street, [Page 184] first trampled vnder foot, and then throwne on the dung-hill; In conclusion, the Poore man is the Rich mans Asse. He dineth with the last, fareth of the worst, and payeth dearest: His Six-pence will not goe so farre, as a Rich mans three-pence; His opinion is Ignorance; His discretion foolishnesse; His suf­frage, scorne; His Stocke vpon the Common; abused by many, and abhorred of all. If he come in Companie, he is not heard; If any chance to meet him, they seeke to shunne him; If he aduise (though neuer so wisely) they grudge and murmure at him; If he worke Miracles, they say, he is a Witch; If ver­tuous, that he goeth about to deceiue; His veniall sinne, is a blasphemie; His thought, is made treason; His cause, be it neuer so iust, it is not regarded; and to haue his wrongs righted, he must appeale to that other life. All men crush him; no man fauoureth him; There is no man, that will relieue his wants; No man that will comfort him in his miseries; nor no man, that will beare him Companie, when he is all alone, and oppressed with griefe. None helpe him, all hinder him; none giue him, all take from him; he is Debtour to none, and yet must make payment to all. O the vnfortunate and poore condition of him that is poore, to whom euen the very houres are sold, which the Clocke striketh, and paies Custome for the Sun-shine in August!

And as your rotten and refuse-flesh, comes to be meat for dogs; so, as an vnprofitable piece of flesh, the discreet poore man comes to be eaten vp and deuoured by a company of ignorant Chuffes. But it is quite otherwise with The rich mans Epit [...]ices, and his condition. the rich: How smooth doth the Wool goe on their side? What a fresh gale of winde is still in the poope of them? In how calme a Sea doe they saile? What faire weather, free from the least cloud of care? And what carelesnesse in those stormes, which other men suffer? Their Granaries are full of corne; their The Spanish [...], Cub [...]. [...] v [...]o [...] de [...]las de Ma [...]ra del gad [...], que se çinne conar [...] y cercos y commune­mente se [...] las cub [...]s, par [...] echa [...] en ellas el V [...]no. Couarruuia [...]. Butts of Wine; their iarres of Oyle; their Chests of money. In the Summer, he keepes himselfe from the heats; And in the Winter he clothes himselfe warme to defend him from the cold. Of all men he is well receiued. His fantasticall tricks, are gentleman-like carriage; His foolish speeches, are wise sentences; If he be malicious and hath a pestilent pate to plot mischiefe, then is he said to be subtill, and to haue a shrewd head of his owne; If he be prodigall, they stile him liberall; if couetous, a warie wise fellow; if giuen to [...], he is a wittie Gentleman; if foole-hardie, of a braue daring spirit; if [...]udent and full of ribaldrie, he is a merry man, and a fine Companion; if [...] in his taunts, and giuen to detraction, an admirable Courtier; if in­corrigible, all m [...]tall▪ if scoffing, pleasant-witted; if babbling and full of prate, they tearme him sociable; if vicious, affable; if a Tyrant, a powerfull man; if obstinate▪ constant; if blasphemous and full of oathes, a very vali­ant fellow; if dull graue and fit to make a Counsellour. His errours the earth couereth; all are afraid of him; none dare offend him; Euery mans eare is t [...]d to his tongue seeking by their attention to please his palate; and not a word that comes from him, but is entertained by them with as much solem­nitie, as if an Oracle had spoken vnto them. He will not be said nay, but will haue what he list, making himselfe both Partie, Iudge, and Witnesse. When he will countenance a lie, his power makes it to passe for a truth, and, as if it were so indeed, it is so receiued. How is he accompanied, how visited, how feasted, how magnified of all men?

In a word, Pouertie is the poore mans portion, and riches, that of the rich. And therfore, where good bloud boyleth, & the Pulse of honour beats strong­ly want is held a greater losse then life; death is not so hurtfull, nor seemeth halfe so terrible vnto him, as Necessitie. For money warmeth the bloud, and makes it quicke and actiue: Whereas he that is without it, is but a dead bo­dy A man without money, is a body without lif [...]. that walkes vp and downe like a ghost amongst the liuing. A man cannot without it doe any thing in it's opportune and fit time, he cannot execute his desires, nor accomplish any thing, whereunto he hath a liking.

[Page 185] This is the course of the world, it hath alwaies kept this tracke, it is no new thing, but euen from the beginning, to see The Spanish phrase, is, Que de atras le vi­ene al garban­ço el pico. Which is rendred as I haue here set it downe. Vide Couarruuias. Verb: Garban­ço. men of base birth, and meaner parts, to waxe proud and arrogant. There is no helpe nor remedie for it; So we found it, and so we shall leaue it; we must not looke for a better time, nor thinke that it was otherwise heretofore. All whatsoeuer, either hath bin, is, or shall be, is still one and the selfe-same thing. Our first Father was credulous and light of beliefe; our first mother a Lyer, and false of her word; The first sonne that was borne into the world, a thiefe and a Fratricide, one that kild his owne and only brother.

What is there now, that was not heretofore? Or what can we hope for in that which is to come? If what is past seemeth better vnto vs, it consisteth only in this, that we are more sensible of the ill that is present; and call to re­membrance those good things of old, which being so farre off, are quite ab­sented from vs: yet when our troubles are once ouer-passed, we are so glad, when we finde our selues to be well rid of them, as if they had neuer beene. So your Medowes beheld from a farr, are very pleasant to the eye, and de­lightfull to looke vpon, but when thou drawest neerer vnto them, thou doest not finde so much as one hands breadth of ground, where thou mayst conue­niently sit thee downe, all that thou seest, being nothing else but bogs, pits, and stones. We see the one, but neuer thinke on the other: it is as common, as ancient in the world, for euery man to loue prosperitie, to follow after riches, to seeke for fulnesse, to procure preferment, to pursue plentie, and to hazard our liues to get where withall to liue, and to grow into money (which is the mother of abundance;) For where that is wanting, the father towards the sonne, the sonne towards the father, brother towards brother, and I my selfe, euen towards my selfe, breake my faith and my word, and abhorre mine owne selfe.

This lesson, time hath taught me, out of the discipline of his experimon­tall discourses, hauing punished me with an infinite number of miseries and afflictions.

I plainely now perceiue, that if (when I arriued at Genoa,) I had conside­red what I was, and but looked well into my selfe, I would not haue ventured so farre as I did. And if I had had but the wit to haue reserued that occasion to some better fortune, I should not happely haue beene ruin'd and vndone by it, as you shall heare here-after.

As soone then as I had left the Captaine my Master, hauing made of all my totter'd rags and other old clouts, a kinde of Scar-crow (for they would scarce serue for any other vse) to fray away birds from the Fig-trees, I would needs boast my selfe to be descended of the The e [...]y­mologie of this word Godo, or Gothe is diuers: and comes of Gathia, a Pro­uince so called Got, also signi­fies a Father, which is a phrase properly belonging vnto God. If from bence we deriue the name of Gothes, they must be men of esteeme, as Heroes, or good men. Goet, is as much as Good, from Got; qua voce Deum vocamus, quia bonum à Deo descendit, & ad Deum deducit. It is not a [...]isse to thinke that Godo in it's Language, signifies Good. Some would haue it come of the Hebrew word Goi, which is by interpreta­tion, Gens, or Natio. But fetch it whence you will, I am sure of this, that the Gothes were Lords of innumerable Prouinces, and particularly of Spaine, where they ruled a long time, till the vnfortunate raigne of Don Rodrigo, and of the Reliques of those, which had retyred themselues into the Mountaines, the Nobilitie of Spaine began anew to lift vp their heads, which conti­ [...]th to this day; and is still in such estimation amongst them, that when they will set forth the presumption of some vaine­gl [...]us fellow, they will aske him, Si deciende de la casta de los Godos. Whether he bee [...]ineally descended of the race of the Gothes. Gothes, an ancient Gentleman, and neerely ally'd to most of the Nobilitie of that Citie, giuing out, that I was such a one, and come of such a house; and making farther inquirie of my Fathers ancient Familie, and his great Alliance in that Citie, it caused such distastefulnes, & such a loathing in them towards me, that they did hate me to the death. And it is to be supposed, that if they could haue done it without any preiudice to themselues, they would haue giuen it me; And thou also wouldst haue done the like, if such a guest should haue come within thy doores. But they manifested their good meaning by those actions, which they vsed [Page 186] towards me. There was not that man to whom I made my selfe knowne, that did not relieue me with a boxe on the eare, a flirt on the lips, a kicke on the breech; and he that did least hurt or disgrace me, did not sticke to spit in my face, vpbraiding me with the name of Villaine, Rogue, Couarruu. The Spanish word is, Marra­no. i. Porcus vn [...]s anni. Et Iudaeus recen­ter conuer [...]s ad Christia­nismum, cum Hispanis, voca­t [...]r Marrano. A notable plea­sant trick put vpon Guzman, by a Genoes. Moore, and the like. Art thou a Genoues? Thou art the sonne of some vile lewd woman, no better can be conceiued of thee. And as if my father had beene terra filius, a sonne of the earth, a mis-begotten Bastard, or as if he had been dead some two hundred yeeres agoe, I could not finde so much as a foot-step of any friend or kinsman of his. Nor could I discouer any thing, till one came vnto me, and greeting me with a Serpents tayle, like a crafty old Scabbe; (O that accursed old Villaine, that sonne of a Whore; O how did he coozen me!) clozing fairely with me, vp and told me:

I haue heard much talke (my Boy) of your Father, and I can bring you ac­quainted with those that shall render you a large relation of your Parents, and those none of the meanest; but (if I be not deceiued) euen the best, and no­blest in all the Citie.

And because I suppose you haue supt already, come and take a bed with me at my house, (for now the time is fit for nothing else) and to morrow mor­ning we will walke a turne or two about the Towne, and I shall bring you to those (as I told you) that knew him very well, and had long conuersed with him. The good presence that he carried, the grauitie wherewith he vttered his words, his good proportion of body, his decent attire, his bald-head, his white Beard, which reached almost downe to his Girdle, and the Staffe which he bare in his hand, represented (me thought) vnto me another Saint Paul. I trusted my selfe with him, I followed him to his house, with a great deale more desire to sup, then to sleepe: for that day I had made but a bad dinner, as well for that I had beene chafte and angred; as also that it must haue been at mine owne cost, which made me to quake, as oft as I did but thinke vpon spending but a farthing.

But because that which the rich giue vs, is but little, and what we call for, must cost vs money, we eate but little bread, and that (God knowes) stale, and hard; though to vs, that are almost hunger-staru'd, it seemes a great deale, and soft inough. Besides, I was now growne a pinch-belly, and a very miser to my selfe.

I went along, but with feeble legges, ready to faint for hunger, after that I saw what an Host I was like to haue, & how (like a Cordouese) he told me by way of preuention, that I had already supt: And had it not bin out of the feare that I had to lose so faire an opportunity, I would not haue gone with him, vntill I had first visited some tippling house. But the hope of that good which seemed to weight for me, made me too leaue the Bird that I had in my hand, for to follow the Oxe, which fled too fast from me, for me to catch him. As soone as we were come into his house, a seruant came to take off his Cloake; he will'd him to let it alone; and they twaine hauing talked together a while in their owne language, he sent him forth: So that now being left all alone to our selues, we walked many a turne, and sometimes talked of one thing, some­times of another. At last, he drew neerer vnto me, asking me diuers questions concerning Spaine; and amongst the rest, more particularly of my Mother, as how she was left, what was her Estate, how many brothers she had, and in what street she liu'd? I gaue him a full account of all, as wisely, and as adui­sedly as I could for my life.

In this discourse I intertain'd my selfe the better part of an houre, vntill such time as his seruant was returned. I know not what was his arrand, nor what message he brought him backe; but my old Foxe turn'd about vnto me, and said vnto me; So, it is well, inough for this bout, it is time for you to take your rest, get you to bed, and to morrow we shall see one another againe, and [Page 187] then we shall inlarge our minds more freely to each other. Then he cals, O la Antonio, Maria, doe you heare there? Come away, and conduct this Gen­tleman to his lodging. I went along with him from lodging to lodging, through this roome, and that roome, I know not whither my selfe; it was a great large house, wrought with many goodly faire Pillars, whose pauement was all of Alabaster, hewne foure-square.

At last we crosse through a Court, and enter into a lodging, that stood at the one end thereof, which was very well furnished, and fairely hung vvith Hangings of sundry sorts of colours, like vnto your Arambal: is a Moorish word: and is a [...] sort of Hangings. Arambales, but that they seemed to be some-what better then they. The Beds-head lean'd against the wall, and close adioyning therevnto stood a little low Stoole. And as if he would haue me to make my selfe vnready, the seruant that was appointed to attend me, offred his seruice to pull off my cloathes. But they were such, and so ragged, that my selfe knew not very vvell how to put them either off, or on, vnlesse I tooke a great deale of care, disposing of one piece after another, for there was not any one part that was whole, or put in it's proper place, so that it was impossible to discern or know, which was the Ierkin, or the Bree­ches, when you saw them layd abroad, and stretched out vpon the ground. So that I hauing vndone some few knots, with the which I had fastened them together for want of points, I let them slide off from me at the beds feet. And thus soule and slouenly as I was, and so lowsie, as no man could well be worse, I crept me in between the sheetes. The Bed was soft & good, the sheetes cleane and sweet. And when I was laid, I began to think with my selfe, sure, this good old man is my kinsman, that he vses me thus kindly, but will not make him­selfe knowne vnto me, till to morrow morning. It is a good beginning, it cannot be, but that he will giue me new Cloathes, and deale kindly with me, since being in that poore and miserable estate as I was, he had giuen me such good entertainment. Questionlesse it is so, & now wil some faire fortune befall me. I was but yong, I did not diue to the bottome of his drift, I only lookt vpon the Superficies, I went no farther then the outward appearance. For, if I had had either wit or experience, I might haue considered with my selfe, that great offers, haue great ends, and that he that is full of courtesie, is full of craft. A grande of­ferta, grande pensamiento. For such kindnesses as these, are not done for nothing, there is some mysterie more in it, then a man is aware of. And alwaies obserue this for a Maxime, or generall rule, That when a man shall offer the courtesies of an extraordinary nature, and such as heretofore he hath not been accustomed to doe, eyther he meanes to put a tricke vpon thee, or else he stands in neede of thee. The Ser­uant, when he had me to bed, went forth of the Chamber, leauing a candle burning by me, I spake vnto him, wishing him to put it out. He told me, I must hold him excused, and that he would not doe so, for in the night time, there flye vp and downe in that Countrey (almost in euerie corner) certaine Bats, or Reare-Mise of an extraordinarie bignesse to those in other places, which are very offensiue, and doe much hurt, and that the only remedy against them, is to haue a light standing by ones bed side, for they can by no meanes indure it, but seeke to auoid it by flying away from it into some blind corner or other.

He likewise told me, that this their Country was full of Hob-gobblins, and Robin-good-fellowes, which were all great enemies to the light, but in your dark lodgings, they did now and then play their parts, and do many a shrewd turne. All which I did beleeue with the greatest simplicitie in the world.

This said, he went his wayes; and he was no sooner gone, but I presently got me vp, and made fast the doore, not that I was afraid of robbing (for I had nothing to lose) but out of a suspition and iealousie that I had, that some one mischance or other might befall me; being yong, vnfriended, vnknowne, and in a strange place, where I neuer was before.

[Page 188] Hauing (as I thought) made all sure, I returned back againe to my bed, fell presently asleepe, inioying (to my great content) a sweet and quiet rest; for the Pillowes, the Your Spanish Colchones, are like our finer sort of English Ma­tresses; quilted with Wooll, or Flaxe; for in your [...] Coun­tries they vse no feather-beds. Colchones, the Couerlets, and the Sheetes did drinke a Health vnto me, and I (with a very good will) did soundly pledge them.

The better part of the night was now ouer-past, the beame of mid-nights ballance began to decline, and leaned a little towards the breake of day, whi­lest I, being in a dead sleepe, was wakened on the sudden with a confused noise of foure parts: Diuels they seemed to be by their shape, their habit, their blacke curled haire, and by those fearefull vgly vizards, which they had vpon their faces.

Hauing walkt their Stations a while about the Chamber, they came at last vnto the bed, vvherein I lay, putting me in such a fright, that I lost my sences for a time, and vvithout any vvord speaking, off they plucke the Couerlets from me, anon after the Sheetes. I wondred what a Gods name would become of me; I fell as fast as I could for my life, to crossing and blessing of my selfe; I ranne ouer my prayers, I called a thousand times vpon the name of I [...]svs; but they vvere Daemonij baptizati, Christen Diuels, and therefore drew still neerer and neerer vnto me; They had put vpon the Colchone, vnder the ne­ther sheet, a Blanket; euery one tooke hold of his corner, and haled me forth into the middle of the roome. I was much amazed, and extremely troubled, when I saw that my prayers could not preuaile; insomuch, that I did neither dare; and if I durst, yet I was not able to open my mouth, nor to speake so much as one word▪ if I might haue all the world for my labour.

The roome was high-roofed, and fitted for their purpose; where, when they had me out amongst them, they began to blanket me, and to tosse me vp in the aire, as they vse to doe dogges at Shroue-tide, till growing so weary, that they could hold out no longer, they left winnowing of me (being suffici­ently fanned already) and laid me downe there againe, where they found me; and leauing me for dead, they couered me with the cloathes, and went out that way they came in, hauing first put out the light. I was so dis-ioynted, and so broken as it were in pieces, and so beside my selfe, that when it was day, I did not know, whether I were in heauen, or heere vpon earth: God, who was pleased to preserue me, knew for what end he did it.

It vvas now about eight of the Morning, and I was vvilling to rise, for that I found my selfe reasonably able to get vp. Me thought, I did not smell so sweet as I should, my body cleauing to the Sheetes, no clay could be more clammy, nor any plaister cling closer.

This put me in minde of my old Masters Wife, the Cooke. And although there are no perturbations, vvithout some one disorder or other, yet this did much afflict me. But now the Crow could bee no blacker, then vvere his vvings: And therefore I rubb'd ouer all my body with the cleanest places, that I could meet vvithall in the sheetes; vvhich vvhen, I had done, I beganne to buckle my harneys vnto me, and fall a knitting of my old knots, to my older cloathes. And the longer I vvas in making of me ready, the more I did con­sider vvith my selfe, vvhat a Diuell that should be, that had befalne mee this last night: And if when I rose vp, I had not found my limm's almost shaken in pieces, my bones bruized, and in a manner out of ioynt, I should verily haue thought, that it had beene but a dreame. I look't round about the roome, but could by no meanes finde vvhich vvay they should come in. By the doore it vvas impossible, for I had shut that sure vvith mine owne hands, and found it [...] lockt, as I left it.

Then I began to cast with my selfe, vvhether they might not be those Hob­gobblins, and Robin-good-fellowes, vvhich the Yong-man told mee of ouer­night. But that (me thought) could not be; for if it vvere so, then had hee done very ill, that he did not aduise me before-hand, that there vvere some [Page 189] of these same mad merry sprites, that delighted as much in light, as other more melancholly Diuels did in darknesse.

Whilest I was musing on this businesse, and deuising with my selfe, how or vvhich way they could get in; I lifted vp the Hangings, to see, if behind them I could espy any little out-let; at last I lighted on an open window, which did butt out vpon the Court, thorow which we crost. Then I presently said with my selfe; This way were the Bulls brought in, my hurt came in at this Win­dow; And albeit euery rib in my bodie, and all my bones throughout, did rattle in my skinne, making such a noise for all the world as your Chesse-men doe, when you shake them together in the bag, yet I did dissemble it all that I could (in regard of that slouenly part, which I had plaid against my will) till I should see my selfe quite cleare of the house: I threw vp the bed as hand­somely as I could, couering all as close as might be, that if any should come in, they might not smell out my fault, and finde out the feeblenesse of my re­tentiue faculties, and so the same Deuils be brought in againe, and torment me anew.

The seruant, that brought me thither, came to mee towards nine of the clocke, and told me, that his Master expected me in the Church, and that I must goe thither vnto him; And because I would not willingly haue his man stay behinde in the chamber, that I might get the start of him, I intreated him that he would doe me the kindnesse to bring me to the doore, because I was vnacquainted with the house, and knew not the way out. So he brought me forth into the street, and returned backe againe.

When I saw I was come off cleere from him, as if I had beene borne with wings at my feet, and my body had been sound & whole, I tooke Tomar las calças de Villa diego. Vale huyr mas que de passo, This Prouerbe is in Celestine, but it's originall vn­knowne: But it should seeme Villa Diego was driuen to his shifts, and not hauing time to put on his bree­ches, was forced to flye away with them in his hand. Couarr. verb. Calças. Guzman, leaues Genoa, and goes for Rome. Villa diego his Breeches, and tript away so nimbly, that he that had runne Post, should hardly haue ouertaken me. Hee runnes fast that flies: Feare addeth wings and strength; thought was not swifter then my flight. I bought something by the way to satisfie hunger, and for to gaine time, I eate as I went, and made no stay, till I was out of the Citie. Where in a Tauerne I call'd for a Cup of Wine, where-with I refresht my selfe, that I might walke the stronger to­wards Rome, whither I had directed my iourney, thinking all the way as I went vpon that grosse scorne, whereby they sought to banish me out of Ge­noa, to the end that my pouertie might not disgrace them; but I did not re­maine their Debtor, nor had they any great cause to bragge thereof in the end, as you shall see in the second part.

CHAPTER II.

IFled so fast out of Genoa, that if Lots wife had but done that, which I did, she had neuer beene turned into a Pillar of Salt. I neuer offred to looke backe, my Anger spurd me on, and put me vp to the height of my speed; for when choller once Anger and it's effects. begins to boyle, we hardly feele the wounds that are giuen vs, though they be neuer so mortall, neuer so deadly. Be­sides, by how much the more a man re-bringeth as it were himselfe, to himselfe, and looketh home into his owne bosome, by so much the more hee comes neerer to the recognition and knowledge of his hurt.

[Page 190] I escaped from the ouerthrow giuen at Ronçes valles, is a Mo­nasterie, built by King Don San­cho de Na­uarra, which he indowed with great Rents; it is a Couent of Ca­n [...]s Regular, who beare in their brests an Azure Crosse, hauing the forme of a shepheards Crooke, or Crosier staffe. Heere was a great battell fought. The said King lies buried in this Monaste­rie, his body be­ing brought from Tudela, where he died. Ronçes valles, como perro Vexigas, are certaine Blisters, which rise vpon the flesh, through heate, or some other accident, and commonly grow on the feet of men or beasts, with ouer much trauaile. Couarruuias. Bexiga. con bexiga; like a Dog, that claps his taile betweene his legs, and through too much haste to be gone as farre as his feet will carry him, growes sur-bated, and stiffe in his ioynts. There was not one firme ligament in all the whole Fabricke of my body. But I did not much feele it, till I came to rest my selfe; When I drew neere to a little Village some ten miles off from Genoa, where I sate me downe, not knowing whither to goe, being bruised in my body, na­ked of cloathes, without money in my Purse, and blacke and blue all ouer, as if I had beene beaten with a Cudgell.

Necessitie and it's effects. O Necessitie; how doest thou abate mans courage? How doest thou take off his Metall? How doest thou dis-hearten his bodie? And howbeit it be true, that thou doest sharpen the wit, and refine the vnderstanding, yet thou destroyest the faculties therof, by diminishing and taking off so much from the senses, that they are readie to bee flaw'd and crackt in pieces through too much sufferance, and that intolerable patience, whereunto they be put.

There are two sorts of Two sorts of Necessitie. Necessitie; The one shamelesse and impudent, which (like an vnmannerly guest) comes of it selfe, without being called. The other, which being inuited, straines a little curtsie, but comes vpon in­treatie at the first bidding. That which vnrequested, Necessitie, that inuites it selfe, and the miserie thereof. bids it selfe, God deli­uer vs from it; And this is that, of which I treat. This is like a powerfull guest in a poore mans house, who out of his greatnesse brings a thousand fol­lowers along with him; it is that man of Warre, wherein a multitude of mischiefes, (like so many Pyrats) stand readie armed, wayting to doe hurt. It is the framer and plotter of all kinde of trecheries and villanies; hard to be indured, and worse to be corrected. It is that Lucerna Nauis Praetoriae, that Lanterne in the Admirals Ship, which all couzenages and deceits attend and follow; it is the sport of Boyes and children; a foolish dance, a ridicu­lous Comedie, the sad and direfull Tragedie of honour and of vertue. It is fierce, foule, fantasticke, furious, fastidious, faint, facile, feeble, false: only she failes of being a Franciscan. And it is a wonder, if she afford any other fruit but infamie.

That other, which we bid & inuite, Necessitie, that comes not before shee bee inuited; and the greatnesse there­of. & comes not but when she is called, is Lady-like, liberall, rich, franke, powerfull, affable, generous, sociable, gra­cious, acceptable, and welcome to all. She leaues vs a full and plentifull house, feeds vs at her costs, and defraies all recknings; she is a firme defence, an in­expugnable Tower, true riches indeed, and good, without hurt; That Necessitie, not necessited, and the com­mendation there­of. Ne­cessitie (I say) which necessitates it selfe, but is not necessitated, is the place of perpetuall rest, the house of God, and the way to heauen. It lifteth vp mens mindes, it addes strength vnto their bodies, it doth innoble their fame, it cheereth their hearts, it magnifieth their Actions, and makes their names immortall.

Let renowned Cortes, her truest Louer, sing forth her praises. Her legges and feet are of Diamonds, her body of Saphires, and her countenance of Car­buncles, it shineth, it cheereth, and it quickneth, it is full of pleasure, lustre, and life. But that other neighbour of hers, lookes like a filthy old sluttish Laundresse, where you shall see nothing but a heape of Spittle ragges, full of matter'd stuffe, and the soiles of vlcerous sores, which no eye is able to indure, it is so loathsome to looke vpon, and therefore (with a great deale of reason) abhorred of all. Behold and view me well, for I am one of those, with whom Necessitie fell in loue, she neuer left following me, but kept me company at bed and at boord, liuing in deadly sinne, by being bound to seeke out meanes to maintaine her. And to this end, she made me studie the [...]iuion, [...] a [...] fellow that will not worke [...], but goe from Towne to Towne, from house to house, to begge a piece of bread, and a Dish of drinke. It is a French word, Bribeur, Mendicus. Briber Mendicare. Couarruuias. Bri [...]iatick Art. [Page 191] This was the course I ran, I was to day in one place, and to morrow in ano­ther, begging an almes of all that I met with.

It is fit, that we should giue euery man his due. And therefore I must con­fesse vnto thee, that there is much charitie vsed in Italy, and indeed so much, Italie, a chari­table Countrie. that this new Trade, that I had betaken my selfe vnto, made me loth to leaue it, I found so much sweetnesse in it. For in a few daies I grew flush, and able to make wing to maintaine my flight; So that from Genoa, whence I came, till I saw Rome, where I stayd, I performed all that Voyage, without spending so much as one farthing. The money that was giuen, I kept that whole and intire, and for victuals, I had euer sufficient, and more then would serue my turne. I was yet but a Nouice, and therefore threw that away many times to the dogges, which afterwards, when I had more iudgement, I fold for mo­ney, which brought me in no small gaines.

I had a great minde (as soone as I came thither) to put my selfe into new cloaths, that I might be some-what againe like my selfe; but this counsell of mine (me thought) was not so good; and therefore repenting my selfe of it, I said thus with my selfe; Friend Guzman; take heed, lest this other doe not proue-like that of Toledo. And if being well clad, thou shouldst not chance to meet with a Master, how wilt thou haue bread to put in thy mouth? Content thy selfe, and continue still as thou art; For, if being well apparelled, thou shalt beg an almes, they will giue thee nothing; Keepe that which thou hast, and leaue off the [...]e thy vaine and idle humours.

This deliberation tooke place: and hauing now set vp my rest, I knit ano­ther knot vpon my Purse-strings, and then I spake vnto my money, and said, Here rest you quiet, for I know not what need I may haue of your helpe. I be­gan then in these my old raggs, that were not good enough to make waste Pa­per, hanging those totterd streamers as handsomely as I could about mee, (which seemed like so many little pieces of rauell'd Flannell, so full they were of Iiggs and iaggs) to beg for my liuing.

Hauing recourse still at noone to those places, where there was either bread, or porrage to be had; and sometimes it would so fall out, that I should get as much at once, as might very well serue three more besides my selfe. I visited your Cardinals, your Embassadours, your Princes, your Bishops, and other great mens houses, not ouer-skipping any one of them. I was directed vnto them by another young Youth of that Countrie, he was my Guide, who was well skill'd in that craft, and was the first Tutor that euer read any Lectures vnto me in this kinde. Hee taught me the first grounds and Princi­ples of this learned Science, and the different Species and formes of begging, how this man was to be sought vnto, how that; what phrase of language to be vsed towards such a sort of people, and what a differing fashion to those of another kinde. For we must not haue all one tone, for all sorts of persons, but must varie our note, alter our straine, and applie our selues to that stile, which we shall thinke will take best, and most moue and affect the partie, whose de­uotion we craue.

Men doe not care for curious words and choyse phrases, they loue not the smoothnesse of flatterie, and as little can they abide to be beaten about the eares with loud exclamations; that which they like best, is an honest plaine kinde of begging, Por amor de Dios; Good Sir, for Gods sake, be­stow one poore pennie vpon me.

Your women, they are wonderfully deuoted to the Virgin Mary, to our Lady del Rosario, and the like; with these you may be a little more liberall of your Language, beseeching God, that he will direct all their Actions to his holy seruice, that he would deliuer them from all deadly sinne, from the accu­sation of false Witnesses, from the power of Traytors, and the malice of euill tongues.

[Page 192] This being well pronounced, and repeated ouer and ouer; with a great deale of vehemency of vvords, and a strong and earnest deliuery, makes their purses presently fly open, and happy is she who can first supply thee with an Almes. He taught me how to vvorke the rich to compassion, how to mooue the poorer sort to pitie, and how to oblige the religious deuout man, that he should not be able to get from me, before he had giuen me an Almes. He instru­cted me so vvell in such a company of fine cunning tricks in this kinde, that I got a great deale in a little time.

There was not that man, but I did know, euen from the very Pope, to him Cono [...]ia des­de el Papa, hasta el que estaua sin capa. Prouerb. that had ne're a Cloake: that is, from the highest to the lowest. I did runne ouer all the streetes of Rome, and that I might not bee too troublesome by beg­ging too often in one place, or of one person, I did diuide the whole City into certaine quarters, euery vvorking-day vvalking my seuerall Station; but on Sundayes and Holy-dayes, I was wholly for your Churches, I neuer mist, but punctually kept my houres, and there I made good purchase. But that which I made most profit of, were the pieces of bread, that vvere giuen me: These I sold, and they yeelded me many a faire penny. Part vvhereof those poore men did buy, which did not goe vp and downe a begging, but The Spanish word is, Tenian la bola en cl embogue. were faire for it, being (as they say) the next doore to it, who out of their pouerty, were faine to trade vvith me, because I could affoord them a good bargaine.

And some I sold to poore Country-folkes, such as make a liuing of feeding Pigs, and fatting of Poultry. But those that vvere my best pay-masters, were your Qui coquit & facit turro­nes Turron. Copta Cru­stulum. A Bisket made with Honey, Al­monds, small Nuts, Wa [...]uts, Kernels of Pine-Apples, &c. Turroneros, for to make their Alaxur or Alfaxor is a Moorish word; And is a kinde of Conserue, made of Hony, Spices, and crummes of bread. Couarr. verb. Alaxu. Alfaxor, as they call it in Castile. I did helpe my selfe besides, with some old hous-hold ragges, who, for that they saw I vvas young, and naked, did in pitie bestow them vpon mee, which were something vvorth to mee, though to them they were things of nothing.

Afterwards, I fell in company with some other of more ancient standing in that faculty (for they had their distinction of degrees, & prioritie of formes, as in Schooles) for the better increasing of my knowledge, & that from them I might learne how to gouerne my selfe wisely and discreetly. These Rogues had beene admitted into the Liuery long agoe, and had borne Office of Ren­ters and Wardens, men that had held preeminence amongst them, and de­seru'd to be Masters of their company. With these I went to some knowne Doles; there being some men that did dayly (out of meere deuotion) distri­bute almes euery morning to the poore in their particular houses. Going once to receiue this Dole in the French Embassadors house, I might heare other poore Beggers, that were behinde me, begin to murmure, saying; This Spa­nish vnhappy Boy, which beggeth heere now in Rome, is newly come, and a meere stranger in this place, he is not acquainted with this course of life, and for vvant of knowledge, (by that which I haue obserued in him) he is likely to beat downe the market, and if some order be not quickly taken with him, he will vndoe vs all. For hauing once fill'd his belly, in the most places where he comes, if they giue him any victuals, he refuses to take them, and tels them (God be thanked) he hath dined well inough already. He will quite o­uerthrow the Art of begging, by giuing the world by this meanes to vn­derstand, that we poore Rogues haue more giuen vs, then we can well tell what to doe withall. So that if he runne this course a little longer, he will hurt vs, and doe himselfe no good.

Another of their Comrags, that was there with them, Tush (quoth he) hold ye your peace, let me alone with this Lad, I will take him to taske, and yee shall see how I will worke him. I will instruct him how to vnderstand himselfe, & how he may not easily be vnderstood by others. Leauc him (I say) to me. With that, speaking softly vnto me, he called me vnto him, and we went out alone by our selues from all the rest of the Company. He was an ex­cellent [Page 193] Proficient, and a very ready and dextrous man in all that appertai­ned to that Art.

The first thing that he did (as if he had been the Protopobre, or Prince of Beggers) was, to examine my life, asking me, Whence I was? What was my name? When, and to what end I vvas come thither? Then did he deliuer vnto me the great obligation, that Beggers had to keepe a decorum in all their actions, to hold correspondence one with another, and to linke in loue toge­ther like sworne The Spanish word is Her­mano de me­sta. A certaine iurisdiction be­longing to Heards-men and Shepheards. The Etymology there­of is not so easie; but I will deliuer what I thinke, remitting my selfe to others bet­ter opinion. It is termed Mesta, quasi mixta. By reason of the concurrency and mixture of di­uers Herds and Flocks one a­mongst another. And because they make restitution of those that are thus inter-min­gled one with an­other, which are knowne by some Markes branded with hot irons. Or it is said to be Mesta, of amista, because of the great con­formitie and friendship be­tweene these kinde of people, who are very ob­seruant of their Lawes. This the Idiome of Aragon doth confirme, who name that, which the Spaniards call Mesta, Li­gallo, which is as much as Liga, and Liga, is a confederation, or friendship. brothers, and that I should informe my selfe of certaine curiosities, and secrets, and some Principles, which I did not as yet know. For in very truth, that which I learned of my Youth afore-mentioned, and of o­ther poore Rogues of lesse talent, and farre inferiour both in knowledge and experience, were all triuiall things, and of no esteeme, in comparison of those precepts, which I receiued from this Grand-Master of his faculty. He gaue me certaine Rules, which I shall neuer forget as long as I liue.

Amongst the which, one was, that I should vnfold three or foure leaues of my stomake, and open the booke to a plaine vomit, yet to be so well read therein, that it should not appeare to the vvorld, that it proceeded from any surfet, or that I had ouer-charged my stomake. He taught me a tricke how to turne vp my stomake in some by-corner, which wrought two good effects.

First, it moued the people to compassion, thinking that I was sicke: Se­condly, though afterwards I should swallow downe two Platters of vvarme pottage, there would be roome inough still for more. And so by this meanes the infamy and misery that the poore indured, would the bettter be published and spred abroad. I knew how many bits I was to eate, and how I was to looke vpon the bread that they gaue me, how to kisse it, and how often, and vvhat kinde of countenance to cast vpon it: What fashion of behauiour I was to vse, and how to carry my selfe vpon all occasions, differing the forme, ac­cording to the diuersitie of mens dispositions. I knew the true tone of my voice, vvhen I was to rise, and when to fall with it. I knew the set houres wherein I was to repaire to such or such a place; In what houses, I might en­ter in euen to the bed-side, and in what, I might not presse no farther then the doore. I knew whom I might bee bold to importune, and be earnest withall in my crauing; and whom againe I ought not to sollicite or speake vnto aboue once. In conclusion, he gaue me in writing all the Statute-Lawes, and Orders, ordained by that free Common-wealth of beggers, instruct­ing me in the obseruation of them, for the auoiding of scandall, and the bet­ter informing of my vnderstanding And these are they that follow.

The Lawes and Ordinances, that are inuiolably to be obserued amongst Beggers.

FOrasmuch as all Nations haue their proper method of Begging, and are distinguished and knowne by their sound, and by a differing forme from all others; as are your Almanes by their singing, and going in troopes; your French-men, by their praying; your Flemmings, by their ma­king of legges, and their low and frequent Congies; your Gypsies, by their im­portuning; your Portugals, by their weeping; your Italians, by their long Circumlocutions; and your Spaniards, by their bigge lookes, and high lan­guage, as if they would swagger a man out of an Almes whether he will or no; whereby they make themselues hatefull to their owne hurt, being held no bet­ter then vaine babblers, and a kinde of insufferable proud Rogues; these there­fore we more especially will & command, that they reform this disorder, beare themselues ciuilly, that they doe not curse, nor blaspheme, (as too commonly they vse to doe) but that they keepe good order, according to our Statutes and Ordinances in that case prouided.

[Page 194] Item, we vvill and command; That none of our brother Rogues, or beg­ger vvhat-soeuer, either wounded, or lame of any of these Nations, whence, or vvhatsoeuer, shall ioyne and vnite himselfe vvith those of another Country, and that not any person or persons of all, or any one particular, shall make any Couenant, Compact, or Alliance, vvith any blind men, that goe saying their prayers, from doore to doore, nor with any Mounty-bankes, Musicians, nor Poets, nor with Slaues set at libertie, though our Lady her selfe should haue released and set them free from the power and tyranny of the Turkes, nor with old Souldiers, which being totter'd and torne, haue forsaken their co­lours, and fled from their Captaines; nor with Mariners, that with one storme are dis-heartened, and haue no more minde to goe to Sea. For how­beit all and euery one of them doe sute and agree well together in all kinde of cheating, and roguish tricks, and would make excellent beggers, yet the Art it selfe of Begging, and the language are much differing. And therefore we will and command euery one of th [...]se to keepe his owne quarter, and strictly to obserue such Orders as are set downe and ordained in that case.

Item, We will and command, that the poore of euery Nation, especially in their owne Countries, haue certaine Tauernes, and knowne victualling hou­ses, where shall ordinarily preside and gouerne, three or foure of the more ancient amongst them, hauing Staues in their hands, as Ensignes of their pre­cedencie, and authoritie: Whom wee depute, to treat in those places of all such Accidents and other things that shall happen there, or shall otherwise be brought to their knowledge. That they shall sit in Councell, and giue their o­pinion therevpon. And when they haue so done, they may afterwards play at Foxe mine Host, or some other drinking The Spanish word is Ren­tilla: The Ita­lian, Gatta­cieca. It is some Tosse-pols game, wherein your Ale-Knights, and idle Rogues sit ouer their Cups, and censure and deride all estates. Game, at Cards or Dice for their recreation, and to wash away care. They may sit ouer the Cup, and tell old Stories: they may recount the famous Acts, done either by themselues, or others, as also of their Ancestors, and boast of those warres, wherein they haue serued, and what-soeuer else they shall thinke fit for inter­tainment.

Item, We will and command; That euery Begger carry a good Bat or Cud­gell in his hand, and those that are able, to put a good Pike at the end of it, that they may be armed and prouided against all casualties, that may befall either their Purse, or their Persons. Which they are to doe vpon penalty of their own hurt.

Item, That no Begger may, or doe weare any new garment, or but halfe worne out, saue such as is rent and thred-bare, and full of patches, by reason of the ill example that may grow thereby, & the generall hurt that may come of it. Alwayes prouided, that if any such Coat or Cloake bee giuen by way of Almes, that then it shall bee lawfull for him to weare it that day onely wherein it was giuen him, vvithout any farther limitation of licence, but the next day following to put it off, and neuer weare it more, but forthwith to alter the propertie, vpon paine of our generall displeasure, and his owne particular hinderance.

Item, We will and command, That in the taking of their places, and their seates, they doe all and euery one of them obserue, antiquitatem possessionis, & non personae the antiquitie of possession, and not of the person; preferring the ancienter in standing, before the elder in yeeres. And that no man shall dare of presume, to vfurpe or defraud one another in this kinde.

Item, We will and command, That two sicke, or two lame persons may ioyne and goe together, and call Brothers, but with this condition, that they begge by turnes, and straine their voices as high as they can reach; the one still beginning where the other leaueth, obseruing equall time, and tune, euery one keeping his one side of the street; and not vsing any artificiall phrases, or affe­cted forme of speeches let each of them expresse, as significantly as he can, his [Page 195] particular griefe; and let them afterwards part and share the gaines betweene them, vpon paine of our Worships displeasure.

Item, we will and commaund, That no Begger carrie from the knife vp­wards, any armes, either offensiue or defensiue. That he weare no Gloues, Pantofles, Spectacles, his hose trussed or his stockings gartered, vpon paine of forfeiting of all his temporalties.

Item, it is farther enacted, That they may weare a foule filthy clowt knit about their heads in stead of a Kerchieffe.

They may also beare about them a paire of Sizars, a knife, an Awle, Needle and thred, a Thimble, a woodden Dish, a The Spanish word, is Cala­baça: wherein Pilgrims and beggers carry their beuerage. Gourd, a little Hand-basket, a Scrip, a Wallet. Be it alwaies prouided, that they beare no Sacke at their backe, no basket of burthen, no Alforjas, is a Wallet deui­d e into two parts, that it may the more easily be borne vpon a mans beast. It is an Arabicke word, to wit, Ahfodja, of the Verbe Ahfad, which signifies to keepe: because in it Trauellers keepe their proui­sion. Alforjas or Knap-sacke, which Trauel­lers vse to put their prouision in, when they are to goe some great iourney, nor any such like kinde of things as these be. But it shall be only lawfull for them to walke with two Crutches, and a sore legge, with a long and deepe tent in it.

Item, We will and command, That all beggers beare two purses about them; one littleone, and another of a bigger size, besides certaine priuate pockets for closer conueyance, that may safely indure a search; and that they put the almes that is giuen them into their Hat. And Wee further will and command, that they neither may make, nor doe make any Pouch or Budget, in Coate, Cloake, Frocke, Gabardine, Cassocke, or Mandillion, vpon for­feiture, it being once espi'd and found out, they may chance to lose it, and stand registred euer after for fooles vpon record.

Item, We will and command, that no man discouer the secrets and myste­ries of our Trade, nor diuulge and publish them abroad, saue only to those that are Professors of the said Arte. And he that shall inuent or finde out any new tricke or cunning deuice for the common good, shall be bound to mani­fest the same to the incorporation of beggers; to the end, that it may be vn­derstood and knowne of all, for as much as such good things as these, are to be accounted as common, there being no prohibition to the contrarie; and more especially, not to be concealed from those that are our Country-men, and naturals of the same Kingdome. But for the better incouraging of o­thers, and that notice may be taken of our good gouernment; We giue pri­uiledge, and plenary power to the first inuentor and Author thereof, that for the space of one whole & complete yeere, he make his best benefit of the first impression, not suffring or permitting any, without his especiall and particu­lar Licence, to vse or exercise the same, vpon paine of our heauie displeasure.

Item, We will and command, That all beggers shall manifest and make knowne to one another, all those houses, where any almes are to be had, espe­cially those, where there is any Gaming, as also such places, where your Gal­lants vse to meet, and court their Mistresses; for that is a certaine rent, and seldome faileth.

Item, We will and command, That no begger breed any hunting Hounds, Greyhounds, or bloud-Hounds, nor may in his owne house haue any more then one little Mungril-curre; for the which wee giue free libertie and li­cence, and that he lead him along with him either ty'de in a string, or other­wise fastened to his girdle.

Item, We will and command, That none shall carry a dog about with him, making him to dance and leape thorow a Hoope: nor shall it be lawfull for him to haue or hold any place to begge at the doore of any Church, any stati­on, or Iubilee, only he shall haue free leaue to begge as he passes along by the street, vpon paine of being counted contumacious and rebellious to our Lawes and Ordinances.

Item, Wee will and command, That no begger presume to come to the [Page 196] Butchers shambles, or to the Fish-market, to buy either fish or flesh, saue in case of extreme necessitie, and licence of the Phisician; nor that he sing, play vpon any Instrument, leape, or dance, by reason of the scandall that may arise by so doing.

Item, We licence and permit, that such beggers as are so disposed, may rent certaine children, to the number of foure (but not aboue) their ages be­ing first examined; and if two of them be taken for twinnes, borne of one wombe, at one and the selfe-same time, it shall not be thought amisse of, in case that the elder of the two be not aboue fiue yeere old. And if it bee a woman that goes about with these children, she shall beare one of them suck­ing at her brest; and if a man, he shall carry one of them in his armes, and lead the other along by the hand, and not otherwise.

Item, We will and command, That those Beggers that haue any children, they make setting dogges of them, to lie watching close at your Churches, and haue still an eye vpon those that come in and out, for whom it shall be lawfull to begge an almes for their poore father or mother, that lie very sicke and keepe their beds, and haue nothing to helpe themselues withall, hauing foure or fiue small children, that are ready to starue for want of food. Alwaies pro­uided, that it be so taken and vnderstood, that this Patent extends not to any that is aboue sixe yeeres of age; for if they shall once exceed and passe those yeeres, then are they to shift for themselues, and like birds that are flush, to forsake the nest, and like Hounds that are readie to be entred, nose out their owne liuing, and goe abroad, and bring home their prey at vsuall and ordina­rie houres.

Item, We will and command, That no begger giue consent, or suffer his children to serue, to be bound Prentice to any Trade, or to waite vpon any man, whom he shall acknowledge for his Master. For their gaines will be lit­tle, and their labour much: And therein they shall greatly offend, by not fol­lowing the steps of their forefathers, and running a course quite contrary to that good way, wherein they haue beene borne and bred.

Item, We will and command, That by seuen of the morning in the Winter, and at fiue in the Summer, no begger be in his bed, or keepe his lodging, but by breake of day, as soone as the Sunne shall be ready to peepe forth, or some halfe houre before they goe abroad to gather honey for their hiue. And like­wise, that some halfe an houre before the shutting in of the Euening, he by all meanes, and at all times retire himselfe, and get him home; saue only in some cases reserued, and that with our especiall leaue and licence.

Item, We permit and giue leaue, that they may breake their fast in the morning, [...]ating a morsell of some thing or other, if they haue laboured for their liuing, and gotten any thing the same morning, and not otherwise. For therein they lose time (which is a precious thing) and spend vpon the stocke, by diminishing the principall. But with condition, that he wash and clense his mouth, that the sent thereof be not perceiued; As likewise, that he passe not vp and downe the streets, or by any mans house, playing with a cloue of Garlicke in his hand, a sliced Onion, or that his breath smell of Wine; vpon paine of being held incapable and vnfit to begge.

Item, We will and command, that no man dare to play the Impostor, or commit any grosse villanie, as to steale houshold-stuffe, or helpe to conuey it away, or exchange it for other, or to vntyle houses, or strip children of their cloathes, or to commit any the like base action, vpon paine of being excluded from our brotherhood, and put out of our incorporation, and to be remitted ouer to the secular power.

Item, Our will and pleasure is, that euery begger, when he shall be of full age; that is, (three yeeres after twelue, being fully complete and ended) hauing legally and worthily laboured in that course of life, and attained to [Page 197] the true arte of this our free and noble Profession, he be held, taken, knowne, and vnderstood (be it any such manner of person or persons) to haue fulfilled the Law, and comply'd with the Statute: notwithstanding, that two other yeeres to gaine experience, and to learne how to driue the Xauega is the Span [...]sh word, which is a Fishers net at Sea, wherewith by little and little, they goe drawing and haling the fish to the shore, where certaine Picaros and Rogues are still waiting for to pull and tugge at the c [...]rdes of the net, whom they call Los de la Xauega. It is an Arabick word, which in it's owne termination is said to bee Xibquetum, of the Verbe Xeb­que, which sig­nifieth, to intrap, or bring into the Net. fish into the net, haue alwaies to this very day and present houre, beene thought very necessa­rie and expedient; and euer after to be held as a Graduate, that hath perfor­med his exercise, and taken Degree amongst vs. And hauing thus profest himselfe, and made proofe of his learning and manners, we farther will and command, that he haue, hold, and inioy all the Liberties, Priuiledges, and exemptions granted by vs vnder our great Seale; but with this condition, that he neither may, nor at any time doe forsake our seruice, and that hee shew his obedience vnto vs, by obseruing our Lawes and Statutes, and by submitting himselfe to our Censure, in case he shall offend against them.

CHAPTER III.

BEsides these Ordinances, they had many other which they duly kept and obserued, not worthy at this time to be spo­ken of, which were prescribed and compiled by the aduice and counsell of the famousest Rogues in Italy, euery one (in his time) setting downe such Lawes, as then seemed most conuenient. So that it might be said of them, that they were another new Recopilation, or gathering together of those of Castile. These were much illustrated in those daies by one, whose proper name was Alberto, whose surname Mizer Morcon: Whom in Rome, we had made choyce of Mizer Mor­con, Generall and Superinten­dent ouer the beggers. for our Generall; Who, for his stature, shape, proportion of body, his fashi­on, conuersation, and commendable carriage, deserued to haue the Imperiall Crowne set vpon his head. For he farre surpassed all his Predecessours, who were no way to be compared vnto him, so farre did he outstrip all them that had gone before him. He might deseruedly be stiled the Prince of Roguerie, and the Arch-begger of Christendome. Hee would deuoure you at one meale, all the tripes and intrailes of two good sheepe, together with the pud­dings that were made of them, besides the Trotters, a whole Cowes Vdder, ten pound of bread, vnboulted and vnsifted, betweene the beginning and end of dinner, allowing himselfe thereunto in drinke, two Euery A­çumbre, we de­uide into foure measures, which we call in Spaine, quar­tillos. An Açumbre, may be said also to be a great [...]ig Iarre, or Pitcher fill [...]d with wine. Açumbres of Wine. And albeit he himselfe alone got more almes in one day then any sixe of those ordinarie beggers, which gained most; yet had he neuer any ouer­plus left, nor did sell any of those scraps, that were giuen him, nor did receiue any money, which he did not presently drinke out. And he did goe so farre beyond vs, and was euery way so much our superiour, that we must of force (as Vassals to his good or bad fortune) succour and relieue him all that wee could. I neuer saw him buttond, nor couered from the girdle vpward, neuer to weare any girdle, nor so much as halfe a hose or shoe vpon foot or legge; His head was euermore bare, his beard close shauen, and his skinne all ouer his body did shine and glister, as if it had beene anointed and basted with Bacon. This Vpright-man did ordaine, that euery poore body should carry about with him a woodden dish in the crowne of his hat, or some other con­uenient [Page 198] place, and the dried rinde of a Pumpion, wherein to put his Wine, clapping it in some close place, where it might not be seene.

That no begger should carry any iarre or pot about him, wherein to drinke Orders, set downe by Morcon, King of Beggers. his water. But when he came to drinke, he should sup it out of a Caldron, a Kettle, a great earthen Pan, some broad Tub, or huge Vatte, or the like, and then too, to thrust in his head like a beast, and not in any other manner.

That he, that should not drinke a sound draught after his Sallet, should bee made incapable to drinke afterwards, as long as that supper, or dinner lasted, and to rise vp a thirst.

That no begging Rogue should buy, or eate any Comfits, Conserues, or the like sweet things.

That euery one should eate either Salt, or Pepper with his meat, vnlesse it haue beene therewith seasoned before. In that case, the doing, or not doing of it, shall be left to his owne liberty.

That your poore Rogues shall be bound to sleepe vpon the ground in their cloathes, without Pillow or Bolster, lying vpon their backs, with their faces vp to heauen.

That hauing gotten inough to spend that day he goes a begging, hee shall trouble himselfe no farther, nor begge any more for that day, but giue way to others to gleane, where he left off.

This our Mizer Morcon, when he did eate, would lye lazing all along vpon the ground, and would sleepe both Winter & Summer, without any couering of Sheet, Blanket, or any thing else that might keepe him warme.

Ten moneths of the yeere, he neuer went out of Tauernes, and victualling houses; We had (as you haue heard) our Lawes and Orders amongst vs, all which I committed to memory, and was perfect in them, but did obserue no more of them, saue such as appertained to good gouernment, and of these I was euery way as religious, and obseruant, as if my saluation had depended vpon the true keeping of them. I made it my chiefe happinesse, and placed a kinde of felicitie therein, that my Actions might credit my Profession, and become absolute in my calling. For things, that are once imitated & begun by vs, when we haue taken them in hand, are not easily to be forgotten, nor to be giuen ouer, till they be fully finished, and ended. For it is a note of small pru­dence, to enter vpon many things, and to end none of them.

I did not put my hand to any thing, that euer I tooke it away, till I saw my labour ended, and had fully effected what I had vnder-taken. But because as yet I was but greene fruit, and not come to my full ripenesse, whereby I wan­ted much of my true rellish, I failed much in the practicke part of my professi­on, and fell short dayly in such casualties as did vsually offer themselues vnto me, and in many of them I did much erre.

Vpon a Feast-day, about the beginning of In Italy in that [...] it is [...] at that time of day. September, towards on [...] of the clock in the afternoone, I went forth into the Citie in that great heat, and such a scorching Sunne, that I am not able to expresse it, perswading my selfe, that whosoeuer should heare me begge at that time of day, would verily thinke, that I was wondrous hungry, and taking pitie of me, would relieue me with some thing or other.

I would needs (meerely out of curiositie, and no other end else in the world) see what I could get at these vnseasonable houres. I walkt my Stations through Guzman re­c [...]s the tricks vsed by Begg [...]rs: And a [...] that was put vp [...] [...]. some streets, & visited many houses, but could get nothing frō them, saue euill words, giuing me foule language, and many a bitter curse, asking me in a Di­uels name what I made there? And so roming about from house to house, I came at last to one, where I knockt at the doore with my Staffe, but no body would answere me. I knockt the second time, and the third, but all was one. Then I inlarged my voice, and began in the highest key I could reach, to set out my throat, and to begge as loud as I could for my life. For the house was [Page 199] very great, and stood farre within, and therefore supposed they could hardly heare me, vnlesse I strained my note a little higher. Whilest I was thus balling at the doore, a roguish Boy of the Kitchen, who (as it should seeme) was scou­ring of Dishes, came iust to the same window, vnder which I directly stood, and threw downe vpon me a great bucket of scalding water; and when hee saw it had fairely lighted vpon me, he leisurely vtters: Aqua va, quardaos debaxo. Ware water, looke to your selues there below. With that I began to cry out, that all the street did ring of me, grieuously complaining, that I vvas kill'd by some of that house, and that it was impossible I should liue. True it is, that I was scalded, but not in that cruell manner as I made my crimi­nation.

With this vociferation of mine, and the lamentable exclamation that I made, the people flockt about me, and euery one spake what he thought: One said, it was ill done; another, that it was mine owne fault; and that, though myselfe had no minde to sleepe, yet I ought in good manners to suffer others to take their rest.

There were some others, that did comfort me the best they could, and of those that were some-what more tender-hearted then the rest, I made a shift to picke vp some money amongst them, and with the helpe of that, I went first where I might dry my selfe, & afterwards got me home to take my rest; muttering to my selfe, as I went along, Who (with a pocks) made me so cu­rious, as to goe about to remoue the Riuer out of his bed? When shall I bee able to containe my selfe? When shall I learne to content my selfe with that, which shal be fit and necessarie for me, without incroaching vpon that, which is not conuenient for me? What Diuell did deceiue me, and dr [...]w mee out of that ordinarie tracke, which I was wont to tread, by making mee to be more forward then the rest of my fellowes? I drew neere at last to mine owne lod­ging, and there hard by dwelt an old poore man, about some threescore and ten yeeres of age; who was borne of beggerly Parents, that had borne Of­fice in our Incorporation, and had left this trade of begging vnto him by in­heritance, wherewith he made a shift to liue, and to passe his life away heere vpon earth.

He was of Cordoua, there was he borne: Which I the rather tell you, that A B [...]gger that was a Cordo­uese, teacheth Guzman many lessons concerning the Art of beg­ging. you may know that he was dy'de in his wooll, a notable Rogue in graine, whom his Mother brought to Rome sucking at her brest, in the yere of Iubilee.

When he saw me passe by in that miserable pickle, looking for all the world like a dish-clout, all wet, all to be-moyl'd, foule and full of grease, and all to be spatter'd with the refuse leaues of Coleworts, and the ouer-sodden empty H [...]sks of Pease, wherewith my garments were imbroidered all ouer; he askt me what had hapned vnto me? I acquainted him with the whole successe of the businesse. He was ready to burst himselfe with laughing, and hauing made himselfe merry a while at my mis-fortune, composing his countenance, with a settled kinde of grauity, in the end he said thus vnto me:

I feare me (my friend Guzman) that you will proue another Benitillo, you are such a Hot-spurre, and your young bloud boyles so fast within you, that you would faine come to be a Master, before you haue attain'd to be a Scholler. Doest thou not now perceiue, that thou hast done ill, in exceeding thy Com­mission, and in breaking those customes, that are ordered and ordained by the Company? Yet, because thou art my Country-man, and a yong Lad (and [...] apt to erre) I will teach and instruct thee, what thou oughtest to doe, and how to behaue thy selfe. Sit thee downe by mee, and hearken well to that which I shall say vnto thee.

And first of all, I would haue thee to consider, That you must not goe a begging in the Summer time presently after dinner, when most men are dis­posed to Sestear, i. reposar ala Sombra en la hora de Sexta. Que es la del medio di [...]. Y [...]r Spaniards▪ generally [...] after dinner all the Summer time. Sestear, and to lye downe and take a Nap, in some place of shade, [Page 200] or some coole roome; and lesse at Noble mens houses, then those of your Trades-men, and Cittizens. The houre is im-proper, and vnfit, and all of them then either doe, or at least are desirous to take their rest. And it would be as strange, as troublesome vnto them, that any should then offer to wake them; And importunities, at that time of all other, are most irkesome, and vnplea­sing vnto them.

Next, I would haue thee take this Rule of me, (and it is a true one) That when you haue call'd or knock't at one doore twice, either there is nobody within, or they will not be within, because they are not willing to answere. When thou perceiu'st that, get thee gone, and stay there no longer; for thou maist well lose thy time, but thou shalt get no money.

Neuer offer to draw a Latch, or to thrust open a doore that is put to, nor to enter within the house. For it hapneth sometime in the opening of a doore, that (without the knowledge of those of the house, not once dreaming of any such accident) a dogge may suddenly rush fiercely forth vpon thee, and carry away halfe a Buttocke at a bit. Nor doe I know how these scuruy Curs should come to know vs, so well as they doe, but I am sure we are hated by them, and they wil neuer let vs passe by them, without barking, or biting. And if the Dog should be missing, some desperate roguish Boy or other will not faile to fall vpon thee, telling thee that, which thou wouldst be loth to heare. And it is well if thou scape him so.

When thou beggest for an Almes, thou must not laugh, nor change thy note, but so tune thy voice, that it may carry the show of one that is sicke, though thou haue health inough for thy selfe, and some to spare for thy neigh­bours; hauing a speciall care, that your face keepe an euen correspondence with your eyes; your mouth it's equall and iust compasse, and your head ben­ding towards your bosome.

Rubbe thy face a mornings, when thou risest, with a cloth that is rather dankish, then dung-wet, that when thou goest abroad, thou maist seeme nei­ther faire, nor foule. And on thy cloathes, clap many patches, though they bee neuer so hole; and let them be of diuers colours. For it much im­porteth, that a poore mans cloathes should be rather patch't, then neat and cleanely; yet so, that they be not so slouenly, as to cause loathsomenesse.

It will sometimes so fall out, that comming to a man to begge an Almes, hee will take off his Gloue, and put his hand into his pocket, whereof thou wilt be glad, and laugh to thy selfe, thinking that he hath a purpose to bestow an Almes vpon thee, whē as in the end thou shalt see him only pull out his Hand­kerchiefe to blow his Nose. But for all this, thou must not bee angry, nor seeme to grumble at the matter, for it may be some other may bee by him, which will giue thee some-what, though he doe not. Whereas, if he shall per­ceiue thy proud and sullen carriage, he will giue thee nothing.

Where, thou shalt finde thy selfe well vsed, see thou repaire thither dayly: For as Deuotion shall abound, so shall thy Stocke increase. But see, that thou neuer depart from his doore, till thou haue pray'd for his friends that are de­ceased, and to intreat of God, that he will be pleased to blesse and prosper him in all his Actions.

Answere euill language, with milde words, and to rough speech, apply soft tearmes; For thou art a Spaniard, and for our pride (being ill belou'd) we are abhorred of all, wheresoeuer we come; And he that will draw money out of another mans purse, must rather begge, then brawle; craue, then curse; Prou. La bezerra mansa, mama de madre age­na, y dela suya. pray, then blaspheme. For a gentle Calfe sucks milke from a strange teat, as well as from his damm's.

When they shall not giue thee an Almes, answere with deuotion, God bee thanked: God blesse your Worship, and grant much health, peace, and con­tent to this house, for the great good, and mercy, that you daily doe, & shew [Page 201] vnto the poore. This tricke got mee a great deale of money; for answering them so gently and [...]o mildly, holding vp my hands, and lifting vp my eyes vnto heauen, they would call me backe againe, and giue me of that they had.

Besides all this, he taught me how to faigne my selfe a Leaper, to make wounds in my flesh, to raise a swelling in my legge, to benumme an arme, to set a counterfeit colour on the face, to alter the whole body, and other curi­ous principles of his Art; to the end that some might not twit vs in the teeth, and vpbraidingly say vnto vs; that our limmes were sound, and our selues strong and healthy, that wee should worke for our liuing, and that it were no charitie, to relieue such lusty stout young Rogues. He did me many friendly Offices, he had many curious secrets of nature, whereof he made good vse; Nor did he hide any thing from me; for he found me very capable, and apt to receiue whatsoeuer he should put into me; And then he began to say vnto me, You see my foot is already in the stirrop to goe vnto my graue, and I would willingly leaue a Chaplaine behinde me to pray vnto God for me. And it fell out true as he said; for within a short time after he died.

Wee did some of vs meet many times together, to repeate our parts, and to make shew, what manner of exclamations would best become vs, and make most for our profit; These we studied by night, inuenting diuers me­thodes and formes of benediction. There was a poore man that got his liuing only by making these formes for vs, and did sell them vnto vs, at the rate of so many Comedies or Tragedies. And all was little enough, and no more then needed, to moue mons mindes, and to stirre them vp to compassion.

On festiuall dayes we would be vp betimes, where the Pardons and In­dulgences were stirring, that we might prouide vs some good place in the Church; for it was no small benefit vnto him, that could get neere vnto the Font where the Holy-water was, or to that little Chappell, whither they were to make their station.

Wee would now and then goe a Progresse, and runne ouer all the Countrie, not leauing out a Village, nor so much as a Cottage bordering there-abouts, which we did not goe vnto; Whence, we came very well furnisht: For they would giue vs Bacon, Cheese, Bread, and Eggs in great abundance, besides cloathes to couer our nakednesse, pittying very much our poore and miserable condition.

Wee would many times begge a draught of Wine for Gods sake, complay­ning much of the paine and weakenesse of our stomacke. As much as you will, would they say, if you haue any thing wherein to put it.

Wee alwaies carried a little Iarre with vs, vnder colour of drinking water in it, which held somewhat lesse then halfe an Açumbre; They would euer­more fill it brim-full, before they gaue it vs; But we were no sooner gone from that doore, but we did presently empty it into a Bota, qua­si imbuta, of the Latine Verbe, Imbuo. It is in briefe, a Bottle or Boracha made of Let [...]r, to carry Wine in. Bota, which one of our This word is margented before Company carried behinde him at his girdle, which would well hold some foure Açumbres. And I remember it was once our hap to fill it full in one street alone, so that we were inforced to goe home, and powre it forth into a little earthen vessell (which they call a Tinajuela) and then came backe a­gaine to get more.

We vsually went shod, but as good haue beene vnshod, our heads couered, but as good haue gone bare; So that we had shooes, and no shooes; hats, and no hats; For our shooes were sandal-fashion, old enough, and torne enough, and our hats were sutable vnto them; the one would scarce hang on our feet, the other scarce sit on our heads.

Wee seldome wore any shirt at all. For, when (according to our accusto­med humilitie) we should craue an almes at such a doore, they would ordina­rily say, Pardon me (my friend;) I haue not for you. God helpe you. I will giue you something at another time. Then we begin anew, and cry; An old paire [Page 202] of shooes, or an old hat (good Master) for this poore soule, that hath neuer a shoot to his foot to beare him out of the durt, nor neuer a hat to defend his head from the Sunne and the raine; Gods holy name be praised. The Lord blesse your Worship; and deliuer your good Worship from such a deale of The fashions of Beggers in beg­ging an almes. miserie and wretchednesse, as we poore creatures indure. God multiply his blessings vpon you, and free you and yours, and all that you haue, from the power of Traitors and Villaines; Christ Iesus guard your Worship, and giue you health both of body and soule, which is the greatest wealth of all, and the truest riches.

If after this he shall reply: Indeed (brother) I haue not for you, I can not pleasure you at this time, excuse me.

Then, vpon the necke of that comes another replicant, and he laies about him, beseeching him to bestow vpon him some old shirt, though neuer so ragged and torne, for to couer the [...]esh, and to cure the wounds of this poore miserable man, and that he shall finde it againe in heauen, and that God will one day couer him againe with the cloathing of his mercy, and put vpon him a newer and a whiter stole of innocencie and righteousnesse, that shall neuer weare out. I begge it of you for Iesus Christ his sake, he knowes my wants, and that I am not able to worke and labour for my liuing. The Lord helpe me; And the Lord reward you. And praised be that pure vnspottednesse of ou [...] blessed Lady the Virgin Mary.

Now tell me, what heart is there in the world, though of Iasper, and what bowels, though as tough as Iron, and as hard as steele, which will not bee made malleable with this hammer, and melt into compassion with the heat and warmth of so many good words?

Few houses did escape vs, without some one purchase or other. And neuer a paire of shooes could be so bad, no hat so vile, and no shirt so old, that was giuen vs, but yeeld vs more then a piece of three pence. To vs it was much, but to him that parted with it, of no profit, and lesse reckning. It was to vs a mine in the I conce [...]e [...], Serro de Potosi, to bee some hill or mountaine in the West Indies, be­ing a principall Mine among the rest, that yeelded great store of treasure. Scrro de Potosi: We had Morchants and Brokers for euery one of these things, who would lay vs downe money for them on the boord, per­fumed and washt ouer with the water The Spanish word which is, Aqua de los Angeles, is so called by the Spa­niards, because it is of an extraor­dinary sweetnes, distilled out of diuers different flowers, and Aro­maticall drugges. of Angels.

We had vpon the way certaine little Asses, whereon we did ride by turnes, when any store of raine f [...]ll, that we might the better passe ouer the Riuers, when the waters were risen. And if we did light by chance vpon any person, that seemed to beare the face of authoritie, we began to call vpon him a farre off, many a large step before we came at him to the end that he might haue leisure enough to pull out his Purse, and take forth an almes; for if we should stay our begging till we did iust incounter each other, many would forbeare to giue vs, lest they might be hindred in their iourney, and so we should goe without it. And taking this course, we did seldome misse.

Other-whiles, when we saw fit occasion and time for it, vpon discouerie of some companie of people that came trooping together, we would prepare our selues to put on a counterfeit lamenesse, to fall a halting, and betake vs to our Crutches: we would change our lookes, alter our countenances, take one another vp vpon our backs, writhe our mouthes, turne the lids and balls of our eyes vp to heauen, some feigning themselues dumbe, other-some crippled, and blinde, making shew that wee could not goe but vpon Stilts, when as in­deed we were as nimble and light-footed as the Bucke. We would clap our feet in a trice in certaine Swathes, that hung at our necks for that purpose, and carry our armes in a string, so that with these counterfeit tricks, and the helpe of good language, desiring God to send them well on their iourney, and that he would preserue their limmes, and blesse their eye-sight, and bring them safe to their iournies end, did alwaies bring vs in money. And these we did call our Aduentures, because these good fortunes befell vs abroad in [Page 203] strange Countries, in places that were desart and vnpeopled, and because commonly it succeeded well with vs. But otherwise, we did goe no farther then what was precisely set downe vnto vs, and was held to be necessarie for the performance of our Progresse.

We had one excellent gift aboue all the rest, That there was not any Feast, where we were not present, getting vs some one good place or other; nor any Banquet: whereof we had not a part; Our noses were so good, that wee could smell such things some ten streets off.

Wee had no house at all, yet euery house was ours; For either a Cardinals, an Embassadours, or some Noble-mans Porch or other did neuer faile vs; And if all, or any of these did faile vs, the Church Porches were free, and no body could there put vs out. So that hauing no proprietie in any thing, wee did not withstanding possesse euery thing.

There were some likewise, that had old ruinous Castles, decayed buildings, and other poore lodgings not worth any thing, where we did make our Ren­devous: For all were not permitted to be Aduenturers, nor all allowed The Spanish word is Puche­ro: An earthen Pot, or Pipkin, wherein they boyle las Puches. Now Puches, is a kinde of dressing and see­thing of meale and Oyle together. Which in ancient time, was much vsed before the inuention of ba­king bread was found out. Latinè, Pultes. Couarruuias. Verbe Puches, y Puchero. Pip­kins to boyle their meat in; But I (who was but a young strippling) looke where I was ouer-night, I would be sure to be there againe the next day; So that albeit I had many times bad lodging, yet my youth bore it out, and it seemed to me as good as the best.

CHAP. IIII.

ONe true signe, and assured token of our predestination, is the A good marke of Predestmation. Pitie and Compassion which wee haue of our neighbour. For, to haue a fellow-feeling of another mans miserie, (as if the case were our owne) is a deed of Charitie, which coue­reth Charity, of what force it is. a multitude of sinnes; and where there is loue, there is God; and he euermore plentifully dwelleth in those hearts by his holy Spirit, where Charitie and mercy aboundeth. All things, with it, haue life and being; without it, dye, and come to no­thing. For, neither the gift of Prophecie, nor the vnderstanding of Mysteries, nor the knowledge of God, no nor Faith it selfe, without charitie, is any thing at all, but is all as nothing. To loue my neighbour, as I loue my selfe, is of all other, the richest and the greatest Sacrifice; because it is offred vp in To loue our neighbour, is a great Sacrifice. the Temple of the euer-liuing God. And the merit is as great (through the mercy of our Sauiour Iesus Christ) to be truly sensible of our brothers mi­serie and vndoing; as is the pleasure that we take, that our selues should bee saued.

Charitie is the end of the Commandements, it is the only marke, whereat The charitable man is fauoured of God. the precepts of the Law doe shoot. And hee that shall be charitable, shall finde the Lord mercifull vnto him in the day of his tryall. And because with­out God, we are not able to merit any thing of our selues, and for that Chari­tie is the gift of God, it is very fit and necessarie, that we should begge it at his hands with teares, and doe workes worthy the obtaining of it, moystning with those precious drops, the great drought that we suffer in our soules, and mollifying there with the hardnesse of our hearts, that they may bring forth the fruits of good Workes, which are the effects of a true and liuely faith. For, the humble and contrite spirit shall neuer be forsaken, but God will ra­ther still succour and supply him with his grace, bestowing his best fauours [Page 204] vpon him, and inriching him with many notable and knowne benefits.

And albeit Riches (being so neere a neighbour as it is vnto Pride) be an occa­sion of Vice, weakning, and infeebling those our other Vertues, though it bee dangerous to it's Owner; though it be a tyrannizing Lord, and a trayterous Slaue; yet notwithstanding it is of the nature of Sugar, which hath this condi­tion Riches, compared to Sugar. and propertie belonging vnto it, that (if it be sweet and good, and hath not lost his fauour) with warme things, it warmeth and giueth heat, and with cold things, it cooleth and refresheth. To the rich, it serues as an Instrument and meanes (by the helping hand of Charitie) to buy eternall blessednesse. And that man shall be charitable, and truely rich, who making the poore man rich, shall make himselfe, of a rich man, poore. For thereby, hee shall make the world to know, that hee is a true Disciple of his Sauiour Iesus Christ.

I stood one day in the outward Court of a Cardinals house, hard by the Porch, closely wrapt and muffled vp in a great Russet Cloake, iust of the same What manner of Cloake Guz­man had? colour as it came from the Sheepes backe, without any other Dye in the world: which was so full of Patches, one clapt vpon another, which I had sowne so of purpose, that (where it had least) it was no lesse then of three threds, so that you could not at all, or very hardly discerne the ground of it's owne true colour. It was as hard and as stiffe as any boord, and for all wea­thers, farre better then your fastest Felt, or your closest-wrought Rugge, or any other frized cloth in the world; for it was wondrous warme, and no ayre, water, nor cold would passe thorow it, and I was about to say (please it you to excuse the excesse of the phrase) that no arrow was able to pierce it.

Whilst I was thus waiting, there comes mee in a Cauallero to visit the Cardinall, seeming both by his Person, and his Attendants, to bee a Gentle­man of principall ranke and quality. Who, when he saw mee standing there in this manner, thought verily with himselfe, that I was sicke of an Ague, and that I had then my cold fit vpon me: when as indeed the cause that I lookt so pittifull was, that I had layen there in the Porch the night before; and because it was winter time, and that the ayre was fresh, and the winde blew cold, I was willing to keep me where I was, till the day had aduanced it selfe a little more forward.

He look't earnestly vpon me, and after he had well view'd me, he stood still, A Gentleman sees Guzman, he lookes vpon him, pi [...]es [...]im, giues him an almes, and prai­seth God. and beckned me vnto him. I sneak't out my head, when I came neere vnto him, and being amazed on the sudden, and much astonished, to see a man of his worth approche so neere vnto [...]ee, my countenance did come and goe, and began strangely to change and alter it selfe, not knowing why, or where­fore, or what should be the cause of this sudden alteration.

He (good Gentleman) thought that I did shake and tremble, and kindely said vnto me; Put on thy Hat, my Boy, put on, I say, and couer thy head; God comfort thee, and send thee well: And with that putting his hand into his pocket, he tooke out all that he had, which vvas a matter of some thirteene Royals and a halfe, and gaue them mee. I tooke them, and was so rauished therewith, that I was almost beside my selfe, as well in regard of the liberal­nesse of the Almes, as to see how he went away from me, lifting vp his eyes vnto heauen.

And, I verily beleeue, that he said to himselfe, as he went along; Let (O Lord) the Angels blesse thee, and all those Courtiers, that wait on thee in thy A worthy consi­deration. heauenly Kingdome; Let all the spirits of heauen praise and magnifie thy holy name, for men doe not know how to honour thee, they are rude and ignorant creatures. O Lord, how much am I bound vnt thee! that I beeing made of no better metall then this poore man, and perhaps borne of no bet­ter bloud then he, should sleepe and take my rest in my soft bed whilest he is forced to lye on the hard ground; should goe thus well clad as I doe, whilest [Page 205] he remaines naked, and comfortlesse; should be thus rich, as I am, and hee so poore; that I should be sound, and he sicke; I admitted, and he despised: And whereas thou mightst (by exchanging only of our places) haue bestow'd all that vpon him, which thou hast conferr'd on me; Yet (O Lord) thou hast been pleased to deale otherwise with me; and thou thy selfe best knowest why, and wherefore. Saue me (sweet Iesu) by that precious bloud, which thou shed­dest for my sinnes. For this shall be my true riches, to lay fast hold vpon thee: for hauing thee, I haue all things; and not hauing thee, I haue nothing. I say, that this Gentleman knew very well how to imploy those Talents, vvhich God had put into his hands; not considering so much to whom he gaue, as for whose sake he gaue. Looking well vpon me, and looking well into him­selfe, weighing my wretched, and his happy condition, he gaue me all that he had, with a franke hand, and a free heart; the one being as full of bounty, as the other of compassion.

Such good soules as these, did (in the exercising of their Charity) gaine heauen by our hands, and we (wicked Villaines) haue lost it by theirs; since, through To begge without need, may get vs money, but lose [...] heauen. the greedy desire that we haue to receiue, being still crauing & begging when we haue no need, we rob those thereof that are in true want, suffering this Vice of ours to vsurpe vpon anothers Office. We went still full gorg'd, grea­ter gluttons and drunkards the world did not affoord; our sides were ready to cracke with gurmandizing, and our braines to burst with bowzing; your Senators of Rome could not liue more merrily then we did, for wee were as tall trencher-men, and as good Epicures as the best of them. And albeit vve are not so much respected, nor liue not in that repute and esteeme as they doe; yet our manner of life hath a great deale more ease in it, and I am sure, a great deale lesse trouble.

And we haue besides two such Priuiledges, as none of them all, no not the best man in Rome hath the like. The one is a kinde of liberty that wee haue The great priui­ledges belonging vnto Beggers. in begging, yet neuerthelesse doe not loose our liberty, which is not so with your better sort of men. For misery hath no greater misery with it, then when a man is forced to be beholding to such or such a friend to succour and relieue his wants, though this helpe should come from the free hand of his owne naturall brother. For hee buyes at a deare rate, that receiues this kind­nesse; and farre more dearely does he sell, who giues to him that is of a thanke­full nature. And if on this point of begging, I might boldly speake my opinion, it is the worstmis fortune, that can befall a poore mans life, when he once comes to be driuen to beg out of meere necessity. For although it be freely gi­uen, yet the very crauing therof doth cost him much. Moreouer, I shal tell thee what is the cause, that begging doth so much vexe a man, and why it goes so much against his stomake, which is; That man beeing a perfect reasonable Why it grieues a mans heart to begge. creature, like vnto God himselfe (as himselfe saith) for when he was to make man (the most blessed Trinity assisting at that Creation) God said; Let vs make Man after our owne Image and likenesse. (And I could also tell thee, how this is to be vnderstood, but it is not proper for this time and place.) Well, Man was made, and comming forth into the world, we are all of vs naturally in­clined Man, whereunto he is inclined. to deifie our selues, seeking as much as in vs lyeth, to come neere vnto God; nay, (if it were possible) to be gods. And with this thirst, we still grow dryer and dryer; and with this hunger, waxe weaker and weaker.

We see, that God created all things: we would faine doe the like. And see­ing we can not doe it, as his diuine Maiestie did, of nothing, we would doe it of something, as farre forth as our ability hath power to stretch, seeking to conserue indiuidua Specierum, the indiuiduals of euery Species, or seuerall kinds vpon earth. The bruit beasts in the Fields; the Fishes, in the Waters; the Plants, in the Earth: And so euery thing in it's nature, that is in the world. He beheld those workes, which he had made with his owne hands, and they see­med [Page 206] to him very good, as proceeding from those blessed and powerfull hands of his. He tooke delight in looking vpon them, for they were made to his minde. This passeth currant at this day, as it is set downe in the letter. And we likewise are desirous to doe, or at least to counterfet the like; striuing to imitate him all that we may.

How well doe I like that Bird, that I haue bred vp in mine owne house? That Lambe, which hath beene reared in mine owne Farme? That Tree, Euery man loues his owne. which hath been planted in mine owne Orchard? That Flower, which hath sprung vp in mine owne Garden? What comfort doe I take in looking vpon them? how does it ioy me, to see them to thriue and prosper? Insomuch, that what my selfe haue not bred, made, or planted with mine own hands, although it be otherwise very good in it selfe, I wil not stick to pluck it vp by the roots, & cast it away from me, & neuer grieue therat, it shal neuer trouble me: wher­as that, which is the work of mine own hands; the deare child of my industry; the fruit of my labours, though it be not so good as the other; yet because it is my own handy-work, I like it, & I loue it. From my neighbours or my friends Tree, I will not onely take away the Flower, and the fruit, but I will not so much as leaue a leafe, or a sprigge therevpon, and if I haue a minde thereunto, I will not greatly care to cut it downe to the ground. But if it be mine owne, and that I haue planted it with mine owne hands, it would grieue my very soule, if I should finde but a Pism [...]re, or a Caterpiller vpon it, to doe it any hurt, or to see a Bird but to p [...]cke at it; and all because it is mine. In a word, we doe all of vs loue our owne workes. And so, in wishing well vnto them, I am like to him that made me, and haue it from him by inheritance.

The like is true in all other actions. It is very proper in God to giue; and Gods great [...]esse, and mans base­nesse. very improper, to craue. Vnlesse, when he requireth something of vs for our owne good. For that which he asketh of vs, it is not for himselfe, neither hath he any need thereof; for he is Remedium totius necessitatis: The onely re­lieuer of all o [...]r wants, and the onely satisfier of the hungry. He hath much, and therefore is able to giue much; and nothing can be wanting vnto him. He doth communicate and impart vnto all according to their seuerall necessities, easi­lier then thou canst take water out of the Sea, and with a farre larger hand; so great an in equalitie is there betwixt thy misery, and his mercy.

We would likewise be like to him in this: He made me according to his owne likenesse, and I ought accordingly to be like vnto him; euen as the thing instamp [...]d ought to be like vnto the Stampe. How mad, how eager, how de­sirous and how foolishly are we all bent vpon giuing? The Couetous, the sauing [...]n the Rich, the Vsurer, the Begger, all doe keepe and hoord vp for to giue. But the most of these men vnderstand least (as I told you before) when they are to giue, for they doe not giue, till they be dead. If thou aske these men, why they masse vp money, and why in their life-time they bury it vn­der ground, and to what end they doe it? Some will answere thee, that they lay it vp for their heires; others, for their soules; others, that they may leaue something behinde them, and all of them sure that they carry none of it away with them Thou seest then, how they are willing to giue and how out of its due time and season; like an vntimely birth, which comes not to perfection. But in the end, this is our end, this our desire.

How God like does a man finde himselfe, when with a generous minde To [...]aue w [...]e­with to [...], [...] a great [...] to a man. he hath wherewith to giue, and doth giue? How sweet and pleasing is his hand vnto him; how cheer [...]full his countenance; how quiet his heart; how contented his Soule? His gray haires are remoued; his bloud is refreshed; his life is inlarged. And (questionles) so much the more, by how much he knows, that he hath ability to do it, & is not afraid that he shall euer want. If wee be willing therefore to doe that, which he did; (for so did he with vs) let vs take as much pleasure to giue, as it would grieue vs at the heart to aske.

[Page 207] And those, towards whom Gods hand hath beene so franke and liberall. A r [...]ble spirit cannot begge. and hauing made them (which likewise is another particular gift of his) of a noble minde, if they finde themselues oppressed with want, and depriued of these their worldly goods, they will rather indure any misery whatsoeuer, then begge of another to relieue their wretched estates.

These are the men, of whom there is great pittie to be had, and these the What kinde of almes is nobly bestowd. whole world ought to relieue with a full hand. For by this it is knowne, who does them friendship, and shewes them any kindenesse, when seeing them in necessitie, they succour them, before they craue their helpe. For, if they should be put to that push, and be driuen to sue vnto them, they will neither giue, nor lend them. It is a debt which they pay them, and yet put it forth to Vsurie with aduantage. This is a friend indeed, which succours his friend in time of need: And this I call succour, The Spanish phrase, Esse [...]amo socorro, con el que corro. A poore begger, to whom he may be compared. when I concurre and run along with him. It becomes me to giue, but beseemes not him to aske. I am to runne equall fortunes with him. I must keepe an euen pace with him, nei­ther be too farre behinde him, nor too much before him.

If I haue entertained thee too long in this subiect, and haue not giuen thee satisfaction, pardon my ignorance, and accept my good will. So that the li­bertie of crauing, is permitted only to the poore; And in this we are equall with Kings and Princes, whose particular priuiledge it is, to demaund Subse­dies, and Ayde-money, which is no basenesse in them, howsoeuer it may be in others. But the difference is, that Kings craue of the Commons, for the Common good, and for to supply their necessarie occasions; But the poore, for themselues only, out of an euill custome, which they haue gotten.

That other Priuiledge, which I told you of, is that of the fiue Senses. Who is he now adaies in the world, that with larger licence, and freer libertie doth The libertie of the fiue Senses, by whom most inioyed. inioy them, then the poore man, or with greater securitie, or more content? Who doth so thorowly and so feelingly taste them as he? And because I haue named the word Taste, I will begin first with that.

There is not that pot, which we doe not skimme; nor that meat, which wee doe not proue; nor that banquet, wherein wee haue not a share. The Taste. Whither did that poore man euer come, that the house that deny'd him to day, did not giue him to morrow? He runnes thorow all mens houses, hee begs of them all, and he tastes of all: and he is best able to say, which house hath the best meat, and the best drest.

For the Hearing; Who heares more then the poore man doth? For being The Hearing. dis-interessed in all kinde of things, none are iealous that hee should heare them; in the open streets, in priuate houses, in publike Churches, in the Mar­ket-place, and in euery place, euery man treats freely of his businesse, without any suspition of him, though the matter be neuer so important. Sleeping be­sides a nights, vpon some bulke or stall in the streets, what musicke haue they bestowed vpon them, which we heare not? What Loue-tricks are they priuy to, which we know not? Nothing is kept secret from such poore beggerly Rascals as we bee. And for publike affaires, we haue by a thousand parts bet­ter intelligence, then all the world besides. For we heare that treated of in more parts, then all men else besides put all together.

For your seeing likewise: how freely may we inioy it, without being noted? nor aske vs the question why we gaze vpon them, nor offer to hinder vs from The Seeing. looking here, or looking there. How often haue I accused and condemned my selfe, when begging in the Church, mine eye hath beene wandring and rouing about? and chuckt and hugg'd my selfe, with the delight and pleasure that I haue taken therein? Or to speake downe-right English, and to declare my selfe more plainely, feeding mine eyes greedily on those Angelicall faces of your finest Ladyes, whose Louers did not dare to looke vpon them for feare of being noted: all which was freely permitted vnto vs.

[Page 208] For matter of smelling; Who can smell better then we, who are called by the name of Smell-Feasts? Besides, if any smell bee so much the better, by The Smelling. how much it is the more profitable; to vs, our owne Amber, and our owne Muske, is better and truer then all the rest, which is a cloue of Garlicke, which ordinarily we neuer goe without; as being a Preseruatiue against all contagious corruption whatsoeuer. And if we be desirous of any other o­dours, we then get vs to the corner of some one street or other, where these things are commonly sold, and there we satisfie our sense of smelling with the sweet perfume of Ierkins, and of Gloues, some ciuited, and some powdred, that are there laid out for show, till the dust and powder of them come flying into our eyes, and our nostrils.

Will you happely say, that the sense of Touching is wanting vnto vs? And The Touching. that neuer any good thing came yet to our hands? Lament your ignorance. What such difference I pray, is there betwixt pouertie and beautie? Wee poore beggers touch and handle as good ware as the rich, and inioy as prettie Commo [...]ties; but all men doe not vnderstand this Mysterie. There be some poore men, which for all their beggerie and pouertie, maintaine such a handsome Doxy as many a gre [...]t rich man woul [...] be glad to inioy with all his heart. And yet she had rather haue this poore man, that doth truly pay her her Tribute, and is not wanting vnto her in his loue, then a rich man, that shall defame, and misuse her. And how often haue some women giuen mee an almes with their owne hand (I know not what others haue done) but I out of my youth, would make bold to take hold of hers with mine; and in a kinde of deuout acknowledgement, would neuer let it goe, till I had kist it?

But these are but toyes to speake of, and meere fooleries, but aboue all these things the taste, the sight, smelling, hearing, and touching, the chiefest and truest of all the fiue Senses, put them all together, was that of those ruddy cheeks of your golden Ruddoc [...]s your Spanish Pistolets, your plum [...] and ful­fac't Portuguse, and your cleere-skinn'd pieces of eight of Castile, which we kept secret to our selues, and did priuately inioy in a plentifull manner; For to haue them, for to pay them away is not to inioy them; To inioy them, is To haue money, to pay it againe away, is not the inioying of money. to haue them lying by vs. hauing no other need of them, then to vse them for the cleering of the eye sight, and the comforting of our senses. Howbeit, some sticke not to say, [...], nuncase goza, hasta que se gasta. That he inioyes not his money, that does not spend it. These we did carry about with vs, sewing them in some patches of our doublets neere vnto the heart, and as close to the skinne, as we could handsomely quilt them in, holding them to be restoratiue. There was not anyone piece of a patch about vs, were it ne­uer so soule and neuer so vile, which was not worth a reasonable good sute of cloathes. We were all flush and f [...]ll of gold; For, hauing our dyet gratis, and feeding on free cost, the money which we got, we neuer spent. And as the Prouerbe is; Esse te rizo v [...]o, que te hizo el pico; He made thee rich, who Prouerb. Petit à petit l'offeau faict son nid. gaue thee whereon to picke. And grano à grano, hincha la gallina el Papa. Graine after graine, the Hen fils her craw. We grew many of vs to increase our Talent, till it came to a good round summe, where with many an honest man might haue lifted his feet from the ground, & not haue stucke in the mire. Rest thy selfe a while in this Inne; for in that our iourney, which we are to make to the Chapter following, you [...] all heare what hapned in Flo­rence to a poore man that died there, of the same time and standing with my selfe. Wherein you shall know, whether our Touching be not as good as other mens.

CHAPTER V.

IT is a very ordinary thing with your poorer sort of people, to become Plotters and Contriuers, watching night and day, and beating their braines, to seeke out some poore meanes how to liue, that they may not goe a begging from doore to doore, and still to lie (like Lazarus) at rich mens gates for reliefe, and yet starue perhaps in the end for want of a morsell of bread. This euery where befalls poore folkes. They (poore soules) are put to their shifts. And albeit it be said; that in mat­ter of cruelty, Italy beares the bell; and in Italy, those more particularly that are in, and about Genoa; yet I am not of beliefe, that the fault lies so much in The proudest, and hardest-harted people in Italy, are your Geno­ueses. the soyle of that place, as in the necessitie, and couetousnesse of the people. I meane those, that are of the right stampe, your miserable and hard-hearted Vsurers, whom they that are the natiue Citizens, and naturall Inhabitants of those parts, call by way of Nick-name, Moros blancos, white Moores. Now they, to reuenge themselues of them, and to returne it The Spanish phrase is, Echar­les las cabras. Now, Echar las cabras, is; when many hauing plaid together, who should win or lose, when they did rifle for any thing, there should be two losers, and that they might not part or deuide, but that one should pay all, and the other scape scot-free, they returne a­gaine to play. And this they cal Echar las cabras. Alluding to that which shepheards vse to doe, when they make a merry-meeting, and ha [...]e kill'd some Goats to make a feast, who play who shall pay for all, laying the losse vpon the two last. Couarruuias. Verbe Cabra. Conscience lost by whom, and how? home vpon them againe, say, Que quien descubre la Alcauala is a Tribute, Taxe, Tole, or Subsedi [...]. The common people haue a tale, That King Don Alonso the Wise, holding a Parliament at Burgos, said vnto the Procurators, Dadme gente, delque v [...] ­la. And from thence comes Alcauala, A supply of monies, which they gaue him. alcauala, esse la paga. Let him pay the toll, that first inuented it. For this was not (say they) spoken of them, nor is it so to be vnderstood; but of those great Dealers and Negociators of Genoa, who carrie their consciences in torne pockets, that are ript and vnsewed, whereby they quickly come to be lost, and scarce one amongst them all, that hath a good and a sound conscience. But one said, that this was not so, but would needs fetch the water a little farther off, that should driue this Mill; And therefore (said he) it was thus: That when the Genoueses send forth their children to schoole, they carry their consciences along with them, there at first they begin to play with them, then to wrangle and fall out about them; some forgetting that euer they brought any thither with them; and others (hauing lost them there at play) leaue them behinde them, and neuer thinke on them after.

Now, when the schoole comes to be swept, and these Consciences be found againe, they giue them to the Master, who carefully laies them vp in a Chest, and there locks them vp close, that they may no more be lost. And hee that hereafter shall haue need of one (if he can call to minde where he either left it, or laid it aside) he were best goe seeke it out himselfe, to see if he can light on the right one.

Now, because the Schoole-master hath the keeping of so many, and so mixed one amongst another, that he doth not know which is which, he giues him that which comes first to hand, and so the party goes away with it, think­ing verily that it is his owne Conscience, that he carries thus away with him, when as indeed it is not his, but either his friends Conscience, or his kins­mans, or some one or other of his acquaintance. And hence it comes to passe, that no man, bearing his owne Conscience in his owne bosome, euery man lookes and pries into that of another mans. And euer since that time, hath this ill report runne of them.

[Page 210] O Spaine, Spaine, my beloued Countrey, Faith's true keeper, God vphold thee with his hand: And as thou hast much of this in thee; so likewise, thou hast thy Schoole-Masters too, that truck one conscience for another; and men, as well as they, that hauing chopt consciences, goe away well contented, pre­suming all is right and streight, and that that which they haue is their owne.

How many forgetfull of themselues, busie themselues in those things, which Wholesome lessons for our Consci­ences. appertaine not vnto them? How vnaduisedly reprehend, sollicite, and cen­sure another mans conscience? My friend, this ought not to bee so; Looke well into thy selfe, with-draw this chopping and changing: First, throughly examine thine owne, doe not seeke for a mote in another mans eye, till thou hast pull'd the beame out of thine owne: and then thou wilt tell me another tale.

That which thou thinkest is a discharge to thy conscience, is a meere iest, To let other mens consciences alone, and to looke into our owne. and an idle toy, & therin thou doest but put a iest vpon thy selfe. Do not cloake thy sinne (thou Vsurer) saying; Such a one is a greater Vsurer then I am: Nor seeke to excuse thy selfe, by saying; Such a man is a worse thiefe then my selfe. Meddle not thou with another mans conscience; let that alone, and looke well into thine owne. This is that which concernes thee; This is that which imports thee most. Let euery man put that away from him, that is not his owne; and wherewith he hath nothing to doe. Let him not meddle nor make with it. Let him not settle his eyes vpon other mens sins, but cast them aside off. For it is neither the Idolatry of Salomon, nor the Sacriledge of Iudas, that shall excuse the like in thee: But euery man shall beare his owne burthen, and receiue such punishment, as his owne sinne hath deserued. Why doest thou incline, and leane vnto that, which is not onely ill, but also hurtfull vnto thee? Why doest thou not rather imitate that, which is good, and ver­tuous? following the example of him that fasteth, confesseth, communica­teth, repenteth him of his sinnes, and performeth many other actions of holi­nesse, and of a good and honest life? Is he peraduenture more man then thou art? Thou forbearest (like him that is sicke) to take that, which should cure thy sicknesse, and doe thee good; and feedest on that, which impaireth thy health and doth thee hurt. I therefore assure thee, and giue thee my honest word, that it will make much for thy saluation, acordarte de ti, y oluidarte de mi, to forget me, and to thinke on thy selfe.

Amongst those many Schooles for little children, and those many Schoole-Masters, Seuill, of all o­ther Cities, the richest for Con­sciences. which haue the keeping of Consciences, (howbeit, as I say, no City, Towne, nor Village escapes them in all the world) Seuill is the onely place for my money; and therein, those that imbarke themselues to passe the Seas. For, the most part of them, as if their Consciences, were of that great burthen and extraordinary weight, that they were able to sinke both the Ship and themselues, do [...]ither leaue their consciences at home in their own hou­ses, or with their Hosts, to keepe them for them till their returne. And if af­terwards they chance to recouer them againe, (which in my opinion is a hard matter, for that the Countrey is very spacious and large, where there is no such great reckoning made of these things) it is well and good; if not, they doe not greatly care; or if they take them with them, and leaue them there behinde them, as little, if not lesse. And for this reason, Conscience goes a beg­ging in that Citie, in regard of the great store and plenty of that commodity; because those that left them there behinde them, when they went away to the Indies, or some other farre place, did neuer returne backe againe to fetch them.

I will not offer to walke in the Exchange, nor the Burse, nor haue any thing to doe in the street of San Françisco, nor hazzard a drowning in the Sea. Let all trafficke (for my part) be laid aside; Let there be no trade driuen, no com­merce [Page 211] had, no buying nor selling, nor exchanging of commodities. For I feare me, if I should once begin to be a dealer therein, I should neuer be able to giue it ouer. But let me heare make a full point, taking this onely as but a note by the way, and not thinke so much on what I say, as what I would haue said, and shall perhaps say hereafter when I see my time. And so I will proceed to my promised Story.

There was a certaine man, that was borne neere vnto Genoa, a person of The Story of Pantalon, Ca­steleto, a Ge­nouese, and poore Begger in Florence. great account, for his rare inuention, and subtlenesse of wit. His name vvas Pantalon Casteleto, a poore Begger, who, for that he was married in Florence, and his Wife had borne him a sonne, after that the Mother was deliuered of this child, the Father went plotting and deuising, how hee might leaue him well to liue, without tying him to serue any man, or to binde him prentice to any trade or occupation.

It is commonly spoken there amongst them by way of Prouerbe: Dichoso el hijo, que tiene à su padre en el infierno. De malè quae. sitis, vix gau­det tertius haeres. Happy is that sonne, whose father goes to Hell. Howbeit, I count him vnhappy. For it is not possible, that should thriue with him, which he left him, nor that it should come to the inioying of a third Heire. This is my opinion. For, to leaue his child well prouided for, he prouides ill for himselfe; and to make him, marres himselfe. For he can not but runne his soules hazzard, who hunts after vngodly gaine.

And albeit he were married, and had the charge of a Wife, (but this is a par­ticular benefit, and a large Theame to treat of, that one Begger should marry with another, and be both of one profession) they had (God be thanked) rea­sonable well wherewithall to liue; they wanted nothing, that they had need of, and sufficient store of wealth they had besides, to leaue vnto their heire, in some competent measure, especially for one, that was of so meane a condi­tion as he was.

But this man would not put himselfe vpon Fortune. But had intertained The cruelty of a Father. in his imagination, one of the greatest and most vnnaturall cruelties, that the wit of man could deuise. He maimes me this his poore innocent Infant, (as many more of all Nations doe in those parts:) where, when they beyong and tender, they writhe their ioynts, and breake their bones, making them as plyable as Waxe; then taking them in hand anew, molding them after this, or that manner, as they haue most minde vnto, forming and fashioning of them (I know not) into how many monstrous shapes, and vgly postures, onely to moue the people to take the more pitie and compassion of them.

With these abused Babes, whilest they are little, they get where-withall to line in their old age; and afterwards, thus maymed and mangled as you see, they leaue them a good patrimonie. But this wicked Rogue, for his greater increase of gaine, would martyrize this poore tender Infant, with new kinde of torments; He did not put him to these cruell tortures all at once; but still as he grew in yeeres, so did he vary and change them, as men shift their Shirts, or change their Bathes, one dry, and the other wet; till he had left him thus carued and ingrauen, as I haue painted him forth vnto you.

Some naturall gifts hee had, that his father either did not, or could not touch. So that notwithstanding this his vnhappinesse, hee had a very happy wit, and was a good Speaker, and his words became him very well. But that which he had from his Father, which was his outward flesh, to begin first with his head, he had writh'd it in that sort, that it seemed to bee set quite backwards, his face falling on t'one side vpon his right shoulder. That both beneath, and aboue the lids of his eyes, was all one ouer-growne lumpe of flesh: the fore-head and the eye-browes scorch't and burned with a thousand wrinkles: He vvas crooke-back't, his whole body like a Bottom of Yarne, all one lumpe, vvithout any shape or fashion, of any one part, that might stile him man: His feet turned backwards, and perching vp ouer his shoulders, be­ing [Page 212] dis-ioynted, and vvithered. The onely sound parts that were about him, vvere his armes, and his tongue. The one left him to talke, the other to take. He went, as if he had beene clapt into a Cage, being thrust into a little kinde of woodden Chest, set and made fast to a little Asses backe, which he did rule and guide with his hands; saue that to get vp or downe, he vvas faine still to seeke for some helpe, which he did seldome or neuer misse of, hauing one or other euer at hand for that purpose.

He was, (as I told you before) a pleasant conceited fellow, had a good wit of his owne, and many good things should you heare to come from him. Besides, he went so totter'd, so torne, and in that ragged and wretched man­ner, that all Florence tooke pitie of him, and as well for his pouerties sake, as for those good parts that were in him, they gaue him much Almes, where­with he was well relieued.

After this manner, he liued some seuenty and two yeeres, or much there­abouts, at the end whereof he fell into a grieuous sicknesse, whereof hee cer­tainly knew, that he should dye.

Seeing himselfe at this point, and that he now stood vpon the iumpe of his Saluation, or Condemnation; being (as he was) very discreet, hee began to consider a little better of the matter, thinking with himselfe, that it vvas no time now to iest, but rather to confesse his sinnes, and to send for the Pa [...]son of the Parish and to make his Will. Which as it was to be the last that euer he vvas to make so was he carefull to make it as strong & as good as the strength of his wit could deuise. He desired, that a knowne Confessor of his might be sent for; one, that was a very learned man, & in very good esteeme, as well for the honesty of his life and conuersation, as for his learning and manners. With him he treated touching his sinnes, and fully imparted his minde vnto him. And when he had communicated what he thought fit vnto him, hee was very desirous to haue his Will made, but with the shortest, and most compendious words, that possibly could be imagined. And the beginning being drawne, (which belonged to the publike Notary to doe) what was fit on his part, he briefely thus sets it downe.

Inprimi [...], I recommend my Soule vnto God, vvho created it, and my body to the earth, to be buried in mine owne Parish. Pantalons last will and Testa­ment. The Duke made his sole heir [...] and Executor.

Item, My Will is, that my Asse be sold; which money shall bee bestowed vpon my buriall. But the Pack-Saddle I bequeath vnto the great Duke my Lord and Master, to whom it rightly appertaineth, and properly belongs, whom I nominate to be my sole Executor, and make my generall and vni­uersall Heire.

This done after that he had settled and sealed this his last Will and Testa­ment of that his indisposition anon after he dyed. And because euery man Pantalon dy [...]. held him to be a merry-conceited fellow, and one that was full of his witty iests, they did all verily thinke, that he would make his death equall with his life, and shut vp his last breath with some odde iest or other for a farewell, as it vsually befals such kinde of giddy-headed fooles, when they once take a toy in the head, and are wedded to their humour.

But when the great Duke vnderstood of this Will, (which was not long kept from his knowledge) hauing formerly heard of the Testator, and that he was held to be a wise and discreet man, he did from thence collect, that this The Duke sends for [...] Legacy. Clause was not without it's mysterie. Wherevpon hee gaue order that this Legacy he had left him, should forthwith be brought vnto the Palace, and when he had it before him he comman led it to be ript in sunder, piece after piece, and still as they went along, they tooke forth diuers different sorts of coyne; and when they had sorted out these seuerall kindes of moneys (which were all in good gold) they amounted in the whole to three thousand and sixe hundred Spanish Crownes, euery Crowne bearing the full value of foure [Page 213] hundred Marauedis. This poore man, whether he had consulted with his Confessor or no, I know not; or aduised with himselfe, which is not vnlikely; It seemed he thought with himselfe, that that was none of his, and that hee had no other meanes to make restitution, then to leaue it to the naturall Lord of that Signorie, who had the charge of all the poore committed to his care, and with this he conceiued he had discharged his Conscience. The great Duke being so powerfull and so noble a minded Prince as he was, gaue order to haue this Will entred, and to remaine vpon record to after-ages, and that the Legacie that he had giuen him, should be imployed for the good of his soules health; Wherein he shew'd himselfe a worthy Executor, but a farre more worthy Gentleman.

What say you now to the feeling of this poore Begger? What thinke you of his sense of Touching? Thine is farre short of it, nor halfe so good and delightfull as this, though thou shouldest inioy the imbracements of another Uenus. Of these two Priuiledges (before specified) we were the sole and on­ly Lords, for none besides vs, did inioy them so freely, as we did; together with many other liberties and immunities which (if I list) I were able to re­late vnto thee.

When I doe but thinke vpon those times, which I inioyed heretofore, and the merry life that I then led, which is all now past and gone with me, (not that i either long or looke for any more such happy dayes or that I would call them to minde, to make me forget my miseries,) or whether the recordation of them did make those sorrowes seeme either greater or lesse, which I suffred in the Gallies, I will not now dispute; but sure I am, that I take great delight in the remembrance of them: As that hauing of our Table still prouided for vs; our bed ready made to our hands; our Chamber without incombrance; our Scrip well furnish'd; our goods about vs; our stocks sure on foot, with­out feare of theeues, or any dread of raine, without Aprill's care, or May's fearfull iealousie, which two are the husband-mans moth: Not troubling our heads with new fashions, with the pompe of apparell, with ceremonious complements, and the like froth of fooleries, scum'd out of forraine Coun­tries: Liuing without the preuention of flatteries, without the composing of Lies, scorning to get either money, or to seeke to grow into credit by such base insinuations.

How would we suffer that men might the better esteeme of vs? How vi­sit Artifices to winne Opinion. them, that they might not forget vs? How attend them, for to binde them vnto vs? What occasions would we not seeke out, that we might come to speake with them, and be seene by them? How early would we be stir­ring, to the end they might thinke we were carefull and sollicitous how to liue? And euermore the more early vp, the colder and sharper the weather was. And euery one of these had it's pleasure and delight, for the ends for which they were done.

How often would my selfe fall a discoursing of other mens houses and their gentilitie, only of purpose to set my owne I edigree afoot, and to shew that I was a Gentleman well descended? How often would I discouer another mans defect, and finde fault with it, and only to this end, that by taxing such a vice in another, I might be thought to be free from the same my selfe? How often would I hold conuersation, only for ostentations sake, and no other end in the world? How would I wheele about, and fetch in things a farre off, only to vent my wit, and to make my words to take place? To what good meetings did not I goe? I was the only Cocke there that crow'd low dest; and when I went away from them, and left their companie, they would not cen­sure me, as I would them, but let me alone.

O these conuenticles of lewd Company, these meetings, where mens mouthes fall a murmuring and traducing of others! ô how large a Historie [Page 214] would it require? Who is able to expresse, how ill it beseemes a Gentleman, to be the Taylour that must cut out such ill worke? There is no Clergie man, whose The Spanish word is Loba: that i [...], Vesti­dura clerical, [...]alar, que llega al suelo, corta­da à todo rue­do con golpes para sacar los braços. Es ve­sti [...]ura hono­rifica. Este vso se conserua en la Capilla real. Han le dado varias [...]mo­logias, y [...]ntre las d [...]mas, v­na, que por comer tanta tela, la llama­ron, Loba. P [...]rò su [...]timo­logia trae Ori­gen del nom­bre Gri [...]go [...] genero de vestidura, quae hominem ambit, vt cor­tex, & tunica arbo [...]em. y puede ser Hebreo, del verbo labas, induere y as [...]i Valdra, indu­men [...]m. Couarruuias. Surplice they will not cut; Nor honest woman, whose The Span sh word is, Saya, which is that garment, which a wom [...]n weares from [...] downeward. The [...] ed condition of Pretenders. Guzman playes the [...] in Gaeta. [...]. Kirtle they will not make a hole in. They cloath the Saint and the sinner after a large kinde of fashion. But let it rest as it is; if we liue, we shall be seru'd with the like sawce. By how straight a Rule, by how euen a Line, and by how iust a Compasse, must that Pretender carry himselfe, who is to saile thorow the sea of this world, hoping for a fortune from another mans hand? If it be good, how slowly doth it come? if bad, how soone doth it light vpon vs? And the Scale can neuer be made so vpright and euen, but that there will be something wanting of it's true weight. And the better a man deserues, often-times hee fares the worse. If a man haue not a minde to do [...]-him good, euery Mole­hill is made a mountaine, and euery the least obliquitie, is obserued and noted in him. If he speake much, (though neuer so well,) he is too lauish of his words; If little, he is too short and obscure, and knowes not how to expresse himselfe. If of high and dainty things indeed, he is too rash, and too pre­sumptuous; and vndertak [...] to discusse those things, that are too deepe for his vnderstanding. If of things of lesser consequence, and of a lower straine, he is too shallow, and hath no stuffe in him. If he humble himselfe, he is base; if stand vpon his worth, he is proud: if he will fight and take no wrong, hee is ill gouern'd, and a Royster; if pocket a wrong, and hold his hands, he is a coward: if he haue a bold looke, he is impudent; if a modest countenance, he is an hypocrite; if he laugh, he is condemned of leuitie; if graue, hee is counted a Saturnist: if affable, slightly regarded; if austere, mightily abhor­red: If iust, cruell; if mercifull, a silly sheepe.

Now against all these and the like cauils (which are no small misfortunes) the poore haue a Passe-port, as being Lords of themselues, free from all taxes and tallage. They are out of the Gun-shot of their Competitors, they quiet­ly inioy their life, without being troubled with Promooting Knaues to in­forme against them; snipping Tailours to take them short; or snarling dogs to snap at their good name.

Such was my happy condition, if Time and Fortune (consumers of all things on earth, who suffer not things to continue in one and the selfe-same estate) had not tumbled me downe from this height of my happinesse; decla­ring by the colour of my countenance, and the Soundnesse of my limmes, that I was rich in health, and not so maymed, nor so poore, as I made my selfe to be, by my pitifull moanes and lam [...]ntations.

For, as I was sitting one day a b [...]gging of almes, in the Citie of Gaeta, hard by the Church porch, whither (out of curiositie) I would needs goe to see if their charitie and deuotion did equall that of Rome? There I sate bare, made shew of my head vnto them, (for I was but newly come thither, and had not as yet fitted my selfe with necessaries) so that I was forced on the sudden to [...]ake vse of a kinde of scur [...], that I had clapt thereon; in the counter feiting whereof, I was excellent cunning. The Gouernour of the Towne comming to Church, as he past along by me, casts his eye vpon me, & gaue me an almes. With this tricke, I past reasonable well for a while. But because, la Codiçia, [...] sa [...], too much couetousnesse makes the bag to breake; and I had not the wit to see when I was well; I thought fitt vpon a Festiuall day to ap­peare in publike with some new inuention. I had my preparatiues ready, my prouision at hand, I set them before me, and then drest me such a legge, that was very well worth more, then a very good Vine-yard. This was the farme that I meant then to liue vpon.

Well, away goe I to Church with it; there I began to stretch my throate, and to thunder out my voyce, euer and anon lifting vp the cloth with a ten­der finger, to shew vnto them, what a grieuous sore legge I had, wherein I [Page 215] was so ready and so perfect, that I had need of no body to teach me my lesson. But whether it were my ill lucke, or mine owne indiscretion, (for from igno­rance and foolishnesse, all your mischances for the most part proceed) I can­not tell which to impu [...]e it to: But certaine I am, I should not haue sought to haue eate better bread then is made of Wheat, nor haue gone a chopping of horses in so small a Village. I might haue kept me still to my scabbed head, and haue past well with it, (for it found me meat to put in my mouth) and not haue gone seeking after new tricks, and new inuentions.

The Gouernour came that day vnto the Church to heare Masse, and because he knew me, he will'd me to rise, saying vnto me: Come along with me, and The Gouernour of Gaeta cures Guzman of his sore legge, and how he did it. I will bestow a shirt on thee to put on thy backe. I did beleeue him, and went along with him to his Lodging. If I had but knowne before how he would haue vs'd me, he should not haue reach't me with the best Culuerine he had, nor haue made me to come within his clutches, with all his faire words, nor all the wit in his head. But when he had me there, and saw I was safe for get­ting from him, he lookt me steadily in the face, and said vnto me; Thy colour being so fresh, thy skinne so cleere, thy body so sound (for thou art fat plumpe, and faire, thy complexion good, thy limmes strong, and the rest of thy skinne smooth and sleeke) how comes it to passe that this thy legge is as it is? Me thinkes this doth not sute and hang well together with the rest.

I answered him, but with a troubled kinde of deliuery: Sir, I know not; it hath pleased God it should be so. Presently he knew thereupon vpon what legge I halted, he had found me out; whereupon I had an eye to the doore, to see if I could shew him my heeles, and get away from him. But I could not, for the doore was made fast. He wille [...] a Surgeon to be sent for, that hee should search my wound, and see what I ayled. He came and lookt, and lookt vpon it againe and againe, and at last very leisurely and tenderly went to worke with me, with a soft and gentle hand, as neuer a Lady in the land could more handsomely haue gone about it. At the first it did somewhat puzzle him, for he knew not what to make of it, but within a little while after he saw his error, & then he told the Gouernour; Sir, this Youth hath no more hurt in his legge, then I in mine eye; and that you may perceiue it is so, I will plainely demonstrate it vnto you. With that he began to vnswathe me, and taking off ragge after ragge, and such slibber-slabbers as I had bedawbed it withall, he made my legge to appeare as whole as any fish, as indeed it was.

The Gouernour blest himselfe, and stood amazed to see me in that maner, but that which did astonish him most, was how I should haue the aptitude and wit to doe such a thing as this. I was in a trance, and ready to swoune, not knowing what either to say or doe. And if my youth had not borne me out, none but God could haue freed me from exemplary punishment.

But this youth of mine did reserue me for greater chastisement. And in stead of the shirt which hee promised mee, he sent for the Beadle of beggers, and there (in his presence) willed him to giue me a strip't Doublet, which I was to weare vnder that torne one which I had to my backe. Commanding me, that I should presently packe out of the Citie, and come there no more. Which command, though he had not layd it vpon me, I should haue beene carefull to see it performed my selfe; for I would not haue stayd there, if he would haue made me Lord of Gaeta. I got me away full of feare, trembling and quaking, shrinking vp my shoulders, looking euer and anon behinde me, being iealous and suspicious, that if they should chance to bethinke them­selues, that they had not giuen me sufficient paiment, they would make after me, and bring me to a stricter account.

Herevpon I hastned away as fast as my legges would carry me, making no stay, till I came into the Popes Territories: Calling my Rome still to minde, Rome commen­ded by Guz­man. and throwing a thousand blessings vpon it; for there, they did not sticke vpon [Page 216] trifles, nor did not busie themselues to examine colours, but let euery man (without more adoe) make the best of his liuing. To conclude, Tierra larga: a large Country for my money. Let me liue (to choose) in a spacious Countrey, where a man may haue Sea-roome inough, and not be driuen to runne through narrow Streights and Creekes, sayling still in the Channell, where there is few fetching of boords, nor any danger of being cast away vpon the Coast: Wher­as, in your narrow Seas, euery little gust of winde, euery small flawe, or least tempest in the world, will cast you vpon Quick-sands, or throw you vpon the Rocks, till you be either swallowed vp, or dasht in pieces.

CHAP. VI.

IT is a knowne and naturall truth; That those that are yong, are very short-sighted in your choyser sort of things, which require grauity, and carry any weight with them: Not for any defect of vnderstanding, but for want of Wisedome, which requireth experience; and that experience, Time. As Wisedome, gotten by Time. your greene fruit, that is not come to it's ripenesse, hath not any perfect rellish, but is tart, and sowre; so a young man, before he come to his maturitie, lacks his true taste, and failes in the speculation of things, and comes short of the true knowledge of them. And therefore, it is no wonder if he erre; but 'twere rather a wonder, if he should not erre. Notwithstand­ing, A great wonder if youth should not [...]rre. he that hath good naturall parts, is commonly more capable of these con­siderations, and readier to receiue the impression of them.

This I know by my selfe; for many times, the greatnesse of my Spirit did transport me farre beyond that which sorted with my yeeres; setting (as the Eagle doth with her young ones) my eyes fully fixt against the Sun of Truth; considering with my selfe, that all my cunning tricks, and sundry manner of deceiuings, was but a kinde of coozening my selfe, by seeking to rob him, that was truely poore and in need, maymed, and not able to worke, to whom those Almes did of right belong. For the poore man indeed neuer deceiueth, nor can he so doe, though it be his end so to doe. For he that giueth, regardeth A poore man neither doth, nor can deceiue. not to whom he giueth; and he that beggeth, is that Quayle-pipe or whistle, that cals those Birds vnto him, whilest he sits securely on his perch. The Beg­ger, with the Call and cry of his lamentations, receiueth the Almes, which he conuerteth to his profit, taking God in his mouth, whereby he makes him the debtor, binding him to repay it. On the one side I was glad, when they gaue me any thing; On the other side, I did quake and tremble, when I tooke account of mine owne life. For I assuredly knowing, that that was the way to my condemnation, I was bound to make restitution, as did that Florentine. But What kinde of poore are bo [...]d to make [...]. when I did sometimes see and obserue, that some powerfull and rich men would curiously put themselues to search in euery corner of their purse, for to look out a poore Blanke, a single-sol'd piece of money (God he knowes) and had there beene a lesse coyne, I thinke they would haue beene well inough contented with it to giue vnto the poore, I could by no meanes indure it, my bloud would rise at it, and I was ready to lose all patience. And euen now (me thinkes) whilest I am now speaking of it, my buttons swell; the coales [Page 217] of my choller; reuiue and quicken afresh, and such a furie of rage assayleth me, and sets me on against them, that I cannot containe my selfe, but must needs say something, though I know what, nor where to begin.

Hear'st thou me (thou my rich friend) a [...]t thou not yet wearied out, or waxen deafe, with so often hearing what hath been said vnto thee, (it hauing beene An admoni [...]on to the rich to be liberall in their A [...]s. so often beaten in thine eares, and inculcated vnto thee) that whatsoeuer thou shalt doe for any poore body, that shall begge an Almes of thee for Gods sake, thou doest it for God himselfe, and he isty'de vnto thee for the same, and stands bound for the payment, by taking the debt vpon him, and making that his owne, which is another mans? Wee that are poore, are like a Cipher in Arithmeticke, vvhich of it selfe is nothing, but vvith the addition of a figure is something, and the number is still the more, the more Ciphers are set before those figures. If thou wilt stand for ten, set a poore man by thee, and see how many the more poore men thou shalt relieue, & how many the more Almes-deeds thou shalt doe, they are as so many figures, to make vp a greater reckoning for thee with God, when thou shalt be called before him to make thine account.

What shouldst thou sticke vpon the matter, and begin to debate and consi­der with thy selfe, whether I get or not get, vvhether men giue me, or giue me not? But doe thou giue me that which I aske thee, if thou hast where­withall and art able to doe it. And if not for Gods sake, which commands thee to doe it, yet out of that naturall affection, which thou owest vnto me. And doe not flatter thy selfe, or so much as offer to thinke, that the wealth vvhich thou inioyest, and the riches that God hath giuen thee, is; That thou art bet­ter Wooll then we; but that thou art better carded. And he that made thee thus fine, and me thus course; by giuing to thee, and taking from mee, may change hands, and may bestowe his blessings vpon vvhom he please, and on such as hee shall thinke worthy thereof, and shall doe more good vvith it; then thou doest. Be not a pryer into the poore, nor too strict an examinant: demurre not vvhat thou shalt doe for him, stand not a hinching and a crinch­ing with him; for if thou looke well into thy selfe, thou wilt finde Couetous­nesse to be the cause of all this, and that they are but meere excuses, because thou would'st not giue him any thing, and so shift him off from thee: I know it is so; and therefore let me perswade thee (for thine owne good) to inlarge thy minde, and that will make thee to inlarge thine Almes. And for this end, as also that thou maist see the good effect of Almes, heare that, which Sofroni­us rrecounteth, cited by Canisius, a very learned man.

A Widow-woman, hauing one onely Daughter, being a very faire and beautifull Damzell, Zenon the Emperour fell mightily in loue with her, and The Emperour Zenon, a great Almes-giuer. was exceedingly inamoured of her; and by force (quite against her will, and vtterly with her dislike) he deflowred her; and with a strong and tyrannous hand, kept her, and enioyed her.

The Mother of this Maiden, finding her selfe much afflicted for this her so much wronged and abused Daughter, bearing great deuotion to a particuler Image of our Lady, as often as she presented her selfe there before it, she would still recommend this her cause vnto her, saying; O blessed Mary, O sweet Virgin, I heere vpon my knees begge reuenge and punishment for this force and affront, which that Tyrant Zenon the Emperour hath, and doth still offer vs. It is said, that she heard a voice, which spake thus vnto her; Thou hadst The effect of Almes-deeds. beene long agoe e're this reuenged on him, if the Almes-deeds of the Empe­rour had not bound our hands.

Loose thou thy hands, that are too fast bound; stretch them out to t [...] poore, and helpe them therewith (as well as thou canst) out of the misery, vvherein they lye. For it is thy duty so to doe, it is required at thy hands; and it much more concerneth thee to giue an Almes, then the other to receiue it. God did [Page 218] not so much make the rich man for the poore, as the poore man for the rich. Not so much for his, as for thy good. And therefore doe not thou stand off, and intertaine thy selfe with saying, One man merits more then another; This deserues some-what, and this not. There is but one God, and they aske of thee in his name; to him thou doest giue it. All is one, thou art to make no The necessities of the poore cannot be truely knowne by vs difference. Thou canst not vnderstand, how much another mans necessitie doth wring him, nor is it possible that thou shouldst come to knowe it. It is the outward man onely, that thou canst iudge of. And thou thinking, that such a man is sound and in health, it is not fit (as thou supposest) that thou shouldest giue him an Almes.

Doe not seeke starting holes, to hide away thy Deuotion; seeke not excu­ses, to put away the poore from thee; leaue that to their Lord and Master, thou hast no Commission to examine them; it is not giuen thee in charge. There are other Iudges, to whom this scrutinie belongeth. And if, looking vpon me, thou wilt let thy iudgement slip, and say, that God hath been too slacke and negligent in punishing of me; Consider, that the selfe-same God hath done the like by others.

Do not (O thou man of euill bowels, thou vnmercifull-minded man) doe not thou, I say, lye in waite to doe mischiefe. The Ambush is discouered, and I see thy meaning. I say then, that Charity, and distribution of Almes, hath it's method and order, as in other things. Nor doe I say, that thou shoul­dest not order thy Charitie; but I say, that thou shouldest exercise thy Chari­tie; That thou shouldst giue freely, and not pinchingly; That thou shouldst not make such a deale of scrupulositie with thy selfe; whether he should haue an Almes or not haue an Almes? whether hee haue need, or not need? Trou­bling thy selfe with this, and with that, and I know not what. If thou wilt giue it him, giue it him quickly; if thou canst not, say thou canst not, and ther's an end. Yet let me tell thee by the way; if a poore man begge of thee, then, euen then, dost thou owe him an Almes, and it costs him deare too, as I told thee before.

And let me farther tell thee, That thy Office is onely to giue. Let the Ru­lers and Magistrates, the Bishops and their Vicars, open that doore to who are to iudge of the poore. looke into, it is their eyes that must see who is poore, and who not, and ac­cordingly appoint the punishment.

This is for men of Office; this, for men of authority; yet it is a crosse vn­to them; yet is it a trouble vnto them. Nor were they made Gouernours, or Heads ouer others, for to eate the best morsels, or to feede on the daintiest What manner of man be ought to be, that is in authoritty. dishes, but to take more paines and cares then other men. Not to laugh and make themselues merry with their Fooles and Iesters, but to lament and be­wayle the wretched estate of the poore: Not for to sleepe and snort, but to watch and sigh, hauing continually (like vnto the Dragon) the eye-sight of the Spirit cleere. So that, it onely appertaines vnto thee to giue an Almes: And doe not thinke, that thou doest then performe that dutey, when thou giuest that thou canst not vvell tell what to doe withall, and hast kept it so long in some corner a moulding, that it is fitter to be throwne out vpon the dunghill, then any thing else. And as if the poore were that dunghill, thou giu'st him thy mouldy and thy stinking meate; not so much out of Charitie, or any deuo­tion thou hast to giue it to the poore, as because thou canst not eate it thy selfe, and wouldst haue thy house faine rid of it. But this, I tell thee, is the sacrifice of Cain. That which thou wilt offer, must be of the best things that thou hast, as did that good and iust man Abel, with a desire and will that it were much better, wishing it may doe him much good. Not, as though thou didst giue by constraint and compulsion, nor yet for ostentation, hauing (like the Pha­risee) the trumpet to go before thee, to sound foorth thy praise; but only out of meere charitie, that thou maist reape thereby that fruit that is promised thee, God accepting of thy sacrifice.

[Page 219] I was now a pretie waies off from Rome, whither I was bending my steps. Guzman with much [...]oy arriues at Rome. But I no sooner came thither, but my teares trickled downe my cheekes for ioy. I did wish in my heart, that mine armes had beene so large, as that they might haue beene able to haue imbraced those sacred Walls. The first step that I set within those holy gates, I fell downe on my face, and kist that hal­lowed ground. And because that Country, which a man knowes, and where he hath his meanes, the same is to be accounted his Mother, I did much ioy to see it. I knew the Citie well, and was as well knowne in it. I began (as I had done before) to seeke some course to liue, and to maintaine this life of mine: I falsely call it life, being it was my death, though it seemed vnto me, to be my proper Center.

O alas, how strangely are we wedded to our passions, and how strange doth that seeme vnto vs, which doth not answer thereunto, be it neuer so true, neuer so certaine! This seemed to me, to be my only happinesse; holding (in comparison thereof) euery other thing as a misfortune. And though I did see all, yet I inclined still to the worst, thinking still, that that was the best. Video melio­ra, &c.

I was stirring one morning betimes, according as I had formerly beene ac­customed, and trugg'd along with my sore legge, with which I sate me downe to begge at one of the Cardinals gates. And he comming forth for to goe to Guzman falls a b [...]gging a [...]w with his counter­feit sore legge. the Palace, stay'd to heare me, in how loud a voice and extrauagant a tune, I besought his pitie: not vsing those plainer notes of eight, but saying; Giue mee somewhat (noble Christian; friend of Iesus Christ) take pit [...]e of this sore afflicted sinner, maimed and pained in his members; Looke vpon these wretched limmes: consider my vnfortunate yeeres, and take some compassion of this mise­rable creature! O my most reuerend Father, my most noble Lord, shew some A forme of beg­ging vsed by some beggers. sense of sorrow, haue some little feeling, I beseech your most illustrous Lord­ship, of this poooe young wretched Youth, and powre forth your fatherly com­passion vpon such a pittifull piece of miserie and wretchednesse, as you see here before you. I begge it at your noble and charitable hands, in that glorious name of the blessed (though most painefull) passion of our deare Master and Redee­mer Iesus Christ.

My Lord Cardinal (after that he had heard me with a great deale of at­tention) was extremely moued therewith, and conceiued an extraordinary pitie towards me, insomuch that I did not seeme vnto him to be a man, but The Cardinall takes pitie of Guzman. What effect his pitie brings sorth. that I represented vnto him euen God himselfe. Thereupon hee forthwith gaue order to his seruants, that they should take me vp in their armes, and carry me into the house, and that stripping me of those old and rotten ragges, they should lay me in his owne bed, and in another chamber adioyning there­vnto, they should make his. All which was done in a moment.

O the great goodnesse of God! ô the largenesse of his noble condition! Gods goodnesse. They stript me naked, for to cloath mee; they would not let me begge, but were ready to giue me; and to make me likewise able to giue vnto others. God neuer takes any thing away from vs, but when hee meanes to bestow greater blessings vpon vs. When God will giue thee any thing, he will first His readinesse to requite vs. aske something of thee. He comes weary about noone to the Fountaine, sits him downe, askes thee a little water whereof the beasts of the field doe drinke. Thou giu'st it him: In exchange whereof, he giues thee the water of the Well of Life, the drinke of Angels, whereof he that drinketh, shall neuer thirst any more. This holy man made him his patterne, who sending present­ly for two skilfull Surgeons, and promising to see them well rewarded, com­mitted my cure to their charge, and that they should doe their best to make me a sound man. This care being taken, leauing me in the hands of these two Physicians, and Surgeons, no [...]ends to beg­gers. hangmen, and in the power of my enemies, hee gets him away to the Palace.

Although we vs'd many, and sundrie counterfeitings of sores, yet that [Page 220] which I had then made me, was rubb'd ouer with a certaine Herbe, which caus'd it to looke so ill and so vile, that whosoeuer had seene it, would haue thought the sore incurable, and that great remedies must bee vsed, as to a thing that was shrewdly festred, and growne to a Canker; yet if the vse of this roguish Herbe be but left off for three whole daies, nature it selfe, with­out any other helpe, will reduce the flesh to that perfection and soundnesse, that it was in before. To these two Surgeons, it seemed at the first sight a thing of much moment. They threw off their Cloakes, they call'd for a Panne of coales, fresh butter and other things; and when they had all that they would in a readinesse, they vnswathed me, and vnbound the clouts that were about my legge, which they performed very neatly and handsomely. That done, they askt me how long I had had this sore, if I could ghesse whence it should come; if I did vse to drinke Wine, what meates I did most vsually feed on, and such other questions as these. Which those that are skilfull in that art, are wont to doe on the like occasions.

All these I answered with silence, lying all along as if I had beene dead, for I was not almost my selfe, nor was I indeed for a pretie while, seeing such a Guzman would not answer to the questions that the Surge­ons [...]skt [...]im. deale of preparation to cut, to cauterize and the like; and in case I should escape all this, I was at my wits end, to thinke that my maladie would bee found out, and so my roguerie be discouered. That which I suffered in Gaeta, seemed but a flea biting vnto me. But now I liued in feare, that the Cardi­nall would inflict some notable punishment vpon me, for this cheating tricke that I had put vpon him. I knew not how to helpe my selfe, nor what to doe, nor whom to make vse of in this my extremitie. For, neither in all the Le­tanie, nor in Flos Sanctorum, could I finde any Saint, that was a Defender and Protector of Villanes, or that would seeke to excuse me.

By this time they had viewd me againe and againe, a hundred and a hun­dred times, and turnd me to and fro, this way and that way, that I thought they would neuer haue made an end; when at last I brake forth and said; I am vndone, I am vndone; yet there is some life left in me: I die if you aske me any more questions, or if you med [...]le with me any more. Two houres of trouble haue I alreadie indured vnder their hands, if they doe not burie me now in [...], (thought I) I will passe ouer the rest as well as I can. And say they should agree to cut off my legge, the condition were better, and the gaine more certaine▪ so as I did not die in the doing of it. But suppose also that this should befall me, I should then be before handwith Death, and I shall not be put to indure that brunt another time. What can I doe more? (vnfortunate man as I am) I was borne into the world, here I must suffer, pa­tience must be my best comfort, shuffle the Cardes therefore anew, and see whether we shall haue any better lucke. For my rest is vp, and the care is al­ready taken.

While I was thus doubtfull what would become of me, the couetousnesse S [...]ons of [...] euill [...], what kinde of men they be. of these Surgeons, and their greedinesse of gaine, opened the doore to my re­medie. The one of them▪ (who was better experienced then the other) came to know at last, that this sore was a counterfeit sore, and that by the signes and Symptomes of it, it proceeded from the effects of that very selfe-same Herbe which I had vsed. But this he kept close to himselfe, telling his fellow, This flesh is canker'd all ouer, and therefore it is necessarie, that to hinder it from spreading any farther, and that other new flesh may come vp in its place, to cut it all away to the quicke, and then there was no doubt of the well curing of it.

The other said vnto him; This cure will aske a great deale of time; all this filthy matter must be taken away, till we come to the very belly, as it were, wherein the very pith and Core of it lies, before we can well tell what to say to it. Howsoeuer, we haue here a faire occasion offred to shew our skill, and to [Page 221] picke out something of it, for the better passing ouer of this hard yeere. He that was the more expert man of the two, tooke the other by the hand, and led him forth aside into a withdrawing roome, that ioyned close to the cham­ber. I, when I saw them thus goe forth together (suspecting some secret con­sultation) I stole me out of my bed after them, that I might listen to their talke, and it was my hap at last to heare the one of them say to the other; Master Doctor, I doe thinke (be it spoken vnder correction) that your Wor­ship doth not rightly and truly vnderstand this young mans maladie; for you shall seldome meet with the like kinde of cures, and there is scarce one of a hundred, when they doe meet with them, that doth know them, o [...] can tell what to make of them, yet shall I acquaint you with what I know: we are Partners in this businesse, and therefore I will hide nothing from you; but it is a great secret, that I haue to communicate vnto you. What (for Gods sake) said the other? I shall tell you, sir: and with that he said; This beg­ger The wicked co [...]l of two Surgeons, about Guzmans, [...]e legge. is a notable dissembling Rogue, a subtill Villaine; these sores that you see, are feigned ware, counterfeit stuffe. What shall we doe in this case? Let me be aduised by you. If we leaue him off thus▪ the bird will escape our hands, and so we shall lose both the credit and profit of this Cure. If take vpon vs to cure him, we haue no cure to worke vpon, and then this Rascall will be­foole vs, and laugh at our ignorance: and if we cannot one way or other come off fairely to our best aduantage, the be [...] course will be (in my opinion) to acquaint the Cardinall how the case standeth, and what a count [...]feit Knaue we haue vnder our hands.

No sir (said the other) I hold not that so fit. Let vs hold the Bird fast, while we haue him: it is a lesse euill, that vpon this young fellow (that is no better then a Picaro, and an errant Rogue) we should gaine vs a [...]ittle repu­tation, and come off with some good opinion, then to let slip so fine and so faire an occasion. Let vs therefore take no notice of these his counterfeit sores, but rather lay some Playsters thereunto, that may entertaine and delay the time: And if need be, we shall afterwards apply some Corrosiues, that shall eate into the sound flesh, in the cure whereof, we will spend some few daies. Nay then (quoth the other) the best way will be, Sir, (as I take it) to begin first with fire, cauterizing that part which appeares thus infected.

Now, which of these two remedies they should first begin withall, as also, how they were to share the gaines betweene them, a great quarrell there was, they could not agree vpon the point; for he that first found out the nature of my sore, would haue the greater share, or else he would acquaint the Cardi­nall with the whole businesse.

When I saw vpon what they stucke, and that it was a matter of little or no moment, and that vpon their difference, which was occasioned by my mise­rable pouertie, I might runne the hazzard of my vtter ruine, I rusht in be­tweene them, and throwing my selfe downe at their feet, I said thus vnto them, Gentlemen; on your hands, and tongues, depends my life, or death: my remedy, or my ruine. From my hurt no good can come to you; but from Guzman speaks to the Surgeons. They a [...]e toge­ther to abuse the charitie of this good P [...]clate. my good, you may reape assured both profit, and credit.

I know you are not ignorant of the necessitie and want which the poore suffer, and of the hardnesse of rich mens hearts, insomuch, that to mooue them to the more compassion and the easilier to get an Almes from them, we are inforced to wound our flesh, with these kinde of sores and martyrdomes, induring much trouble, and suffering much paine, yet neither these, nor grea­ter miseries that we abide, are of power to preuaile with them. It were a great mis-fortune in others to indure that out of necessitie which wee wil­lingly suffer, for that poore and miserable maintenance, which we draw from thence. I beseech you (for Gods sake) to take pitie on me, seeing that you are men that runne through the troublesome street of this world, and are made [Page 222] of flesh and blood, as well as my selfe; and that, which hath driuen me to this hard exigent, may likewise light vpon your selues.

Doe not (I beseech you) bewray me, worke your will vpon me, and where­in I may serue and helpe you, I will not be wanting to do as you will haue me, and in all things to be so ruled by you, that you may gaine much by this your cure. You may be confident of me, and trust me as you would your owne liues; for if there were no other meanes to make me sure vnto you, the feare of mine owne punishment is sufficient of it selfe, to binde me to be secret. Nor let not the respect of gaine restraine your kindnesse; for it is better to get, then to lose. We are three of vs, let vs all play booty, and ioyne together to coozen the Cardinall; for he is rich, and something is better then nothing.

These intreaties, seasoned with a few teares, and vttered with that ear­nestnesse as I deliuered them vnto them, were sufficient to make them ap­proue of my counsell; and so much the rather, for that they saw that I had hit the nayle right on the head. Wherewith they were so well pleased, that they were ready for ioy to take me vp vpon their shoulders, to carry mee to my bed. And so they and my selfe grew fully agreed to play euery man his part as well as we could.

Whilest this businesse was in debating, they were so long before they could agree vpon the matter, that I vvas scarce put into my bed, and the cloathes cast vpon me; but that my Lord Cardinall was come to the Chamber doore; who when he was entred, one of the Surgeons said vnto him: The Surgeons dissemble th [...]s counterset [...]ore with the Car­dinall.

This yong mans malady (may it please your Lordship) is a very grieuous one, and we must necessarily apply, great remedies therevnto. For the flesh is festred and canker'd in many places, and it hath taken such deepe roote, that it is impossible for the plaisters that we are to apply to worke any good effect, without some long tract of time; but I am very confident, and dare be bold to assure your Lordship, that (by the helpe of God) we shall make him as sound a man, as euer he was in his life.

Then said the other, If this Youth had not thus luckily falne into your Lordships pittifull and charitable hands, within a few dayes, these his sores would haue been so putrified, and haue so corrupted the wholebody, that all the world could not haue sau'd his life, but he must haue perished, and dy'de. But we shall so stop this Canker, from spreading it selfe any farther, and vse such good meanes for his recouerie, that I make no question but within sixe moneths; if not sooner, his flesh shall come to bee as whole and as faire as mine.

The good Cardinall (whom Charitie had onely mooued herevnto) told them; Be it in sixe, or in ten, let me haue it throughly healed and cured as it ought to be cured, and I shall take order that you be prouided of all things ne­cessary for it, you shall want nothing. With this, he left them, and with-drew himselfe into another roome. This did put new life into me; and as if they had drawne my heart out of the one side, and had thrust it in on the other in­to my body againe, so did I then feele my selfe. For euen till that very instant, I did not rest assured of these two traiterous Surgeons. I stil feared, they would haue wheeled about another way, and haue beene the cause of my vndoing. But by that which I had heard them treat in my presence, I was some-what cheered, and began to be of good comfort.

But the custome ofSwearing, Gaming, and Begging, are things that are Swearing, Ga­ming, and Beg­ging, three things hard to be left. hard to be left off. It could not choose but grieue me very much, that I was hindred in my course, mew'd vp, debarr'd my liberty, and made vnable to inioy those good and plentifull Almes, which I gain'd by begging. Which losse notwithstanding did seeme the lesse, in regard of that curious intertain­ment, choyse dyet, and good lodging that I had, that mans desire could not haue wisht it to haue bin better. For I was waited on, like a Prince, and cured [Page 223] with that care, as if I had beene the Cardinall himselfe. And so had he giuen commandement to the seruants of his house; besides his dayly comming in his owne proper person to visit me. And sometimes he would sit downe and make some stay with me, talking of such things, wherein he tooke pleasure to heare me.

At length, being healed of this infirmitie, (when the Surgeons saw their Guzman is fully cured. He is made one of the Cardinals Pages. time,) they were dismissed, receiuing a great deale of pay, for a little paines. And I was commanded to be new cloath'd, and to be listed in the Roll of the Pages; that as one of them, from that time forward, I might attend, and wait vpon his Lordship.

CHAPTER VII.

OF all things created, none can complaine to haue past with­out Al things created haue had their time of sway. it's Empire. They haue all of them had their day, and haue taken their turne. But because Time changeth al things; these are past and gone; and those haue finished their course.

And first to begin with Poetry, it is apparent to all the Poetry. world, how much that in it's time was celebrated.

Let ancient Rome report, in what reuerence were your Orators held, that were skill'd in the Art of Rhetorick, and had the gift of Oratory. speaking well and eloquently.

And let our Spaine speake, what honour is now at this day giuen to those Diuinitie. sacred letters of holy Writ, so many yeeres since, so well receiued by her; And in what esteeme stand both the Lawes, Ciuill, and Canon. Law.

The fashion of Apparell, and wearing of cloathes in Spaine, cannot escape amongst the rest; wherein we dayly finde new changes, and new alterations, Apparell. after which strange fashions all runne as fast, as scatteringly, and as much out of order as Goates doe one after another; and as one Sheepe leapes after an­other; so doe men and women leape into fashions. Hee is no body that is not in the new fashion. And nothing now seemeth well, but what is in vse; not­withstanding that it hath been already vsed, and that lately, and approued for good: And that sottish ignorance of the common rout, and baser sort of peo­ple, is come now to that passe, that they will all forsooth be alike; the tall man as the short; the Quack-belly, as the Scranio; the fat, as the leane; the sicke, as the sound; the deformed, as the well-proportioned man, will haue (if not one & the selfe-same measure) at least one and the selfe-same fashion; putting themselues into vgly and monstrous shapes, and into an indecent and ill-be­comming weare of cloathes, and onely because they will follow the fashion, and be in the same cut as others be, as if one kinde of Syrrop, or Purge, were fit for all diseases.

The words likewise and phrases of our speech, haue been corrupted by vse, Words & sp [...] and those which once were fyled phrases, and pure language, are now accoun­ted rude and barbarous.

Meates also haue their season, and their time; For that doth not please vs Mea [...]s. in the Winter, which we haue a great desire vnto in the Spring; nor that like vs in the Autumne, which we haue a minde vnto in the Summer.

Your buildings, and your Engines of Warre are dayly renued. Your Ma­nuall Buildings. Warlike Engines. [Page 224] workes, and those that are wrought with the hand, haue their tur­nings too; as your Seates, your Chaires, your Benches, your Cupboords, Manuall Arts. your Cabinets, your Tables, your low Stooles for women, your Lamps, your Candle-sticks, and the like: Your sports, your games and your Dances, Musicke. Dancing. haue also their changes. And euen in Musicke, and in Songs, wee finde the like.

For some are much taken with the Zarauanda: a knowne Dance in Spaine, very wanton and lasciuious. The women of Cadizmuen­ted the Dance, and brought it to Rome, whereof Martial ma [...]es ment [...]on in some places. Es [...]lly lib. 5. Epig. 79. Nec de Gadi­bus improbis puellae Vibrabunt sine sine pru­rientes Lasciu [...]s do­cili tremore lumbos. Truth banished. Zarauanda; and others may come hereafter, that will vtterly mislike it, and make it grow out of date. Who haue seene your Mules in former times, how much Veluet they haue drawne along with them in their Foot [...] Asses. Foot-cloathes, may now in these behold how in­capable they are of any such courtesie, being not suffered to haue any orna­ments of Silke or Gold.

We are all witnesses, when the time was, that my little pretty Sardinian Asse, was your womens onely Regalo and delightfull companion, when they performed their Stations, or went vpon their Visits. But they are now all for their Pack-Sadelles. D [...]gs. Monkies. Pa [...]ats. The D [...] and Spindle. Truth, how w [...]ch r [...]cted in [...]. Sillas, and easie Chaires carried with hands, which heretofore were well contented with good honest Pack-Saddles.

Let your Ladies now tell me, how [...]ntiall a thing it is, and how much it importeth them, to haue little foysting Hounds, Monkies, and Parrakitos, for to intertaine the time; who in times past did spend those idler houres at the Reele and Spin [...]le, and exercising their Needle in some curious, yet necessarie workes: But these are falne into disgrace, they are growne out of fashion, their time is past and gone, they haue their course, and are vanished with the rest.

The like hath hapned vnto Truth, that also hath had its time: Insomuch that it was anciently much more vsed then now: And so much, that it was a generall saying in those dayes, that it was resp [...]cted aboue all other Vertues; and he that told any Lye, were it of more or lesse importance, receiued pu­nishment accordingly, euen to the l [...]sse of life, by being publikely stoned to death.

But because we are quickly weary of well-doing, and what is ill, will ne­uer be tyred out; men growing worse and worse, so holy a Law could not keepe it selfe afoot amongst so many wicked persons. Wherevpon, it came to passe, that a great Plague and Pestilence comming amongst them, all those that were touched with it (if they escaped with their life) remained with some offensiue marke or other on their persons: And as it befalleth, that one generation pass [...]th, and another comes in the place, one succeeding an­other; they that were borne sound and whole, reproched those other with their faults and defects, wherewith they were notably grieued to see them­selues thus disgraced and tooke it very offensiuely at their hands.

Whence it came to passe by little and little, that Truth began to be heard with an vnwilling eare. And because men were thus vnwilling to heare it, A short Story of Truth. they grew at last to be vnwilling to tell it. For by the first round, we come vnto the second, and by the second, by degrees to the top of all. And a little sparke sometimes s [...]ts a whole Citie on fire.

At last they grew so bold as to breake this Statute, and not contented there­with they banished Truth at last into perpetuall Exile; and in her stead Ly­ing was entertained and seated in her throne.

Truth being thus condemned, she went from among them to performe the tenor of her Sentence. She went all alone, Poore, and naked; as it vsually hapneth vnto those that are sunke, and falne from their fortunes; (for euery man is valued according to that that he hath, or as his abilitie is; and those which formerly haue beene our friends, in time of aduersitie turne tayle, and become our enemies.) And hauing gone some few daies iourneyes from thence, standing on a high Mountaine, she might perceiue, passing ouer the [Page 225] edge of a little Hill, a great companie comming along, and the neerer still they drew, the greater did their number appeare. In the midst of a Squadron, compassed about with an Armie, came Kings, Princes, Gouernours, Priests Lyes Triumph. of that profession, Men of command, and Rulers of those Prouinces, euery one according to his qualitie, either more or lesse, neere to this triumphant Chariot, which they had placed in the midst, with a great deale of Maiestie, which was wrought with admirable Arte, and extreme curiositie.

In this Chariot, was there a high Throne erected, whose seate was of Iuo­ry, Ebonie, and Gold; wherein were inchased many precious Stones, and a woman sitting thereupon, with a Crowne vpon her head, like a Queene; her face most beautifull; but as you drew neerer and neerer vnto it, it did lose much of it's fairenesse, and at last appeared most foule and vgly. Her body, when she sate still, and did not stirre, seemed lustie, neate, and hand­some; but when she rose vp, and stood vpon her feet, or walked vp and downe, she discouered many defects. Her Robes were of changeable Taffa­ties, exceeding rich and glorious to the eye, and full of varietie of colours, strangely diuersified, and cunningly intermingled one with another, but the threds so slender, so subtill, and of that little or no substance, that the very ayre would puffe it in pieces, and euery the least thing, either make bracks in it, or breake and teare it to fitters.

Truth, she stood still (poore soule) till this Squadron was past, admiring to see so much greatnesse and State; but when the Charriot came right ouer a­gainst her, the Lady Lye tooke notice of this poore honest Dame Truth, and commanded those about her to stay. And causing her to come neerer vnto Lye meetes with Truth. her, she began to aske her whence she came, whither she would, and what she went about? And Truth plainly told her all.

The Lady Lye thought it fitting out of state and greatnes, and for a farther addition of honour, to lead her along with her: For euery one is so much the more powerfull, by how much the greater are the enemies, whom he o­uercommeth: and is by so much the more esteemed and reputed of in the world, by how much the mightier the forces are, against which he makes re­sistance.

Hereupon she commands Truth to wait vpon her. There was no remedy, she could not auoyd it, she must along with her, whether she would or no; but in the tayle of all the troope, being commanded to come last, for that Truth, where she takes her place. was her knowne place, and at that time did (as it should seeme) properly be­long vnto her.

He that will seeke for Truth, shal not finde her with this great Lady Lye, nor with any of her Ministers, for she comes in the Rere last of all, and there she manifests her selfe to those, that make inquirie after her.

The first daies iourney that she march't, she came to a goodly faire Citie, where Fauour went forth to receiue her, a very potent and powerfull Prince, Fauour goes forth to meet the Lady Lye. who inuites both her and all her Traine to his house.

The Lady Lye accepted of this his kindenesse, giuing him many thankes for this his courteous offer, but would needs goe to lodge at the rich and sumptuous Palace of Wit, where a great feast, and a curious banquet was prouided for her. Wit emertaines the Lady Lye.

Afterwards, when she was to goe from thence, and to passe on forward with her Troopes, my Lady Lyes Steward, which was Ostentation, tall of Ostentation the Lady Lyes Steward. person, with a long beard, a graue countenance, a settled gate, and words well plaste, came to mine Host, that had giuen them this good entertainment, & ask't him, what was to pay? The reckoning was summ'd vp; and the Ste­ward, without contradiction, or abatement of any thing, told him it was wel. The coyne, wher­in the Lady Lye makes her pay­ments.

Then the Lady Lye called Ostentation her Steward vnto her, saying; See you pay this man well, out of that money which you gaue him to keepe, [Page 226] when you came in hither. Mine Host seemed to be amazed thereat, and be­gan to wonder with himselfe, what money this should be, that they talked of; and thought at first, that they had but spoke in iest. But when he saw that they stood so stiffely in it, and that the same was affirmed by so many of good (as they seemed to be) condition and qualitie, he did very much com­plaine, saying; That till now, he had neuer beene so ill vs'd before in all his life. Vpon that my Lady Lye, for the iustifying thereof, presents these for Witnes­ses; Idlenesse, her Treasurer; Flattery, her principall follower, and chiefe At­tendant Lyes Witnesses, who they be. on her Person; Uice her Chamberlaine; And Wily-beguile-you, one of her maides of Honour, together with diuers other of her seruants. And that she might conuince him the better, she commanded Interest, mine Hosts Sonne, and Couetousnesse, his Wife, to be brought forth before him: All which auouched to his face, that it was so.

Wit seeing himselfe in this streight, did rend the ayre with his Exclamati­ons, Wit complaines of his wrong. calling vpon the heauens, that they would make the Truth knowne; for they had not only deny'd him that which they ow'd him; but they demaun­ded that of him, which he ow'd them not.

Truth, seeing him thus afflicted, as being one that euer wish't him well, came to him, and told him; My friend Wit, you haue reason on your side, Truth speakes in fauour of Wit. but I know not how to helpe thee; for she that denies this debt, is the Lady Lye, and here is no body on your part but my selfe, and all the seruice that I am able to doe you, is; to declare my selfe for you, as I doe.

The Lady Lye was so startled, and so abasht at this her boldnesse, that she commanded her Ministers, that Wit should be pay'd, but with Truths wealth; The Lady Lye giues sentence on Wits side, but condemnes Truth in the charges. which was accordingly done. And so they set forward, taking vp, as they went along, Innes and other lodgings, as such kinde of people vse to doe, letting no place scape, where they did not purloine and steale. For one wic­ked Villaine is commonly the hangman to another. And euermore, (take it for a generall rule) one thiefe, one blasphemer, one ruffian, and one damn'd fel­low, ends his life by the hands of one that is as bad as himselfe: And these are a kinde of great Fishes, which feed vpon the lesser Frie.

They arriued afterwards at a place, whereof Murmuration was Mistresse, a great friend to the Lady Lye, who came forth to meet her, causing all the Murmuration. great Persons of her Kingdome, and her owne priuate seruants, to lead on the way afore. Amongst the which went Pride, Trecherie, Deceit, Gluttony, In­gratitude, Malice, Hatred, Negligence, Sloth, Obstinacie, Reuenge, Enuie, Murmurati­ons followers, who they be. Iniurie, Folly, Uain-glory, Madnesse, Selfe-will, besides other her familiar friends and acquaintance. She inuited her to be her Guest, and that she would be pleased to make her Palace her Inne, and with that freenesse, as if it were her owne. The Lady Lye accepted of her kindenesse, but with this conditi­on, that she might only haue the vse of her lodgings, and in all the rest, to be The Lady Lye dines a [...] her house, and vpon what condition. at her owne charge. Murmuration was very willing to haue showne her greatnesse, and withall to haue giuen her the best entertainment she could; but because it was Lyes pleasure to haue it otherwise, she rested contented, and thanked her that she would be pleased to doe her house that grace, which she esteemed as a great fauour; and so without any farther reply on either part, they went hand in hand together to the Palace. Solicitude, who was Steward; and Inconstancie the Caterer, made prouision of victuals; the fame Solicitude, Steward of the house: Incon­stancie, the Caterer. whereof was so great, that many came from all the bordering places there­abouts, with a world of all sorts of dainties, and whatsoeuer else was neces­sarie for the setting forth of so great a Feast; all which was taken vp, with­out any hucking or sticking vpon the price; Looke what they askt, that they were agreed withall to haue. But after dinner, when they were to depart, and goe their wayes, the Owners of these things demanded money for what they had sold. The Treasurer said, that hee ow'd them nothing; and the [Page 227] Caterer, that hee had payd them all. Whereupon there was great stirre, and much adoe; insomuch that the Lady Lye way faine to come foorth her selfe a­mongst Lyes sh [...], that she may [...] pay what she owes. them, and said vnto them; My friends, what is it you vvould haue? Are you mad? or what's the matter with you? Sure you are either out of your wits, or I doe not well vnderstand my selfe. You are all of you payd al­readie for whatsoeuer you brought hither; and I my selfe saw with mine own eyes, when your moneys were payd you before Truths face, and in her pre­sence. Let her speake, if she may be taken for a witnesse, whether it be so or no: I will be content to be tryde by her. They going then to seeke out Truth, to decide this difference, and to award what was to be done in this businesse; she feigned herselfe to bee asleepe. They call'd aloud vnto her. But shee be­thinking her selfe, how ill she had been dealt withall before, was in a doubt what shee should doe: at last she resolued with her selfe to feigne her selfe dumbe, and had lost her speech, that she might not pay for that, which others Truth becomes dumbe, and the cause why. had bought, and were her professed enemies: Whereupon she hath continued that custome euer since; And now truth is growne dumbe, for that she had pay'd so soundly for not being mute before. And therefore hee that speakes the Truth, let him pay for't by my consent. For as the world now goes, hee is worthy so to doe.

But it seemeth vnto me (as I haue painted it in mine Imagination) that Truth and Ly­ing how com­pared. Truth and Lying are like the string, and the Wrest or Peg in some Instrument. The string hath a delicate sound, sweet, and pleasing to the eare; But the Peg doth skreeke, squeake, and creake like a Cart-wheele, and can hardly be turn'd and wrested. The string gently yeelds, willingly stretching & inlarging it selfe, till you haue strained it to your liking; But the Peg goes still twirling and tur­ning, being wrung, wrinched, and pinch't vpon by the string. Iust so stands the case, for all the world, betwixt Truth and Lying. Truth is the Peg, and Lying the string: Well may a Lye goe working and winding it selfe vpon Truth, which is the Peg, and leaue some print, or signe therein, making it to sound harsh & vntuneable to the eare, but in the end, it goes (although with some difficulty) turning and winding a Lye so long, till Truth remaine whole and sound, like the Peg; and Lying crack't and broken, like the String.

If I had treated Truth, all those torments, affronts, and afflictions which Guzmans course of life, what it was. I had runne thorow and indured, could not in the end but haue set me safe in some one good Port or other, and haue brought me with ioy to the fortunate Ilands. But the whole course of my life, was lying, coozenage, and rogue­rie, and soe like the string of an Instrument, when it came to be put in tune, it could not indure any the least straining, and so presently brake, it was not able (I say) to resist and withstand Truthes stretching hand, but went still turning and twirling, from one mischiefe to another, and from one euill into a worse. So one Deepe calleth vp another, and one Waue comes head-longly tumbling in vpon the necke of his fellow.

The Pin is now turn'd, and I am rais'd vp to be a Page, God grant I may come downe no lower. That thing which receiueth violence and is strained Guzman tur­ned Page. to a course contrary to its nature, it is impossible, but it must reuert and re­turne to it's center, be it low, or be it high; for that is the place, vvhich it doeth naturally affect and desire. They tooke mee from the height of my glory, and brought me downe so lowe as to serue, which (being so opposite Nullum vio­lentum diu­turnum. as it was to my disposition) you shall see how long I continued in that course.

Hee that walkes too fast, will be quickly weary; And to passe so suddenly from one extreme to another, as it cannot be done with safetie, so is it con­serued with difficultie. If a Tree take not deepe rooting, it will neuer beare any fruit, but quickly dries and withers away; So he that is newly put into an Office, cannot suddenly take any deepe rooting; and say hee should be set­tled therin some yeeres, he will hardly thriue in a strange soyle, that doth not [Page 228] sort with his nature, and so will proue in the end as vnprofitable to himselfe as vnfruitfull to others. It was too great aleape, to rise from a Picaro, to be a Page, (though in a manner they are correlatiues, and haue a kinde of relati­on one to another, only their habit doth difference and distinguish them) and I could not choose but grieue, as oft as I thought vpon it. That which was common vvith others, fell out quite contrary with mee. For it is said, Que las honras, quanto mas creçen, mas hambre ponen. That the more honour a man has, the more he desires. But I was so farre from that liking, that it vvas ra­ther Prouerb. to mee a loathing. Such high places did not please me; Those that I had profest, those were for mee. Cada vno, en lo que se cria. Let euery man betake himselfe to that, wherein he hath beene traind and bred vp. Is it fit (thinke Prouerb. you) to take the fish out of the [...]ater, and to breed Peacocks therein? To put an Oxe to fly, and an Eagle to plough? To feede a Horse vvith sand? To sup a Falcon with straw? And to [...]ake from a man his Risibilitie (to speake like a Logician) and facultie of laughing? I was bred vp among the Flesh­pots of Egypt; my Center vvas a good victualing house; my Circle, a good honest Tauerne; and my end, Vice; vvhereunto I did bend amaine; In that I tooke pleasure, that was health and life to me; and vvhat was contrarie to that, I tooke no ioy in it, it vvas not for me, nor vvas I willing to make it mine.

My mouth was now daintily fed; my backe delicately clad; my eyes swolne with too much sleepe; my hands (for want of worke) as soft as silke; my belly, What Guzman did whilst be was a Page. (vvith too much pampering) as hard brac't as any Drumme; my buttocks brawny, and thicke-skin'd with too much sitting; and my chaps (like a Mon­kies) nimbly walking on both sides, vvhen I was at my meat. Tell me, hovv was it possible for me to content my selfe; how indure to be put to a set Pen­sion, to stay waiting all day long at a doore, at nights to stand with a Torch in my hand, leaning against a wall, and standing vpon one legge like a Crane, till it be almost day-breake? Sometimes, (if not for the most part) supper-lesse, but frozen (I am sure) with cold, expecting the Visits that goe, out and come in, being like a Ladder for others to goe vp and down; or like a Smiths paire of Bellowes, ascending, and descending, to beare others company, waiting vpon my Lords Caroche early and late; not onely at some set seasons and cer­taine times, but at all houres both of day and night, being my red in the Win­ter vvith durt; and choaked in the Summer vvith dust; holding a Trencher betweene my Thumbs at meales; my belly growing leane and lanke through alonging desire, feeding on the best dishes with my eyes, and wishing in my soule, that euery daintymorsell at the boord, had been meat for my mouth. Besides, going vpon one message, and returning with another, tyring out my legges, and wearing out my shooes, and being allowed but euery moneth a paire, vve were forced to goe fifteene dayes of the thirty bare-foote. These are the things, that yeerely passe from the first of Ianuary, to the last of De­cember. Pages gettings, what they be. And he, who at the end thereof should aske vs: How haue you thriu'd this yeere? What haue you got?

The answer is at hand, Sir, I rest vpon my Lords loue and fauour, I referre my selfe to his discretion and goodnes. I eate of his meat, and drinke of his drinke; in Winter feeding on that which is cold; in Summer, that which is hot. And what I haue in that kinde, is but a poore pittance, and that little The clocke of a Pages stomake, must goe still [...] hower after his Masters. none of the best, and commonly some-what of the latest, that aman were as good goe without it. I weare what cloathes he giues me, such as you see; as a Liuery rather of my seruitude, then of deuotion to cloath mee; not giuen me to keepe me warme, but to doe my Lord honour: And those too must be made to their minde, and our cost. So that our money payes for it, and they choose the colours.

Our greater gaines did consist in cold fare, for there was not one of vs that [Page 229] could finger a full Trencher: scraps, and picking of their teeth, wee had in some aboundance, and with these wee intertained our selues, and the like poore Relicks that they left, and some refuse fruits, that were not worth the eating, and such things as these, or worse, were all the fruits of our labours.

When the winde blew fresh, and that wee had got a matter of some ten or twelue A matter of some eight pence, or nine pence. Quartes, which with vs was a great summe, we rais'd this mo­ney out of so many drops and flakes of Waxe, which wee tooke off from our Torches, which we sold to some old Cobler or other. Hee amongst vs that could get vp a little stocke, that were worth any thing; though it were neuer so small, this man had a sufficient Patrimony, and did great things with it, he might buy him a penny-pasty at the Cookes, and other the like odde kinde of iunkets; but if he were taken in the manner; he was sure to be whipt for his labour. This was his iudgement. Onely it was permitted vnto vs to steale. I say (if we had stolne) it was held the lesse euill of the two. For if it had beene permitted, and that we might haue beene suffered so to doe, I would so cun­ningly haue imployd my wits in that kinde, that I would in a short time haue beene able to set vp a Chandlers shop. But if I did make benefit of mine owne Torch, or filch now and then from my fellowes some of theirs, that was all that I did. But they were so base, and so crafty withall, that I neuer saw them busie themselues about any other thing, being more desirous to lose their meat, then that; for victuals are consumed in the belly, and can not afterwards be sold to profit; and yet for these things too, they had a thousand shifts and rogueries.

For I saw one of them once take a Hony-combe from the table, and pre­sently wrapt it in his Handkerchiefe, and clapt it into his Pocket. But because A Page steales a Hony-Combe, waiting at table; The Story of it, and his punish­ment. he waited at the table, and for that he could not carry it so speedily as he would haue done to the Hauen of Safety, nor land it in so good a place as he desired, it hapned that the heat of the weather, and the warmth of his pocket, mel­ted the Honey, which in great haste came trickling downe his Breeches, and dropt out at his knees. My Lord spide it, as he sate at Table, who could scarce forbeare laughing; at last, to make himselfe merry, he call'd him vnto him and commanded him to put downe his Hose. The Page did so. And when his hands came to touch vpon the Honey, it clung fast to his fingers ends, where­at they fell a laughing, and he went away ashamed. But he had sowre sauce to his sweet meat; for besides that he neuer tasted of the Honey, hee was so soundly lasht, that his breech dropt Waxe, as fast as the Combe did Honey. Which misfortune should neuer haue befalne me, for I was perfect in all kind of roguerie, and would neuer haue beene to seeke of some slight or other for cleanely conueyance. And that my sword might not rust in my scabberd, but that I might still keepe my hand in vre, I was euermore a practising vpon some toyes and trifles, petty things, not worth the talking, onely to set my fel­lowes wits aworke, and to giue them a bone to gnaw vpon.

The Diuell (I thinke) brought Fooles and Block-heads to the Court, who Foolish Pages, not fit for Court. let euery good morsell slip besides their mouthes: a troublesome and weari­some kinde of people to treat withall, vnfit for the managing of businesse; in­supportable in their carriage, and tedious in their conuersation. A man should be like to a good Horse, or a good Greyhound, vpon all occasions to take his carreere, and to make his course; and moreouer hee must carry himselfe in a coole and quiet manner.

There were Pages good store; but I must tell you, that the most of them, nay, I will inlarge my speech a little more, and say; That they were all Chips of one and the same blocke, a company of beetle-heads, dull-spirited fellowes; that had no wherry in them, not onely when they were in their Lords pre­sence; but likewise, when they were out of his sight. They were as slow in [Page 230] executing his will, as they were lazie in getting vp from their beds; they were idle, retchlesse, carelesse, all set vpon loytering, exercising neither their bo­dies, nor their braines, which made mee the more willing to play the Guzmans tricks being a Page. Guzman hath a licorish tooth. Wagge with them, and for my better pastime, to put one pretty tricke or o­ther vpon them.

I did store my selfe with Stockins, Garters, Bands, Hats, Handker­chiefes, Poynts, Cuffes, Shooes, and whatsoeuer I could rape or wring from them, which I hid betweene the Straw of one of my fellowes beds, because, if any search were made, they should not finde them in mine. I altered the propertie of these things in an instant, they neuer lay long by me, I would chop them for old iron, rather then bee troubled with the keeping of them. It behooued them to looke vvell about them, and to see that they had all safe and sure vnder locke and key, for if they should carelessely leaue any thing abroad, those eyes that found it gone, did neuer see it returne againe.

Many of these waggish parts I plaid, which were but tricks of youth, and nothing else. But I fell afterwards into a fault, which I would haue sworne of all others (so farre was it from my thought) I should neuer haue offended in. It was a licorish sinne, euen the sinne of Gluttony. Which I doe not know, whether it proceeded from my eating by measure (as being stinted) or whether that my longing did prouoke and stirre vp my appetite? or whe­ther it were now muing time with mee, and that I was to change my old feathers, and get me new; for they say, that men, while they liue heere in this world, doe at certaine times and seasons, (as other creatures shead their haires, and recouer new coats) change and alter their manners and con­ditions.

I was now growne so licorish, and so sharpe-set vpon sweet meats, (for the pleasant taste they had, while they passed downe my throat) that neuer any blind man was halfe so forward to goe repeating his Letanies, and o­ther his set prayers, from doore to doore, to get an Almes, as I was to please my palate: And looke whatsoeuer came within the The Spanish word is Colum­brar. To discerne a thing a farre off, which can hardly be perce­ued what it is. It seemeth to be borrowed from the Latine word Collimare. Quod propriū est oculorum, cùm eos in angulum re­torquentes, obliquè ali­quid aspici­mus, penitus­que in rem ali­quam defigi­mus, quem ad­modum Sagit­tarij solent, cùm aliquid sibi addictum designant. reach of mine eyes, were it as farre as they could ken, and safe inough (as it might be supposed) from catching, yet could it not escape my Eagles-talons.

And as the Hart, with his breathing, drawes your Snakes out of the bowels of the earth: So I, if I could but once come to set mine eyes vpon such, or such a dainty, it was sure mine owne, they rendred themselues at first into my hands; my hands, they turn'd them ouer to my mouth; and my mouth com­mitted them close prisoners to my belly, where these sweets remained, till they were no longer sweet.

My Lord Cardinall had a great Chest (which kinde of Chests are much vsed in Italy) of white Pine; and I haue likewise seene good store of them in Spaine, which they vsually bring from thence, stuft with Merchandize, but especially with glasses, and earthen cups and dishes, the better to keepe them from breaking.

This Chest stood in a with-drawing Chamber, for to regalar, and cheere himselfe withall, being full of diuers sorts of Conserues; there, I say, were your dry Suckets delicately candied, your A Peare of a delicate taste, brought from the City of Berga­mo in Italy, whence it hath the name. Bergamota Peare of A gar [...]en of great both [...] [...], and [...], [...]ll of all [...] of [...], [...] few [...]gues from Madrid; It is the Kings garden. Aranxues, your Genoa Cherry, your Melon of Granada, your Seuillian Cytrons, your Oranges, and Pome-Citrons of Plasencia, your Lemons of Murçia, your pretty little Cucumbers of Ualençia, your budds of the Ilands, your A kinde of [...] growing on the ground like a Melon. Also they are called Amo­ris poma. Loue-Apples, because they prouoke a man to Lust. Vid. Couarru. Ver. Berengena. Berengenas of Toledo, your A kinde of dryed Peaches, which [...]eped some foure and twenty [...]ures in Wine, are good meat. Orejones of Aragon, your Potatas of Ma­laga: your Pippens, Parsneps, Carrets, Pompeons, besides a thousand seue­rall sorts of Comfits, and an infinit number more of sundry different kinds of Sweet-meats, which did disquiet my spirit within me, not suffering my soule to take any rest.

[Page 231] As often as he made any Colation, or did eate any of these things, he gaue me the Key, himselfe standing by, while I tooke them out, neuer trusting mee with them alone by my selfe.

This distrust of his, begot anger in me; and this anger, a desire of reuenge. This (though I were broad awake) did I still dreame on. I thought with my selfe (God forgiue me for it) how I might possibly come to haue a fling at this Chest, and open this Myne, which was more precious vnto me, then all the gold in the Indies.

I told you already, that the Chest was a very great one, beeing to my see­ming two yards and a halfe in length, one in depth, and another in breadth: it was as white (if not more) then any Paper; the Barres and all the rest of the Iron-worke about it, as small as your finest threds of Cambricke, curi­ously wrought, smooth and neatly polished, strengthened with good strong plates at the corners, set with studs very handsomely; the Locke stood in the midst, there being but one Key to open to this sweet Paradise, and that was in my Lords custodie. If thou know'st what it is to steale, or hast euer heard tell of it; or would'st faine learne how to rob a Chest, and to take what thou wilt out of it, without either falsifying of a Key, ripping open of a Locke, taking off the Hindges, or breaking vp the Boards; Listen but to me, and I will tell thee how it may be done.

When it was my turne to waite, and that there were any Visits, or o­ther necessarie businesses at home, whose present being in action, might pro­mise Guzman steales his Lords sweet­meates. me securitie; I had certaine Iron tooles in a readinesse, which I had prepared of purpose, with the helpe whereof I did by little and little heaue vp the lid of the Chest, till I could thrust in a pretty little wedge of wood, and then heauing it vp a little more, I did put in a round sticke, about the bignesse of the head of a reasonable good big Hammer, and this I went wre­sting in by degrees, turning and winding it faire and softly towards the locke, whereunto, the neerer and neerer still that it grew, the more and the more did it still heaue vp my corner, so that being (as I was) but a Youth, and ha­uing a slender hand, and a small arme, I tooke out such Sweet-meats, as I had most minde vnto, wherewith I fill'd my pockets as full as euer I could stuffe them. But when I could not reach now and then to those that were farther off, that I might meet at last with this their contuma [...]ie and rebellion, I did clap vpon the end of a Cane, or some little sticke, two Pinn's, one hauing a sharpe point, and the other made crooked like a hooke, and by the helpe of these two, I brought them to their due obedience.

And thus I became Lord and Master of what-soeuer was within the Chest, without the helpe of any key. In which theft, I carried my selfe so cunningly, that though I had stolne much, yet there was nothing found to be missing. At last I lighted vpon a Melacotone of Castile, which being as faire, and as goodly a one (for it's greatnesse) as euer I saw in all my life, and gilded all o­uer, my appetite was much prouoked therewith, it seeming to be one intire piece of Gold, when I first tasted it: the relish whereof (me thinkes) remai­neth yet still in my mouth; me thought I neuer tasted any thing better, nor had I euer seene the like before.

Now, because this was a knowne Piece, when it was once discouered, that this curiositie was wanting, there was presently a generall suspition concei­ued; but not any the least thought or iealousie, that it had beene taken out so, as indeed it was, but was rather imagined, that it was done by some counterfeit key. And this did much trouble my Lord the Cardinall, that he should haue any in his house, that should dare to falsifie his locks, especially in so priuate and secret a roome as this was, which he reserued for his owne vse. Whereupon he forthwith called vnto him his principall seruants, to the end that he might search out the truth of this businesse. But as good lucke would [Page 232] haue, it fell out so happily, that all that I had stolne thence, was downe my throat, and thorowly digested, not any the least remembrance thereof re­maining any more in my possession. Now my Lord had to his Steward a me­lancholy Chaplaine, a fellow of an ill concoction, who wisht my Lord, that all his seruants should be call'd together, and afterwards haue them shut vp in one chamber, where they should be thorowly examined, one by one, to see what could be got out of them, and that their chambers likewise be searcht; for such a piece of worke as this could not proceed from any man of reason, but from the lickorish mouth of some of his Pages, or some other his younger boyes about the house, which had a sweet tooth in their head.

Well, we were all lockt vp close, like birds in a cage, but to no end and pur­pose in the world; for they found vs to be all true () blades, not one false one (a) In Spain, all your Sword­blades, are of one length, otherwise they be held vn­lawfull, and are forfeited to the Iustice. Prouerb. amongst vs all, but according to the right marke, iust and euen to a hayre. This storme was ouer-past with vs, but not my Lords care; For, I can assure you, our Master was wonderfull desirous to come to the true knowledge hereof; And by reason of the great stirre that was made about it; I did re­fraine for some few daies, till this businesse might be ouer-blowne, and that the mater was in a manner quite forgotten, y [...]uuiesse otro asno verda; And that I might haue some faire occasion to haue another fling at them.

Well, I durst not for a prettie while after put my hand to the Chest, nor once offer to cast so much as an eye towards it. But that crookednesse, which a tree once taketh in it's tender growth, the bigger it growes, the crookeder it is, waxing still worse and worse; And therefore those Knauish trickes, which I had learned in my youth, were so deepely imprinted in me, that they could not be blotted out. So that I was as well able to liue without them, as without drawing ayre, and fetching of my breath: Especially in those things, whereunto I had beene accustomed from a childe; for I had beene long practised in them, and they pleas'd me passing well, and I tooke such delight and pleasure in them, as in nothing more.

In a word, I must vp into the Saddle againe, though it cost me another fall I could not choose but goe visit my sweet friends, to see how they did; I got me againe to my old haunt, to see what good game I could finde.

One day then amongst the rest, when my Master was at play, I thought with my selfe, that my master could not (would he neuer so faine shift them off) but keepe those Cardinals companie, that were come in kindenesse to see him. This Chest stood in a by-roome, within his bed-Chamber, much after the manner of a Closet.

Now, I had no sooner trust vp my doublet, and tuckt vp the sleeue of my shirt, and thrust in mine arme as farre I could reach, but my Lord had list to make water. Whereupon he rose vp, and came into his Chamber, and not finding any of his Pages there, he went and tooke the Vrinal himselfe, which stood at his beds head, and whilest he was making water, it was my ill hap to heare him: which sudden and vnexpected accident did so startle me, and affright me, that going about to get out mine arme quickly (that I mightnot be taken in the manner) making (as it seemed) more haste then good speed, my round Rouler fel rumbling on the floore, the Chest, that presently shuts it selfe vpon me, while mine arme, like a Sparrow in a Pit-fall, or a Mouse in a Trap, is taken prisoner betwixt the locke and the lid, where it was held too fast to get forth in haste. At the noyse of the fall, my Lord askt, Who's there? I could doe no lesse then make answer to his call, but the Diuell a foot that I could stirre to come forth vnto him. Thereupon he comes in, finding me vpon my knees, stealing the Hony-combes out of his Hiue. He demanded of me, what I made there? I confest the whole matter how it was, and without any more adoe (for I saw there was no fence for it) I told him the whole truth of the businesse. But when he saw how prettily I was taken, the more he look't [Page 233] vpon me, the more desire he had to laugh; and to make his mirth the fuller, he call'd to those, that were in the next roome at play, that they likewise might come & see, how the bird hung by the wing, & could not get loose. When they saw how I was caught, they all fell a laughing, as though their hearts would haue burst for want of breath; yet had they so much left at last, as to intreat his Lordship, that this fault might be forgiuen me, as being the first that I had offended him in; & the rather, for that it is giuen to al Youth, to haue a likorish tooth. My Lord stood off, and would by no meanes be brought to yeeld; no intreatie would serue the turne, I must be whipt, there was no remedie, but I must be brought to the blocke.

Well, when they saw they could not procure my pardon, then they grew to a new Consultation, touching the number of the stripes; whereon they were so long a deuising, as if it had beene a thing contained in the Decretals, or some Pontificiall Act, that they had seriously sate on. In the end, thé num­ber concluded on in this Conclaue of Cardinals, was twelue, a full doozen I was to haue, neither more nor lesse. And the care of this paiment was com­mitted to Sir Nicholas, my Lords Secretary, my mortall enemie, who pre­sently carried me away to his Chamber, and layd them on so soundly, and withso good a will, that for a fortnight after I was not able to sit vpon my breech; but he did not goe so cleare away with this businesse as he thought he should, for it was not long e're I did cry quittance with him, and returned this payment seuen-fold into his owne bosome; so that he had no great cause, by that time I had done with him, to brag of his bargaine. And that I may not delay you any longer, this tricke anon after I put vpon him.

My gentleman was much troubled with Lat: Culex. A Gnat, which the Spaniards call by the name of Mosquito. They bumme more, and s [...]ing and bite worse in that Countrie, then here with vs, leauing knobs and bunches in the face. Mosquitos, which did so per­secute him, that he could not sleepe for them, they did so disquiet and tor­ment him; All Rome did swarme with them, and in our house we had reaso­nable good store.

Whereupon, (hearing him complaine much of them, and how hee was bitten and vexed by them) I told him I would giue him a remedy, which we did vse in Spaine; wherewithall to destroy this troublesome Vermine. Hee thankt me for it, and intreated me very earnestly, that I would doe him the kindenesse to giue it him. I told him, that he should get him a good bundle of The Spanish word [...], Peregil. del nombre. Lat: Petroseli­num. Apio mi­nudo, que se cria [...]tre las penas; Deste se baze la sal. sa, que llama­mos, Peregil. y se echa en los quisados, y en las ensala­das. It is tak [...]n diuers­ly, sometimes for Parsley, some­times for Smallage, and sometimes for Sa [...]piere. Guzman crye [...] quittance with the Secretary. Petroselinum, and hauing steept it well in good Wine-Vineger, hee should put it at his beds head, to the smell whereof all the Mosquitos would come; whereupon, as soone as euer they lighted, they would presently fall downe dead. He beleeued me, and presently puts it in practice. But when he was gone to bed, and had laid himselfe downe to sleepe, such a swarme of these buzzing busie Flyes came flying about his eares all the night long, and did so plague and torment him, as if they had pull'd out his eyes with Pin­cers, and held him by the nose with corne-tongs, as Saint Dunstan did the Diuell.

Whil'st they were thus nibbling on his nose, eyes, and all the other parts of his face; he bestow'd a thousand buffets on his cheekes, thinking with those smart claps to kill these angry creatures; and perswading himselfe that they would die at last, when they lighted vpon the receipt, that was prepared for them, he past away the time as well as he could vntill the morning.

But the next night after (because this remedy had not drawne onely those of the house thither; but all the rest of the Mosquitos, that were bordering there-about) they did so be-peps him, that not onely his face was most vilely dis-figured therewith, but all the rest of the parts of his body, wher-vnto they were able to reach, (for some they could not come at for the cloathes,) were taken in that excessiue manner, so be-pimpled, and so be-spotted, that hee was forced to forsake his lodging, and to get him gone with all the speed he could.

[Page 234] The Secretary was madded at the matter, and could haue found in his heart to haue kill'd me.

But my Lord, when hee look't vpon this ill-fauour'd faced knaue, and saw that he seemed so like a Leper (for he had not one free place about him, but like a Leopard spotted all ouer) and that I durst not appeare for feare, but playd least in sight, he was ready to burst himselfe with laughing, when hee heard that I had put this iest vpon him.

Wherevpon, commanding me to be called in, when I came, hee askt me, why I had offered the Secretarie so great an affront, and had thus playd the wagge with him?

Wherevnto I answered; Your Lordship may be pleased to remember that you commanded him to giue me a doozen lashes about the businesse of the Sweet-meats. His Commission reach't no further. But I remember very well, how he then vs'd me. For what he gaue me in grosse, I told out by re­tayle, one by one, as a matter much importing my posteriors. Besides, I know it was not your Lordships pleasure (as a thing contrary to your mild and gen­tle disposition) that they should be the stripes of death: but such as my ten­der yeeres were able to beare. But el Domine Nicolao, my Worshipfull good friend Sir Nicholas, that he might not be taxed for abad pay-master, gaue me twenty good sound lashes, the last being more cruell then the first. And so hauing exceeded not onely his Commission, but common humanitie, I thought I had iust cause to cry quittance with him: And thus as you see (whereat I hope your Lordship will not bee offended) I haue reuenged the Wheales on my breech, by returning them on his face. He was the man that stung me, and I got others to sting him. And I hope, my Lord, this is but one for another. Onely the difference is, that he did prosecute this sute against me in his owne person, and I against him by my Attourney.

This was past ouer as a iest, and I heard no more of it. And for that, by reason of my former bold attempt, I was not onely beaten, but banished Guzman ba­nished the Car­dinals Chamber. from the seruice of his Lordships Chamber; I waited in the meane while (during this his displeasure) vpon his Lordships Chamberlaine.

CHAPTER VIII.

MY new Master was a merry pleasant Gentleman, without any gall or malice in the world, set all vpon sport and good fellowship, there was no harme in him in the earth, no fraud, no deceit; but was a man of the old making, an ho­nest true Troiane, without any tricks or Iiggs, iust in his dealings, and as plaine as any Pack-staffe. I knew no fault in him, vnlesse it were a little choller; hee was some-what too touchy, and would (which was the rendernesse of his nature) quickly be tinded. Whereunto I may adde his oue [...]alous and suspitious nature, which would make him many times to imagine things to be otherwise then they were meant, it beeing the condition of such dispositions to interpret all things to the worst. Quit him of these two qualities, (which were not ouer-much inherent in him) and there was not a fairer condition'd man to conuerse withall; if you would haue sought a whole Countrey, you could not haue met with his fellow.

[Page 235] This Bonus Socius had but poore Parents, to whom he dayly sent his owne allowance, and now and then he would either dine or sup with them, as he did the night before that hapned vnto him, which you shall heare by and by.

What with his drinking of water, and eating certaine Taxarinas (which is a kinde of meat made of Paste, cut out into slices, boyled with the fat of Birds, and seasoned with Pepper) he came not home halfe well, and complai­ning of the crazinesse of his stomake, he went directly to his Chamber, and got him forthwith to bed.

Now his Lord, missing him at supper, asked for him: They told him how it was with him. He sent one of his Gentlemen to visit him, and to bring him word how he did.

To which message hee made answere, that he did not finde himselfe well, but he hop'd in God, he should be well the next morning, being much com­forted that his Lordship had been pleased so farre forth to grace his seruant, as to send vnto him, to know how hee did, for which fauour hee rested much bound vnto his Lordship, returning the Messenger, with all humble thankes, and the best remembrance of his loue and seruice.

Thus this matter passed for the present. The morrow after I went to the house of his Parents, with some prouision for their dinner, one of my fellowes remaining with him, who was brushing of his cloathes against his Master should rise.

He, and the Secretary vs'd to breake many iests one vpon another, and ma­ny The iest that the Secretary put vpō Guzman's Master. merry passages past betweene them; And, because they were harmelesse, and without any preiudice to either, my Lord was so farre from misliking them, that he tooke much delight and pleasure in them.

The Secretarie, as soone as he was vp and ready, went towards his Cham­ber, and meeting with my fellow, who was there ready at hand, waiting when he should be call'd for, askt him; How his Master did? He made answere, That his Master was newly falne asleepe, and that he had not taken one houres rest all that night, but that now (God be thanked) he slept soundly, and well ho­ped that the worst was past.

It is well (said the Secretarie) and seeing it is so, its pitie to wake him; but in the meane while, till he be ready to rise, (which I presume will not bee with the soonest) I prethee let me intreat thee to goe a little way with a ser­uant of mine, to helpe him to bring home a certain commodity for me, which he cannot well doe alone, and make all the haste I pray that you can, for I will tarry heere till you come, lest your Master might chance to wake and call for you. The yong Lad did as he desired, and went his way.

Now the Secretary, taking hold on this occasion, that his friend had that night supt abroad, and was not in his Lordships presence, (as he was wont to be) that he might haue him in his eye, as he sate at supper: deuised with him­selfe how he might put some pretty iest vpon him: and at last the conception of his braine, brought forth this merry Babe. He dresses me a pretty Youth in womans apparell, attired in the habit of a Curtizan, and places this Boy soft­ly and secretly behinde his bed. Now this honest man was all this while fast asleepe, and the entrance was free and open vnto him, whilest the Secretarie, for the more surety, went in first himselfe without being heard; and after­wards taking this Youth by the hand, led him softly along, and there hee hid himselfe close behinde the bed, as he had beene before instructed, and there he remained quiet, not so much as offering once to stirre.

This being done, the Secretarie went forth, and going to seek out his Lord, he found him a walking, saying of some prayers to himselfe, as his maner was; who as soone as he saw him, his Lordship demanded of him, how the Cham­berlaine did? Who told him; I inquired thereof but now, and his seruant told me, that he hath not been well all this night; And I doe not much mar­uell [Page 236] at it; for being with him last night, before I went to bed to see how hee did, I talkt vnto him, but me thought he answered me with an ill will. What ayles him, I know not. There is something in it more then ordinarie, what euer it be; farther I cannot informe your Lordship.

The Cardinall (who was charitie it selfe) presently therevpon made haste to visit him. And when he had set himselfe downe by him, close to his beds head, the Youth comes me out from behinde the Hangings of the bed, and cryes out; Woe is me, most wretched and vnfortunate Woman; What shall I doe? Pardon me (good Sir) for I must be gone, for it is late, and I am afraid my husband will misse me. And with that, she went her way, passing through the midst of all the Cardinals seruants, attending there vpon his Lordship.

The Cardinall, who thought him to be a Saint, began to blesse himselfe, and was much amazed thereat. And the Chamberlaine, he on the other side, was as much astonished, taking it to haue beene some Vision, or strange Ap­parition. He first crosses himselfe, then cryes out, IESVS! The Diuell, the Diuell: and therewith lept out of his bed in his Shirt, running vp and downe the roome, as if he had beene out of his wits.

The Secretarie, and some other, that were priuy thereunto, fell a smiling, and had much adoe to forbeare laughing out-right; whereby the Cardinall perceiu'd, that it was meerely a iest, and they did not sticke to confesse as much, telling the whole truth of the matter, and how it was carried.

But the Chamberleine could not stand still, but ranne vp and downe from place to place, not knowing which way to turne himselfe. And albeit they did all labour to quiet him, yet for all that they could doe; they could not in haste bring him to himselfe againe: but was much abashed; and mightily ashamed of this scoffe and iest that was put vpon him; and the more, for that it was in the presence of his Lord. But in the end (like a good Courtier) hee dissem­bled it as well as hee could. And the Cardinall went away blessing him­selfe, and laughed heartily as he wont along at this conceited merriment.

Now, by that time I was come backe, all this businesse was ouer-past: But I was as sensible of it, as if they had giuen me so many stripes. And the Cham­berlaine would with all his heart haue parted with the best eye in his head, to be fully reuenged on him.

But when he saw, that I looked some-what sad vpon the matter (himselfe being likewise no lesse heauy) he said vnto me; What thinkest thou (Guzma­nillo) of the wrong that these Villaines haue done me? To whom I made an­swere; They haue done well, Sir, and plaid their parts with you very finely, what would you more? But if they had vs'd me so scuruily as they haue done you, I verily perswade my selfe, that his Holinesse should not neede to inioyne them any penance for this offence; nor would I leaue it to mine Heires in my last Will and Testament to repay this debt, but I would quit scores with them my selfe, and pay them home with aduantage: And ere I had done with them, they should very vvell put that in their eye, which they should get by the reckoning. They all knew me to be a notable Wagge, and that I had an vn­happy wit of mine owne for all kinde of knauery.

But why doe I spend the time in talke, when my Lungs are ready to leape out at my throat, and swell with fulnesse of breath, out of the desire they to haue vent something? But I kept my selfe aloofe, and was tender to touch vpon that string, as being loth to aduise and counsell him what to doe, not holding it lawfull for a Page to reuenge the iniuries of a graue Minister vpon another that is his equall, Ande cada oueja con su pareja. Like with like doth well. For it is no good iesting with a mans betters. One was enough for Prouerb. Let euery m [...]n meddle with his match. me, which might the better be borne withall, because it was in causa proprie; I was toucht in mine owne person, and therefore had the more reason to right my selfe.

[Page 237] But in this particular, why should I wilfully intangle my selfe in that net, whence I should not afterwards be able to escape, with lesse then the laying on of many a sound lash; or to come forth with mine eares foure fingers lon­ger then they went in, or with the losse of the haire of my head? I there­fore held my peace, and kept me quiet. But I, who was naturally of a hot and boyling spirit, being often importuned by him, hee making me great offers and large promises, giuing me besides to vnderstand, that the Cardinall should know, that it was a childe of mine owne begetting, and the worke­manship of mine owne hands, in defence of him who was then my Master, I resolued with my selfe to enter into the Action, and to vndertake this busi­nesse in his behalfe, and to be the sole Plotter and contriuer thereof my selfe. And so I let some few dayes passe ouer, waiting for some faire occasion that might giue warmth for the hatching of this bird.

When I had found (as I thought) a fit time, and that the Ordinary Post of Spaine was to depart, the Secretary was very busie about his dispatches, which required haste. I bought me then a little Rosin, Frankincense, and Ma­sticke, I pounded it, and sifted it all together, till I had wrought it fine, and as small as any Meale. The Secretaries seruant was that morning busied about his Masters cloathes, brushing and making of them cleane with all the speed he could. To him goe I, telling him; Doest thou heare (honest Iacobo) I am Guzmans iest that he put vpon the Secretary, to reuenge his Ma­sters quarrell. come to tell thee, that I haue a dainty piece of Bacon on the Spit, it is now ready, Bread I haue likewise prouided, there is nothing wanting but Wine, if thou wilt finde that, thou shalt share with me; if not, pardon me, for I shall seeke out one that will. He quickly replyde: No, (good Guzman) no, doe not so, for I will giue thee Wine to it. Goe to then (quoth I) stay thou here; for I will presently be with both it, and thee.

Whilest that he went to the Despensa. El lugar, donde se ponen la [...] cosas, que se traen para co­mer, y beuer. Such places pro­perly belong only to Embassadours of Princes, or to great Dukes, and not to ordinary persons. Dispense for wine, I tooke forth my pa­per of Powders, & turning the inside of the Breeches outward, I besprinkled them with a little wine, which I carried about me in a little round glasse Vial, and threw good store of these my prepared Powders vpon them: which when I had done according to my minde, I turned the Breeches againe, put­ting them iust in the same order they were in, when the Youth left them. He returned anon after with a good Iarre of Wine, and before he could speake vnto me, his Master call'd for him to come in, and bring him his cloathes, for he would rise. He left the Wine with me, and I him within. Where they were both so busie about their Papers, that it was noone before they had dis­patch't, & were ready to come forth. The Secretary was a very hayrie man of his body; & the Powders began to play their part, & to work their effect. The Dog-dayes were then come in, and with the extremitie of those heates, they wrought so vpon his body, that from the girdle downwards he was as if it had beene a Seare-cloth of Pitch, which clung so close vnto him, and was growne so stiffe withall, that he was terribly tormented therewith, for euery hayre did giue him such a twinge when he did but moue, or when with some sudden reach they did rend and vnroot themselues from the flesh, that the tearing of euery seuerall hayre seemed vnto him, the plucking out of so many eyes out of his head.

When he saw in what case he was, he began to call his people about him, to know the cause thereof, but none of them could tell, nor were able to an­swer to that account, till that the Chamberlaine came in, and told him; Sir, this is Quid pro quo; one for another; Qui moccat, moccabitur. Harme watch, harme catch.

This, sir, is call'd, The beating of the Fencer out of his Schoole. You see for all your cunning, you may take a knocke as well as another man. It is but blow for blow; you haue giuen me one Venew, and I haue giuen you another. And so let vs shake hands and be friends.

[Page 238] Well, (to be briefe) the iest ended in this, that they were faine to get a paire of Sizars, and goe cutting hayre after hayre, which was worke enough for two of his seruants, and yet were forced in the end to vnrip his Breeches, that they might come the better to clip away the hayres.

This Iest tooke better then the former, because it was a little tarter then the other, and stucke closer vnto him. By vertue of this, I receiued the con­firmation of my Knauerie, and was taken euer after for the same man I was; So that all did seeke to flye from my iests, as they would flye from the Plague.

Two moneths of my banishment were now past and gone. After which expiration of time, I returned againe to my former Office; but with the same Guzman recei­ued againe into the Cardinals seruice. A Fable touching Modestie. little Modestie, and feare of doing euill, as before. You may haply haue heard tell of that tale, when Modestie, the Ayre and the Water tooke leaue one of another. Who at their parting, asking where they should meet againe and see each other: the Ayre said, that they should finde her on the tops of Hills; The Water, that they should be sure of her, in the bowels of the Earth. But Modesty, that she being once gone from them, it was impossible to meet with her any more. I haue lost her, she is quite gone from me, and without any hope of euer returning. But it makes no matter. A quien le falta, la Villa es suya, Where she is away, the Towne is ours. Prouerb.

Who would not haue beene feared with those former proceedings, and fully resolued with himselfe neuer to doe the like againe? But what my a­mendment was, I shall deliuer vnto you, and what hapned vnto me there­vpon. I had certaine sweet guts in my belly, and so made and accustomed thereunto, that those dayes that I mist of my sweet-meates, was a taking of water from the sicke, or Wine from a Drunkard. I would haue ventured the breaking of my necke from the top of A Castle in Rome. Prouerb. Santo Angelo, rather then I would not downe to steale them, if they were to be had vpon the face of the earth. And hence is it; Que quien teme la muerte, no gozala vida. That he that feares Death, does not inioy his life. If feare would haue made me turne coward, I had neuer tasted that so sweet a life. I cast vp my account, and made this reckning with my selfe; Suppose they should take me againe with the like? What can they doe vnto me? or what hurt can come of it? I haue alwaies obserued, that Feare is painted feeble, leane-visag'd, staring-hayr'd, pale-co­loured, sad-countenanced, heauy, melancholy, naked, fearefull, and not da­ring either to say, or doe that, which it fayne would, and most of all desireth.

Feare is a seruill Act, only proper vnto slaues; it enterpriseth nothing; nor doth any thing succeed well, that it vndertaketh; and is like vnto a co­wardly Feare, how pain­ted: And what manner of thing it is? curre, which knoweth better to barke then to bite. Feare is the soules hang-man; and it is but foolishnesse, to feare that which cannot bee a­uoyded.

In a word, it was impossible for me (such was my condition) to abstaine from being in Action; I was not able to containe my selfe. Happen what may happen; Come what will come; all was one to me. I said to my selfe; Au­daces fortuna iuuat; Fortune befriends braue spirits. Let the worst come to the worst; fall backe, or fall edge, I was sure to pay for it only in my person, and not in my goods, either moueable, or vnmoueable; for it was not Gods will, that I should haue any land of mine owne, whereon to settle my selfe, and make my certaine abode; nor any Se-mouentes, such things as could moue of themselues, and keep me company, whither-soeuer I should goe. My Lord was a great louer of your moyst Suckets, and such liquid Conserues, as they vse to bring from the Canaries in little Barrels, or from the Ilands of the Ter [...]ras; Which Barrels, when they were emptie, were throwne aside, and no reckoning made of them, lying here and there in euery corner as good for [Page 239] nothing. I had got me one of these, containing about halfe an Arroba, Is fiue and twentie pound weight. It is an Arabicke word, Errubun, which is a fourth part of the Verbe Rebbea, To part into foure parts. And ac­cording to this, an Arroba must be in weight, the fourth part of a hundred. It hath it's root from the Heb: Rubaat. Quadrum vel quarta pars. In liquidis, est apud Hispa­nos, octo a­çumbres. i. 8. [...]nophoro­rum. Arroba, which seru'd me in stead of a Trunke, wherein I kept my Cardes, my Dice, Garters, Points, Cuffes, Handkerchiefes, and other things befitting a poore Page.

The Cardinall (as he was sitting one day at dinner,) commanded his Ste­ward, that he should goe amongst the Merchants, and buy him some three or foure Quintal, A hundred pound weight. Centipondi­um. Quintals, of those that were the newest and the freshest, and but late­ly brought in. When I heard him say so, I began presently to cast about with my selfe, how I might make my selfe Master of one of these Barrels. The Cloth was taken away, the Cardinall risen, all gone to dinner: and whilest they were busie at their victuals, I got me into my Chamber, and in the twinkling of an eye, before you could well say This, I clapt me within that Barrell which I had, as many old rags, dust, grauell, or whatsoeuer other trash came first to hand, till I had fill'd it brim-full, and thrust it downe as hard as I could for my life to make it lie the closer. This done, on went the head, then the hoopes, making all fast and sure, so that it was now as handsomely fitted vp as heart could wish, and no man that should haue seene it, but vvould haue sworne (it vvas so artificially handled) that it had beene newly brought from the Indies stuft with roots of The Spanish word is, Escor­zonera. This Herbe the Latines call Riperina. Of this you may reade at large in Couarruuias. Verbe Escorzo­nera. Guzman plots to play the thiefe. His craftie and cunning carriage. Tragopogum, or Goates beard, (as some call it) which is good against poyson.

When I had trimm'd it vp, and made it feat and fit, I let it alone, hauing still an eye, and standing as Sentinell, to watch what successe this proiect of mine might take.

Now, (as good lucke would haue it) behold, about the Euening I did de­s [...]y two Mulo gran­de, y de hueso para litera, ò carga de repu­esto. Couar. p. 108. Azemilas which came along laden with Conserues, who were no sooner entred within doores, but they were eased presently of their bur­then. The Steward commanded the Pages to carry them into the Cardinals lodgings.

I had now a fight of Fortunes foretop, and boldly told her, You shall not goe from me, till I haue taken hold of your hayre. And as I was speaking, I tooke vp one of the Barrels and layd it vpon my shoulders, as the rest of my fellowes did, but lagging a little behinde, giuing them leaue to goe before me: as soone as I was come right ouer against mine owne chamber doore, I sud­denly slipt in, when I saw the coast was cleere, and tooke out that other which I bare to my Lords lodging; and so I made my three returnes, giuing a good account of all my lading.

When the last was come vp, I stood very soberly in the Hall, where my Lord Cardinall was, who said vnto me: What thinke you of this fruit (Guzmanillo?) you cannot put in your hand here, your Wedges will not serue your turne. I reply'd to that point, & told him; My good Lord; Donde no valen [...], aprou [...]chom vnnas. Where the Wedge nought preuailes, woe must make vse of our nayles; if one thing will not doe the deed, another must. And though mine arme cannot get in, my hand may, and that's enough for [...], I will desire no more.

Very good Sir (said my Lord) but as they are now, neither your arme, nor your hand will stand you in stead.

There lyes the skill, quoth I to my Lord; for if they were otherwise [...] to be opened, I would not care a button for them, there is no pleasure in such a [...]ase. In matters of difficultie, your good wits come to their tryall, which onely shew themselues in things of great importance, and not in dri­ [...]ing a nayle into the wall, or in pulling on of a paire of shooes, things easie to be done, and which naturally offer themselues vnto vs at the first sight.

[...]ist thou me so (quoth my Lord?) well, I will once set your wits a wor­ [...]g. If within these eight dayes you shall shew your selfe so nimble-witted, as to [...] one of these from me, I will bestow it on thee for thy labour, and [Page 240] thou shalt haue another besides into the bargaine: But if thou shalt faile there­in, thou shalt then binde thy selfe to receiue such punishment, as shall bee agreed vpon.

My Lord, said I; eight dayes, why, eight dayes is a mans life; it is time i­nough of conscience. The businesse will be too long a doing; and it may be, by putting it off to so large a time, we may either grow cold in the bargaine, or the memory of it dye, and be no more thought vpon.

I accept the fauour offered mee by your Lordship, and if to morrow by this time I shall not finish this businesse, I shal willingly resigne vp my selfe into the Secretaries hands, to be punished at his discretion; Because I assure my selfe, that he would willingly haue the tawing of me, that he might reuenge him­selfe vpon me for the late passage that I put vpon him to his great grie [...]e: for the sent of the Pitch is not yet gone from him, nor his haires come againe.

My Lord laught, and so did they that were about him. And thus the bar­gaine was driuen betweene vs for the next day following. But because I was already on the fore-hand, and was well assured of the businesse, I could, if I would, haue presently cleered my selfe of this debt, but I was willing to let the bond runne on, till the time it was due.

The boord was couered, and my Lord was now set downe to dinner, fee­ding on such things at first, which I brought in, to procure him the better ap­petite to his meate; and looking me in the face, he smilingly said vnto mee, Guzmanillo, it is but a little now to night; That come, your time is past. What will you giue me now to be freed of your bargain? Master Nicolao hath rods in pisse for you, and is prouided for your paiment. And me thinks that he is plot­ting, how he may be reuenged of thee, and thou, how thou maist satisfie thy selfe vpon him. If I might aduise, my counsell should be, that hee should not deale with thee, not so much for thy sake, as his owne. Whereunto I answe­red; I am sure (my Lord) that my punishment is in the Secretaries hands: But I am not yet sure that the Conserues are in mine. Yet if I had store of money to set vpon this cast, and had ought to lose more then the poorenesse of my person, I would venture it all for this once, because I am very confident of my Chance.

Thus dinner past on till the last course was almost ended, and ready to bee taken away; at which time, I went to the Court-cupboord, and taking from thence a Siluer-plate, I fill'd it with the Conserues of that barrell which I had stolne, and therewith I came to the Table, and set them downe before his Lordship.

When my Lord saw, what I had brought him, he blest himselfe, and began to wonder much at the matter, for he himselfe had the barrels in his owne cu­stodie, they were within his owne lodgings, and there he kept them (as he thought) safe inough. He would trust no body with them, in regard of the bar­gaine that was driuen betweene vs: He kept the key himselfe; he bore it al­waies about him. At last he cals the Chamberlaine vnto him, and wils him to goe in, and to count the Barrels, and to see if any of them were opened, or ill-conditioned.

He went in, and finding them both in number and place, to be iust the same as at their first putting in, he came forth againe, and told his Lordship the tale was whole and intire, not a barrell that was missing, and that they were sound and well-conditioned, and not the least suspition to be had (for ought that hee could perceiue) amongst them all, no not so much as the least hayre of his head. Ah, ah, ah, said my Lord, this tricke will not serue your tu [...] ▪ this is a very poore one. Thou would'st make vs beleeue, that thou hast ta­ken that out of one of the Barrels, which thou hast bought with thy money.

With that he turned himselfe towards the Secretarie, and told him, Do­mine Nicolao, I astigne Guzmanillo ouer vnto you, to doe what you list vvith [Page 241] him, and to punish him as you thinke fit, for that he hath lost his wager.

The Secretary made answere, May it please your Lordship to take the cor­rection of him into your owne hands, and to dispose of him as you please; for I for my part will haue no more to doe with him, I will not come neere him, nor his shadow, I dare not; I haue had too much of him already: And if I should now tickle vpon a new score, and make him pay for the old and this together, I should gaine nothing by the reckoning; for I hold him to bee of that vnhappy and dangerous, both wit and nature, that he would in reuenge conuey the next time a nest of Hornets into my breeches, or some other vene­mous vermine, that should either poison me, or sting me to death. And there­fore if your Lordship put him ouer vnto me, and leaue his punishment to my discretion, I freely absolue him thereof, and am willing to imbrace his friendship.

I haue not as yet (said I) offended in that degree, that I had need of absolu­tion. Where there is no matter to worke vpon, it is needlesse to seeke to in­troduce a forme. I am as good as my word, and haue performed what I pro­mised; the wager is mine, I haue wonne it. And if this bee not true that I speake, and that I make it not plainly to appeare vnto you, punish me at your pleasure, I aske no fauour at your hands. De que siruen las palabras, donde ay Prouerb. [...]bras? What need words, where there are Workes? I say, and say it againe, and that confidently, that this Conserue is of that which was brought in ye­sterday; and not onely this, but a whole Barrell thereof is now at this pre­sent whole and vntoucht in my chamber, saue this little that I haue set before his Lordship.

The Cardinall crost himselfe, and wondred how this should be. And vntill dinner was done, and the table taken away, he did nothing else but blesse him­selfe with both his hands. And being desirous to bee certified of the truth thereof, he rose vp, and went into his lodging to bee an eye-witnesse of it himselfe. He lookt vpon all the Barrels, whereon he had set certaine markes, he found them faithfull and true the number full and iust, the key in his owne custody, and could not deuise how this should be.

Herevpon he did verily beleeue, that I had bought a barrell of the very same Conserues, as his were, and said vnto me; Guzmanillo, doest not thou thy selfe know, that thou broughtest in thus many hither? count them now, and see if they be not right. I did so; And when I had done telling, I told him; My Lord, heere is the full number. Pero de lo contado, come el lobo. But it is like the Shepheards numbring of his Sheepe; whereof, when he hath cast Prouerb. vp his reckoning, he shall finde that the Woolfe hath met with one of them by the way. I see they are well, but not all so well as they should be. And that you may see I tell you no lye, let that be brought hither which is in my Chamber, and let this be opened that stands there, and you shall finde that I haue changed the one for the other.

They opened it, whereby they discouered as well the truth, as the vvit I had vsed therein. For the dust, the grauell, the old ragges, and the like trum­perie which I had fill'd it withall, did manifest as much.

They remained all, as men amazed, not knowing what to thinke of it, nor being able for their liues, to imagine how this should be brought about. They did all aske me the question, but I would not acquaint any of them with it: But presently besought his Lordship, that he would be pleased to performe his promise with me. He did so. So that I had that and one more, which vvere two in the whole.

And because they should know that I carried a Noble minde, as it was deli­uered to me with the one hand, so I gaue it with another to my fellow-Pages, who diuided it amongst them. And howbeit my Lord was some-what offen­ded at the finenesse of my theft, yet he did much more wonder at my libera­litie, [Page 242] and thought the better of me for this my free disposition. He was much afrayd of these cunning and subtill tricks of mine, and questionlesse would haue then put me away, but that he was so good and holy a man; and there­fore considered with himselfe; If I should now cast off this yong fellow, some great mis fortune will befall him, by reason of his mis-demeanour. These things that he hath done heere in mine owne house, are but idle tricks of his youth, and I am ne'reawhit the poorer for them. It is lesse harme that hee should hurt me in a little, then through want, offend others in much. And out of this apprehension, he did (the better to dissemble what was past) make of this Vice a Vertue. And it is great wisedome in any man, when a hurt may be healed, for to cure it; and to remedy those things that may bee reme­died: if not, to dissemble it the best he can. He made himselfe merry with it: And as often as any Princes and great Lords came to visit him, as occasion was offered, he would not sticke to make report thereof vnto them.

CHAP. IX.

THe Ordination of Charitie (howbeit I haue pointed at it heretofore) had its first beginning from God. Next in Charity, and its [...]. order follows that of Fathers and Mothers, then of chil­dren, and after them of seruants; who if they be good, are more to be made of, and to be better beloued, then children that are bad. And because my Lord had no children, he did dearely loue those that seru'd him, and was very tender ouer them; placing (next after God, and his Image, which is the poore) all his loue vpon them. The poore are Gods own image. The fruits of Charitie.

He was generally charitable towards all men; as being the first fruit of the Holy Ghost, and the first fire that inflameth mans soule. It is the prime good of all other goodnesse, that flowes from our actions; it is the first beginning of a happy ending. It containes in it Faith and Hope; it is the way that leades to Heauen; it is the bond that binds God vnto Man; it is the worker of Mira­cles; it is the scourge of Pride; and the fountaine of Wisedome.

My Lord did desire so much my amendment, as if his owne had lyen vpon it. He sought to oblige me vnto him by loue, that he might not affright mee with feare. And for to try, if he could reduce me to a vertuous course of life, he did (that he might remoue from me all occasion of longing) regalar me at his owne Table, feeding me from his owne Plate with all the choysest dain­ties and delicacies, and with all manner of sweet Meates: there was not the thing that he did eate of, whereof I had not my share, telling mee in gentle tearmes; Guzmanillo, I giue thee this, to be at truce with thee, in token of peace and amitie: Behold that I, as well as my Secretarie, will hold no con­tention with thee. Content thy selfe with this morsell, whereby I acknow­ledge my selfe to be thy Vassall, bestowing this vpon thee by way of Tribute. This would he smilingly vtter, and with a pleasing countenance, without re­spect L [...]ing Masters. of whosoeuer sate at Table with him, were they neuer so great per­sons, or of what qualitie or condition soeuer. Hee was a maruelous kinde Gentleman, he treated, and esteemed his seruants well, he fauoured, [Page 243] and lou'd them exceedingly, doing for them as farre as his abilitie would reach, so that all of them did loue him with their very heart and soule, and did doe him all true and faithfull seruice. For without all doubt, the Master that respecteth his seruants, is wel serued by those seruants: and if he pay them well, they will deserue their payment: but if he be louing and kinde withall, they adore him as a God. Whereas on the contrary, if a Master be proud, a bad Pay-master, & vnthankfull to his seruants, he shall neither haue truth, nor loue from them. They neither serue him with feare, nor entertaine him Bad Masters. with their loue. He is abhorred, hated, scorned, made a common by-word in the Market-place, in the streets, in the Tribunals, and euery publike Assem­bly, discredited by all men, and defended by none.

If Masters did but know, how much it did import them, to haue good and honest seruants, they would spare the meat out of their owne bellies, to bestow it vpon them; for they are true riches indeed; and hee that hath a good seruant, hath a great lewell. And it is impossible, that a seruant should be diligent, with that Master that is not louing vnto him.

There were brought to my Lord from Genoa certaine Boxes of Conserues, very great and large, they were richly gilded, and curiously wrought vpon the Guzmans other theft of Conserues, with the story thereof. top, as possibly could be desired, they were fresh and faire to looke to, as be­ing but newly finished; which Boxes vpon the way had taken a little wet. When they were brought before him, it did me good to looke vpon them, and the rather, for that they were made and sent him by a kins-woman of his, who did ordinarily vse to send him such kinde of dainties. I was not in the house when they came, and while I was lacking, they entred before my re­turne into a consultation, what they should doe with them, and how, and vvhere they were best to drie them, that they might haue a safe conduct from my person, that I might not seaze vpon them: And the rather, for they must be forced to lay them abroad in the Sunne, which would haue runne some danger, if they had clapt them vp close in that An Vrne is an earthen Pitche▪, wherein the Romanes in­closed as in a Coffin the Ashes of the dead. Urne, wherein Iulius Caesars ashes were put. Euery one broached his opinion, but not one good one amongst them all. My Lord himselfe lighted vpon one, and said; It mat­ters not much, to studie for a place, where to keepe them safe; if we giue the keeping of them to one, that will looke well vnto them, they will that way be safe, and no way else.

They did all allow of my Lords reason; And as soone as I came in, his Lordship call'd me vnto him, and said; Guzmanillo, what were we best to doe vvith these Conserues, vvhich are come thus vvet, that vve may preserue them from being spoyl'd? The best course (my Lord) said I, in my poore o­pinion, is to eate them presently.

And durst thou aduenture (quoth he) to eate them all? I answered; It were no great matter so to doe, if a man had time enough. But I am not so great a glutton, that now at this present I dare to venture alone vpon so great and honourable a Muster as is here made before me.

My pleasure then is (said he) that thou looke vnto them, and keepe a true reckning of them, laying them out euery day abroad in the Sunne. And here is no euasion for you, for they shall be deliuered vnto you by tale, and by tale I will looke you shall returne them vnto me. Here you see them layd open before you, and how faire and full they be; and if any harme come vnto them, or ought be missing, I shall easily know where the fault lies, and call you to account for it.

I told him, that I was neither master of my selfe, nor them: I knew not what to doe in this case, I was not mine owne man; I had not power ouer my selfe; and that I was one of Eue's sonnes; and that being put into such a Paradise of Conserues, the Serpent of the flesh might tempt me to eate of this forbid­den fruit.

[Page 244] His Lordship reply'd then againe, and told me; See (sirrah) that you looke well to your charge; for I will expect, that you giue them me, as I giue them you: I must not haue a piece missing, neither in number nor in weight, qua­litie for qualitie, quantitie for quantitie, all whole and sound, or else you shall see what will come of it, and therefore I would wish you to looke well what you doe, and to vse your best care.

I then made bold to tell him; The Plea (my Lord) that is betweene vs, de­pends not on this point; this is not the hinge, whereon it hangeth; For to returne them vnto you as they are, without finding any missing, or percei­uing any hurt they haue taken, that is a very easie thing, I can doe that pre­sently. But it is another point (my Lord) that I stand vpon. What point I pray (say's my Lord?) I told him; I put my selfe into great perill; for I am priuy to mine owne inclination and weaknesse, no man should better know mine owne abilitie and strength then my selfe, and therefore (to deale plaine­ly with your Lordship) if you will haue me to comply with your Lordships command, if my life lay on it, I shall not be able to hold my hands, I must needs taste of them, if not fill my belly.

My Lord maruelling much at me, Well (quoth he) seeing it will be no o­therwise, I will for once make tryall how discreetly you will behaue your selfe; I shall see by this, what manner of man you be. I giue thee therefore free liberty, that thou eate as much as thou hast a minde to for once, and no more, and that one time, I allow thee to fill thy belly as full as thou wilt thy selfe; but with this condition, that thou deliuer them vp afterwards vnto me, without any defect or fault; and in case the contrary shall appeare, thou shalt make me satisfaction in such payment, as I shall be pleased to appoint.

I accepted of the condition of this Obligation; and thereupon they were all deliuered vp into my hands.

The next day following, I layd them out in the Sunne, in an open walke, and amongst the rest of these sweet-meates, there was one of the flowers of Oranges and Limons, which offred it selfe to my view, it lookt very lo­uingly vpon me, as if it did desire to be better acquainted with me, and I who was loth to be behinde hand in matter of courtesie, made towards it, tooke it in my hand, & with a little knife that I had about me, loosening those little tacks with which it was fastened beneath, and heauing it vp daintily by degrees, till I had turn'd it vp-side downe, and that the lid lay downward, with that very knife, I tooke out almost the one halfe, from forth the bottome of it, returning to make it fast againe as before, putting in place of the Conserues so much waste Paper, cut out so iust to the same measure and proportion, that no man was able to perceiue it.

My Lord that night being minded to make a collation, I brought to his boord foure of the said Boxes, and asked him when I set them downe, whe­ther I had not looked well vnto them? He told me; if the rest be like vnto these, he was well contented with them. Whereupon I brought them all be­fore him, and he was very well pleased when he saw them, because they were much dryer then they were before, and better conditioned. With that I presently stept aside, to goe fetch a Plate, and on it I brought him all that I had stolne; for in very deed I had not tasted thereof the quantitie of a Nut, hauing only done it for the ostentation of my wit.

When he lookt vpon it, he ask't me; What's this? I told him; I now de­uide with your Lordship, part of my theft. He reply'd; I will'd thee, that thou shouldst fill thy selfe, and not filch: And therefore now you haue lost.

I answered, I haue neither fill'd my selfe with it, nor so much as tasted what it is, nor doe I thinke that I haue lost by doing of this; for this is that, wherewith I meane to fill my belly. Besides, all that was stolne out of the Box, is yet whole, and intire, as you may very well perceiue; but if, because [Page 245] I haue shew'd my selfe honest, I must suffer for it, which way shall I walke to goe right, if you barre me of the path wherein I ought to tread? My punish­ment does not trouble me, nor does it grieue me that I haue lost, as long as I am perswaded I haue wonne, howsoeuer I may be ouer-borne. But I will be wiser the nex [...]time, and be sure to lose no more vpon the like match.

Nay (Guzmanillo) bee not angry (said my Lord) I would not thou shouldst grieue or complaine for this, I confesse I haue done thee wrong, and haue blamed thee without a cause; but I prythee tell me (said hee) out of which of all these Boxes didst thou take this forth? I put forth my hand, and told him; This is it (my Lord) and I shew'd him how and which way I did it.

Hee was well pleased with the subtilnesse of my wit, but hee could haue wisht that I had not had so much finenesse in me, for he was afraid, lest one time or other, I would mis-imploy it to my greater hurt. Hee willed me to take the Boxe notwithstanding for my paines, and to carry it away with mee.

Many such things as these came from me; and he tooke pleasure both in them and me, as being sleights of the hand, vsing these iuggling trickes more for sport then harme. If any of my fellowes should chance to fall asleepe, when he should waite and giue attendance; they might the next day goe buy them new shooes and stockings, for The Spanish word is, Libra­miento de çe­ra. A Flye made of Waxe burning, which Pages put on the shooes of those that sleepe. Flyes of waxe were sure to be their Cocks to wake them. Our exercise, was euery day two houres in the mor­ning, and two in the Euening, to heare our Schoole-master reade vnto vs, of whom I learned (for the time that I studied there) the Latine tongue; which I had reasonably perfect, I had a little Greeke too, and some Hebrew. The rest of that vacant time, which wee had from seruing of our Master (which vvas, God knowes, very little) wee bestowd in reading of bookes, telling of tales, and in gaming. If we went forth a doores at any tine, it was only to coozen the What a Bun̄olero is, I haue margen­ted else-where. Guzmans ex­ercises being a Page. The distastes that Guzman had, whilest he was a Page. Bun̄oleros; and amongst the Cookes our credit was ve­ry good for Pye-meate. We would goe a-nights to play the waggs with the Curtizans, and to exercise our wits vpon them, and to sing songs at their doores. And thus did I spend my time, till my beard began to bud.

And howbeit it may seeme perhaps to thee, a life of entertainment; and full of mirth, yet it was to me as if I had beene ty'de to a stake, with a collar of iron about my necke, exposed to shame. All this was as a stinke in my nose; none of these things could content me; night and day I did sigh for the losse of my former delights.

But when I once began to write Man, and was able to girt a Sword to my side, I would haue beene glad of any augmentation of honour, whereby I might haue gained some hope to haue proceeded farther. And I verily per­swade my selfe, that if my Actions had deseru'd it, I should not haue wan­ted the meanes.

But in stead of getting iudgement, and doing things that were vertuous, for to gaine mens good wils, and thereby to binde them vnto me, I fell to ga­ming, Guzmans tricks at Prime­ra. euen to the losse of my cloathes from my blacke; and as I was some-what of the freest, so was I too liberall in my play.

I made it my study, to benefit my selfe by all tricks and cheating deuices, that I could inuent or learne; and especially when I plaid at Primera. How of­ten when I went vpon two Cards, would I take three, and conueying fiue now and then into my hand, would set vp my rest vpon the three best? How often would I take the last Card, and clapping it vnderneath, would see whe­ther it were good for me or no, and in an instant looke on the other already seene, and then make my best aduantage of them, which was all one, as if I should haue robb'd a man vpon the high-way? How often would I haue a The Spanish word is Diaco­no, which though it properly signifie a D [...], yet it is [...]ken more largely for any one that mi­nisters helpe to a man. Couarruuias verb. Diacono friend sit by me, which should seeme as if he were asleep, and should supply [Page 246] me with Cards vnder the boord to serue my turne? How often had I a Copes­mate that stood by, looking vpon the others games, who would tell mee what Cards they went vpon, and what their game was? all which he signified vnto me by such secret and cunning signes, that it was impossible for them to finde it out. How often would I so set and packe the Cards, that I vvould deale to him that playd against me two and fifty, and hauing an Ace to helpe me, would make my selfe fiue and fifty, or else with a fiue incounter foure and fifty, and so either winne the Game by one peepe, or by the elder hand?

Now when we were two against one, and plaid bootie, and dealt the Cards one to another, how often taking the discarding Card, and clapping it on the top, would we play on till we could make our aduantage of it? how by a beck or a nod, did we know how the world went? how to shuffle and mixe the Cards so, as to make our game sure? how to set some priuy marke or signe vp­on them, whereby to know them? how to know them by the corners, being bigger or lesse, and a thousand the like, which wee made good vse of either by the helpe of a stander by that shared with vs, or by corrupting him that sold the Cards, which are ordinarie things? O how many lewd prankes did I play in that kinde? how many rogueries? how many villanies? there was not that cheating or coozening tricke, which I was not acquainted withall and had at my fingers ends. And as I was perfect in the knowledge of them, so did I put them in practise when time serued. For such is the blindnesse of play, that those that are crafty and cunning in their gaming, haue a large field wherein to ex­patiate themselues, and to shew their skill.

And if it might be lawfull (I say, lawfull) that as in the Common-wealth, houses of sinne are permitted, for the auoiding of greater inconueniences; there were appointed in euery principall Citie or Towne, Masters of this coo­zening and cheating Science, of whom, those that are addicted and giuen to play, might be taught and instructed, it were very good for the auoiding of deceit, and many a Gentleman would not be so easily fool'd out of their mo­ney and meanes, as now they dayly are. For our Sensualitie suffers it selfe easi­ly to be ouer come by Vice, and that is turn'd to an ill habit, and becomes a bad custome in the end, which at first was inuented for a lawfull exercise, and to passe away the time. And with reason may it be called a bad custome, when it shall be disorderly followed, and that men are too much wedded to gaming, altering the true intent and meaning thereof, and putting it out of its right byas.

Gaming was first of all inuented for the recreation of mans minde, and Gaming, made onely for recrea­tion. for the refreshing of him himselfe, when he found himselfe wearied with the troubles and turmoyles which accompany this life; and when it breaketh this rule, and passeth beyond its due bounds, it is wickednesse, infamy, and theft. For it seldome hapneth, that it is not attended with these Attributes.

I speake of those that are profest Gamesters, who make their liuing of it, as a man would doe of an Office or a Trade, and make a continuall practise of it. Notwithstanding, I could heartily wish, and it is one of my most earnest desires, that those would leaue it off, and giue ouer this excesse of play, which are of the nobler sort, considering the hurt which may insue thereupon, espe­cially Gaming, to be shun'd by Noble­men and Gen­tlemen; and wherefore? seeing that ill is ballanced with good; and that if hee winne, and the o­ther lose, he is bound to giue the loser leaue to speake; to indure many bold and intemperate actions; to beare with many indiscreet both words and deeds, and other strange kinde of gestures, and vnciuill behauiour, which he is tyde to suffer, onely as he is a winner, not as he is a man of honour, who in things of another nature, will risent the least wrong that is done vnto him Other things there are of like qualitie with these, which I dare not pre­sume to presse any farther, that not onely for them, and those already mentio­ned, [Page 247] they ought to abhorre gaming, but euen those houses and Ordinaries, where Play is maintained.

But being that our appetite is so vnbridled, and our naturall inclination there-vnto so exorbitant, that it cannot in this kinde altogether containe it It is good to know play. And why? selfe, it shall not be amisse, but rather good and fitting, that a yong man should know the Lawes of play, learne the skill thereof, and vnderstand all the tricks, and cheatings that are vsed therein, that he may perceiue when he meets with a Cony-catcher. And if such cheating companions once begin to lose, and that their metall melts away from them, let him powre the rest of his owne mo­neys into his Bootes, Breeches, Hand-wrest, Collar, Girdle, Bosome, Sleeues, or any other part about him, whether he can cleanliest conuey it, that he may not lose his money like a beast. For besides the getting of it from him, they will laugh at him when they haue done. One thing I was euer carefull to ob­serue; I would neuer sit downe to play with a little money, nor for a little, nor with that man that would not aduenture to get much, playing my mony free­ly, without either offering, or taking of wrong.

Well, I was so wholly giuen to gaming, and spent so much time therein, that I committed many faults. Nor is it possible, that a Gamester should performe A Gamester can­not serue and at­tend his Master as he should. those duties which belong vnto him, much lesse he that serues, and is ty'de to attendance. Neither doe I know that Master that will giue bread to that ser­uant that is a Gamester. For if he manage his Masters affaires, and haue ei­ther moneys of his in his hands, or other his goods committed to his charge, and that he chance to lose his owne, hee will play then vpon his Masters purse, hoping to recouer himselfe; and if peraduenture hee continue still on the losing hand, and hath not afterwards wherewithall to pay, hee runnes himselfe into greater danger then before, thinking that lucke will turne, and so come to relieue his losses. But say, he is not trusted with any thing of his Masters, nor hath any thing of his to loose; yet is it not possible, that he should assist at those houres, when he ought to doe him seruice, nor will he be in the way to be found, when need shall require, as it hapned to my selfe.

My Lord was greiued thereat to the very soule, nothing could preuaile with me, neither admonitions, nor perswasions, nor words, nor promises, to re­moue The Cardinall shews himselfe a [...]d and louing Master. this euill custome from me. And being one day (in my absence) with his houshold-seruants about him, he told them, how well he wisht mee, and the great desire that he had of my good. And seeing that I could not be re­claimed by faire means, his purpose was by some one deuice or other to bring me to be a reformed man. And the plot was, that by discharging me from his seruice and putting me out of his house for some certaine dayes, it might be, that calling my lewd courses to minde, and seeing mine owne errours in the end, I might come to a truer feeling of my misery, and by that meanes bee drawne to amendment of life: yet would he not, that my allowance should be taken from me, lest for want of meanes, I might through necessitie be dri­uen to doe some dishonest act or other. O how singular a vertue was this in so great a Prince! how worthy of eternall praise, & how fit to be imitated by all those, that desire to be well and truely serued! And certainly, it is impossible, but that seruants (vnlesse they be such as I was) would be willing to lay down a thousand liues (if they were Masters of so many) to giue but any the least content to such kinde and louing Masters.

Well, I was driuen by this meanes to my shifts, and wanted meat to put in my mouth. O Lord, let it euer be in my Letany, that thou wilt deliuer mee Want of food causeth much euill. from this euill. Other wants haue some trouble with them. But when a man hath a good stomake, and wanteth meat, is extreme hungry, and hath not where-withall to fill his Maw; to see the houre of eating come, and he to re­maine fasting; to passe ouer the day from morning to night, and not to finde whereon to feed; these (I say) are such things, as would make a man doe any [Page 248] thing, be it neuer so dishonest; Cloakes, Hats, and all walke then, (though it be but for halfe they are worth, what shift so euer we make to come by other.

This miserie befell me, and that in a very troublesome time: For hauing spent a whole day and night in play, and hauing lost all the money that I had, Guzman playes away his cloaths. and when that was gone, all my cloathes, hauing nothing left me to couer my nakednesse, but a poore thin Doublet, and a paire of white linnen Drawers, when I saw my selfe in this poore taking, I retyred my selfe into my Cham­ber, not daring for shame to come abroad.

And albeit I would willingly haue faign'd my selfe sicke, I could not doe it; for my Lord was so carefull of his seruants health, and that they should haue all things necessarie and fitting for them, that hee would presently haue sent for Physicians to see what I ayled. Besides, I saw it was a needlesse remedy, to vse any such dissimulation; for by this time it had past from mouth to mouth, how, and in what case I was, and what was the cause of my griefe.

Now though that I had beene wanting so many dayes from the seruice of his Table, yet would he still aske and inquire what vvas become of me, and where I was that I did not wait? He could not indure Tale-carriers, nor such as would complaine of their fellowes, and make things worse then perhaps they were, by mis-reporting of them; he did hate it to the death, to haue his house, like your Lawyers Courts, full of clamours, and vntruths; and therefore that they might not grieue or disquiet him, they would mildly tell him: Hee is heere (Sir) about the house, I saw him but now, or some such like excusiue answere. But this would not serue the turne. For now he began shrewdly to suspect, lest some mis-fortune had befalne me. And therefore pressing them hard to acquaint him where I was, and how I spent my time, they were for­ced (for the giuing of his Lordship satisfaction) to deliuer vnto him the truth of the businesse.

This euill inclination of mine did much afflict his Lordship, when he saw how dissolutely, without either feare or shame, I proceeded on in my lewd courses. Wherevpon, to put his former proiect in practise, he gaue order that I should haue some new cloathes made me, and that then they should present­ly dismisse me, and rid me out of both his house and seruice, accordingly as he had formerly ordered the businesse.

So his Steward cloathed me, and then turn'd me out of doores. Which I tooke in that foule scorne (holding it as a due debt, that my Master was still Guzman hath new cloathes gi­uen him, and is turn'd out of doores. bound to keepe and maintaine me, and to beare with all faults) that in a kind of [...]ullen and dogged fashion, (shewing more stomake, then wit) I left the house, with a full resolution neuer, (come what would come) to returne thi­ther againe, of all other places in the world; notwithstanding that I had re­ceiued many messages from the Cardinall, at sundry times, and by seuerall messengers, with many goodly offers, and faire promises, deliuering vnto me the end why all this was done, and that there was no other drift in it in the world, saue onely what should make for mine owne good; thinking by this meanes, when I had champt a little vpon the bit, and tasted what hardnesse was, and knowne the losse of so good a Master, I would haue reform'd my manners, reclaim'd my selfe from my lewd courses, and proued afterwards a better seruant, then euer I had beene before. They also signified vnto me, how much his Lordship lou'd me, and what he had spoken of me in my ab­sence. But all would not doe; they could neuer get me backe againe. For I was stiffe and obstinate, and too foolishly selfe-will'd; thinking that I should reuenge my selfe in so doing; and so as I might spight them, I did not care Proud ignorance, and selfe-will, much hurteth yong men. how I sped my selfe. I brew'd ill, and bak't worse; I began in pride, and en­ded in folly. And what could follow thereupon but my miserie and ruine, seeing that I was vnthankfull for those fauours and benefits, which God had been pleased to bestow vpon me by the hands of that good and holy man my [Page 249] Master, who had iustly giuen me my doome, and pronounced this sentence of expulsion against me. For he that cannot be wonne with good workes, nor moued with faire and gentle words, it is pitie but he should smart for it, and that rigour and chastisement should worke that vpon him, which rewards and faire vsage, were not able to effect. I had now quite lost those little wits that I had, making little or no account of all these things, as if I had wanted nothing. How did I scorne and contemne those many good things that were done for me, without any why or wherefore, being things beyond the reach of my capacitie, vnbefitting my seruice, and altogether vnworthy of me by reason of my vnthankfulnesse? How vnwise was I in conseruing that present good, and in seeking to increase the hope of farther fauours, which vndoub­tedly I should haue futurely receiued, if I had but indeuoured to deserue them? How forgetfull was I of that kindenesse, wherewith I had beene cured? How vnmindefull of the care, that was taken about me? How vngratefull to that charity which was vsed towards me? How carelesse of that diligence, where­with I was taught? How stubbornly proud, against that mildenesse, where­with I was admonished? How peruerse, against those sweet words, where­with I was perswaded? How deafe against those graue yet louing tearmes, vvherewith I vvas reprehended? How surly against that patience, by vvhich I was supported? How incorrigible against that fauour, by vvhich I vvas defended? How rebellious against those meanes, vvhich vvere sought for my good? How vncapable of that good vsage, vvherewith I was trea­ted? How neglectfull in amending those faults, vvhich for my sake vvere so kindely dissembled? If any of those two, that tooke me for their sonne, had beene aliue, nay, if they vvere both now abiding here vpon earth, and might returne to their former prosperitie, they could not haue done more for me, or with more loue, or vvould haue borne halfe so much vvith my so many, and preiudiciall knauish prankes, vvhich I did so dayly, and so disorderly play, and vvith that liberty and freenesse, as if I had not beene in my Lords, or my Fathers house, but in mine owne. I vvas more bold in his presence, then I should haue beene amongst my equals, and he imitating God in the sweetnesse of his disposition, had the patience to beare with me.

Certaine I am, that he that begat me, vvould haue abandoned and abhor­red me, so vvearie vvould he haue growne of my ill gouernment. But my Lord vvas so good a man, that he vvas neuer vveary of me, neuer angry, ne­uer offended vvith me, and vvould not haue cast me off (had not I cast off my selfe) because he lou'd me.

O the noble and Princely condition of this worthy Prelate, giuen him by inheritance from that true Father of loue and goodnesse, that he could be so kinde-hearted, in doing still more and more good to such a one as I vvas! He looked still vvhen I should returne vnto him, he tarried for me, a day, a weeke a moneth, a yeere, nay many yeeres; in all which time, he vvas not vvanting to exercise his vvorkes of mercy towards me, to the end, that he might leaue me without excuse: And that touch't at last with shame of mine owne folly, I might pronounce that sentence against my selfe, which the heynousnesse of mine offences had deserued.

But I for all this followed mine owne humour, vvhich vvas the rule by which I directed all my actions: To all that vvas said vnto me, I put on Mer­chants Orejas de mer­cader. i. Deafe eares. A Prouerb. eares, vvas still deafe to all good counsell, appealing from good aduice, to mine owne flesh, vvhich being ready still at hand in fauour of my vices, I did vtterly vndoe my selfe, by following of her ill counsell. For to execute her suggestions, I had force enough; to seeke out occasions of sinne, abilitie sufficient; to perseuer in them, an vntyred constancie; and in not leauing them, a firmenesse not to be remoued. I was as vvell acquainted vvith all manner of Vice, as I vvas a stranger to all kinde of Vertue. And to lay the [Page 250] fault vpon Nature, I haue no reason for it in the world. For I had no lesse abi­litie for good, then inclination to euill. The fault was mine owne; for shee neuer did any thing out of reason. Shee was alwaies the Mistresse of truth and modestie; she was neuer defectiue in what was fitting, but as shee hath beene corrupted since through sinne; and mine were so many, that I pro­duced the cause of this bad effect, and became mine owne hangman.

CHAPTER X.

I Could not (as I told you before) iustly complaine; or finde fault with any body but my selfe, that my Lord had thus dismist me, and turn'd me out of seruice. For the very truth was, he made earnest sute (through the importunitie of his seruants, who were very instant with me) to haue me to come backe againe vnto him; but because my bloud (whose heat was not yet allay'd) still boyled in my brest, and was not come to its wonted coolenesse, I did ill consider mine owne good: or should rather haue sayd, That I did well, ill, in not considering my ill, well.

Being thus discarded, I wandred vp and downe at mine owne pleasure, (as my fancie did lead me) thorow the streetes of Rome. And because in my The conuersation of the wicked de­stroyeth the soule. prosperity, I had purchased some friends of mine owne profession, they see­ing me vn-prouided for, and that I went vp and downe like a Masterlesse­hound, here one would inuite me, and there another, howbeit it cost mee deare; for that meale that is made in ill company, though it giue nourishment to the body, yet it filleth the soule with ill humours, to its vtter ouerthrow and destruction. Nor did those good morsels so well satisfie hunger, as their ill counsell and lewd conuersation did vndoe me; Whereof nothing now re­maineth, but repentance. For I began then, (and neuer till then) to know in what danger I was, when I saw the water was come vp to my chinne, and ready to runne into my mouth.

Vices, come stealing in vpon a man, they enter with silence, they are a smooth still File, that cuts without any noyse; they are not heard, till they haue wrought mans ruine. They are as easie to be receiued, as they are hard to be reiected.

And such kinde of friends as these, are those Bellowes, which kindle that flame, which sets the whole soule on fire, and with a little sparke raiseth a great blaze. I might very well haue recouered my allowance, and had meate of mine owne to put in my mouth; for the Steward told me, that my Lord had giuen him order, that I should dayly come and fetch it, or send for it, as I would my selfe. But I was so obstinate, that I would none of it. For I was so lewdly giuen, that I had rather indure hunger with ill company, then feed vpon the best meat with honest and ciuill people. But they quickly payd me home, who first gaue me counsell to refuse my boord-wages, as I did, relying vpon them and their aduice; for they were soone weary of helping me any longer, and they did not only not relieue me, but because they would not doe it, they did shunne and auoyd me. So that I might starue for any succour that I was to looke for from them.

This same thing, called Hospitality, and entertaining of friends and guests, Touching Hospi­talitie. [Page 251] carries a kinde of mysterie with it; I euermore found in his mouth that inuiteth, honie, but in his hands gall; they promise liberally, but giue sparingly; they bid with ioy, but eate with sorrow. Hee that will bee another mans guest, must be content to be ordred, as he will haue him; be­sides, Guests, what manner of men they ought to be? he must be rich and well to passe, other-wise he shall not be welcome; he must not tread many steps in the house, his breech must scarce warme his Chayre, nor must he sit long at boord, for feare of being too troublesome. Doe not flatter thy selfe, that thou art liberally and freely welcome, because a man giues thee good words, and speakes kindely and louingly vnto thee, and tels thee thou art heartily welcome. For I haue euer obserued it as a true rule a­mongst other the Lawes of Hospitalitie, that a man may dyet with his kins­man The Lawes of Hospitalitie. a seuen-night, with his elder brother a moneth, with his friend a yeere, and with a bad Father all his life time.

The Father only is not weary perhaps of entertaining his sonne, but all the rest take dislike, if not a loathing of his company. If thou shalt stay with them beyond that time, they will hate thee to the death, and picke one quar­rell or other against thee; and if that will not serue the turne to set thee packing; they will put crooked Pinnes in thy Bread, or lay baytes to poyson thee, that they may once be rid of thee.

But admit, that thou art inuited by a married man, and that his wife bee close-fisted, a very Crib, her wealth her owne, and she somewhat proud and scornefull, say she be thy Mother, or thy Sister, in fine she is a woman, who for the most part are all of them greedy and couetous, so that they will whine for anger to see thee there, looke scuruily vpon thee, grudge thee thy meat; cha [...]e with her husband for bringing thee thither, curse both him and thee, and wish you both choakt. Better is a hard crust in thine owne house, then a Better is a little at home, then a great deale of good cheere a­broad. cram'd Capon in another mans. It is a miserable thing to set thy foot vnder another mans table.

My friends growing now weary of me, I needed not out of shame to leaue them; for they had already cast me off, streightning more and more their hand towards me, who were so farre from giuing me any thing, that now they could shamefully deny me without blushing. They needed no maske nor dis­guise for to dissemble the businesse. They could boldly bid me Goe by. I was therefore driuen to seeke out some Wall, where-against to leane, and betake my selfe to some Tree for shelter, vnder whose shadow I might quietly take my feeding. For I was now in that extreme want, that like the Prodigall sonne, I would willingly haue returned home, and beene content with all my heart to be one of the meanest mercenary seruants in my Lords house. But such was my misfortune, that he was now dead and gone.

Beaten with the rod of affliction, I began to be humbled, and was fully re­solued to turne ouer a new leafe, and betake my selfe to a better course of life: but it was all too late, I came a day after the faire; And fit it is, that he that will not when he may, when he would, he should haue nay.

And it stands with very good reason, Que pierda por el mal qu [...]rer, el bien poder. That throught the badnesse of will, we should lose the goodnesse of power. There went the distance of some two moneths betweene my good and bad fortune. And if I had beene a stay'd, and well-gouern'd Youth, as Want of patience, the cause of much euill. I had a running head, and a giddy braine, the least good that could haue be­falne me, would haue beene (though the meanest of his seruants) an honest prouision during my life, and might haue runne the venture of some better fortune. But seeing it fell out as it did, yet must we thanke God as well for the bad, as the good. I cannot say, that my malignant Starre was the cause thereof, but that mine owne euill inclination was the worker of my woe; For the starres non compellunt, sed inclinant, they incline, but not constraine. The Starres doe not inforce a man to this or that. They make men apt, but they doe not coact. Some ignorant fooles sticke [Page 252] not to say; O Sir, Destinie is not to be auoyded. That which shall be, shall be. And it is in vaine to striue against it. I tell thee (my friend) it is a vaine thing to say so; and thou doest not vnderstand the truth thereof aright; for there is no necessitie, that it is, or should be so; it is thou thy selfe, that mak'st it so to be.

In these Morall and outward things, thou hast a kinde of free-will confer­red vpon thee, whereby thou maist (if thou wilt) gouerne both thy selfe, and thy actions. Thy starre cannot constraine thee, nor all the heauens ioyned to­gether with all the force and power that they haue, cannot compell thee a­gainst thy will.

It is thou that forcest thy selfe to leaue what is good, and to apply thy selfe All euill that be­falls a man, is for the most part oc­casioned by him­selfe. Guzman serues the French Em­bassadour. to that which is euill, following thy dishonest desires, whence these thy crosses and calamities come vpon thee.

I was now entred into the seruice of the French Embassadour, with whom my Lord (who is now in glory) held strict amitie; who, in his life-time tooke likewise great pleasure in my witty iests, and merry conceits. He would faine haue had me serue him before, but he was loth to intertaine mee, lest it might be taken vnkindly to receiue another mans seruant, considering the good loue and friendship that was betweene them.

Well, I was now with him, and he vs'd me well, but with a different end. For my Lord directed his actions to the profit and benefit of my person, but Masters inter­taine their ser­uants for diuers ends. he onely for his owne priuate ends, and the pleasure which he tooke in my ierkes of wit, the merry tales that I would tell him, and the pleasing messages that I should bring him now and then, from those his Ladies and Mistresses to whom he made loue. He did settle me in no set place, or office about him; I was his seruant at large; and he as largely paid me. For either hee would giue me my paiment himselfe, or else I my selfe would take it in his presence, with some pleasant iest or other; or to speake more plainely, I was his chiefe Minion and Fauorite, though it pleased some to call me his Buffone & Iester.

When we had any guests (as we seldome or neuer wanted) wee were very complementall with them, and waited punctually vpon them, our eyes still Guests how to be attended on by those that wait at the table. Foolish and pre­sumptuous persons not to be obserued by those that attend. attending on theirs: but if they were either impudent, foolish, or troublesome guests, which came thither vnbidden, vpon such as these we would put a thou­sand iests. Some we would make to sit all dinner time without drinke, that you would haue thought, that they had been so many Melones sowne in a dry ground; to others we would giue very little, and that in pinching glasses; some had their Wine ouer-watered, other-some ouer-warme without any snow. When they were ready to eate their meat, we would take away their Plates from them, and set some salt-meats before them, ill seasoned, with a lit­tle oyle that was none of the best. We would dayly inuent new deuices, to abuse their palates, that they might take dislike, and come there no more.

It hapned once vpon a time, that an English-man claiming kindred of the Men of good and bad behauiour, to bee respected ac­cording as they are. A tale of an En­glishman. Embassador, and it being a common custome with him, to come dayly to our house, my Master grew weary of him; for (besides that hee was not his kins­man) he was neither Noble in his bloud, nor indued with good qualities, and aboueall, in his conuersation full of impertinencies, that it was a kind of cap­tiuitie, to keepe conuersation with him.

There are a certaine kinde of men, that a mans heart will rise against them, and grow into a dislike of them, though he neuer saw them before. And againe there are another sort of men, that will steale thereinto, and thrust themselues into our affection, and good liking, vpon the first sight, winning our good will from vs, and procuring our best wishes; this, either hatred, or loue, not being in the hands of the one, or the power of the other. But this was a meere lumpe of Lead, a man of no metall in the world, a dull and heauy piece of flesh, in a word a meere block-head.

[Page 253] One night, when they were newly set at supper, hee began to lay open his vanitie, with telling a thousand lyes one vpon the necke of another, where­with the Embassador was much offended, and not being able to suffer such a one, to goe on in his fooleries, he spake to me in Spanish, (which the other vnderstood not) and said vnto me, Would I could bee rid once of this foole; for I am as weary of him, as euer I can be. He did not speake this to a Dolt or an Asse: I had his meaning in the winde. Whereupon I tooke my friend to taske; I followed him with salt-meats, that were smart and sharpe, and left behinde them a kinde of tartnesse or tang vpon the tongue; wherewith be­ing bitten, he call'd for his coolers, which he tooke almost faster then I could fill them.

The wine that he gulped downe, was the gulph that swallowed him vp. The glasse vvas great, his draughts answerable, and those often, and this pow­der tooke so well, that at last he was powdred vvith a vvitnesse, and quite blowne vp▪

When I saw he had yeelded himselfe prisoner to his pots, and that hee was aboue one and thirty, being many peepes out, I tooke off one of my Garters, and knit a sliding knot vpon the instep of one of his feete, and fastened it vn­to the stoole whereon he sate. And when the Table vvas taken away, and that he offered to rise to take his leaue, and to goe home to his lodging, he vvas no sooner risen from his seat, but that he fell all along on the floore, his mouth, his teeth, and his nose being shrewdly hurt, the bloud gushing out amaine. So that when he vvas come to himselfe the next day, and saw in vvhat ill case he vvas, and how his face was batterd vvith the fall, for very shame hee vvould neuer more come neere the house.

This businesse was well carried, for it succeeded euen as I vvould haue it. But all darts doe not hit right; nor all Angle-rods strike sure. There are some A tale of a Spani­ard, who [...] Guzman, and shewes himselfe a [...] knaue, then hee. fishes that bite and carry away the bait with them, leauing the Angler delu­ded, and the Hooke empty, as it hapned vnto me vvith a Spanish Souldier, that was longer then the marke.

O the whoreson traytor; how crafty and subtill a Rogue hee was! how full of his cunning shifts! Hearken well I pray vnto that which passed be­tweene vs.

This wily rascall came into the house about noone, when the Embassador was ready to sit downe to dinner, and comming vnto him, he told his Lord­ship that he was a Souldier, and borne in Cordoua, and a principall Gentleman of that place, though now he were in want, and therefore besought him, that he would fauour him so farre forth, as that he might taste of his bounty. The Embassadour tooke out a little purse, wherein were some Crownes, and with­out offering to open it, hee gaue him both the Purse and the Gold that vvas within it, because he seemed to be the same, he had exprest himselfe to be.

But not contenting himselfe with this, he continued still with him, recoun­ting what he was, and the seruices wherein he had beene. And so running on from one thing to another, the Embassadour setting himselfe downe to din­ner, he makes me no more ado, but does the like. And pulling a stoole to him, sets himselfe cheeke by iole with his Lordship.

I was then gone to fetch in meat, when lo, by the vvay, I might perceiue two other Ier-Falcons like the former, which vvere newly entred within the Court; and vvhen they vnderstood, that this other was at dinner vvith my Court Ier-Falcons what they be. Lord, the one said to the other; As I am true Souldier, either the Diuell, or Sinne, hath clapt gyues vpon our legges; for this cheating Rascall still gets the start of vs, and winnes all that he playes for by the elder hand.

When I heard them thus mutter and maunder against him, I came vnto them, and askt them; Whether they knew that Gentleman vvithin, or no? One of them told me, I know that Tauerne-haunter, whose father hath many [Page 254] a time and oft pull'd on my Buskins in Cordoua, where hee keepes shop vnder the wall of the great Church.

This is our vnhappinesse, that if some twenty Gentlemen of vs goe for Italy, there returne a hundred such infamous fellowes as this is, that vvill e­quall themselues vvith the best, and boast themselues to be descended of the ancient Gothes: and vvhen they come where they are not knowne, they thinke that with the gumming of their Mouchatos, making them beare vp as stiffe as if they were starcht, and with the wagging of three or foure feathers in their Hat, they are growne into noblenesse of bloud, and pur­chased the name of Valour, beeing no better then notorious Cowards. For it is not Feathers, and starcht-beards that fight it out in the Field, but stout hearts, and men of stiffe courage. Come, let vs goe, I will make this effemi­nate Raskall next time I meet with him, leaue off comming in our quarter, and fyle himselfe in some other ranke.

With that they went their wayes, vvhilest I vvent considering vvith my selfe, what kinde of cattle these three were, that thus sought to grace and set forth themselues.

But I was some-what angry at those other two, taking them to bee but Braggadoccios, and meere puffes, as well for the vaunts they made of them­selues, as for the ill language they vs'd, in defaming him, vvho sought to ho­nour himselfe, without any cost or preiudice to others.

I vvas likewise not a little moued against this new-come guest for his bold and insolent carriage, who might very vvell haue contented himselfe vvith that vvhich was giuen him, and so gone his wayes, without being so impu­dent to sit downe at table in that swaggering and vnciuill fashion; I had a moneths minde to be at him, I long'd to breake one iest or other vpon him, and to put it so home, that he should not be able to auoid it; but thinking to goe forth to fetch Wooll, I was forced to come back with my fleece shorne, failing very much in this my intent and purpose. He intreated mee to giue him some drinke. I made as if I did not vnderstand him. He beckned vnto me with his hand. I drew neerer vnto him. He made me a third signe. I turn'd mine eyes another way, looking very demurely, and carrying with mee a so­ber and composed countenance, (though I had much a doo to forbeare laugh­ing.) He looking well vpon me, and perceiuing that I either plaid the foole, or the knaue with him, he would not speake, or becken any more vnto me, but turning himselfe towards the Embassador, he thus said vnto him:

Sir, I beseech your Lordship, that you will not thinke it ouer-boldnesse, or too much presumption in mee, that I haue offered (though vnbidden) to sit downe at your Lordships Table in regard of those many excuses which I can render to your Lordship, which may (if I haue offended therein, and broken the rule of good manners) plead some-what in my fauour.

First, the qualitie of my Person, and the noblenesse of my House, doth de­serue any common or ordinary courtesie.

Secondly, my being a Souldier, makes mee worthy of any Princes Table what-soeuer, because I haue purchased that honour by my Sword and pro­fession.

And lastly, I may adde there-vnto the necessitie I now am in, which is common to all, and may befall any man, as well as my selfe.

And I presume that your Lordship keepes this so free and honourable a Table for to relieue such as my selfe; and therefore conceiue, that your Lord­ship holds it not necessarie, that such Souldiers as my selfe, hauing any worth, or good parts in them, should expect to be inuited to your boord.

And therefore I shall desire your Lordship to be pleased to command one of your seruants to giue me some drinke; for being a Spaniard, I perceiue they doe not vnderstand me, though I haue often called for it.

[Page 255] My Lord there upon commanded vs to giue him drinke, so that I could not otherwise choose but doe as I was bid; yet I would haue sworne, hee should not haue thus gone away with the Bucklers.

Well, I brought him drinke, but in so poore and penurious a glasse, and mixed so much water with his Wine, that I left him in a manner as dry as hee was before. But because a little will serue a Spaniards turne, and that they are inured to suffer much hunger and thirst, with that little pittance, which was rather a drop, then a draught, he passed therewith as well as he could, till dinner was done.

We that were Pages, hauing conspired alltogether, not to looke him any more in the face while he was eating, lest he should speake againe vnto vs by signes, to giue him more drinke, and so binde vs to bring it vnto him. But he was an old beaten Souldier, and knew well how to vse the weapon of his wit, and being too hard for vs, did likewise beat vs from this ward, which we thought had beene too sure a one, to bee put from. For when hee had fill'd his belly, and well satisfied himselfe, and that the last course was serued in, And your Lordship will giue me leaue (quoth he) I will now goe drinke. And so rising vp from boord, remouing his stoole from him, he went to the Court-Cupboord, and taking from thence the biggest Glasse that was there, he powr'd forth as much Wine and Water as himselfe thought fit, and hauing quenched his thirst, putting off his hat, and making a legge to his Lordship, got him out of the roome, and so went his way without speaking any one word or other. My Lord was ready to burst with laughing, to see how hee had put me beside my tricke, and after that he had wondred awhile at the re­solution and boldnesse of this fellow, he said vnto me; Guzmanillo, this Soul­dier sauours somewhat of thee, and thy countrie, where all is carried away with Brauados, and an impudent kinde of behauiour.

Now, whilst we were talking at table of the libertie and free kinde of car­riage, which the Spaniards assume vnto themselues, there was newly come into the house a Gentleman of Naples, who had no sooner saluted my Lord, but he told him, that he was purposely come vnto his Lordship to acquaint him with one of the cruellest, and strangest accidents, that hath hapned in these our times, which now very lately fell out in Rome.

The Embassadour intreated him to relate it vnto him; And that I might the better heare it, I did deferre taking away, and brought him a Chayre, where­in, when he was set, he thus began to speake.

In this Citie, there dwelt a young Gentleman of the age of twenty or one A pitifull and la­mentable A [...]i­dent of two no­ble Louers in Rome. and twenty yeeres, more noble in bloud, then rich in wealth. He had a good­ly presence; he was vertuous, able, actiue, and in his owne person very va­liant. This Gentleman fell in loue with a Damsell, a young Gentlewoman here in Rome, about the age of seuenteene; being wonderfull both faire and honest; they were both equall in state and condition, but more in their good will and loue to each other. For if the one did loue, the other did burne. His name was Dorido, hers Clorinia. Her Parents bred her vp so retiredly, Dorido and Clorinia, a [...] of faithfull Louers. that they did not suffer her to treate or conuerse with any, from whence any danger might arise vnto her; neither did she so much as shew her selfe at the Window, and did seldome looke out, vnlesse it were by chance. For such was the excesse of her beauty, that it was able to be a loadstone, to draw all the youthfull Nobilitie of Rome to desire her loue. Her Parents, and one only brother that she had, were very iealous of her honour; insomuch that these two Louers could not inioy each other as they would.

True it is, that Clorinia, as one that was truly in loue, could by no meanes be hindred from shewing her selfe to Dorido, as oft as he past that way. For neere adioyning to her owne Window, there was another of a friend of hers; who (for that she was marryed) might with more liberty stand there, when [Page 256] she was disposed so to do. And for that she had acquainted her with her loue, as often as Dorido past that way, she would giue her some signe or token, thorow a little hole that they had made of purpose in a partition Wall that was be­tweene them, whereupon she would presently make haste to the Window to see him; And so receiued from her Louer that short, yet full content, which the couetousnesse and strictnesse of those times could afford.

This continued thus a good while: for other comfort had they none, then what they tooke in this fugitiue pleasure, seeing each other only in transitu, as he past along the street; which (like a shadow) was as soone gone, as seene. But Dorido, impatient of this poore content, and desirous to improue these fauours he receiued from her, sought meanes, how he might with more con­ueniencie inioy so sweet a sight, seeing he might not be permitted to proceed any further. Whereupon he began to enter into a strict league of amitie with her brother, whose name was Ualerio; into whose friendship he had wrought Valerio, bro­ther to Clori­nia. himselfe, with that fastnesse and feruour, that Ualerio could not liue without Dorido. Which was an occasion that moued him many times to carry him home with him to his house, wishing him to be Master thereof, and to make as bold therewith (if he wanted any thing) as if it were his owne, and to command it with the same freenesse. So that by this meanes, he had both li­berty and leisure to contemplate the diuine beautie of his dearest Loue.

With these baytes, their loues were led along, gaining still more ground, and gathering more strength vnto them, manifesting more and more their loues, by their lookes. But Clorinia being the weaker of the two, and perad­uenture more inflamed, opened her minde to a maide of hers called Scintila; who desirous to doe her Mistresse seruice, went to seeke out Dorido; whom when she had met with, she said thus vnto him. Scintila, Ser­uant to Clori­nia.

Dorido, it is bootlesse to dissemble the businesse any longer, it is now no time to hide thy selfe from me, for it is not vnknowne vnto me what good liking there is betwixt you and my Mistresse, and what good loue yee make each to other; And that you may see, that I doe not goe about to deceiue you, my Mistresse her selfe hath reuealed so much vnto me, intreating me, that I would be a meanes to lay open her heart vnto you, and to signifie vnto you, how much she loues you; and for farther declaration thereof, hath by mee sent you this greene silke Riband, as a hopefull token, desiring you for her sake, that you will honour her so much, as to weare it about your arme. I assure my selfe you are perswaded, that it comes recommended vnto you from her owne hand, for that your selfe haue seene it many a time hang in the dressing of her hayre. So that from hence-forward, you may rest confi­dent of my faithfulnesse towards you, so great is the desire that I haue to doe you seruice.

When Dorido heard this, it strooke amazement into him, neither did he seeme to like well of it, for that he had neuer any great good conceipt of this Wench, as being iealous of her discretion not holding her to be a fit instru­ment for a businesse of that great trust and consequence as this was; fearing lest their loues might, through her weaknesse, come to be discouered; But seeing there was no other remedie, and that it was Clorinias owne Act, and none of his, he dissembled his dislike, and in the best manner that he could, made shew vnto her, in how much he did esteeme this her loue and seruice; and how ready he would be vpon all occasions, to deserue this her free and voluntary offer.

Some few dayes being past, and Dorido's desire increasing to speake face to face with his Mistresse, and finding no meanes how to doe it, Loue, that can ouercome all difficulties, and make those things facill that seeme almost impossible, opened a way thereunto: shewing the meanes vnto him, where­by he might come to compasse his desire. There was fastened to the Wall of [Page 257] that house where Clorinia dwelt (which butted on the open street) a piece of an old Wall, whereof the one halfe was falne downe, and runne into decay, being scarce so high, as to reach vp to the Window belonging to the house, and a little beneath that, was a hole stopt vp with a moueable stone that might be taken out, and put in againe at pleasure. This did serue Clorinia sometimes in stead of a Lattice, viewing thorow it, (without being seene) those that did passe to and fro in the street.

This was well knowne to Dorido, for that he had often seene his Mistresse peeping out at that hole. This opportunitie seemed to be fauourable to his de­sire; whereupon he brake with Scintila, and intreated her, that she would stand his friend; telling her: Since (Scintila) my good fortune hath beene such, that I haue found you well affected to our Loues, and willing to plea­sure me all that you can, and to afford me your best furtherance therein; I will not refuse to put my selfe into your hands, assuring my selfe, that you wil alwayes and in all things haue that care, which the loue you beare to your Mi­stresse, and the desire you haue to doe me any courtesie, doth oblige you vn­to. You know, that since the time that I surrendred vp my soule to Clorinia, and put her into the possession of my heart, making her the true Lord and Owner both of it, and of my life, I haue got no other thing thereby, saue a correspondencie of affection expressed only by lookes, hauing as yet no other interpreters of our mindes, but the eyes, and all for lacke of better commo­ditie, and more fit and conuenient meanes. Which the more I am debarr'd Priuatio ge­nerat appeti­tum. of, the more it augmenteth my desire. For euermore priuation ingendreth appetite.

Now, there is a thing come into my head, how by your good helpe, my desire may rest honestly satisfied. You cannot but know the hole, that is vn­derneath the Window; this must be the place, and thou the instrument of my good fortune. Thou shalt speake vnto Clorinia, (intreating her as from me) that she will be pleased to correspond with me in this my iust request; and in case she should refuse, as not daring out of feare to venture so farre, thou mayst then labour to perswade with her, and so guide and rule her will, to be brought to yeeld to this so easie a condition; and that this night, seeing that the darknesse thereof is so much our friend, when all the people of the house shall be a bed and asleepe, she will be pleased but to speake with me at that hole. As for any other thing, I neither intreat it, nor pretend it.

This suite seemed to Scintila, very easie, and without any danger in the world; she puts him in good hope, promises him to sollicite it, till shee had effected it; she comply'de with her obligation, and pointed him the houre when he should come; giuing him a certaine signe, what he should doe, when he came to the Window.

Dorido, when night was come, disguising himselfe, went to the place ap­pointed, where he stood waiting for a good occasion.

When all those of the house were sure and safe enough, as sleepe could make them, Scintila went to the Window and opened it, taking occasion to throw out a little water. Which being seene by Dorido, who had got vpon the Wall, standing there to wayte a good houre, and knowing that it was Scintila, he said softly vnto her, Here I am. Shee willed him to stay awhile, and shutting the Window, in she goes.

Doridos heart in the meane while fell a leaping in his bosome, beating and thumping thereat as if it had sought to get out, being ready to burst with de­sire, inflamed with the fire of loue, fearefull of the various successe of things, lest some crosse accident might interpose it selfe betwixt him, and this his glory, whereunto he was now so neere, studying with himselfe what vvords he were best to vse vnto her, and in what kinde of phrase he should begin his Court-ship. His thoughts ranne through a thousand seuerall things, and his [Page 258] eyes were neuer off from that hole, looking as fa [...]e there-into, as that ill-pla­ced stone would permit him.

He might one while heare Clorinia talking with Scintila; another vvhile with her father and mother; now perceiue how shee rose from the place where she sate, and by and by againe past to and fro, one while to this, another to that side of the house, till that (her Parents being abed) I saw her approch­ing to the place appointed, whither she came so troubled, (such a conflict was there betwixt Loue, and Shame; Modestie, and Affection) that she was about to goe backe. But inforced there-vnto by Scintila, at last she came.

Now, when they were come to this inter-view, and saw themselues thus happily met together, Dorido was so transported therewith, that although he had premeditated before-hand what he would say vnto her, he was strucken quite dumbe, and had not a word to say. And she no lesse trembling, not ha­uing any by in that coniuncture, which might giue breath either to the one or the other, to bring them to pronounce but so much as one word either good, or bad; at last by little and little, when their frozen tongues had recouered a little warmth, they made a shift to exchange some few words on both sides, where-with they saluted each other.

Dorido intreated her hand and she willingly gaue it him; he tooke it, and kist it againe and againe blessing and stroking his face therewith neuer suffe­ring it to depart from his mouth. After he had thus taken his pleasure of her faire hand, he stretcht forth his to her, pleasing his touch with the delicate softnesse of her beautifull countenance, vnable to enioy any other pleasure, nor could that place and time affoord him any farther content.

In this sweet exchange of mutuall loue they intertained themselues a great while. And whilest their hands did speake, themselues were silent. For the talke of the one, did hinder the speech of the other. And because Scintila made haste to part them, for feare of being discouered, if they should dwell any longer vpon these complementall kindnesses, Dorido with many indearings of his loue, tooke leaue of his Clorinia, intreating her, that the next night fol­lowing, at the same houre, and the same place, he might enioy the same Re­galo, and sweet comfort againe. She promist him he should. And so for that time, they tool eleaue of each other, both of them remaining wonderfull well contented. But much more he, who was ready to leape out of his skinne for ioy. And wishing that night and the next day would post away apace, hee went home to his lodging.

Where offering to sit downe, he could not rest himselfe there; and seeking to case himselfe by rising vp, he sought some place where-against to leane; and when there likewise he could not be at quiet, hee romed vp and downe the roome, walking to and fro on the vnsteddy legges of Dis-rest, and Desire; so that nothing could giue him case and content.

Thus did he suffer, and thus weare out that wearisome time, till the night following, and the time appointed, whose minutes he measured out by those glasses which distinguish the houres, giuing himselfe ouer to this idle cu­riositie.

The houre being come, he went to the place appointed, expecting vvhen the signe should be giuen; he had placed himself▪ in the hollow nooke of an old gate, which ioyned to the wall neere vnto the window; and being about to get vp to the hole, hee saw two Gallants passe by, which were in loue with a couple of Gentlewomen in the same streete who walked there vp & down, giuing many a turne to and fro, waiting when the street should be cleere, that they might make benefit of the like occasion. They were Doridos very good friends, and were not ignorant that he was inamoured of Clorinia. They were well acquainted the one with the other. But because Dorido was some-what more reserued in the loue that he made to Clorinia, he would not discouer him­selfe [Page 259] vnto them, for feare of giuing suspition of that, which he was not yet Master of. And therefore whilest they continued walking there, he durst not mount the vvall, lest haply they might chance to see him. For albeit that the night was very darke, yet the bulke of his body might, like a confused lampe or masse, be discerned by those that walkt vp and downe in that still and prying fashion, though by those that walkt along the streets at large, and minding no such matters, it was not so easie to be perceiued. And therefore, because they should not know him, getting him thence, he remoued himselfe a little farther off, looking still when they would be gone, or else intertaine themselues in their owne standings, that he might betake himselfe to his.

But when he saw that they stayd there still, and that his houre vvas now come, he thought with himselfe, that if his Mistris should come, and not finde him there, not knowing the cause thereof, she might taxe him of too much carelesnesse; or accuse him of his lacke of loue.

This draue him, (holpen on by choller) into that desperation, that he was fully resolued to set vpon them, meaning to chase them away, if they did not make head against him; and if they did stand to it, and seeke to defend them­selues, then to kill them if he could. Which he might well haue done, as well in regard of the greatnesse of his strength and courage, as also for that he was euery way well prouided for them. Besides, that his anger, which had now set him all on a raging fire, (being the whetstone, that sets an edge on Fortitude) would haue added greater force to his Valour, especially when he should set vpon them (which is no small aduantage) vnawares.

But considering, not so much the perill of his owne person, as the present estate of his businesses that he had now in hand, that they might not be ouer-throwne by being ill managed, and by rash and inconsiderate courses, he paw­sed on the matter, and grew a little cooler, biting his lips, wringing his hands, casting his eyes vp to heauen, and beating the ground with his feet like a mad­man.

And when he perceiued, that the time was past, he was now as sad and me­lancholly, as the night before, he was merry and iocond.

The very next day after, these two Gentlemen went to looke out Dorido, whom they had no sooner met withall, but they told him; You know, Sir, that we two are your friends, and that we truely loue you; and being such, (as we vnfeignedly professe our selues to be) it is neither fit, nor iust, that vvee should conceale any thing from each other, but be free and open-hearted to one another: And it is likewise meet, (if you be the same to vs, as wee be to you) that you doe the like on your part, telling vs the truth of that which we shall aske you, if it be no way vnlawfull, or preiudiciall vnto you so to do.

Yesterday, some foure houres after night was in, we two, walking through our street (for so we may tearme it) in regard that both our hearts haue there their abode: seeking, I say, our aduenture at that time of night, we might per­ceiue a third man, which dogged vs all the way, following vs almost close at the heeles, scarce losing sight of vs all the while, so long as a man might say his Pater-noster.

We had a great desire to know who this should be, but we let him alone, because we would not cause any scandall. Wee could not so much as suspect, much lesse conceiue, who this should be, till we were afterwards certified (by that which succeeded) that you were the man. And the assurance that vvee had thereof, was; that we hauing staid awhile about your Mistresses window, we might heare it open, and perceiue Scintila put forth her head, who seeing our outward Bulkes, and not knowing who we were, spake in a low voice, and said:

Dorido, why do not you come vp? When we heard her say so out of an im­pertinent curiositie (relying on your friendship) I answered; Which way? [Page 260] This word was no sooner vttered, but without replying farther vnto me, she clapt to the window, and away she went. From whence we imagine you had made some set match, and because we would not hinder you of your purpose, we presently departed thence, and went to looke after you, but could not finde you. So that vvee could not till now acquaint you with what had past.

But because we desire to serue you, and that (by conseruing this good loue and friendship betweene vs) our particular pretensions may the better pro­ceed, without any hinderance or impediment each to other, let vs diuide the night betweene vs.

We will take our time from mid-night, till it be day, leauing the former part of the night free to you; and if you will exchange turnes with vs, liking, perhaps, better of ours, then your owne, be it as you please, and take which of the two you haue most minde to, for to vs it is indifferent, being all one in the reckning.

Dorido would faine haue dissembled the businesse with them; but finding himselfe by these pregnant proofes, and forcible reasons, too fast ty'de to get loose from them, he could not so shift them of. And therefore accepting their friendly offer, he made choise of the former part of the night, according to their owne agreement.

And with this plaine proceeding, he prosecuted his Visit the third night, though without hope of obtaining it, doubting shee would not doe him that fauour, in regard of that vnlucky accident that fell out the night before.

But for that Clorinia lou'd, (and that she truely lou'd) nothing could de­taine her from him, but with a great deale of care, was still inquiring, whe­ther her Gallant meant to come againe, to glad her heart with his cheerefull and comfortable lookes, being very inquisitiue to know what should bee the reason, that caused him so to faile the last night of his promise.

Now, whilst her Father and Mother were at supper, rising from the table, she went to the fore-said hole, which she might safely doe, for that the chim­ney, neere where-vnto they supt, stood on the one side of the Hall, (being a very large one) and the window where the hole vvas, on the other side, neere adioyning to the corner; in the midst whereof, were certaine things placed betweene, which did shadow and hinder the sight from the one side to the other. Her father and her mother sate so, that she might easily goe thither, and speake softly, without being heard of any.

The truth is, shee watcht an occasion (hauing well aduised with her selfe what might happen) to make quicke dispatch, and to rise from table as soone as possibly she could. Who came thither so opportunely, & in so good a time, that Dorido was there ready expecting her comming; for from out the street, he might heare the footing of certaine steps in the Hall, which was a sure signe vnto him, that those paces were troden by his Mistresse, so that he made all the haste he could to get vp to see her. And because this was the second time of their meeting, they were a little better flesh't, then they were before, & met not with those stoppages, which heretofore had hindred their speech. So that they now discoursed more boldly, and more freely, as farre forth as the time would giue them leaue, (which that night was but short, and in a manner stolne) and afterwards they tooke their leaues with a great deale of tender­nesse on either part, hauing agreed betweene themselues, that as long as the Moone vvas in her wane, they would inioy the fulnesse of their loues, which increased now apace, till some better meanes should be found for their freer accesse.

In this interim, a yong Gentleman, a very great friend of Doridos, called Horatio, fell in loue with Clorinia: He courted her, he seru'd her, and obseru'd her, as became a Louer, notwithstanding, that he knew, that shee was his [Page 261] friends Mistresse. But he knew withall, that hee did not treat with intent to take her to wife, but himselfe did.

Relying therefore vpon this their great friendship, the iustnesse of his re­quest, and the honesty of his cause, he intreated him of all loues, that he would desist from making loue to Clorinia, and giue way to him, seeing their endes were so different.

Horatio's affectionate words, and lawfull request, were of that power, and preuailed so much vvith Dorido, that he told him, that for his part he was vvell contented therewith, promising him, that if his Mistresse should so like of it, and that she could finde in her heart to fancy and affect him, hee would giue ouer his suite, leauing the field open vnto him to take his pleasure, with­out any contradiction in the world; and that he should rest himselfe assured, that he would no vvay stand in competition vvith him. For the better effect­ing vvhereof, he would doe two things: The one, to dis-deceiue Clorinia, by deliuering plainely vnto her, that by reason of a certaine Vow, that hee had made to himselfe, it was not in his power to be married vnto her, which he would not breake for all the world. The other; the better to make her forget him, he would goe about to make loue else-where. Yet, for that great friend­ship, that was betwixt himselfe, and Valerio, he must hold him excused, if he did not forbeare now and then to visit her, vvhich might turne much to his good, but no hurt at all; being that his true intent and purpose vvas, to fa­uour his pretension, vpon all occasions that should offer themselues vnto him.

Herewith Horatio rested content, and was wonderfull well satisfied, and gaue Dorido many thankes; not considering, that hauing left it to Clorinias choyse, and putting himselfe vpon her Election, till that he knew her minde, and had gained her good will, he had negotiated little, or nothing at all. And the offer made by Dorido, was vpon the confidence that he had, that to speake thereof vnto Clorinia, was no other, then the tearing of her heart from forth her brest. But Horatio carried away with vaine confidencies, and various hopes, intreated Dorido, that he would speake a good word for him. He pro­mised he would, that he might still maintaine his friendship with Horatio, and not giue any note or scandall to their loue.

To comply therefore with his promise, and to make good his owne offer, when he met with his Mistresse, he made a long discourse vnto her of all that had passed betweene them; Telling her, that if she could finde in her heart to loue Horatio, and be brought to settle her affection vpon him, God forbid that euer he should goe about to hinder so honourable an intent. But in case she could not, yet at least was she bound in thankfulnesse to accept of this his good will, by not shewing her selfe coy and strange vnto him; and if he past by the street where she was, shee should not scornfully shut the Window a­gainst him, and flie from his sight, and should shew him a cheerefull looke, though it were but feigned.

To this Clorinia answered betwixt anger and scorne, telling him; that hee should surcease, to lay any such command vpon her, and that he should speake no more thereof vnto her; for if for this cause, he should leaue and forsake her, she would rather be content to be hated and abhorred by him, then to wrong either him, or her selfe, by placing her loue else-where: Who as hee had beene the first, so he should be the last as long as she liu'd; which life of hers, she would presently sacrifice vnto him, for to take away all occasion from him of commanding her to loue another, or to forget him; as for the rest, he might doe as he saw cause, she would not hinder him, let him take what course it pleased him, so as it liked him, she would not stand against it.

Dorido tooke wonderfull contentment in hearing this answer come from her; for these words of her, were that true Chrisole wherein the Gold of [Page 262] their loues was refined, and that touchstone that tryde the purenesse of their affections, and gaue assurance that it was not counterfeit metall. So he trea­ted of this matter no more, but followed his wonted Visits both day and night, hauing first giuen an account to Horatio of what he had done. Hee would not beleeue it, yet waxed wondrous sad, when he heard it. But for all this, he did not leaue off to serue her, but could neuer finde her indisposition to doe him the least grace or fauour, but rather to vse him with all sharpnesse and rigour.

Whence it came to passe, that seeing himselfe disdained, and Dorido pre­ferred before him; furie prouoketh his patience, setting his heart on fire with an infernall rage; insomuch that his loue was now turned into hatred. And whereas before he was alwayes desirous to doe her seruice, from that time forward he laid waite to doe her a mischiefe, beating his braines, and bending all his wits and studie to worke her ouerthrow; or at least to put some foule disgrace vpon her. So that this Horatio, hauing dogg'd Dorido diuers times, till he had learned the houre, the place, and the meanes how he got vp vpon the Wall, and the manner of his carriage and fashion when he came to speake with her, and she with him.

One night amongst the rest, he did anticipate and preuent the comming of the true Louer, and feigning himselfe to be Dorido, he clambred vp to the place, and made a little noyse, by iogging the stone that was in the hole of the Wall, as he had obserued him to haue done the like diuers times heretofore. Now Clorinia taking notice of the signe, but not considering the great anti­cipation, and preuention of the time, came presently at this call, and taking out the stone, with many sweet and kinde words, she receiued this feigned Louer, who remained silent all this while, which louing language of hers, did but the more incourage Horatio in his intended treason; and putting his hand into the hole, tooke hold on Clorinias faire hand, and tooke it forth, feigning that he much desired to kisse the same. And holding her fast thereby with his left hand, and with his right, plucking out a sharpe Knife, which for that purpose h [...] bare about him, with little difficulty, but a great deale of impiety, he cut it off, and carryed it away with him, leauing this poore af­flicted Damsell lying in a swoune vpon the floore, by striuing to suppresse her sorrow, which she ought to haue vented with her voyce, and with her cryes and lamentations; but she did smother them, offring force as it were to this her womanly weaknesse; and did shut them vp close in her heart, and so of­fending the vitall spirits, she remained in a manner dead. And there questi­onlesse would she haue breathed her last, if she had not had present helpe; for her Father and her Mother missing her, and not seeing her in the roome where they were, they called vnto her, and because she returned no answer, they maruailing much thereat, went forth to seeke her: they found her wel­tering in her owne bloud vpon the ground, hard by that hole, which was left open in the Wall, and trickled downe with the bloud that came from her, which streames of bloud were as so many proofes and euidences of the cause of her death; for so they deem'd her to be, because they could not finde in her any signe of life.

Her sorrowfull Parents, seeing this cruell and dolefull spectacle, and the trunke of her arme without a hand, being vnable to bridle their griefe, fell downe in a swoune close by their vnfortunate Daughter, no lesse breathlesse then she was. But comming presently to themselues againe, they began with the greatest lamentations that were euer heard, to bewaile this so great a misfortune that had befalne them, being able to moue any other eye to pitie, and to powre forth teares in aboundance, to see so young and handsome a Gentlewoman so butcherly and so inhumanely abused. But in the midd'st of this their excessiue sorrow, they began to consider with themselues, that if [Page 263] the life of their Daughter should be lost, with it they should likewise lose their honour, which in their discretion, they held not fit to hazard together with her. They resolued therefore with themselues to keepe this deed secret, and so leauing off their lamenting, drying their eyes, and smothering their sighs, they likewise quieted those of the house, and bearing Clorinia from thence, after many remedies, which they applyed to her, they had some-what brought her to her selfe: Who, when she saw her selfe in the midst of her mournefull Parents, and in that pitifull manner, her sorrow redoubled vpon her, which receiuing increase from her shame, shee swouned anew. Wherewith her Parents griefe was a-fresh renewed in that terrible manner, as if their hearts had beene rent from their bodies by the roots. And with the tendrest and kindest words they could vse, they did seeke all they could to comfort her; speaking vnto her in the sweet and louing language of such a Father and Mother, that so dearely lou'd a Daughter, indeuouring by those soft and gentle phrases, to cure the wound of her minde, which was more then that of her body. With this, poore wretched Clorinia began to gather breath, and bewailing her misfortune (which till then she was not able to doe) she did moue the very stones to compassion, and to take pitie of this her wofull and miserable condition.

Then they presently began with great secresie to treate of her Cure. Va­lerio her brother went forth-with to fetch a Surgeon, a friend of his, of whose secresie he was confidently assured. The night was exceeding darke, and therefore he tooke a Lanthorne along with him; and as he was crossing the street, it was his hap to discry Dorido a farre off, who in a carelesse kinde of fashion was comming along the street, with purpose to goe see his Mi­stresse, being ignorant of what had passed. He began to call vnto him with a sad and mournfull voyce, and when he drew neere vnto him, with a heauy cheere hee sayd; O my true friend! Whither art thou going? Go­est thou peraduenture to condole with vs our great disaster, and that Tragick sorrow, which must shorten our life? Hast thou either seene, or heard of the like mis-hap vnto ours, and of the vnfortunate accident that hath befalne our dearest sister Clorinia? Woe is me; yet to thee, that art our true friend, I cannot conceale that, which we must hide from all the world besides. For I know assuredly, that thou wilt beare a part in our sorrow, and be a Compa­nion of these our miseries; nay I know thou wilt, as one of vs, vse all dili­gence in reuenging this wrong, and labour all thou canst to finde out him, that hath beene the cruell murtherer of my sister. Wilt thou Dorido? I am sure thou wilt.

Dorido, whilest he was hearing this sad storie, stood amazed like a man, that had beene bereft of his senses: And it was a wonder, that he was able to stand vpon his legs, being so word-strooken to the heart as he was, but recol­lecting himselfe by degrees, which was holpen on by the desire which he had to vnderstand how the world went, striuing to fortifie himselfe against this fierce assault, which had already shaken the very Walls of his hearr, with a troubled voyce he began to inquire what the matter was.

Ualerio, from point to point deliuered vnto him all the particulars, and told him that he was now going to call a Surgeon; intreating him, that he would goe along with him, fearing lest the life of Clorinia, through too much delay, might runne some hazard. Dorido accompanyed him; and albeit hee had more need of comfort himselfe, then to giue comfort vnto others, yet notwithstanding, framing himselfe thereunto as well as he could, at length he brake thus with him; Friend Ualerio, this dolefull misfortune of yours, and the lamentable case of your vnfortunate sister Clorinia, doth so neerely touch me, and workes that true sense of sorrow in me, that no lesse then to your selfe, they may giue me the Pésame: and come and condole with me this [Page 264] disastrous mischance, for I am so truly sensible thereof, that I dare a [...]ow, you haue no aduantage of me, nor can your sorrow exceed mine.

But seeing our griefe can doe vs but little good, and that it is to no end to weepe, and take on for that, vvhich cannot now be holpen; My aduice is, that you vvould consult what is to be done in this case; and if I may perswade, I would haue all diligence vsed for the finding out of that Traytor which hath done this villanous Act, to the end that vengeance and full reuenge may be taken of him, which was neuer yet executed vpon any other. This taske you shall put vpon me, I vvill take this charge to my selfe, and doubt not, but by one meanes or other I shall come to finde it out. Goe you, and call the Surge­on: For it is not fit, where so many things are to be done, we should be all bu­sied about one and the same thing, especially, that which belongs to my charge, being a businesse, which vvill require much labour. Let euery man take his Qu, and perfect his owne part. Follow you yours, and I will follow mine; and so farewell; for I haue not the patience to deferre it any longer. And so they parted.

Now Dorido had a strong beliefe, and did confidently assure himselfe, that Horatio, and none but Horatio, could be the author of so great wickednesse and falsehood, induced there-vnto by those many reasons, which did con­curre to confirme this perswasion, the least vvhereof vvas a manifest token, and apparant euidence, that it vvas onely his Act, and none but his. Where­vpon he resolued with himselfe, to inflict such a punishment vpon him, as should be equall to that his iust disdaine, and answerable to the heinousnesse of his offence.

With this determination he went home to his owne house; and being en­tred into his lodging, shutting the doore to him, he let loose the reines to his teares, grieuously lamenting this sad mischance that had thus vnhappily be­falne his Mistris.

O Clorinia (said he) the delight of my eyes, and the ioy of my heart, I see what harme thou hast suffered for my sake; I (vnfortunate I) was the cause thereof. It was that Traytor Horatio, that thus deceiu'd thee, whom thou supposedst to haue been beloued Dorido.

O vnhappy Mistris of my life, I haue brought thee to this miserable passe, it is I that haue kill'd thee, and no body else; for it was I that did disturbe thee of thy rest; it was I, that drew thee out from thy retyred and reserued course of life. O accursed chinke! O accursed eyes, that euer yee peep't thereinto! O accursed tongue, that madest the motion, that we should there meet, and talke together. O my deare Clorinia, Clorinia, my life; yet not my life, but my death: since that mine must follow thine: I was the cause of all this ill. Yet will I spare my selfe so much life, as to liue to reuenge this no­torious wrong; and liue thou too, Clorinia, till thou see the vengeance that shal be done vpon this Traytor, which shall be as exemplary, as iust: that it may re­maine as a memoriall to all succeeding Ages.

And I heere solemnely vow to sacrifice to thy sacred and innocent ashes, the impious bloud of this vile Traytor Horatio. For that one hand, which he hath taken from thee, I will giue thee two of his. Hee cut off one, that vvas innocent and harmelesse, and I will cut off two, that were wicked and sacrile­gious. Let Heauen lengthen thy life so long, till I effect this my purpose, and suffer thee to enioy that recompence, which I doe owe vnto thy loue.

And thou (sweet Clorinia) pardon so much of the fault, as was in me. And if my death will doe you any pleasure, or that it stand with your liking, mine owne hands ere this, should haue made vvay there-vnto, and laid it downe at your feet.

With these and other pittifull complaints, did he bewaile this heauy acci­dent, worthy of eternall teares; and surely sorrow would there and then haue [Page 265] made an end of him, so extremely had it seazed vpon him, and with that vio­lence of passion, if his afflicted soule had not beene vnder-propt vvith the desire of reuenge; and thus betweene death and life did hee spend that night.

The next day following he went to visit Clorinia; whither when he was come, her Parents, and her Brother began afresh to renew their teares, im­bracing and weeping one ouer another, till at last the father of Clorinia began, as well as his griefe would giue him leaue, to say; O sonne Dorido, what mis­fortune can be so great, so miserable as ours? What rigour of the heau'ns hath conspired against vs? What infernall fury euer inuented the like mischiefe? What thinkest thou of this sad chance? What deem'st thou of our honour? What cloake will couer so foule a spot? And what reuenge may mitigate so great a wrong as this? and giue satisfaction answerable to these our sorrows? Tell vs (I pray) what comfort can we looke for? Or how can we liue with­out her, who hath giuen vs life? Dorido, not being able to abstaine from teares, comforting her afflicted Parents, and Brother, told them: Wee are not now to spend the time in teares and lamentations, but in that which may im­port vs most.

And albeit, that which I am willing to propose, ought rather to proceed from any body else, then my selfe, yet the occasion, and the secresie wherewith it is fit it should be carried, obligeth me there-vnto:

You all know very well, and haue seene to your griefes, the generall mis­fortune that hath befalne vs all; being as well yours, as mine; and rather mine, then yours, for that your sorrow is ioyned vnto mine; which addition makes but the heape of mine owne the bigger. Besides, I see the thred of my life cut off before my face, that now I expect a death as bitter, as I thought it would haue beene pleasant vnto me, if it had made an end of me, before Clo­rinia. Ye are not ignorant what I am; and I likewise know your great worth and quality; which if it shall not ouer-sway mine, it is the singular loue and friendship ye haue borne me, that must equall the scales, laying an euerlasting obligation vpon me to deserue the same. This case then I make to be mine owne; I challenge it as a thing proper vnto me.

And that the world may so vnderstand it, and so take it, that which here­after I shal intreat you for by a third person, I will now demand of you by way of grace and request: Which is; That you will be pleased to giue me Clorinia to wife. Wherein ye shall doe these two things: First, ye shall thereby recouer your honour. Secondly, ye shall execute your reuenge by this hand of mine. If heauen shall be so propitious and fauourable vnto me to blesse me with her life, she shall liue and remaine with me, though not according as her worth deserueth, yet answerable to that desire which I haue to serue her; making that vp in my loue, which is wanting in my meanes. And if ought succeed hereafter in the righting of this wrong, it is fit the world should take no­tice, that her husband did that where-vnto he was obliged; and not Dorido, her parents friend. Make good therefore this my request, for the good which from thence may redound to vs all.

To the Parents, as also to the Brother, this did seeme to be a very iust and honest motion, and gaue him many thankes for this true testimony of his loue, both to them, and their house. But because there was one as yet vn-askt, which was to be a principall party in this busines, which was Clorinia, they would see if they could draw her to consent there-unto. Which when it was broken vn­to her, the teares gushed out of her eyes for very ioy, and she said vnto them:

This is that alone, which I hope, will keepe life in me: and if I should buy it at as deare a rate, as death, yet I should thinke it cheape inough, and that I had a good penny-worth of my bargaine. I trust in God that I shall liue con­tentedly, and dye comfortably. And therefore, I beseech you, that I may bee [Page 266] espoused to Dorido, according as he hath desired. Presently here-vpon they call'd him in, and (when they came to see each other) for a good while, they were neither of them able to speake a word, both their hearts were so full, and their soules so ouerwhelmed; hers with ioy, and his with griefe.

That fit ouer-past, they plighted their trothes, and were made man and wife, vsing those diligencies therein with the best secresie they could, till the time should come, that they might be openly espoused in the Church.

Three dayes were spent in this Solemnity, and with this content Clorinia seemed to be vpon the mending hand. But it was but a lightening before death: for through the store of bloud which she lost, she liu'd not long after. Dorido perceiuing, that it was impossible that his Spouse should escape with life, to the end that she might die fully contented and satisfied, (if there may be any such thing in death:) on the fourth day, holding it now a fit and con­uenient time, to put that in execution which he had deuised and plotted with himselfe, on the fifth he inuited Horatio to his house, as he had done at other times heretofore. Who trusting in the secresie wherewith he had commit­ted this foule offence, and that there was no talke thereof in the Towne, nor so much as a word spoken of it, went thither as securely and as boldly, as if he had done no such matter, and without any suspition or iealousie at all.

Dorido, to lull him the more asleepe, and to make him more secure, feigned, not to know of any such thing, he entertain'd him with a cheerefull looke, laught, and was merry with him, that growing thereby the more confident, he might the willinger accept of his inuitation. Dorido had put such a kinde of Confection into one of his Bottles of Wine, that it should cast him that drunke thereof, into a most deepe and profound sleepe. Which he secretly commanded he should be serued withall at the table, as oft as he call'd for any Wine. And as he had commanded, so was it ordred. And when he had euen now dined, the last morsell being scarce out of his mouth, he sate me in his Chayre like one that had beene dead.

Dorido, when he saw he was sure enough now in his hands, and that the Fowle could not escape the snare, binding his legges and armes as hard as he could for his life, to the legges and armes of the Chayre, and hauing made fast all the doores of his house, he put to his nose a kinde of little round ball (like a Pomander) made for that purpose, which he had no sooner smelt vnto, and taken the sent thereof vp into his head, but that he presently awaked from that deepe sleepe, wherein hee had before beene buryed. And finding himselfe bound in that fast manner, without being able to wag, he knew then that his punishment was at hand, for that hand which he had so cruelly cut off. Dorido was as quicke in cutting off both his hands, as he was nimble in vn-ioynting that of hers. That done, throwing a cord about his necke, ma­king vse of one of the corners of the Chayre, he gaue him the Garrote, where­with he was strangled to death. The next morning, before it was peepe of day, he droue him along before him in the Chayre vpon a Horse, till he came to the house, where Clorinia dwelt, and putting a piece of Timber Gibbet­wise, into that hole in the Wall, where he had committed this odious and vn-manly act, he left him there hanging with his hands ty'd about his necke in a string, (like a childes payre of Mi [...]ens.) and some Verses hanging at his Hempen chayne, to giue satisfaction to the world, vpon what reason this was done. And so Dorido, when he had thus reuenged himselfe vpon Hora­tio, left Rome, with purpose neuer to see it againe; thinking with himselfe, that without his Clorinia, neither Countrie, nor life, nor any thing else could be comfortable vnto him. And about the breake of day, when this spectacle began to be seene, and talkt of, Clorinia within a little after finished her life.

This lamentable Accident caused great both sorrow and admiration in the Embassadour. But his houre was come, that he must to the Palace, which [Page 267] made them breake off for that present, and to take their leaues. I thanke God a thousand times, that he made me not a Louer: And if I had not beene a Gamester, peraduenture I should haue done worse, as you shall see in the second part of my life, whereunto (if my first haue pleas'd thee) I inuite thee.

The Verses, which were hung about Horatios necke, turned into our vul­gar tongue, sound thus:

CHAP. I.

COME, let vs away. Thou hast now bayted and refresht thy selfe in thy Inne; Come, I Cūpany makes the way lesse tedious. say: Arise, and let vs be gone, if thou beest willing to haue my Company, and that I should doe thee seruice in this iourney; though there is another iourney that I must goe through with, for whose happy end I goe trauelling through these stony and de­sart places.

Through these craggy Rocks, and vn­euen The Author goes excusing himselfe. wayes, beset with Bushes and Bryers, I doubt not but I shall make this iourney seeme easie vnto thee, with that assured promise which I shal be able to make vnto thee, of bringing thee safe to the end of thy desire.

Pardon my bold proceeding, and taxe me not of inciuilitie, that I treat with thee in this manner; I confesse that I faile in that respect, which is due vnto such a one as thou art.

[Page 2] But consider, I pray', that what I say, it is not spoken to thee, but that thou should'st reprehend others, who perhaps haue as much need of re­proofe as my selfe.

I goe talking at randome, (like those that play at blind-man-buffe) and thou maist very vvell tell me, that my tongue runnes ryot, and that I talke like a foole, or a mad-man, because I shoot my bolts without feare or wit, and vnaduisedly throw the stone out of my hand, not knowing where it may light, or the harme it may doe.

But I shall answer this, with that which a foole once said, that fell a throwing of stones, who as oft as he threw, would cry out aloud, saying, Take heed, take heed, my Masters, for it cannot fall amisse; where-euer it light, it must needs hit right. So I likewise tell thee, Que como tengo las hechas, tengo so­spechas. Prouerb. That if I haue sate vpon any bodies skirts, or shall chance to sit closer vnto them, I haue reason to suspect, that they will pay me home if they can. For he that reprehends other mens faults, cannot but liue in feare of being Chi riprende l'altrui diffe­to, viue con sospetto. Prouerb. told his owne.

I imagine with my selfe, that all men are iust such as I am; weake, facill, and full of naturall passions; nay, sometimes strange and extrauagant hu­mours. But it were a thousand pities, that all Mal seria, si todos los Co­stales fuessen tales. Sacks should be alike. But being bad my selfe, I thinke no man good: such is my wretched condition, and of as many as beare the same minde. I conuert Violets into poyson; throw durt vpon Snow; and in my thought, trample the fresh and fra­grant Rose vnder my feete. It might in some sort haue beene happy for mee, that I had stayd when I was well, and had not gone on with this my discourse.

I know, that albeit I haue beene troublesome vnto thee, thou wilt hold me excused, and therefore I shall not need to craue thy pardon, and to begge thy good word and attention; the purchasing whereof, is that which I principally pretend: And albeit many, and peraduenture all those that haue tasted of the Apple, will deeme it to be impertinent and superfluous.

But mee thinkes it is not possible that it should bee so. For albeit I should be as bad as thou wouldst make me to be, or that I were such an ar­rant Asse and Coxe-combe, as you forsooth in your Idea would forme me to be; yet cannot I perswade my selfe, that thou hadst set thy figure right, or that thy iudgement were truely grounded. For no man thinkes himselfe to be the same man, that other men would make him to be; nor iudges him­selfe by anothers opinion. I thinke of my selfe, as thou thinkest of thy selfe. Euery man holds his owne fashion the best; his owne life, the vp­rightest; his owne cause, the iustest; his owne honour, the greatest; and his owne conceits, those that hit rightest. I tooke counsell of my pillow, it seeming vnto mee (which indeed is true) that a prudent consideration doth euermore beget happy euents; and that too much haste is the mother of various and vnfortunate issues; whose Handmaid is repentance. For doe you graunt but one absurditie, and a thousand will follow vpon it. And therefore, that the ends may not erre, (as too too vsually it hapneth,) it is fit, that wee make a faithfull examination of the principles; which being found out, and well chosen, they affoord vs that helpe, that wee may Principia pri­us quaerenda. boldly say, that the better halfe of the vvorke is already finished, reaching forth such a resplendour and fulnesse of light vnto vs, that afarre off, by naturall signes and tokens, they discouer those things vnto vs, which are like­ly to happen hereafter.

And howbeit in themselues, they are in substance small, yet in their vertue and operation, they are great, and are in a disposition to matters of much importance.

And therefore, when we will experiment them, we must propose all the [Page 3] difficulties, examining them with all diligence, seeking to draw all the good out of them that we can, and the soundest counsell; but when we are once resolued that they are actions of Prudence, and so generally taken and estee­med, they ought in all mens iudgements to be brauely followed, and put in execution: And by so much the more, by how much the more noble shall that enterprize be, which we pretend to vndertake.

And it is an imperfection, and a notable note of lightnesse, to enterprize To begin things, and not to goe thorow with them, argues lightnesse. Prouerb. How a good son in Law ought to carry himselfe to­wards his father in Law. those things▪ which we cannot effect, especially if they be not crost by some sudden and vnexpected accident, or some great impediment or other; for in their end, consisteth our glory.

My purpose only was (as I told thee before) to benefit thee, and to teach thee the way, how thou mightest with a great deale of content and safetie, passe thorow the gulph of that dangerous sea wherein thou saylest. The blowes I shall receiue, thou the good counsels; The hunger is mine, but the industry must be thine, that thou mayst not suffer hunger. I indure those af­fronts, from whence thy honour rises. And since thou hast heard it said, Que à que se te hizo rico, que te hizo el pico. That is, that he that made thee rich, made thee likewise to open thy beake, that thou mightest be ready to receiue a blessing.

And therefore thou must striue to imitate that discreet sonne in Law, who knowes by the sweetnesse of his behauiour and courteous carriage, how to gaine the good will of his hard-laced father in Law, and to draw him gently along, to pay his house-rent, to bestow vpon him his dyet, and his lodging, to put money in his Purse, and for an vp-shot, a faire wife in his bed; And these are those father in Lawes which (like slaues, and common iesters) breed, serue, and entertaine their children.

I am now imbark't, I haue set foot a Ship-boord, & I cannot goe backe. The Dice are throwne; my promise is past, and I cannot recall it. I haue begun, and I must goe on. The Subiect is meane and base; the beginning small; But that which I intend to treat of, if like the Oxe, thou wilt ruminate there­upon, and chew the Cud, suffring it to passe from thy stomacke to thy mouth, it may proue important, graue, and great. I will doe all that I can to satisfie thy desire; knowing▪ that I should haue rather giuen thee trouble, then con­tent, in vnfolding one part of my life, and hyding the other from thee.

I perswade my selfe, that many will, or haue already said it; Better had it beene, that God had neuer giuen it thee, and by consequence, that thou hadst neuer spoke of it; for being notoriously bad and wicked, it had beene better for thy selfe to haue smothered it; and for others, that they had not knowne it. Thou art farre wide of the truth; thou hast no good ground for that thou say'st: much lesse therefore can I be perswaded, that thou meanest well, or that thy drift herein is so faire and honest, as thou wouldst seeme to make shew of; But I am rather afraid, and doe shrewdly suspect, that because they touch thee to the quicke, the very wagging of the rod doth (though it ne're come neere thee) much affright thee; thine owne guiltines makes thee to shrinke; and it is the gall'd backe, that makes the Horse winse, before the Saddle touch him.

There is no Mens whip­ping of them­selues, is vs'd by religious persons, for to more fie the [...]sh, and in remembrance of those stripes, which our Saui­our suffered for vs. There are some that [...]sh themselues meerely out of Ostentation. These are fooles, and as abomina­ble as Baals Priests. The Pre­lates of the Church, and other secular Mogi­strates should take order to de­barie those to goe in Procession, that vse it so pro­phanely, and to punish them se­uerely, for [...]ose their ro [...] excesses, w [...]ch I am asham'd to speake of. an Germany, there was a Sect of Herelikes, called Flagel­lantes, that were notable Villaines, and Drunkards, and condemned for such. Vide Co­uarruuias. Verb. Dici­plinarse. L [...]es haue euer the best attention. Disciplinante that whips himselfe in the holy weeke, that doth at any time complaine of his owne lashing, nor doth halfe so much feele the smart of those stripes which he giues himselfe, as he doth the paine and anguish of anothers hand, when he comes to dresse and cure his wounds.

I either tell thee truthes or lyes. Not lyes. Would to God they were lyes. For I know, that out of thine owne naturall inclination, thou wouldst bee well content to heare them; nay, to play and champe vpon that bitt, it would make thee carry a white mouth, pleasing thy selfe with the some and froth of vntruthes. But I deliuer truths vnto thee; and these are as bitter [Page 4] Pils vnto thy Palate. Thou findest fault with them, because they lay open thy faults. Only displeased, because they please thee not. If thou finde thy selfe sound and in health, and thy neighbour sicke and weake; if the Lightning shall light vpon another mans house, and thine owne scape the flame, thou wouldst the better beare it, so as thou be left vntoucht, no morsell is vnsauo­ry to thy mouth, all is Phesant and Partridge, and I shall be well receiued, and kindely entertained by thee. But that thou mayst not (like the Eele) slip out of my hands, I will seeke out some Fig-leaues against these your slippery tricks, I will hold you fast while I haue you; you shall not for this once, so easily (as you thinke) escape my hands.

I tell thee, (if thou art willing to heare me, if thou wilt not, thou mayst choose) that this generall confession that I make; this publike opening of my Packe, laying before thee all my Knacks, and my Trinkets; I doe not therefore shew these things vnto thee, that thou shouldst either imitate me, or my euill actions; but rather, that (when thou shalt come to know them) thou mayst learne thereby to correct thine owne. If thou seest me falne, be­cause I was wilfull, and would not be ordred; looke thou so well to thy steps, that thou mayst hate and auoyd those occasions, that wrought my Take the good, and leaue the bad. fall. Set not thy foot, where thou hast seene me slip before thee; but let my trippings and my stumblings, serue as so many markes to make thee more wary. For thou art a man, mortall as I am, and peraduenture neither stron­ger, nor wiser then my selfe.

Looke well into thy selfe; runne ouer very leisurely and carefully, the house Looke well into thy selfe, and let others alone. of thy Soule, and see if thou haue not made there, euen in the greater and better part of it, Dung-hils of filth, and all manner of beastlinesse; and doe not sift and prie so narrowly into thy neighbours, to see if thou canst finde but the feather of some bird at the foot of the Stayres, whereat thou mayst picke a quarrell.

But heere I know thou wilt tell me, that I preach vnto thee, and that hee is a foole, that will seeke his cure, from a sicke Physician. And that hee that Medice, cura teipsum. cannot helpe himselfe, can hardly giue health to others.

What wholsome Medicine, or good Cordiall, can a man haue from a Vi­pers tooth, or the sting of a Scorpion? How shall he, that is ill himselfe, ad­uise another not to be ill? I doe not denie, that I am such a one as thou sayst: But that will befall me with thee, which betideth some nimble and cunning Caruer at his Lords table, who curiously cutteth vp the Brawne, the wing, or the legge of some dainty Fowle, and hauing respect to the qualitie of the Guests, whom he is to serue, giues euery man his seuerall Plate, studying to please and content them all; They all eate, all rest satisfied and well conten­ted, whilest he himselfe goes away both weary and hungry.

At mine owne cost and paines, I discouer shelfes, quick-sands, and dange­rous rockes vnto thee, to the end that thou mayst not fall vpon them, and dash thy selfe in pieces against them, or runne thy selfe on ground, where there is neuer any hope of comming off.

Your Arsenicke is not altogether vnprofitable, but that it will serue for some good vse or other; it is worth money, and it is sold in Apothecaries shops. And though it be bad to eate, as it may be applyed, it will proue good. In a word, with it those Wormes and Vermine are poysoned, which bring hurt and preiudice to mans body.

My example might serue as Treacle to a Common-wealth, if these fierce beasts that gouerne it were poysoned; not excusing house-keepers, though The hurt which ill gouernment, [...]ses in great mens houses. neuer so much in apparance, seeming familiar and friendly vnto vs, as being one of the worst qualities that they haue. For, figuring forth our selues vnto them, to be men of flesh and bloud, kinde-hearted, and subiect vnto passions, wee deposit our secrets in their bosomes, and trust them with all that [Page 5] we haue, as relying on their saith and their loue, and they cunningly shed Tricks of Court­ship. seigned teares in a seeming commiseration of our miseries, when in the meane while not-withstanding, they rend our flesh, & teare our very sinewes from the bone with their tyrannies, iniuries, and violencies.

O that it were in my power to consume and destroy another sort of cruell beastes, as those that looke bigge, and grow proud of their ease and plenty, goe vaunting and boasting of their valour, tearing vp the stones in the streets, world-wandrers, Vagabonds from Countrie to Countrie, from Parish to Parish, and from house to house, making them-selues skimmers of other mens pottes, being no way of any profit, or seruing for any other vse, then the Porters in the Al [...]ondiga is a house appoin­ted for Country people, to bring their corne into the Citie, and there to lay it vp. It signifieth also a Ware house for merchandize, where some bring in, and some car­ry out. Vid. Co­uarru. pag. 48. Alhondiga of Seuilla, to lay in one burthen, and to take out another; venting lyes in one place, and taking them vp in another, carrying newes to and fro, reporting those things, that he ought to haue silenced, being trusted therewith, and will'd to be secret, vttering them in preiudice of the person to whom he reuealeth them, who cannot but take it ill; maliciously causing differences, and relating things worse then they were meant; bearers of false witnesse, raysers of dissension, robbers of mens honours, defaming the good, persecuting the iust, stripping men of their wealth, and murthering and martyrizing the innocent. It were a pleasing sight to see all such perish, and to be made a publike spectacle to the world. Nor is there in all Bruxels any such goodly hangings, that doe either so much adorne, or halfe so well become any Noble mans house, as these would the Common-wealth, if they were hung vp one after another by the Com­mon Hang-man.

For, it is very fit, that there should be Poena & praemium; A punishment and a reward. For if all were good and honest, Lawes had beene superfluous Lawes were made for the wicked. and impertinent. And if all men should haue beene wise, Writers had beene fooles. Phisicke was made for the sicke; Honours for the vertuous; and the Gallowes for lewd liuers. And because I likewise know, that Vice is so powerfull, for that it rises out of a desire of libertie, without acknowledge­ment of any Superiour either humane or diuine, I am much afraid, that these my written labours, and my many indured misfortunes, will not be of force to bridle thy vnruly appetites, and to bring forth that good fruit which I could wish; Holding that paines vaine and fruitlesse, which is vndertaken When a mans la­bour is lost. vpon any respect whatsoeuer, if it doth not in that it pretendeth, obtaine it's desired end. But because that the Rhethorician doth not alwaies perswade; nor the Physician cure; nor the Pilot arriue safely at his Port; I must toge­ther with them comfort my selfe, in that I haue performed my dutie, by gi­uing thee good counsell, and by affording thee light, being therein like the Flint, which being strooken, giues fire to others, to bee kindled in this or that place, though it selfe remaine without: In like manner, the lewd liuer loseth his life, receiueth punishment, and indureth affronts, making himselfe an example to all those that shall looke vpon him.

But here I will betake me to that way, which presents it selfe vnto mee in this place; Imitating therein your rude Clownes, as also your nice Courtiers, who passing along by the Roperia. i. Locus Vesti­mentarius. Roperia (which is a publike place where all sorts of cloathes are to bee sold;) if by chance they lift vp their eyes, and looke vpon them, those Merchants that sell these commodities, (like your Birchen-Lane men) fall presently a balling and plying of them; one drawes him this way, another that, and keepe such a calling, and such a tug­ging of them, that they know not well which way to turne or winde them­selues, they are so distracted by them.

For they hauing an opinion (if not a thorow'perswasion) that they doe all deceiue, all coozen, and lye, they goe warily to worke, when they buy any wares of them; & I well wot the cause why, which I need not to tell you, The [...]ery of so [...] Tredes-men. [Page 6] because that which they sell, will speake it out alowd, without any other bo­dies helpe.

Well, let vs now giue them way, and suffer them to passe by, if for no other reason, at least for those fauours and courtesies which I haue had from Receiuers of stoln goods. them, in the buying of things that were neuer bought, giuing me good mo­ney for that which I brought, and sold vnto them; and for teaching mee from ouer-night against the next morning, how to make Cassocks of Cloakes, selling them the shreds for to foot Stockins, and to make soles to keepe the feet warme, and free from wet.

Or shall I here tell thee, that the same is like to befall me, which vsually happens to the carelesse traueller; who not knowing the way, goes from The case of a carelesse tra­ueller. home, neuer inquiring how he may hit it, which hand to take, or what tur­nings to make; so that when hee hath gone some halfe league on his iour­ney, he chanceth to come to the foot of a Crosse, where he meetes with three or foure seuerall wayes; and straining himselfe vpon his stirrops, wri­thing his body, he turnes his head about, to see if he can espy any body, that is able to direct him in his way?

But seeing none there at hand, he fals to a Cosmographicall conside­ration with himselfe, choosing either this, or that, which shall seeme likeliest vnto him, to leade directly towards that place, whither hee in­tended his iourney.

I see heere present before me so many diuers dispositions, and such vari­ous and sundry sorts of tasks, all of them hanging about mee, euery one striuing to hale and pull mee as it were by force, to come into their shop. But God he knowes, why, and wherefore they doe it.

One would haue sweet and pleasant things; another, those that are tart and sowre; this man will haue his Oliues fryde; that will no salt, no not The diuers gusts and palates of men. with an Egge.

And if one man haue a minde to eate the legge of a The Spanish word, is pie de la perdis, but the other fits better with our phrase of [...]peach. Larke rosted in the snuffe of a Candle, another would not be wanting, who shall make no bones to tell they, that of all the pulse and rootes that God made, there was neuer any yet that could compare and come neere to the Radish for goodnesse.

The truth whereof vvas to bee seene in a certaine Papelistas; Los que son dados à en­tender en papeles. Couarruuias. A short tale of a couetous Spa­niard. Papelisticall Mini­ster, a kinde of Officer (as I may so tearme him) betwixt a Clerke and a Scriuener that is conuersant in Paper-businesses; a fellow wonderfull ill be­lou'd, a notorious lyer, and aboue all, extremely couetous; who remo­uing from one house to another, after that he had carried his houshold-stuffe, and other old moueables belonging there-vnto, he stayd there behinde alone by himselfe, searching and prying very diligently into euery nooke and corner thereof, rifling and ransaking it from the floore to the roofe, not so much as leauing a nayle to the walles, for to hang a Hat on, or the like ne­cessary vse.

At last, it was his hap to come into the Kitchen, where hee lighted vpon an odde hole in the chimney, wherein were three or foure Radishes, which had lyen there a long time, being dry, tough, withered, and good for no­thing. These hee charily tyes vp in one bunch, and very carefully brings them home to his Wife, and with a Black-Smithes face, looking frowning­ly vpon her, he said vnto her; Is this your good hous-wifery, this your care of my house and goods, to let things runne to spoyle? Is money so easily come by (thinke you) that you make no more reckning of sauing a penny? But as you brought me nothing in Dowry, so you care not (it seemes) which end goes forward; sinke, or swimme, all's one to you. See you this waste of yours? Looke I pray vpon these Radishes, they cost money I can tell you. You haue done well, haue you not, to looke no better vnto them? Keepe them I pray against I call for them. I thinke there is not a more wastefull wo­man [Page 7] in the world; but I am the worse of the two, and may thanke my selfe, that I would be such an vnthrift as to bring a whole bunch into the house at once, when as fewer would haue seru'd the turne.

His wife laid them vp safe, as he had willed her, and that very night (that they might not fall out any more about them) the crafty Hileding, very de­murely and with a sober countenance, without any the least shew of chol­ler, or dislike, sets them downe before him, when hee was sitting downe to supper, vvho falling earnestly vnto them, spake to his Wife, and said:

Now in troth (Wench) I sweare vnto thee, there is no meat in the world can rellish better, or hath halfe so good a sauour and taste with it, as an old Radish. I protest vnto thee, I like them better a thousand times, being thus lyther, and withered as you see, then when they are fresh and cripsie. I prethee Wife proue one of them, and then tell me if it bee not as I say.

The poore woman had as little fancie to make tryall thereof, as shee had faith to beleeue it; but my Spaniard (carrying as they doe all a kinde of high The Spaniard ge­nerally carries a great command ouer his Wife. hand ouer their wiues) forcing her in a manner there-vnto, by his sterne both lookes and words, made her to eate one sore against her will, and much against her stomake.

There are a certaine kinde of men, which are not contented onely to commend that, which they themselues like, (be it what it will) but they The capri [...]ious humours of some extrauagant persons. will (and are angry and offended if it bee otherwise) that others doe the same, pressing them, as it were, to follow their humour, and contrarie to their owne will, seeme to approue it, at least not sticke to praise it.

And there are likewise another sort of people, which discommend other mens tastes; not considering, that de gustibus non est disputandum, for that they are diuers and various, as are the conditions and countenances of men.

For though peraduenture two may bee found, that may resemble one another, yet it is impossible that they should be so like, that you may not perceiue some difference. And therefore I must be driuen to doe that heere, which was my hap once to doe at a Comedy; where, for that I was one of the first, it was my fortune to be one of the formost before the Stage. Writers, where­vnto they are likened.

Now those that came after, being nothing so well fitted, spake vnto me, that I would leane a little on t'one side. I did so; but in this my mouing some-what aside, others thought much of it, complaining that I hindred their sight; for whom likewise to giue them content, I was forced to shift a foote. So that, both the one and the other, made me to stand where they would haue me. For they were all willing to see. Insomuch, that not know­ing how to accommodate my selfe for pleasuring of them, I put on Mer­chants eares, not vouchsafing to giue them the hearing: and standing stiffe­ly Prouerb. on my right legge, gaue them leaue to shift for themselues, to heare, and see, as well as they could.

The Melancholly man, the Sanguine, the Chollericke, the Flegmaticke, the Ciuill, the Swaggerer, the Rhetorician, the Philosopher, the Religious, No writer can please all. the Reprobate, the Courtier, the Clowne, the rude, the Discreet, nay, euen my Lady Ninny-hammer would that I should onely write for her pleasure, words finely pleyted, and curiously folded, and that I should apply my selfe to her conceit, and conforme my selfe according to her stile, making her Mi­stresse both of my pate and Pen.

It is not possible for me to second so many humours, and to satisfie such different desires: For then had I need (besides the making for euery parti­cular man his seuerall Booke,) to liue so many mens liues, as there are sun­dry The Author ap­proueth this to be his true Second Part. opinions.

I haue liu'd but one onely; and that which they would falsely intitle mee [Page 8] withall, is a testimonie against some, of the great wrong they haue done me therein.

My true life, I shall onely set it downe my selfe. I will goe prosecuting of that, though they goe persecuting of me. For there will not another (a) Gill Prou. Nunca falta vn Gil, que no [...] persigua. Dando à en­tender, que aunque desista vn emulo no falta otro que se substituya ensu lugar. No sooner one corriuall gone, but another comes in his place. The Authors end and purpose. be wanting for the third Part, to come forth against mee, as in the Second; and charge me with that, which I neuer either did, said, or thought.

That, which I intreat at thy hands, is; That thou wilt neither feare mee so much, nor be angry with me in so high a measure, that (I know not out of what humour) thou should'st wish me hang'd; for I finde not my selfe fit for it at this time, neither indeed doe I deserue it. Suffer mee therefore to liue, since it hath pleased God to giue mee life, that I might correct my er­rours; and time, that I may amend my faults.

For my punishments, and my mis-fortunes, if thou wilt truely informe thy selfe of them, will serue thee in stead of a Looking-glasse, whereby thou may'st see how to linke a little better together the past, and the present, with that which is to come in the third Part; to the end, that thou making it all one continued piece of worke, weauing it well and handsomely, run­ning along in euen threds, thou maist the better (which is no more then be­comes thee) be instructed in the truth of things.

And this is that marke, whereat I haue aymed, and the white, which I seeke to hit. Nor am I dainty in discouering my conceits, to those that will bee pleased to saue mee this labour: yet, let it bee so carried, that they may boast them of that's their owne. For I hold it as a thing vndecent, and vn­seemely, for a man to deny his owne name, and to put forth his workes vn­der that of another, which hath, and shall vpon the like occasion, oblige mee at any time, to write so much againe as this, that I may not beetaken for a Foole, by taking vpon mee other mens ouer-sights. But let this rest, lest I might seeme to some, to speake more out of passion, then reason; though the iudicious (I am perswaded) will excuse this my iust complaint, and not thinke it in this place to be impertinent to the purpose.

But to returne againe into the way, whence we haue stept a little aside, I say; That I would haue euery man to make choyse of his owne Plate, and Of the order and end of this Booke: And wherevnto it is likened. to fall to that dish (amongst those many, that we shall serue into this boord) which hee hath most minde vnto; Leauing that vnto others, vvhich shall not please his palate, or not agree with his stomake. Nor would I haue my guests to thinke, that this booke of mine should bee like vnto Heliogabalus his banquet, whose boord was furnished with many and sundry sorts of meates, yet all of them only seruing for the food & sustenance of man, whether they vvere Peacocks, Chickens, Phesants, wilde Boare, Fish, Milke, Sallets, or Conserues, it was one onely kinde of Vyand, but like Manna, differenced by mens seuerall tasts; howbeit those of Manna, were as euery man would haue them to rellish as himselfe desired; but these other, according as the Cooke was willing to season them, seeking therein to please the filthy luxurious throat of his Master. With varietie, nature is adorned; this is that, that beautifies the Fields, to see heere Hils, there Vallies; in this place Brookes and Riuers; in that Fountaines sprinkling and sparkling forth their pearled drops.

Let not men be so couetously minded, as to desire to haue all to themselues. I haue seene the bestowing of many Liueries in my life-time, and the little Page, (I haue perceiued) was as well contented with his, though it vvere not so full of Silke, as the tallest man, that had twice as much as he, in re­gard of the largenesse of his stature. I am resolued to follow that path, that shall seeme best vnto me, for the more direct bringing of me to the end of my desire, and to that place, whereunto I intend my iourney. And thou (my dis­creet Host) who stay'st looking for me, since thou doest so well vnderstand [Page 9] and know the miseries, that he suffers and indures, who (like my selfe) goes trauelling abroad to see the world; doe not looke scornefully vpon me, when thou shalt meet with me in thine owne Countrie, and though I come to thy Gate like a Rogue, poore and pennilesse, dis-fauoured by fortune, and for­saken of my friends, yet doe thou vouchsafe mee a cheerefull countenance, and giue me that kinde entertainment, which thou owest vnto thine owne worth. For my errand is only to thee, thee only doe I seeke after, and for thy sake haue I vndergone this iourney, not for to put thee to any charge; nor with purpose to oblige thee to more then thy good will and affection, which thou naturally owest vnto him, who offers thee his loue: Which if I shall receiue from thee, I shall rest fully satisfied, and remaine besides, in requitall of thy good will, indebted vnto thee in an infinite number of thankes.

But if they which take pleasure in hearing me talke, if they shall likewise be desirous to see me, let them beware, that doe not befall them, which is wont to happen to those that are ouer-curious, who watch and listen, to heare what is said of them; Which kinde of men doe alwayes Malè audire, heare no great good spoken of them. For with the finest gold, is the bitterest Prouerb. Con oro fino, se cubre la pil­dora. Pill couered. And often-times, that moueth some to laughter, which indeed ought to draw teares from their eyes.

Besides, if any man shall long to know the life that I lead, and the place where I liue, he shall therein bewray his owne needlesse curiositie, and giue me iust cause to suspect the vniustnesse of his intent, and the little good loue that he beares me.

Let him first apply himselfe to consider my state and condition, and the great miserie, whereunto my disorder brought me. Let such another as I am, be set before him, or let his owne imagination represent it vnto him, and then shall he presently be able to goe discoursing with himselfe, what passe-time may be made with him, who doth passe his time (being a Prisoner and laden with Irons) with a Renegador, or some ruffianly blaspheming officer, that looks to the sure chaining of the slaues in the Gallies; vnlesse happely he will take pleasure in my miseries, and make himselfe merry with them, as some doe with the Bull that is brought in the Market-place to be bayted, whose Dartes sticking in his sides, whose stroakes and wounds glad the beholders; though I for my part, hold it an inhumane act. And if thou shalt twit mee in the teeth, and tell me, that either I cause nauseousnesse in this my Discourse, or that I fell it vnto thee at too deare a rate, seeking forsooth to be intreated, or that I straine too much courtsie, or that I am a little too coy, and too nice with you, making my selfe more daintie then needeth, or that by my indea­rings and flatteries, I should commend it for good vnto thee; it would grieue me, that thou shouldst haue that conceit of me.

For albeit it be wellknowne, that I alwayes seru'd my Lord Embassadour as a merry companion, and to make his Lordship laugh at my pleasant and witty conceits; for I could then make him sport, when I knew not so much as I doe now; and now that I know more, I can not doe it. For it is a thing that costs a man deare, and the times are not still alike.

But that thou mayst well vnderstand what I say, and know what my iests and merriments were then, and what now shall be thought necessary in that kinde, hearken, I beseech you, with attention to that, which I shall deliuer vn­to you in this insuing Chapter.

CHAP. II.

FRom the great power, and little vertue now a-dayes in men, it so commeth to passe, that faithfull seruants are not so Why great men respect more a pleasant co [...]i­ted fellow, then a faithfull and painfull seruant? much rewarded for their good seruices, and personall paines-taking, as for the sweet words, flowing from their vaine tongues; For the one, they thinke to bee due vnto them, out of their powerfulnesse and their greatnesse, and therefore are not pleased to accept it in good worth, or thankefully to esteeme and acknowledge it. And for the other, they afford them, (for their wits sake) many graces and fauours; and because they want it themselues, they buy out this default with their money. It is great pitie, that these men should thinke, that Vertue should derogate from Noblenesse; and by their ill-conceiued opinion of it, will not (as a thing abhorred by them) vse and exercise the same. Why great men study not vertue.

And for that it is likewise to be purchased and gotten with a great deale of difficultie, and by hard and sharpe meanes, (things that are contrary to their sensualitie, and quite repugnant to their power and greatnesse) they are neuer without flatterers at their eares and elbowes, smoothing vp vice, and stroa­king their euill actions, with a soft and gentle hand.

This is that milke which they haue sucked; thefe, those swathing-cloathes wherein they were wrapped; They made it their naturall Center by vse, and by al use it continueth still with them. Hence arise those superfluous and excessiue expences, those profuse prodigalities, and those vaine magnifi­cencies, which are soone payd, and quickly told out, (when the money is powred forth on the table) but with a great many sighes and teares, when they see how they haue fool'd it away.

It is a lamentable case to see, that a Noble-man should bestow a rich suite of cloathes vpon a Foole and common Iester, and scarce giue a cast hat to the Why great Lords fauour flatterers. vertuous to couer his head. But this is a reciprocall kinde of giuing, a chop and change, that runnes currant among them. For they apparell their bodies with good cloathes, and these in requitall, cloath their mindes with toyes, and idle vanities: They throw many fauours on those, who softly smooth their humours, with sweet and pleasing words, such as shall sound handsome­ly, and haue their cadence and consonancie correspondent to their disposition.

But they buy this their pleasure at too deare a rate, and not vniustly nei­ther, for that their praise passeth thorow the mouthes of such kinde of men, leauing the gate carelesly open, for the better sort to publish their vanities; they falsely conceiuing, that that shall redound greatly to their honour and praise, which in truth and in very deed they ought to esteeme as a reproch and shame vnto them. Yet will I not therefore say; that great Princes should not haue their Pastimes; it is fit, that they should haue their entertainments and recreations; but withall, in their due place and season: For all things haue their time and their reward.

A witty lester is sometimes as necessary, and as vse-full as a wise Counsel­lour. Fooles and Ie­sters, are some­times necessary. Prouerb. When money is well spent. Nor doe I thinke it meet, that their hands should be bound from giuing, gratifying, and fauouring of them; For money, (as I said before) Nunca se goza, si no quando se gasta. We neuer inioy it, but when we spend it. And it is neuer said to be spent, when it is well and wisely bestowed. For I my selfe [Page 11] (in punishment of my sinnes) haue had experience of the one and the other; and can make this good vnto you out of mine owne proper actions, the smart whereof I haue since soundly felt. For, at that time as I seru'd my Lord Embassadour (as you haue formerly vnderstood) I was his Fauourite, and as it were the apple of his eye; And I can assure thee, that any other corporall A Iester, a paine­full kinde of Tra­der. labour would haue beene of lesse trouble vnto me, and not haue laine halfe so heauily vpon my shoulders: For to vtter pleasant conceits, witty iests, and to giue a frumpe, or a flout with a grace, that it may take handsomely, there must many things concurre and iumpe well one with another.

Hereunto will be required a particular gift of nature, which shall giue cre­dit and grace thereunto, with a ioynt coniuncture in the carriage of the countenance, shape, and motion of the body and eyes; So that the one may helpe the other, and euery one by it selfe, haue it's particular grace, that mee­ting all together, they may moue the more.

For one selfe-same thing may be deliuered by two different persons; The one after such a manner, that he will make thee vnbutton The Spanish phrase is, Qui- [...] ­tar el calçado, y desnudar la camisa. thy doublet, and be ready to burst with laughing. The other, with that ill grace, that thou wilt thinke the doore too farre off, and too narrow to get out quickly, and be gone. And let such a one striue all that he can, to giue his iestes that life, and that grace, that is fit and necessary for them, yet it is not possible (if they doe not well become him, and come cleanely and nimbly from him) that hee should hit the marke he aimes at.

There will likewise be required a continuall reading, to know how, and Necessary things for a Iester. when; and from what hee is to forme his Conceits. Hee hath likewise need of a strong and able memorie, for the keeping in minde of all those ac­cidents that haue, and doe daily happen abroad in the world, and the know­ledge of all sorts of persons, that he may know how to apply and accommo­date that which is to be said, with that, of whom it shall be said.

He must take a great deale of care in the inquiry of those things, that are most worthy the reprouing of other mens liues, and most of all, in those that are most noble. For, neither making of faces, freenesse of tongue, gestures of the body, life and quicknesse of the eye, sundry sorts of Matachines, and mi­micke actions, nor all the skill and wit in the world shall bee auaylable to moue the minde of one that is vaine, if they be not seazoned with the Pepper and Salt of Murmuration.

That little touch of tartnesse, that corne of Salt, that drop of Vineger, is Tart iests take best. that which giues a good rellish, and a pleasant farewell to all the rest, be it ne­uer so simple, neuer so vnsauorie. For what is otherwise, is accounted but a dull Picture, a course piece of worke, and the playne artifice of a poore wit.

It will also much concerne him, to consider the opportunitie, and the time, Iests must not bee vnseasonable. when, and wherein he is to breake his iests. For, being deliuered out of sea­son, and not to the purpose, they vtterly lose their grace. For men will not alwayes be willing to heare them, neither are they alwayes, and at all times to be vented; nor they themselues alwayes able to broach them. Aske but this question of him that hath the strongest and ablest wit amongst them; Take the best Iester of them all vpon the sudden, and put him to exercise his ierkes of wit, and to play his pleasant prankes, and you shall finde him frozen, and not able to open his mouth.

This befell Sisneros, (a most famous Comedian) talking with Man­çanos, Sisneros, & Mançanos, Two famous fel­lowes for their quicke wits. (who was no lesse famous then himselfe, and both of Toledo) being a paire of wits, not to bee paralel'd in their time; to whom Sisneros said; Thou seest, Mançanos, that all the world doth take vs for two of the plea­santest and happiest wits that this present Age affordeth.

Tell me, doest thou thinke, that vpon this same that goes of vs, the King our Master will cause vs to be sent for, and to come before him? But say it [Page 12] should so fall out: then let you and I come in together▪ and when wee haue both done him that due reuerence that becomes vs, if we shall after­wards stand solemnely before him (hauing sent for vs vpon the opinion of out wits) it is a thousand to one, that the first question that he will aske vs, will be this; Are you Man [...]os and Cisheros? Then you shall make answere and say, Yea and it like your Maiestie, for I will not speake a word. Then will hee (as it is very likely) say againe vnto vs; Come, let vs heare some pleasant conceits come from you.

Now, I would faine know of thee, what we should doe in this case, and what answere we shall make him? Mançanos told him; Brother Cisneros, when it comes to that, (which God forbid) there is no other to bee made, but this; That they are not yet fryde. So that, neither to all, nor of all, nor at all times are they to be spoken, and when they are to be in request, they are not worth a figge, nor the least haire of thy head, vnlesse they be nipping ones, and dipt in the sawce of Murmiration. And I held this to be one of my grea­test vnhappinesse, that like a setting dogge, I was driuen to winde out other mens weakenesses.

But because this was the fifth element, without the which those other A [...] must ap­ply himselfe to please others. foure cannot well subsist: and that repugnancie and contrarietie doth conserue them; I was continually carefull in seeking out that, which to that office which I now professed, was necessarily required, that I might still goe getting of ground, and accommodate other mens tastes to mine owne. For the better and more essentiall part is, to winne the good-will of those that heare him, that they may the more willingly commend that, which by him is eyther said, or done. So that, those indowments which Nature had deny'de me, I was forced to make good by tricks and deuices, assuming to my selfe illicit licence of language, and vsing preiudiciall darings and bold­nesse, which were much holpen by a particular kinde of viuacitie, liueli­nesse, and quicknesse both of wit and spirit that I had in mee, hauing (God hee knowes) no learning at all. For then I had no more knowledge but of a few languages, which I had learned in my Lord Cardinals house; and those too were as yet but rawe in mee, in regard of my greene yeeres.

Consider therefore I pray' with mee (which you may easily gather out of that I haue told you) what I might haue in me, and what was wanting vn­to me, being not left to mine owne liberty, and liuing in necessitie.

In those my yonger dayes, and in that Spring-time (as I may so tearme it) of my flourishing yeeres, all went currantly with mee; all that I did, became me well, and to all did I fit and apply my selfe▪

For these, and other the like things annexed there-vnto, I was alwayes Guzman, the [...] man with his Master. well clad, much made of, I was the Fauorite, the familiar friend, the Master of my Master, as also of all those that were interessed in his friendship.

I was the principall doore, whereby they entred into his grace and fauour, and onely I the Lord of his Will. I kept the golden key of his secrets. Hee had sold his libertie vnto me, and I was bound to looke well vnto it, and to take care thereof, not onely out of that, but euen for charities sake, and the respect I owe to the Law of Nature, as also for the particular loue, that hee bare to mee, and I to him. For hee was not ignorant, but had made often tryall of my secresie, and vvith vvhat great sufferance I did euer silence those things that hee committed to my bosome; which I vvould none should vnlocke but himselfe, who onely had that key, to open and shut at his pleasure.

It comes now into my minde, and so liuely represents it selfe to my thoughts, that me thinkes I was then like to a trumpe Card, which euery [...], vvhen, and how hee list; or as a common pack-Saddle, that serues for all Horses▪ All did make vse of mee, though after a di [...]ers and different [Page 13] fashion; some, of my actions, for their owne proper interest; and others, of my words, for their pleasure and delight; onely my Master drew in the same yoke with me, both in words, and deeds.

I haue taken occasion to speake thus much, that men may not con­ceiue this opinion of mee, that I goe about to taxe those Princes, that keepe Fooles and Iesters in their Palaces, for their intertainment, and pleasure.

Nor shall it bee amisse that they intertaine them in their houses, not so much for sport and pastime, as by that conduit-pipe, to draw some-thing Why Iesters are to be permitted in Princes Courts. to their knowledge, which would not so well and so cleanely bee conuayed otherwise vnto their eares. And such occasions often offer themselues, where­of these kinde of men may make very good vse, by aduising, counselling, and reuealing graue and weighty matters, vnder the colour of foolery, which wi­ser men dare not aduenture to vtter in earnest.

There are some witty discreet Iesters, which speake Sentences, and are able so soundly to deliuer their opinions, that their Masters will not stoope to aske aduice of any of his other seruants, although it might much concerne them, and were great Statists, and very well able to giue counsell. Nor Why Princes re­fuse the aduice of their Coun­sellors. indeed vvill they consent, that they of all other, should giue them counsell, that they may not to their inferiours confesse their ignorance, or to seeme to vnderstand lesse then they. For euen in this, they would faine shew themselues to be Gods.

And such kinde of seruants as these, are those Parrats, which Iupiter desi­red to haue shut vp in a Cage; Nor is this mischiefe of a day old, or vvas borne but yesterday, that great Persons should scorne and contemne the counsailes of wise, vnderstanding, and well qualified men. So great in these men is their pride, and ambition, that they seeke to aggregate and draw all things vnto themselues, making themselues Masters and absolute Lords, both of our spirituall, and temporall; good, and bad, without controule­ment. Insomuch that they thinke with themselues, that by their onely breath, they giue grace vnto others, and not doing them any good in the world, they looke to be praised and extolled, as if they were the onely men, of whom they did hold their life, their honour, their wealth, and also their vnderstanding, which is the vtmost blasphemie, where-vnto in this case their folly can reach.

There is also another great inconuenience, which is this; That as in a chappell of Miracles, wee must ha [...]g vp▪ to sooth their vanitie, the spoiles, and Trophees of our miseries. For if wee recouer our lamenesse, and bee once able to goe, we must offer vp our Crutches vnto them, whereof vvee made vse, when we were be-nummed, and oppressed with pouertie.

If we escape any dangerous sicknesse, or mischance, we must sacrifice vn­to them that winding sheete, which fortune had cut out for vs, burne Ta­pers, and set vp Images of Waxe, declaring to the world, that this mira­cle was wrought by them, and must hang vp those chaines in the Temple, wherewith vve came forth from out the captiuitie of our miseries, and were now brought home, and landed in a safe Hauen.

But this were not altogether so much to be blamed, if these things did onely occurre vpon vertuous occasions, and that they had truely done these men good.

For there is a kinde of thankefulnesse, due to euery good turne that is done A good [...] re­quires thanke­fulnesse. vs. And then we make it knowne that we haue receiued a benefit, when ren­dring thankes vnto God, we doe likewise publish the vertues of those men, that did doe these good deeds: because with an ardent zeale, and seruent af­fection, they did vse their best industry, imployed their persons, spent their friends, tooke hold of all occasions, let slip no time, and therein wasted [Page 14] and consumed their money. So that things being thus fairely carried, those that are benefited by them, shall vvorthily deserue much blame and re­prehension, if they shall not render them all fitting and conuenient thankes. But they fall as short of these good things, as they doe excell in all fil­thy and beastly vices; vvherein they striue to exceede, and be counted the onely men: A short Tale of a Nobleman; that was much giuen to Lying.

As was to be seene in a certaine Noble-man, that was exceedingly giuen to Lying, and lash out so vnreasonably in that kinde, as no man could out­strip him, who one day talking in conuersation vvith diuers other Gentle­men of qualitie, told them that hee had killed a Stagge, bearing so many branches or antlets on his head, that it did plainely appeare to bee a Lye, though hee carried it very handsomely. They all admired it, they said; (but not gaine-said it) that it was one of the strangest things, that euer was seene, or heard of.

This lik't the Noble-man well; But whilest he and the rest were thus won­dring at it; Why (quoth an ancient Gentleman, a neere kinsman of his) that was there then in company, (after a pretty kinde of fashion bringing it forth;) doth your Lordship and these Gentlemen make such a vvon­der at this? This is nothing, my Lord; For, vvithin these few dayes I my selfe did kill one in the same Forrest, that had two more then this that you talke of.

When hee heard him say so, the Noble-man blest himselfe, saying; It is not possible: and looking angerly vpon him, (scorning as it should seeme to be out-lyde) said vnto him; Sir, speake no more of this, tell it no farther, for it is such a thing, as was neuer yet seene, nor will I for my part euer beleeue it, though I hold it a courtesie so to doe.

The Gentleman, with a sterne countenance, and vndaunted courage, (his Age and Alliance heartening him on) in a discomposed kinde of voice, boldly brake forth, and told him; Zwounds (my Lord) me thinkes your Lordship should content your selfe, that you haue The Spanish word is, Sesenta quentos. Now vn quento, is diez vezez cien mil. But that is not likely, he had so much: and therefore we set it 60000. Couar [...]uuias verb. Contar. sixty thousand crownes a yeere comming in more then I, without seeking to out-strip me in Lying, as you doe in Liuing. Let me (I pray) though I am a poore man) lye as I list: I begge nothing of you, nor any man else; nor doe I rob any man either of his wealth, or his honour.

There are likewise a certaine kinde of witty-conceited fellowes, that are naturally simple and ignorant; from whose mouth, oftentimes, drop mysti­call sayings, and worthy the consideration, which God (it seemes) permits them to bolt forth now and then, making them also to keepe in such things as are fit to be silenced: who (though simple as they seeme) haue an extra­ordinarie grace in the deliuering of them. Which happinesse lighted vpon one, that was a simple ignorant fellow from his cradle; in whom, one of the greatest Princes in Christendome tooke much pleasure, who for some se­cret An answere of a sample Foole, to a great Prince. causes, best knowne to himselfe, had discarded one of his grauest, and chiefest Ministers; And this simple fellow, comming one day into his pre­sence, (which was shortly after the other was dismist the Court) hee was no sooner entred in, but the King askt him: What newes in Court? Hee told him, That his Maiestie had done very ill, in putting N. D. away: And that it was without any reason, or iustice in the world.

The King imagined, (that cause hauing beene iustified by many other of his Ministers) that this had proceeded simply out of his owne mouth, and told him, Thou speakest thus for him, because perhaps he was thy friend, not that thou hast heard any man else say so besides.

The Foole replyd. My friend? In faith thou lyest. Thou art more my friend then he: I say nothing, but what all men say. The King was offended, that any should dare to question his actions, or to examine his brest. And [Page 15] being desirous to know, if any man of worth had presumed so farre to trench vpon what he had done. He replyde and said; Since thou professest that so many haue said it, and that thou art my friend, name one of those vnto me, of whom thou hast heard this complaint.

The Foole paus'd vpon the matter. And when the King thought that hee had beene calling to memory, whom he should name vnto him, hee angerly made answer; The blessed Trinitie told it me. Now see which of these three persons thou darest apprehend and punish. The King thereupon thought that it was a businesse of heauen, and so forbore to speake any more of it.

There are another kinde of pleasant Companions, which are good for nothing else but to dance, to play vpon Instruments, to sing, to murmure, to blaspheme, to swagger, to lye, and to deuoure victuals, good drinkers, Buenos beuedores, y malos viuido­res. The vanitie of some great Men in rewarding Fooles and Iesters and bad liuers. And of these, some are only good at one of these qualities; other some at all. Wherein some great ones take such delight, that they shall haue what they will of them, doing them many extraordinary graces and fauours, which is a most grieuous sinne.

To these, (and only for these Iigges) they giue Iewels of great value, rich suits of cloathes, and hand-fuls of gold; which is more then they will doe for a wise, vertuous, and honest seruant, which shall treate with them of the ordering of their Estates and Persons, illustrating their names, and ho­nouring their house with glorious Titles. But rather when it so falleth out▪ that these come vnto them about matters of importance, and which neerely concerne them, they reiect them, and will not be aduised by them.

Your Presidents, Gouernours, Counsellors, and euery other Officer Why Counsellors of State speake not their mindes truly to their Masters. in Court, or that haue ought to doe in the Palace, being greedy of ho­nour, and blinded with passion, if they bee called to speake their opinion, they often say that in publike, which their owne priuate opinion approues not, though it be neuer so good; because they conceiue that in so doing, they shall conforme theirs, to that of their Lord and Master, and so mannerly seeme to runne along in the pleasing of his humour; As also, for that it would grieue them to the very heart, that another should get the start of them, in gaining their Princes grace and fauour from them. So that many are not ad­mitted Plaine speaking speedes not al­waies best. thereunto, for that they had not this trumpe in their hand, and would not play the like tricks, these getting more by their foule, then they by their faire play. By reason whereof, many things remaine without remedie and redresse; and great businesses often-times ouerthrowne.

And if consultation shall be had of such things, whereof great profit may redound to themselues or to the State, they will tell the Author thereof cold­ly and dryly, because they will neither thanke him, nor reward him; Wee Good labours ill requi [...]ed. knew this before; but there are a thousand inconueniences in it.

But cursed be those Counsellours, who because they were not the first in deliuering that sound opinion in such a businesse, blame the Author thereof, and carried away with the winde of their vanitie, and greedinesse of gaine, send him away empty: but vsing them first as Apothecaries doe their Simples; who first distill or pund them in a Morter, and when they haue squeez'd all the iuyce, and wrung the substance out of them, throw out the cake on the dung-hill. They will first informe themselues thorowly of the busines, the best that they can; and when they finde they are well and fully informed, they take it to themselues, casting from them the true Author thereof; and that good counsell of his, they sell for their owne; and this they doe cu [...] priuilegio.

Some there are, that are like vnto those glasses or other vessels, that haue Shallow [...] neither good for them [...]es nor others. great bellies and little mouthes, they vnderstand things amisse, and fill their stomacke with all that they heare, and whatsoeuer is said vnto them: But al­though [Page 16] mentell, and powre into them neuer so much, and though they be as full as they can hold; yet because they know not how to conceiue things well, they cause others to apprehend as little. And for this reason their businesses miscarry, and take not so happily as they should; for they can not be so well informed of that they treated vpon, as those that were the proper Authors thereof, and had beaten their braines about it many dayes and nights, brea­king their sleepes, and losing many a meale, for the better examining of all the contrary obiections, and for the aduancing of their pretended profitable ends. Much good may it doe them, let them goe beyond me this way and spare not; for I would be loth in the end to rent such kinde of gettings, or to farme them out of their hands.

My Master tooke pleasure in hearing me, and liked me for something else For what seruices the Embassadour made much of Guzman. too besides my talke. For like a good Gardiner, he did gather those flowers to­gether, which seemed fittest vnto him for the making vp of his Nose-gay, picking out the best and the choysest for his particular vse, and the rest (which were but as it were the riffe-raffe and refuse flowers,) he reserued only for en­tertainment.

He treated with me of that in priuate, which others did not stick to speake in publike. And these his secrets he did not only communicate to me alone; The Embassa­dours noble dispo­sition. but when he desired to know any thing, and to attaine to the true vnderstan­ding of businesses, that he might not erre, he would consult with men of wit, and those that had the best abilities, he would make very much of them, fa­uour and honour them; and if they were poore and needy, he would supply their wants as well as he could, and more particularly in those things whereof he knew they stood most in need. And this he fastned vpon them in that wise and discreet manner, that it should not seeme to be bestowed vpon them by the way of Almes, leauing them thereby well contented, fully satisfied, and aboue all, exceeding thankfull: It was his fashion, to haue two or three of these vsually at his table, where were propounded graue politicke questions, and businesses of State; and especially touching those things, which did presse and import him most, and neerest concerned his owne particular ends. By this meanes, without opening and discouering of himselfe, hee receiued their opinions, and reaped the chiefest fruits that their wits could afford him.

The like course he tooke with the Officers in Court, particular Gentle­men, and some Citizens of the best esteeme in Rome; with whom he holding His course to come to know what [...] done [...], and in Court. friendship, came to know the wrongs they receiued, the remedies to be ap­plyed, and how and which way they stood affected. And then afterwards hauing a good iudgement of his owne, he did so dispose of things, as might make most for his aduantage, and the King his Masters seruice; so that hee did seldome erre or faile in those things that he vndertooke. Hee was very discreet, of a settled and well composed behauiour, vertuous, courteous, well studied, and a great louer of those that had in them such commendable parts of learning as were worthy the recommendation. Hee was indued with all those good qualities, which were to be required in a person of his place and imployment; he was like a goodly roome, furnished with all those rich ornaments which might set it forth, and make it appeare faire and beau­tifull in the eyes of the beholders, but in the midst thereof, euen in the very best part of all the roome, there was a The Spanish Refran. Estaua sembrado y nacido vn pe­ro. He had one ill qualitie, which did drowne all the rest. I take that to be [...] sense, though I haue not else­where met with the [...] of this [...] of [...]. choake-Peare sowen and growne [...]p, which did much blemish it.

This Apple was our generall ruine; this Peare the perdition of euery par­ticular. Hee was an Enamorado; one that was ouer head and eares in loue. F [...] [...]ere is no [...] so found, that hath not some corruption; nor no body so free, that hath not some one infirmitie or other. And his was, that he did but loue too well; yea, euen to excesse. But in a matter of this nature, let euery [Page 17] man iudge, as shall seeme best to his owne liking. Howbeit, many wise men haue said, that a man can not bee absolutely perfect, vnlesse he haue once in his life-time beene in loue.

And of this opinion, it seemeth, was that pleasant-conceited Countrie fel­low, that was the common Cryer in his Parish, who hauing often cry'd an A ta [...] of a Cryer. Asse, that another Countrie fellow had lost, and could by no meanes heare a­ny newes of him, (for it should seeme some Gypsies had stolne him, who that he might not be knowne againe, had put new markes and colours vpon him) did earnestly intreat him, that he would doe him the kindenesse to cry him once more vpon the Sunday following, after high Masse was ended; and if he should chance to heare any tydings of his Asse, he would for his labour giue him a little young fat Pig that he had at home.

The knaue Cryer greedy of the Pig, did as he had requested him. And all the people being met together in the Market place, hee stood in the midst thereof, and cry'd out with a loud voyce; To all manner of people, that are dwellers in this Towne, or borderers thereabout, be it knowne, that if there be any man or woman, that hath neuer yet beene in loue, let them come in, and tell their name, and they shall haue a fine young Pig for their labour. And God saue the King.

There was placed right against the same, leaning himselfe against the Wall of the Councell house, a lubberly-Lad of some two and twenty yeeres of age, with long shagge hayre, a russet Cassocke on his backe, welted with the same doth, open about the shoulders, and close before, Breeches of white cot­tond Bayes, gathered and playted beneath at the knees, a Shirt with a band thereunto, so hard quilted throughout the stocke, that a Turkish bow with a very sharpe Arrow, was not able to pierce it, a poore thred-bare Cloake, a payre of high shooes of Neats-leather, knit together with two strings of twisted Hempe, and bare-legged, who comming in all haste to the Cryer in his Clownish kinde of language, said vnto him; Brother Sanz, giue mee the Pig: for by these ten bones I vow vnto you, that I was neuer yet in loue, ne­uer had my head puzled with it, nor euer payd any Tole to that Mill.

Then the Cryer calling the Owner of the beast in all haste, and pointing to this Chop-loch with his finger, said vnto him, Anton Berrocal, giue me my Pig, and take you here your Asse.

But that this may be proued, & that truly by some President of these present times wherein we liue: There was in Salamanca a principall Doctor of the Another tale of a Doctor of Sala­manca. Chayre, one of the famousest and grauest Aduocates in all that Vniuersitie; that often visited (for his entertainment) a certaine Gentlewoman, that had profest her selfe a Nunne, very faire she was, well descended, and wonderfull discreet. And he being inforced to absent himselfe from thence for some few dayes, he went his way without taking his leaue of her, thinking that he had now attained to the perfection of his loue, and that there was no need of these finenesses, and niceties betweene them.

Afterwards, when he was returned from his iourney, hee vvent (as he was vvont) to visit her. But vvhen hee saw, that she would not admit of his Visit, hee became very pensiue and sad there-vpon; because hee could not imagine what should bee the cause of this sudden strangenesse, hauing alwayes heretofore shew'd her selfe very kinde and louing vnto him. But when hee came (by some diligences, that he had vsed) to know the reason of it, he was vvonderfull well contented therewith, it seeming vnto him, that this in some sort was rather a kinde of grace and fauour of hers, the [...] otherwise.

Well, he sent vnto her to excuse himselfe, earnestly intreating her, that he might bee so much beholding vnto her, as to see her, vsing therein the mean [...] of such Ladies and Gentlewomen as were friends to them both.

[Page 18] At last (through much importunitie) fore against her will, she came forth to receiue his Visit, but with that anger and disdaine, that she could not con­taine her selfe, but must needs shew it: for the very first words that she let fly at him, were these:

Base, and ill-nurtur'd as thou art; for such base thoughts, argue no lesse then basenesse of bloud; which is confirmed by thy vngentlemanly pro­ceeding; whereof, to thy shame thou hast made too open show. For hauing thy being, as it were from me, and for my sake, and hauing come thereby vnto that height, wherein now thou art, forgetting all the good I haue done thee, and all the charge that I haue beene at to qualifie thee, and put thee forward in the world, thou hast lost all that due respect and thankeful­nesse, which I deserued at thy hands; but since the fault vvas mine in rai­sing thee, it is no maruell, that mine should be the punishment.

To these she added many other more sharpe and bitter words: so that the poore Gentleman being dasht quite out of countenance, because many were there present when she vs'd him thus coursely, and gaue him such a sound rattling; incensed with the excesse of this her rigour, he made her this short and cutted reply:

Gentlewoman, touching this complaint of yours, be it with, or without any iust cause, I will not stand to dispute it; And for your accusing of my vn-mannerly proceeding, let that likewise passe; For, Cada vno, siente como ama. Euery man best knowes, how, and how much he loues. And I acknow­ledge, that all this ariseth from the many and great fauours, that you haue been pleased to conferre vpon me.

But whereas you touch mee in my reputation, (being forced there-vnto by you,) it is fit and necessary that therein I should satisfie those that are heere present, I must be so bold with you as to tell you plainely; That since God hath been pleased to raise me to that I am, I come not thereto either by corruption, or fauour, but by mine owne great paines, and continuall stu­dies, haue I procured my preferment. She then interrupting him, and not suffering him to goe on, returned him, but with a great deale of choller, this quicke answere:

Thou lyest like a Villaine. Thou rise by thy learning? Thou had'st not come to that great knowledge that thou hast, nor hadst euer had so much wit, as to learne to mend so much as an old shoo, if I had not put spirit into thee, quickned thy wit, and perfected thy vnderstanding, by giuing thee leaue to make loue vnto me. This whetstone put an edge vpon thy dull sconce; and but for this, thou might'st haue sunke, and neuer beene able to lift vp thy head.

By this then wee may see, how much it may import a man to loue; and Touching [...]. that it is not so great a fault as some would make it. Mistake mee not; I meane, when the ends are good, and honest.

But in my Master it was taken in the worfer part; for his ends did exceed and passe their bounds; and the blame of all that ill was laid vpon me; euery man conceiuing, that I was the cause thereof: Complaining, that since I came to serue him, I had opened his scull, and put into his head nothing but Hawkes-bels and Rattles: All that he tooke delight in, were merry tales, idle iests, and the like vanities: which till then, he had neuer formerly been giuen vnto.

It might very well be, that with my heate I might cause some buds or little sprigs to sprout forth. But for to speake the truth (seeing the Parties are not heere to be examined, and I am the man whom they thus accuse) I assure you, that others had the handling of him before, that wrought him this harme.

For when I entred into his seruice, and that hee ca [...]e to put his cure in­to [Page 19] my hands, the Physicians despayred of his recouerie, and had giuen him quite ouer, and would haue no more to doe with him; I vvill not deny, but that I might minister much thereof vnto him; for by reason I was in such fa­uour with him, I had likewise the freedome to vse many odde foolish iests, and preiudiciall liberties of speech.

I was familiarly acquainted with all Rome, I had as free accesse into euery house, as into our owne; excusing my pretensions, that I onely repaired to Guzmans course of life in Rome. such and such places, to giue lessons to some to sing to the Gitterne, and teach other some to dance.

I did intertaine your young Wenches in good conuersation with merry and pleasant iests; and your widdowes, with whispering tales in their eares; and entring into a league of friendship with your married men, I got likewise the good will of their Wiues, to whom they would bring mee to laugh and make sport, wherewith they were well pleased, for the good contentment they tooke in my harmelesse mirth.

And all this I did, to the end, that from this good ground, my Master might take occasion to declare and open himselfe more freely to me. For I re­lating vnto him, what, and how things passed abroad, it was an easie matter for me to kindle with the breath of my words, the fire that was in his heart, by blowing first away the ashes from off those coales, that were already throughly tinded, aliue, and very quicke within him. He was in a good dis­position there-vnto, and therefore any the least occasion would serue the turne. He was a kinde of house made all of thatch, so that a little sparke was inough to raise a great flame, hauing such combustible stuffe to worke vpon, being still affectioned to that, which himselfe had most minde to, with­out hauing respect to that discreet carriage, which he formerly obserued in all his actions.

I doe ingeniously confesse, that I was an instrument of his excesses and flyings out, and that in regard of my being seene to walke here and there Guzman an i [...] instrument to his Masters desires. to and fro, to enter into this house, and to come out of that, many houses, and women of good qualitie, were spotted and branded with infamy.

But let vs heere leaue my Master as a man, to whom albeit these things did cause him to be noted, and to haue his good name called in question, yet was not he so much to be blamed, as those who did know well inough, what manner of fellow I was.

I would many times demand of them, what honour or profit I did reape, by being interessed in these businesses? Why should Widdowes take delight in hearing of tales, and pleasant iests? Why Parents bring such straggling wanderers home to their Daughters? Or why Husbands make their Wiues merry with such dangerous intertainments? What other good can be ex­pected from your neat Pages (such as I then was) who doe scarce touch the ground that they tread on? What doe your Princes witty Iesters, and your Pages & Dwar [...] of [...] vse. Great mens Dwarfes serue for, but to talke with Ladies and Gentle-women, and to indeare vnto them their Masters loue? who againe inquire of them, what good tables they keepe, how gallantly they liue, how much they spend, what in Amber, and other odours and sweet perfumes, what in the pompe of apparell, and what in Musicke that they dayly bestow vpon their friends and Mistresses?

Why doe they talke and giue eare to such things, whereby they after­wards giue occasion to others to open their mouthes, and to vtter with their to [...]gues all that they either know or imagine? Doe not they perceiue, that i [...] so doing, they build but their owne prison, and weaue that vvinding sheete, wherein their good names must be winded and b [...]yed? What b [...] ­fit can the content they take in hearkening to merry [...] bring them? which [...] to no other end in the world, but to giue way vnto them, that they may [Page 20] report to their Masters, what they take most pleasure in, besides the questio­ning of their good name amongst their neighbours? Let these a Gods name make themselues merry with the reward of their errours; and if they be lo­uers of iests, it is no maruell if they bee iested withall. They desire a life to haue musicke play at their windowes, whilest others in the meane while are making Ballads of them, to sing forth their shame at euery mans doore.

A Widdow, that respects her honour, and will haue a care of her credit, A lesson to Widdowes. must keepe her doore shut, her daughter chamber'd vp, her casement close, and aboue all, not suffering her to haue her owne will, and to doe what she list; that shee be visited but seldome, but be alwayes occupied; for, of idle­nesse, (a) growes wantonnesse. And it stands with good reason, Que la ma­dre Prouerb. Del oçio naçe el negocio. holgazana, saque hija cortesana: That a light mother, should breed a loose daughter. And if she loue to haue her traine plaid withall, that her daughter will proue a Wagge-tayle. And if she hap to be married, she will turne ill hus­wife, because she hath beene ill taught.

By this you may see, vvhat obligations the Parents haue to looke well vn­to their Children: Let them take away all occasions of scandall; Let them A lesson to Parents. weigh with themselues, what (vpon the like occasions) they murmure and whisper of others. And then let them consider, how much better it were, that their Wiues, Sisters, and Daughters, should rather learne to handle their Needle, then to play on the Ghitterne; to gouerne well, rather then to dance well: For hence it commeth to passe, that many women, not know­ing how to looke so well as they should, into the corners of their owne houses, busie themselues, in working strange alterations in those of others.

Speake I truth, or no? I know, ye will tell me that I doe. For such truthes as these are not to be treated, or mentioned, but vpon necessitie, and vrgent occasion.

I confesse it to be so, and for my part, I approue it. But because that which I haue said, toucheth none of those that heare me; it is therefore well said, to the end that when it shall be needfull, and men see their time, they may be the better able to giue good counsell vnto others, when they see them step out of the way, and goe awry.

Maloes lo malo, que nunca puede ser bueno. Ill is that ill, that neuer can be Prouerb. good. It was not good, I confesse, that I should bee a Bawd to my Master, But euery man would faine liue. And this Office I performed by those tricks Guzman, his Masters Bawd. and deuices I told you of before, taking occasion by my familiar and generall acquaintance in Rome, to goe as boldly into euery mans house, as I vvould into mine owne, excusing this libertie of mine, by those pretensions I made, of teaching some to play vpon Instruments, and some to dance; intertaining in the meane while Maidens with merriments; Widdowes, with old wiues tales, and what was whispered abroad; and entring into amitie with married men, good honest kinde Cuckolds.

But I was in some sort to be excused, (if not borne withall) for that my wants and necessitie draue me to doe as I did, and opened that doore vnto me, whereat I might get forth to seeke my liuing.

But what excuse can they haue, who for the light toyes of this world, will venture the losse of their reputation vpon earth, and those rich treasures that are laid vp in heauen for those that liue well? which two things euery man ought most to esteeme, and haue euer before his eyes. But what I did here­in, was to wedge my Masters affection vnto me, and to worke my selfe into his fauour, both which I came to be possest of; and not with intent and pur­pose to reclaime him from this his weaknesse, and to perswade him vnto bet­ter courses, but rather to spurre him on in this wretched race that he ran.

But he that would trust me in such like businesses as these, and communi­cate [Page 21] himselfe vnto me in this kinde, what could he looke or expect from me? I know there are many men, who thinke it is a great credit vnto them, that they doe nobly, and get a great deale of reputation and esteeme, by these their visits, their ingresses and their egresses, when indeed, it is quite contrary.

For your women that entertaine chat with your crack-rope Pages, with your giddy-headed Poets, that neuer goe without a muske The Spanish word is, Alco [...]ça [...]i. vna costa de açucar refina­do con mezcia de poluos cor­diales. Alcor­cillas, we call Pastillas de boca. Vid. Couarruuias. Verbo Alcorça. Comfit in their mouth, or chewing the rinde of a Lemmon, with your flat-Capt Citi­zens, your countrie Lads, and the like; some perhaps may hold them discreet; but I am sure they lose the name of chaste, which as an inestimable Iewell they ought highly to esteeme, being for their labour euer after accounted fooles.

Now the profit that I made by this my occupation, trading with this per­son, and with that, with t'other and t'other, this my conuersation being so generall, it was the only meanes, that kept me from being discouered to be a Bawd.

But (to say the truth) they might very well haue put the implumed Hat vpon my head, which I haue seene worne by many others in my dayes, who did lesse deserue it then my selfe, in token they were Loue's Embassadours, whom he imployed in his chiefest and most secret affaires.

Here, in me, may you see how misfortunes fall to men by inheritance. Hi­ther to it hath beene deliuered without any disguise or masking, how I led my Master along, neuer suffring him to take any rest or quiet; and how hee made me another Adonis, in the neatnesse and gallantry of my cloathes, and delicacie of Perfumes, for the great care and diligences that I vsed in these and the like businesses.

But true and certaine it is, that murmurings and whisperings attend such False murmura­tion bites, true kills. Prouerb. Actions. And if a good man be now and then bitten, what wonder is it, that a bad man should be bruised and crusht therewith to pieces? Y que aya sospe­chas; donde no faltan hechas; And that there may well bee suspition, where deeds make confession.

It were a great deale of simplicitie and ignorance in me, and other such as I am, for to seeke after any better name, or to goe about to make (as they say) a stone Wall of Prouerb. Tapiar, a pie­dra lodo. mudde; thinking to stop mens mouthes, and to hinder their ill imaginations and bad conceits of vs, when as we our selues giue them such euident occasions to conceiue amisse of vs.

None can impose, or set any sessing or ratable fine vpon mens censures and Mens censures not to be auoyded. opinions; for that were, Poner puertas al campo; to set vp gates to shut in such a vast circuit, as is Salisburie-Plaine.

Thou canst no more limit a mans thoughts, then thou canst number the sands of the Sea. It is not I that can make them to thinke, or not thinke as I would haue them; I cannot be master of their thoughts; nor will it boote a­ny one man to deny that which all men affirme. It will be but trouble with­out profit, a needlesse and endlesse piece of worke; wherein we shall shew our selues as foolish as he was, who went about to locke vp the smoake, to make doores to shut it in, and to keepe it close prisoner.

But what shall we now say of our foolish Masters, who perswade them­selues, that this their businesse passeth secretly and safely thorow our hands? Shall I deale truly with you? I will. Take it then from me, and I know it to be true, Que no ay çiençia, que corrija vn ena [...]rade. There is no scourge of Prouerb. wit or learning, that will lash a wanton Louer out of his lust.

For matters of Loue, there are no Bartuli, no Aristotles, no Galens; their counsels faile them; their wisdomes are too weake; and their Medicines can Lo [...]e hardly re­moued. doe no good vpon them. Nor there is not any thing, that doth more publish and manifest this truth, then mens solicitude and care in these things, from the which none (that are taken therewith) can containe themselues. For with [Page 22] two Visits of ours, and one intercourse of theirs, or but a passing by their doore, make the little children (those shrill trumpets of truth) to sound forth their lightnesse aloud thorow the streets.

The greatest punishment that lighted then vpon me was; that my hayres be­gan to sprout, and my Chinne to put on a beard, the which the more I shau'd, because I would not haue it perceiu'd, the thicker it came, & grew the faster. And for that it is a peculiar Office belonging to handsome and witty Pages, to be Uenus and Cupids chiefest Ministers, the more diligence I vsed in trick­ing, adorning, trimming, and setting my selfe forth in lafciuious manner, the more occasion I gaue the world thereby to talke and iudge of me according­ly. I studied to be neat and handsome in my cloathes, but tooke no heed how foule the fashion of my behauiour was; and therefore it was no maruell if they threw durt vpon me with their tongues. In a word, either actiuely or passiuely, euery one would bestow vpon mee El nombre de las pasquas, and Prouerb. force me to weare their Liuery, you know what I meane; And though I told them they lyed like a company of Rogues and Villaines as they were, they would laugh, and hold their peace, giuing by this their mysticall kinde of si­lence, a more open way vnto the truth. Their taunts against me were true, and strooke deepe, but whatsoeuer I reply'd vpon them, they made but a iest of it; my words were but as the pecking of strawes, theirs as the piercing of Dartes.

There are a kinde of considerate and discreet men, which take the sayings of men, not as the words sound in themselues, but as they are, from whom they come; regarding more the speaker, then the thing spoken. And this is a great point of wisdome.

Againe on the contrary, there are some (I know not whether I may be so bold to call them fooles or no) who from some dis-fauour of their Mistresses, A c [...]g tricke to defame in this manner. forme an iniury, and as if it either were, or might be so, they will be reuen­ged of them; and laying some imputation vpon their honour, seeke to scan­dall and defame them, without any reason or cause in the world. I was not able to stand against so many, nor could my Sword cut out his way thorow such a multitude that set vpon me: I saw they had reason on their side, and therefore I was willing to bee- [...]ush, and to pocket vp these wrongs with patience.

And albeit it be an Act of true humilitie, patiently to suffer reproach; yet in me it was cowardize, and deie [...]tion of the minde. For that I held my peace and said nothing, there was good cause why; because I knew all the speaking in the world could not helpe it. It might well haue made matters worse, but neuer a whit the better. And seeing that I had not one sparke of shame in mine owne house, I would not for shame goe seeke it else-where; the fire of my zeale to good was quite out, there was no recouering of it. And therefore (making a vertue of necessitie) I was forced to passe ouer all these bobs and ierkes they had at me, some-times with a smile, some-times a iest, and some-times with both.

In conclusion, howbeit I ought rather to haue indured any the greatest hurt that could come vnto me, then submit my selfe euen in the least degree Prouerb. to base gaine; yet notwithstanding, I had, like the Melon, Tenia co­mo el melon la cam [...] hecha. my bed made for me. I saw I could not well be worse thought of then I was already, and therefore casting aside all thought of amendment, I counted it a credit vnto me, and tooke rather a pride in it then otherwise, and so making light of it, and iesting it out, I did set a good face on the matter, when they said any thing to me, that I might not seeme to be dasht out of countenance, or bound to giue them an answer, which would but haue made them to vexe me the more, and done my selfe no good. So that by this they persecuted me the lesse, and I past the more quietly along by them. To passe things by with patients.

[Page 23] And why should I take (seeing this did serue my turne, and that I past well enough with it) any other course with them? Which in these dangerous ca­ses, if I should haue attempted any other way to pacifie them, I should neuer haue beene able to doe it; and should thereby haue but made the fire more to flame, by seeking to asswage it with Flaxe and Rozin.

Let him therefore, whosoeuer will take vpon him to set open a shop to Vice, prouide himselfe of a Tortoyse shell, arme his backe with patience, and keepe his eares, and his mouth shut. And let not any man flatter himselfe, that hauing foule conditions, he shall get him a faire report. For, El nombre, sigue al hombre; As is the man, so is his good name. And as euery one de­serues, so shall he be esteemed.

CHAP. III.

THere is so thinne a Pale put betwixt Deceiuing and Ly­ing; and are so neere kinne the one to the other, that I Of deceiuing and lying. know not who can tell, or is able to distinguish and dif­ference the one from the other: for though they are different in name, they are one in identitie, and of the same paritie in effect, and in essence alike. For there is no Lye without Deceit, nor no Deceit without a Lye.

He that will lye, doth deceiue; and he that will deceiue; doth lye. But be­cause they are commonly receiued after a different manner, and for different purposes, I will take them as they stand in vse, and accordingly discourse thereof.

Deceit then, in respect of Truth, is as Truth, in regard of a Lye: or as the shadow of a Glasse, and that naturall forme which it representeth. It is as aptly disposed, and is made as facill to effect whatsoeuer great hurt, as it is l [...]rd and difficult to be found out at the first; for that it is so like vnto good; that representing the very selfe-same figure, fashion, motion, and propor­tion, it doth the easier destroy it. It is a most subtill net, wrought of the slendrest and smallest threds, in comparison and likenesse whereof was fra­med that other, which the Poets feigne, was made by Uulcane, when hee caught him that cuckol'd him.

It is so imperceptible, and so fine, and thinne; that there is not any sight so cleere, any iudgement so subtill, nor any discretion of that discerning, nor any wit of that nimble apprehension, that is able to discouer it, nay, scarce to perceiue it.

It is so artificially wrought, that though it bee spred out abroad, and laid forth as plaine as may be to our view, yet are wee not able to escape it, in re­gard wee walke on securely, not so much as once dreaming of any fraud or deceit. And by this meanes it is so strong, that few or none doe breake it, vvithout leauing some signe of the harme that they haue taken. And for this cause, it is iustly called Maximum vitae damnum; the greatest hurt that can happen vnto vs in this life. For vnder a tongue of Waxe, it carries a heart of Diamond; it cloathes it selfe with Hayre-cloth, though it neuer come neere the skinne; it keepes a chupping and sucking in of the cheekes, [Page 24] for to make it seeme leane and meager, when its belly is ready to cracke with good cheere. And hauing store of health to sell to others, it speakes pu­lingly, and pittifully; and onely that it may seeme to bee sicke, it puts on a sorrowfull countenance, powres out its teares, offers vs its bosome, Of all mischiefes, decei [...] is the greatest. and with open armes, runnes to receiue vs, but as Ioab did Amaza; imbrace, to kill.

And as Birds giue the Empire to the Eagle; Beasts, to the Lyon; Fishes, to the Whale; and Serpents, to the Basiliske; so amongst all other mis­chiefes, there is none greater or more powerfull, then that of Deceit. As an Aspe, it kils vs sleeping; it is that Syrens voice, whose delight (like a But­chers Curre) first seazeth on the eare, and next, on the throat; its rauish­ing, is murthering; it offers a faire assurance of peace, and with a great deale of smoothnesse, professeth friendship; but neglecting all humane and diuine Lawes, breakes them at her pleasure, leauing vs with as much wrong, as scorne.

She promiseth cheerefull contentments, and certaine hopes, which she neuer performeth, nor doe they euer come to passe, because she goes chop­ping and changing them from Fayre to Fayre, to make her owne market. And as a house is built of many stones; so one deceit is an addition of ma­ny other; and all of them serue for one and the same end. It is the Heads­man of all goodnesse, for with a seeming kinde of sanctitie, it makes eue­ry man secure, and there is none that are either aware of it, or feare it. It comes vnto vs in the habit of a Hermit, the better to execute its ill in­tents.

This contagious infirmitie is so generall, that not onely men, but Beasts and Birds doe likewise therein suffer with them. Also the Fishes in the Waters exercise deceits; and this they doe, the better to preserue them­selues. Trees and Plants doe deceiue, promising pleasant flowers and fruits, which fayle vs at their time, passing brauely away with it. Stones, though they bee but stones, and without sence, trouble our sence, vvith their coun­terfet splendour, and lye, in that they seeme to be that they are not. Time, oc­casions, and our sences deceiue vs; and aboue all, our best and most conside­rate thoughts. In a word, all things deceiue, and we doe all deceiue, one of Foure manner of wayes of de­ceiuing. The first. these foure manner of wayes.

The one is, when one vseth a deceit, and goes cunningly away vvith it, leauing the other deceiued: As it hapned to a certaine Student of Al­cala de Henares; who, when the Feast of Easter vvas drawing neere, and A Tale of a Scholler of Al­cala. hauing nothing vvhere-with to make himselfe merry against that good Time, hee called to minde a neighbour of his, who had a Court or yard, vvith great store of Hens in it, vvith the vvhich hee did himselfe no good at all.

Hee was a poore beggerly fellow; and as hee was very poore, so vvas hee extreme couetous; an erranter mizer was there not in all the Country. He fed them with the bread that was giuen him of Almes; & a nights he shut them vp in the same lodging where helay.

This Student vvent plotting with himselfe, how hee might steale them away, but lighted vpon none that did yet like him. For in the day time it was impossible, and in the night they roosted in the same roome where hee himselfe lodg'd.

At last he bethought himselfe of feigning a packet of Letters, and to put there-vpon two Ducats In Spaine, they doe not pay for the carriage of their Letters be­fore-band, but p [...]t so much Port vnder the Super­scription, to bee paid by him that [...] it. Port, directing it to Madrid to a certaine principall Cauallero, and a Gentleman very well knowne: And before the breake of day, he very secretly laid it on the threshold before his doore, that as soone as hee opened it, hee might presently finde it. Hee got him vp in the morning, and as soone as he saw it, not knowing what it was, he tooke it vp.

[Page 25] This Student past that way in the meane while, as it were by chance. Whom this poore man espying, came vnto him, and intreated him to tell him what those papers were. The Student told him; Marry such (said hee) as I vvould bee glad with all my heart I could light vpon the like.

These (quoth hee) are Letters directed to Madrid with two Ducats Port vpon them, to a rich Gentleman that resideth there, who shall no soo­ner receiue them, but will see you truely paid for your paines.

The poore man beganne to looke vp, and was so ouer-ioyed therewith, that the teares did trickle downe his cheekes. Hee thought with himselfe, that one dayes trauell was a thing of nothing; especially being that he might performe this iourney by noone; and though he went thither afoot, he might in the euening, without any trouble, returne home in some one Cart or other that was to goe for Alcala. Where-vpon, he went and fed his Poultry, shut them vp safe, leauing out such food as he thought sufficient for them, and so hies him away with his Letters.

The Student that night made a shift, by getting ouer some back-sides, and out-Courts, to get into that yard, where the poore mans house was, and heauing the doore off the hindges, hee gets mee in, taking nothing away thence but the Hens, leauing no more but one onely Cocke behinde, with a mourning-hood on his head, and a Mantle of blacke Bayes, so surely sowed on, that they could not fall off; which done, hee with-drew himselfe home­ward to his lodging.

When the poore man was come home to his house the next morning, and saw the mis-fortune that had befalne him at home, and that hee had bestow'd his labour in vaine; for there was no such Gentleman to be found in all Madrid; hee, and his Cocke did bitterly bewayle this their soli­tude and widdow-hood, making lamentable moane each vnto other: the good man with his mournefull vvords; the poore Cocke, with his mour­ning weeds.

Another kinde of deceit is: When together with the deceiued, the De­ceiuer The second. is also deceiued. As it hapned to this Student in this very case. For, he being not able to effect this businesse alone by himselfe, and that he must needs vse the helpe of some body else, hee tooke vnto him one of his Cam­rades, whom he acquainted with the businesse, promising if hee would assist him in this theft, he should share halfe with him.

This his Companion discouered it to a friend of his; he, to a third; so that the word past from one to another, till it came to the eares of certaine madde Waggs of Andaluzia; And for they were old Castilians, (and their Opposites for this cause) they agreed together to strip them of their Hens, by another pretty deuice.

They knew the house from whence they were to come, and the streetes, through which they were to passe; They fained themselues to be the Iustice, and they watcht till they should returne, at the turning of the street: whom they had no sooner espyed, but they issued out This is the fashion, and lan­guage of the Iu­stice in Spaine, when they walke the Round. vpon them in forme of a Circle, hedging them in on euery side, with Lanternes, Swords and Buck­lers, hauing appointed the formost man to aske, Who goes there? What are yee? Stand. Vpon this, they verily thinking, that hee was one of the Iustices seruants, and beeing loth to bee either knowne or taken with that badde vvord of bidding them Stand, they threw downe their Hens, and beganne to take them to their heeles, as hard as they could driue. So that there were not some vvanting, vvho did also coozen, and deceiue them.

The third kinde of deceit is; When it is without preiudice. Neither de­ceiuing others, together with themselues; nor decei [...]ed, when they goe about The third. [Page 26] to deceiue. And this may be done two manner of wayes; Either by Workes, orby Words. Words, by recounting Stories, telling of Tales and Fables, and other things of intertainment. Workes, as by iuggling, sleights of the hand, tricks on the Cards, and other the like deuices, which are done without any harme or preiudice to any.

The fourth kinde is; When hee that thinkes to deceiue, is himselfe de­ceiued; that tricke that he would put vpon another, being put vpon him­selfe: The fourth. As it befell a great Prince of Italy, though some report the same of Cae­sar: Who, that he might grace one of the famousest Poets of his time, carried A pretty passage betwixt the Prince of Italy, and a Poet. him home to his house, where at first he vs'd him wonderfull kindely, made exceeding much of him, did him many fauours, and bestow'd many gifts on him, as long as his humour was pleased with those Poems that he presented vnto him.

But this lasted not long, the Princes affection falling off by a little and a little, till at last the poore Poet was faine to content himselfe with his bare lodging, and some short allowance. So that he suffered much want and neces­sitie; and was growne so poore both in his purse, and his apparell, that hee durst not goe abroad for shame, because he had not where-withall to couer his nakednesse.

The Poet weighing and considering this his vnhappinesse; and seeing himselfe shut vp as it were in a Cage, and that neither (which is per­mitted vnto Parrats) the Prince himselfe, nor any about him, would vouchsafe to heare him speake, hee resolued with himselfe to rowze vp the Princes long sleeping fauour, and waiting an opportunitie to doe it, vnderstanding such a time, that hee was to goe abroad, hee attended at a certaine place, vvhich hee thought fittest for his purpose and vvhen the Prince drew neere, hee made toward him, and kneeling on his knees, when hee came at him, hee presented him with a Poem that hee had made; which the Prince receiuing, hee thought by this meanes to re­uiue that remembrance of him, which had so long lien dead. Hee conti­nued in these kinde of diligencies so long, that the Prince beeing wearied out with these his importunities, was determined to put some iest or o­ther vpon him, to make him to desist from giuing him farther trouble in that kinde.

And hauing himselfe made a Sonnet, and going out to walke one Euening, when he saw the Poet was comming towards him, preuenting him in the presenting of his Poem, he drew the Sonnet out of his bosome, and clapt it in the Poets hand; the Poet vnderstanding the tricke, as one that vvas discreet, feigning to haue read it, highly commending both the Verse, and the Inuention, put his hand in his pocket, and pluckt out a (a) Royall of eight which he had there, and gaue it to the Prince, telling him withall; Such a good wit well deserues a reward. I giue you all that I haue, had I more, you should haue it.

With this the Prince was fast, being caught in the same snare, and paid A Royall of eight, i [...] foure shillings English. with the same tricke that hee purposed to put vpon him. And from that time forward he fauoured him, as he had done before.

There are many other kindes of these deceits; and one aboue the rest, which is a very dangerous one; which is that of those, who would make vs to be­leeue that for Gospell, when as our owne eyes and knowledge doe both see, and know the contrary. Many other dan­gerous deceits.

A fellow that is basely both bred and borne, and well enough knowne to be such a one, will seeke by his hawtie carriage and proud lookes, to gaine Proud fellowes. vnto himselfe the name of a great man, though (God he knowes) he is scarce worth foure Marauedis; giuing (by his ill proceeding) occasions to others, to scoffe and laugh at him: And to say, what fellow is this? What was his [Page 27] beginning? Of what continuance his Auncestors? Whence doth he fetch his Pedigree? What did his Gentilitie or his Office cost him? What trade was his Father of? and of what occupation his Mother? These men thinke to deceiue others, and they deceiue themselues. For not by this meanes (that is to say, by pride) but by humilitie, affabilitie, and faire behauiour, they goe by degrees, throwing in their earth, till they come in time to fill vp those ditches, and to be leuell and equall with the best.

Others seeke to deceiue with their fierce lookes, thinking thereby to be Swaggerers. counted valiant, as if wee did not know, that they are the only men, that dare not meddle with a Mouse; or tread vpon a Worme, if hee should but offer to turne tayle.

Others with their too much prattle, and quoting of Authors, seeke Talking schollers. to bee held wise men, and learned Clearkes, not considering that many Stationers haue farre more in number, who notwithstanding in matter of knowledge are meerely ignorant men. For neither the long Gowne, nor the broad-brim'd Hat, nor the Mule, for all his graue Foot-cloth, shall bee sufficient to couer the disease they are sicke of, but at three or foure shakings of the Vrinall, wee shall discerne those raggs, and cloudie streakes that are in their Vrine, and then they will plainely bee discouered what they are.

I haue said of some, that they repute themselues wise and learned, be­cause Stationers. they haue store of bookes, and that your Stationers haue many more then they; but many of them are worse then these block-headed Doctors, who with a great deale of paines, and by tradition, vnderstand the Fron­tispices of bookes, and yet notwithstanding, being often therein decei­ued, they fall headlong into the pit of ignorance; now would I haue thee to tell mee which of these two doe deceiue most? I shall tell it thee. They are both of one graine, sowne and reaped vnder one and the same Moone, bread of the same meale whereof most men doe eate, and is their onely nourishment.

But out of the number of these, doe I except Paulus and Aldus Ma­ [...]tius; Printers. Henricus, Robertus, and Carolus Stephanus; Adrianus Turnebbius, Franciscus Sansouinus, and many others like vnto them, not only meere Stationers, and Printers, but learned and famous Schollers, and of great note in the world, whose workes and labours doe and shall euer render thereof a perpetuall testimonie. There haue beene diuers other worthy vnderstanding men in this their profession; who in their life-time, haue published and brought to light many most noble and excellent Authors; who, if they had not by them beene reuiued, had beene buryed for euer in the Church-yard of obliuion. Whereas now many of them by these mens great paines and industrie, are raysed from their graues to im­mortalitie.

Others are growne so foolish, (and indeed are accounted no better) who Old men. being now growne old, decrepit, and vnable for any kinde of vse or exercise, and this their weaknesse being notorious and well knowne to all the world, and this their rotten building ready to fall, yet are they willing to deceiue themselues, and euery body else (if they could) contrary to all truth and rea­son, by dying the haires of their heads and beards, as if any man were so ig­norant, and did not know that there are none of these changeable coloured beards, but at euery motion of the Sunne, and euery cast of the eye they pre­sent a different colour, and neuer a one perfect, much like vnto those in the [...]cks of your Doues and Pigeons; for in euery haire of these old Cox-combes, you shall meet with three diuers and sundry colours; white at the root, yel­low in the middle, and blacke at the point, like vnto one of your Parrats feathers.

[Page 28] When women doe the like, there is not any one haire of theirs, which hath not it's different colour. There was a certaine Gentlewoman in the Old women. world, that shall be namelesse, (which of mine owne knowledge, I am able to affirme) who did vse this dying and colouring of her hoary haires, which one day I did diligently marke and obserue; and beleeue me (for let me not liue if I lye vnto you) some of them seemed greene vnto me, some blue, some yellow, some vermilion, and others of diuers other colours; and in some one odde haire, all these colours did conioyne and meete together. So that seeking thus to deceiue Time, and to dissemble her Age, shee discouered her folly, and became a laughing stocke to as many as lookt vpon her.

That some young folkes should vse the like deceit, who by inheritance haue beene borne with gray haires, (who like the fruits that grow in the Young folkes. fields of Placençia, grow ripe before their time) it is no great maruell. Yet euen these too (though better to be borne withall) giue occasion of hauing that freely spoken of them, which they willingly would auoyd, where­by it comes to passe, that as they increase in yeeres, they decrease in credit.

O thou vnfortunate, miserable, and wretched old Age, thou sacred Tem­ple; Old age, a vene­rable thing. Old age necessa­ry, yet not regar­ded. thou Sanctuarie of safety; thou stop to the desperate carreeres of this life; thou Inne of rest to our weary bones; How is it that thou art so much ab­horred in this life, being that thou art the Hauen, which all men desire to at­taine vnto? How is it that they, who respect thee a farre off, when they come neerer vnto thee, sticke not to prophane thee? How is it, that thou be­ing the vessell of Prudence, thou art derided as foolish? How is it, that thou that art honour it selfe, respect and reuerence, art by those that are thy best friends reputed infamous? How is it, that thou being the Treasurie of know­ledge, art despised and contemned? Either there is some great defect in thee, or some euill disposition in them; whereof the latter is most certaine. They come vnto thee (wanting the ballast of graue counsell and sound aduice) like a Ship without sand or grauell in the Keele of her, to keepe her steady; through lacke whereof the Barkegoes roullingand tottering to and fro, be­cause their shallow braines want that due weight and counterpoyse, that should ballace their vnderstanding, and keepe it straight and vp­right.

To this purpose I will tell you a tale, worthy of long consideration, though the discourse be short, and feigned for this effect.

When Ioue had made the fabricke of this Vniuerse, it seeming vnto him, A pretty Tale. that all was faire & perfectly good, before he created man, he formed all other liuing creatures; amongst the which, the Asse being desirous to be the most remarkable and renowmed of all the rest, (which had he not done, he had not beene an Asse) as soone as he had scarce newly opened his eyes, beholding this glorious and beautifull frame, he was wonderfull iocund and merry; began to Iupiter and the Asse. leape & to skip from one place to another, and to bray (as they vse to do) aloud (being the first trumpeter, that euer was in the world) till being quite wea­ried out, and glad to take his ease, being a little gentler and cooler then h [...] was before, it began to come in his minde; How, from whence, and when he was an Asse; for that he had not beene an Asse from the beginning, nor be­gotten by an Asse. Which made him to examine with himselfe why, and to what end he was created, and what place should be prouided for him, where hee might take his rest; it being a thing proper vnto Asses, to take the ends of things into their confideration, when they are already past all remedie, and (as we say) at the last cast, when the iollitie of their youth is past, the [...] merry dayes spent and gone, and their pleasures at an end.

And yet would to God, that some would come to this amendment, and perseuer therein, Tempran [...] se recoje, qui­e [...] ta [...]de se conuierte. Que temprano se recoje, quien tarde se conuierte. For he [Page 29] recals himselfe in time, that returnes at last. In this melancholy humour, my honest Asse comes me to Iupiter, humbly beseeching him, that he would bee pleased to reueale vnto him, who he was, and for what end hee had created him? Iupiter told him, For the seruice of Man, and told him by piece-meale one after another, all those duties and seruices belonging to his charge, and what manner of burthens he was to beare.

Which newes was so vnpleasing vnto him, that vpon the very hearing of it, there suddenly came bruises and gallings vpon his backe, and hardnesse of hoofes, with his head and eyes hanging downe to the ground for very griefe. And out of a conceited feare of his future labour, (for euils not yet indured, out of the noyse and rumour that they make, doe, at the first nomination of them, feare vs more then when we afterwards proue them) he remained in that sad and melancholy dumpishnesse as we now vsually see him, concei­ting that to be a most yerkesome and painefull kinde of life whereunto hee was destinated.

Whereupon he farther intreated of Iupiter, that hee would be pleased to tell him, how long he was to lead this miserable life? Iupiter told him, he was to continue therein, the full tearme of thirtie yeeres.

The Asse hereupon began to mourne and grieue anew, it seeming vnto him, to be as it were a perpetuall and eternall slauerie, if it should last so long: And therefore once more he humbly besought Iupiter, that hee would haue com­passion of him, and not suffer him for so long a season, to indure so hard a seruitude. And being that he had not yet dis-merited of him, by any fault that he had committed against him, nor would (if otherwise he could choose,) euer offend him, that ten yeeres might suffice for his liuing in this base fashion; all which time he would faithfully promise vnto him, to serue man wel & tru­ly, like an honest Asse, with all meeknesse and fidelitie. And those other twen­tie, which were ouer and aboue remaining vnto him, that he would bestow the ouer-plus of those yeeres vpon some one, that were better able to beare them.

Iupiter being moued with these his humble and earnest intreaties (looking, poore silly foole, most pitifully,) granted him his request. Whereupon the Asse was not al-together so sad as he was before.

The Dogge, whose nature it is, to winde and sent out things, stood all Iupiter and the Dogge. this while attentiuely hearkening to all that had passed betwixt Iupiter and the Asse. And being desirous likewise to know something concerning his good or bad fortune; albeit hee carryed himselfe herein like a Dog, seeking to nose out that which was not lawfull for him; to wit, the secrets of the gods, which are only reserued to themselues, (of which nature are future things, and such as are to fall out hereafter;) yet notwithstanding his errour therein was worthy some excuse, because hee had the manners to craue this kindenesse of Iupiter, and did not, as some women doe, and some of those peraduenture that now heare me, who without God, (but not with­out the Deuill) seeke after Witches and Gypsies, to tell them their for­tunes.

But how can they tell thee any good, who them-selues are so bad? They Witches and Gypsies, full of fraud and dec [...]. tell them a thousand lyes, and fraudulent inuentions, and steale from them (be it good or bad) all that they can finger, leauing them afterwards a­mazed, ashamed, mocked, and deceiued, and laught at for fooles as long as they liue.

But to returne to our Story that wee haue in hand; The Dogge came to Iupiter, and besought him, (seeing that he had proceeded with the Asse, his Companion, so graciously, giuing him vpon the hearing of his Petition, satis­faction to his demaunds) that hee would likewise affoord him the like fauour.

[Page 30] Who made him this answere; that his Office must be to runne a hunting, and to kill Hares, and Conies, but not to touch or eate one bit of them, but The Dogs office. with all faithfulnesse to resigne them vp vnto his Master. And afterwards, when he should returne home weary and stiffe with hunting, and following of his Game, he must be content to submit himselfe to be tyde to a post, to guard the house, where he should wait the eating of late and little suppers, feeding on a few cold [...]raps, and bee glad to gnaw vpon a bone, that had been already pickt and throwne away. And besides, (which was worse then all the rest) he should haue many a bang about the loynes with a Cudgell, and many a spurne and kicke with the foot.

Then did he aske him againe, for how long a time hee should indure all this paine? Iupiter told him, thirty yeeres.

The Dogge, when he heard this his doome, was very much daunted, and discontented, as thinking it too intolerable a thing to be indured; But relying on that grace and fauour, which Iupiter had shew'd the Asse (hoping that he should taste as much of his goodnesse, as his fellow before him) intreated him to take pitie of him, and that hee would not permit, that hee should receiue so much wrong, and bee so hard and coursely vsed; for hee was the workman-ship of his hands, and no lesse his creature then was the Asse; and besides, he was more louing and faithfull, then all the other beasts of the field. And that therefore hee would vouchsafe the fauour, if not to lessen the time of his troublesome life, yet at least to equall him with the Asse. Iupi­ter condescended. The Dogge, in token of his thankefulnesse, bowed his nose to the ground, remitting into his hands the remainder of those his other twenty yeeres.

Whilest these things were a doing, the Ape did not sleepe, but lay close, and listened very diligently to all that had past, longing to see what Iupiter, and the Ape. would be the end and successe of these their supplications. And because it is a peculiar propertie belonging to the Ape, to imitate that, which others doe, he would likewise in this follow his fellowes, being desirous also to know, what should become of him? Perswading himselfe, that hee that had shewed so much mercy to the Asse, and the Dogge, would take no lesse pitie of him.

Here-vpon, he goes me to Iupiter, and humbly intreats him that hee would deigne to giue him some light of that, which was like to befall him in the passage of this his life, and for what end he had created him; for it was not a thing to be doubted, that he had made him in vaine.

Iupiter signified vnto him, that it should for the present bee sufficient for him, onely to know, that he must goe trayling of a chaine vpon the ground, The Apes office. with a great clogge at the end of it, that should continually accompanie him, and be bound as a Surety for him, in case he were not ty'de fast to some Post, or the barre of a Window; where, in the Summer hee should suffer heate, and in the Winter, cold; indure hunger and thirst; eating his meat, leaping, and skipping, and fetching m [...]ny a friscall. And that for euery bit they gaue him, he must first make a thousand chatterings with his teeth, and as many mowes and mops with his mouth, in requitall whereof he should re­ceiue so many lashes with a whip, onely to prouoke others to laughter, and to make them merry.

He thought this was hard teaching, he did not halfe like it, it was too curst a Schoole for him to bee trayned vp in, and would then, (if he could) haue made show thereof by his many teares; but putting a good face on the matter (as your Apes can when they list) and patiently brooking his hard fortune, he would faine likewise know, how long he must be ty'de to this hard course of life? He receiued that answere from him, as the rest had before, to wit, thirty yeeres.

[Page 31] Grieued with this answere, but comforted with the hope that he had in the all mercifull Iupiter, he besought him that they might not be more then those of other beasts, and euen those few, he thought were too many to be indured.

Iupiter made good his request, and granted him what he desired; and the Ape kissing his hand (as if hee had beene borne a Courtier) with a low Conge took his leaue, and went away with his other Companions & friends; the Asse, and the Dogge.

After these things were thus finished and set in order, Iupiter at last cre­ated Iupiter and the Man. Man, making him a more perfect creature then any of the rest, gi­uing him an immortall and discursiue Soule; He gaue him power and do­minion ouer all that he had created vpon earth; making him the vsu-fructua­rie Lord thereof. Man was very well pleased there with, and tooke great de­light in beholding how goodly a creature he was; how faire and beauti­full; how curiously organized; how handsomely shap't; how strongly set; how great and powerfull a Prince; insomuch that hee beganne to thinke with himselfe, that such an excellent fabricke, was worthy immortalitie. And therefore he intreated Iupiter to tell him; not, what should become of him hereafter, but onely, how long he was to liue? Iupiter replyde; That when he first determined the creation of all kinde of liuing creatures, and more particularly of Man, hee was then resolued to haue giuen euery one of them thirty yeeres of life apiece.

Man here-vpon, beganne much to maruell, and wonder at the matter, that for so short a time, he had made so admirable a piece of worke; for in the opening and shutting of the eye, like vnto a Flower, his life should passe away, and should scarce bring his feet from forth his mothers wombe, but that he is entring with his head into that of the earth, rendring vp his body to the graue, not inioying his age, nor that delightsome and pleasant seat, wherein he had been created.

And therefore considering with himselfe what had lately passed betwixt Iupiter and those other three beasts before-mentioned, hee humbled himselfe before him, and vvith a lowly (but pleasing) countenance, bespake him thus:

Supreme Iupiter; if my demand shall not be troublesome vnto thee, and H [...] man should treat with God? against thy diuine Orders and Decrees, (for my intent shall neuer extend it selfe to any the least breach of the least of them; nor shall I euer require a­ny thing of thee, but what shall be fitting for me to craue, and shall stand with thy willingnesse to grant, alwayes conforming my will to thine) I humbly begge this boone at thy hands, that thou wilt bee pleased, (since that these brute beasts, vnworthy of these thy fauours, haue refused that life which thou gau'st them, the happinesse whereof, as being depriued of reason, they did not well vnderstand, in that they haue euery one of them surrendred twenty yeeres of those, which thou granted'st vnto them,) to bestow those yeeres vpon me, which they haue refused, that my life may thereby be inlarged; and thou, by me, the better serued.

Iupiter gaue eare to this his Petition; and granted vnto him, that (as Man) he should liue but his owne thirty yeeres. Marry when they were spent, hee should inherit those of the other three in their order.

First, he should enioy the Asses twenty, supplying his Office, in moyling and toyling in the world, tumbling and tossing to and fro, first to one place, and then to another, carrying and re-carrying home, and out againe, carking and caring to prouide for the necessaries of this life. This thou must doe, (if thou meane to liue another day) from thy thirty, to fifty.

Now from fifty to seuenty, thou shalt liue like a Dogge, barking at [...]e, snarling at another; grumbling at this, and growling at that, vexing thy selfe, and offending others.

[Page 32] And lastly, from seuenty to ninety, thou must play the Ape, counterfetting those thy defects of Nature, and vsing of tricks and toyes, and I know not what foolish and fantasticall deuices.

And hence is it, that wee often see in those that come to this Age (for all The folly of some old men. they be so old) would faine seeme young; Tricking themselues vp so neat­ly and so sprucely, ietting it (like yong Gallants) vp and downe the streets in gay cloathes, visiting this Lady, making loue to that Mistresse, and vnder­take, I know not what impossibilities, that they may be accounted iolly stout Gentlemen, representing that, which indeed they are not, euen iust for all the world, as the Ape doth, who is neuer quiet, nor thinkes himselfe well plea­sed, but when in his actions he is imitating man, though he can neuer come to be a man.

It is a terrible thing, and not to bee indured, that men will, in despight as it were of Time, (which discouers all deceits) and ought likewise to put them out of this their errour; will apply themselues to runne a course contra­rie to the truth, and that with their tinctures, playstrings, lees, and slibber-slabbers, should play as it were with a Iugglers boxe, to coozen others, and discredit themselues.

As if by these Artifices, they could eate the more, sleepe the sounder, liue the longer; or be troubled with the fewer infirmities and diseases; or that by this course they take, the teeth which they haue shed, would come a­gaine, or to keepe those from falling from them, which are yet remaining. Or as if by this meanes, they could repaire their feeble limmes; recouer their naturall heat; quicken anew their old and frozen bloud; or as if thereby they did thinke they had the power in their owne hands, to make themselues what they list, and as lusty as they list: In a word, as if they were ignorant what the world talkes of them; when as they themselues talke of nothing else, then which is the better lye, and which the better dye; which either this, or that other man makes. Nor is all this, which I haue now deliuered vnto you, much amisse from the purpose; being that I am to make my conclusion touching this point, the propositions consisting of two Gentlemen, both free-men of this foolish Company, for whose sake you haue had the Premises.

My Lord the Embassador (as you haue already heard) kept a free Table, was rich, and tooke great pleasure in keeping a good house. And because all A Tale of two Gentlemen, that dined with the French Embassa­dor. guests doe not alwayes giue content; it one day hapned, that hee made a feast for the Spanish Embassador: and amongst diuers other Gentlemen, there came two to dinner vnto him, that were principall Persons: the one a Captaine; the other, a Doctor of Law: But to his Lordship both troublesome and wearisome alike, for the great pleasure that they tooke to heare them­selues talke. Of whose impertinencies, and friuolous discourses, my Lord had in priuate some speech with me heretofore.

For albeit he tooke great delight and contentment in hearing men of wit and learning, speakers of truth, and such as were discreet in their carriage and behauiour; so on the contrary, could he by no meanes indure any kinde Lyer [...] and Flat­terers, hated of all good men. of falsehood or lying, though it were but in iest and merriment.

He could not abide an Hypocrite, or a flatterer; plaine dealing with him was a iewell; He would, that mens words and workes should be simple, without sophistication, and truly noble, without any manner of doubling, and dissimulation.

And howbeit in these two men, there were very good motiues and reasons to cause men to hate and abhorre them, yet I am of the minde, and hold it infallibly true, that in the liking, or disliking of this, or that man, one more then another, there is some Celestiall influence conspiring there-withall; and on these two had it wrought with great efficacie, and strong effects; for there was no man but did hate them.

[Page 33] My Master would faine haue rid his hands of them, and haue shak't them off, but he could not; for that they met him in the street in his way home­ward, and would needs waite on him to his house, as men that did much ho­nour his Lordship, and did owe him a great deale more seruice, then this their willing attendance vpon his person, whereunto they owed all respect. So that my Lord (being so noble a Gentleman as he was) was driuen by force to inuite them to stay dinner, who had as it were by force accompanied him to his house. Nor is there any vexation, that can vexe a man more, then such petty vexations, which a man would faine put off, but knowes not hand­somely how to doe it. O this incroaching kindenesse, what a crosse it is, when it shall be inforced vpon a man whether he will or no, vnlesse the one will be as vnciuill as the other is impudent!

As soone as I saw my Lord enter within the gates, I perceiued presently by his countenance, that something, what-euer it were, did trouble him. I loo­ked earnestly vpon him, and he vnderstood my meaning. Hee told me what it was, (speaking vnto me with his eyes, by casting them vpon those two Gentlemen;) and I needed no farther instruction to direct me, what I had to doe.

I held my peace for the present, and dissembled my anger, beginning to cast about with my selfe, what course I were best to take, to make these men, (who had so distasted my Master) a sport and laughing-stocke to all the rest of the company, and so make them pay dearely for their dinner.

I had no sooner entertained this thought, but there came presently into my head a pretty odde pranke, that made fit for my purpose. Nor did I take much paines in the finding of it out; for they came thither handsomely in­terlarded, and the iest, themselues had brought it along with them ready drest, and very well seazond. Only I expected a fit occasion, to set it before them, which was now neere at hand. But I did deferre it, till the last course should bee serued in, and al-most ended, that it might take the better. For the Que la bo­ca se hincha de risa, no ha de estar el vien­tre bazio de vianda. mouth, that will be filled with laughter, must not haue it's bellie Prouerb. emptie. A merry heart, and a hungry maw, seldome meet. Tanto se rie, quanto se come. As a man likes his fare, so hee laughes; proportioning his mirth, according to his meat. The Cloth was laid, meat on the boord, the Guests were merry, healths went round, and when I saw their blouds grew warme, and that they were set vpon the merry pinne, talking and laugh­ing on all hands, some of one thing, some of another, a little before they were to wash, the Towell being not yet throwne on the boord, nor the Bason and Ewer set downe, I came close to the Captaines side, and rounding him in the eare, told him a notable non sequitur; He laught heartily at it; and being bound to requite me with another, made me bend downe my head towards his bosome, that he might the better tell it me in mine eare; and so in secret, we made two or three passages one vpon another; and when I saw my time, and that it serued fit for my purpose, I began to raise my voyce anote higher, and with a cheerefull looke, smiling merrily vpon him, (as if we had talked all this while of that which I shall now tell you, when (God he knowes) we had neuer a word of any such matter I told him, No, my Sen̄or Capitan, no, Guzman puts a tricke vpon the Doctor and the Captaine. you shall pardon me, I will not; if your Worship will vent it your selfe, you may better doe it then I, for you haue a good tongue to put it home, and a better arme to maintaine it. I will hatch none of your egges (good Cap­taine) forth with them your selfe. For these are no fit and sauory Iests, for such a poore Youth as I am, and being so great a seruant of Master Doctors, as no man in the world can be more.

With that, My master, and all the rest of the Guests besides, began to crie out vnto meat once, How now, Guzmanillo, what's the matter? I know not, Sir, vnlesse my noble Captaine here long to see my crowne shauen, and to [Page 34] haue me to take my Degrees, which it seemes, hee would faine haue me to doe, seeking to set the Doctor and mee together by the eares, and put­vs to the paring of each others nayles, till wee bee both toucht to the quicke.

The Captaine, when he heard me say so, was frost-bitten, and maruelling what the mystery of this roguerie should be, suspected there was some kna­uerie in it, though he knew not what. And not knowing what to doe, fell a laughing, without speaking any one word at all.

But the Spanish Embassadour call'd vnto me, and said, Friend Guzman, now by my life, you shall not smother it; what's the matter, I prithee? Let vs know of thee, why at one and the selfe-same time, thou laughest, and yet seemest angry? It must needs be some good conceit or other, and therefore out with it.

Seeing your Lordship hathlaid downe so great a pawne as your life, I shall (though loth, and much against my will) tell you what it is; and I protest vnto your Lordship, that I had rather haue held my peace; and had you not sworne by your life, I would sooner haue had my tongue drawne back­wards out of the nape of my necke, then to vtter the least sillable of that which I shall now fully deliuer vnto you. Your Lordship shall therefore vn­derstand, that my Captaine here laid his Command vpon me, that I would breake a iest vpon this Doctor, my worthy and noble friend; girding at the cut of his beard; for he saith that the fashion of his beard, is iust for all the world like one of those vpon your Flemmish Iugges, and that a-nights he puts it in a Presse; made of two thinne Trenchers scru'de wonderfull close, that no Ghitterne can be closer shut vp in it's Case, that it may come forth the next morning with euen corners, bearing in grosse the forme of a Broome, narrow aboue, and broad beneath, his Muchatos, Ruler-wise, straite and le­uell as a line; and all the other haires, as iust and as euen, as a Priuet hedge, newly cut; answering each other in a vniforme manner, hauing the point thereof in forme of a Quadrant, drawne neatly out, that it might make the fairer and larger show. For such a goodly Beard accompanied with a Ro­man Bonnet, (like your Briefes and your Larg's in a Singing-mans Booke;) doth grace his lesser and grosser notes. As if this were sufficient to make him be held a great Scholler; As if this faire out-side, were a qualification for him; as if men had not seene your Cauallos Argeles, some horses with one only white foot on the farre side behinde, hauing all the other parts of their body of another colour, and yet come of a very good race. And some great block-heads, (though bred vp in Vniuersities,) whose ignorance is a great deale larger then their Gownes; being like herein vnto some kinde of Me­lons, which coozen vs with the gloriousnesse of their colour, seeming to be good Melons to the show, but indeed are worse then Pompeons; no stuffe, no goodnesse in them. And this is that, which my Captaine would haue had mee said, as from my selfe. And this was it which made mee cry, No, no; and that he should tell it himselfe, and he would, for I would none of it. This is all, my Lord: if there be more behinde, your Lordship may be plea­sed to lay your Command on the Captaine, who (I know) wil be ready in this, or any thing else, to doe your Lordship seruice.

The Captaine blest himselfe, when he saw whither I had driuen the nayle, wondring at this my subtilnesse of witt, and cunning conueyance, him­selfe and all the rest of the company laughing at it, but none of them witting whether it were a truth or a lye, that had past thus betweene vs.

But my Doctor, hauing his head well warmed with Wine, knew not whe­ther he were best to be angrie, or to turne it to a iest? But because they lookt still more and more vpon him, and euery ones eye was fixed on him, he paw­sed [Page 35] a while, and carrying a countenance betwixt anger and shame, at last he vented himselfe, and spoke thus vnto them:

My Lord, if my profession would permit it, that I should giue my selfe that satisfaction, which such an impudencie as this deserueth, your Lord­ship might easily beleeue, that I would comply with that obligation, where­in I stand bound to my Progenitors, and the honour of my House.

But being that your Lordships presence doth priuiledge this insolent bold­nesse, and that this place will afford me no other weapons then my tongue, your Lordship may be pleased to giue me leaue to demand of this Captaine, How old he is? For if that be true which he sayes, that he serued the Empe­rour Charles the fifth in his warres, being with him at the battell of Tunez, how comes it to passe that he has neuer a white haire in all his beard, nor blacke one in his head? And if he be so young, as he would seeme to be, why doth he say, that he was present with him, at such an ancient piece of ser­uice, and so long agoe as that was? Let him tell vs, I pray, in what Ior­dan hee hath washed, or to what Saint recommended himselfe; to the end that we may all offer vp Tapers to his shrine, and haue recourse vnto him for helpe, when we shall haue the like need? Let him first declare this, and then let him goe on with his game, and I will play mine as well as I can. And since he hath first trumped about, let vs trie, who can soonest beate out one another and winne most Tricks. For there is no reason hee should so carry it away, nor shall he get any thing by his crossing of me, while I haue a trumpe in my hand.

All the whole boord fell a laughing a-fresh, but especially my Master, for that two things were then treated, which of all other he did hate and de­test, and desired the reformation of them, as no man more.

And hauing well obserued all that had passed herein, hee said vnto mee; Now tell me, Guzmanillo, what thou doest thinke of this? Since thou hast The Conceit con­sists in the word, Lye; for that they did colour the haires of their Beards, with lees made of purpose for that vse. proposed the Argument, I will haue thee to resolue the Question. I then told him, All the Answer that I can make your Lord­ship, is only this: That they haue both said Truth, and yet both of them lye (a) in their beards.

CHAPTER IV.

THey did all highly commend the iest, and some did indeare it so farre, that the Doctor thereby was the more inraged, insomuch that they were sorry they had prest it so farre, and giuen it so great an applause.

But the Embassador of Spaine, through his great wise­dome, threw in his The Spanish word, i [...] meter el baston. A metaphor bor­rowed from a Master of De­fence, who when his Schollers grow [...] and angry at play, throwes in his cudgell be­tweene them, wherevpon they [...]old their [...]ands. So that meter el baston signi­fies metaphori­cally, the reconci­ling of friends▪ when they begin to grow ch [...] one with another. Warder, and tooke vp the quarrell, making it (by his discreet handling of the matter) a merry meeting onely of friends, where no exception was to bee taken at any thing that should merrily passe amongst them.

The Captaine was a good natur'd man, well behau'd, an old beaten Souldier, and a good fellow, who laught heartily at it, let it passe as a iest, and blessed himselfe, vowing and protesting, that hee neuer spake any one such word vnto mee, nor was it euer in his thought to touch vpon any such point. And though he were nipt, yet because he was a discreet Gentleman and a Souldier, (amongst whom now and then iests are broken, as well as Lances) should the Doctor haue vs'd him worse then he did, he would either not haue heard it, or seeme to set light by it, for that he thought he had some reason so to doe, because what he then spake, came from him, as one that had beene much iniur'd and abused.

But when the Doctor certainly knew, that I had been the onely Author of all this mischiefe, he did set vpon mee in that fierce and terrible manner, The Doctor grows very angry with Guzman. that he did cut his words with his teeth, not being able to pronounce them plaine, through his too much eagernesse, and heat of choller. And hee would faine haue risen from the table to haue had me by the eares, and to haue pum­meld me soundly about the head and the nose, and to haue buffeted my cheeks; but they would not suffer him so to doe.

And seeing he could not be reuenged of me as he would; and hauing no o­ther weapon left him to beat me withall but his tongue, he roundly laid about him, and letting the reines loose to his rage, he bestow'd his Liuery vpon me, calling me by all the vile names, that hee was able to reckon vp; whereof I made little reckoning; but did rather helpe him on, by teaching him what he should say.

This madded him more then all the rest, to see mee thus mocke and scoffe at all that hee said, which made him breake out worse then before, and to grow farre more violent and outragious with me. For, as if this bitter iest had beene some Excommunication, that by a ioynt consent, and generall Councell as it were, had gone out against him, and that euery one of vs had a finger therein, he car'd not whom he paid; and almost, nay, more then al­most, (if my Master had not stopt him in this his furious course, as one that knew well, what a huge dust, a foolish cholericke fellow will sometimes raise, both to his owne and others hurt) this businesse had growne exceeding foule. The French Em­bassador seekes to [...] the [...].

He sought to pacifie him with the best reasons hee could then vse vnto him, as one that would faine turne the water another way, and diuert these [Page 37] his euill intensions towards me; Which that hee might the better doe, hee beganne to shuffle the Cards anew, sundring the one from the other; and that hee might wholly cut off all that former offensiue conuersation, hee turned himselfe towards Caesar, that Neapolitan Gentleman, who had told him of that sad accident, that had befalne Dorido and Clorinia (who was likewise one of his guests) and said vnto him:

Sen̄or Caesar, since the hard hap, and vntimely death of the faire Clorinia is now knowne to all Rome, and to these Gentlemen that are heere pre­sent, let vs intreat you to doe vs the fauour, to deliuer vnto vs, what be­came of constant Dorido; for I haue a great desire to know how hee sped. That, and it may please your Excellencie (said Caesar) you shall heare in its due place and time; for this is no fit season for it; it being not meet to mingle such mis-fortunes amidst our merriments, nor will it sute so well with this day of feast and iollity, especially considering what hath passed heere already to the disturbance of this good company, that are met heere of purpose to bee merry.

But since that wee haue now dined, and the time of each mans taking his The Spanish word is Siesta. nap, drawes on, I will recount another Story vnto you, which this pre­sent occasion represents vnto me: Which for that it is a true one, I doubt not but yee will bee much delighted therewith. They all kindely entertained his proffer; and when he saw they were attentiue to heare him, hee thus began:

The Constable of Castile, Don Aluaro de Luna, in the time of his grea­test Greatnesse (his Honours increasing dayly more and more) residing in A Tale of diuers and sundry acci­dents of Loue. Ualladolid, tooke great pleasure in the Summer to rise betimes in the mor­ning, to goe abroad to vse some exercise, and to take the fresh aire of the fields. And after that hee had beene walking thus abroad, hee vvould (be­fore the Sunne should bee able to offend him) with-draw himselfe home to his house.

But hauing one day amongst the rest inlarged his Walke, and intertai­ned himselfe longer then he was wont to doe, in a pleasant garden, neere ad­ioyning to the Riuer Pisuerga, recreating himselfe in beholding the va­rietie of the Walkes, the beautifull Flowers, the delicate Arbours, the sha­die Trees, and sauourie fruits, the heate entred in so farre, before hee was a­ware of it, that what out of his feare of not returning backe with conue­niencie, and the content that hee tooke in this his sweet and delightfull recreation, hee was resolued to remaine there, and to take his full plea­sure of that place, vntill such time of the euening, as the heates should bee ouer-past.

And whilest his other seruants were busie in prouiding all things necessa­rie for his dinner, that he might the better in the meane while passe away the time, he intreated two Gentlemen, that accompanied him thither, the one Don Luys de Castro; and the other, Don Rodrigo de Montaluo, that each of them would tell him some Loue-Story, whose successe had beene full of dangers, and full of cares, as none could bee greater. For, he very well knew, that these two Gentlemen were the onely Gallants then in Court, and great Louers of Ladies, being both of them, besides Noble in their Name and Blood, discreet, valiant, actiue in their persons, of faire both feature and behauiour, curious in their cloathes, witty in their iests, vn-offensiuely pleasant; in a word, so generally well qualified, and so adorned vvith all those ornaments, that might grace either their speech, or their actions, that they were very well able to giue him that satisfaction vpon this sub­iect, as more could not bee desired. And the better to animate them on he promised, in reward, a rich Diamond Ring, that hee then wore vpon his finger, to him, whose tale, for the strangenesse of the successe, should best [Page 38] deserue it. Don Luys de Castro vvas first to beginne, and thus hee pro­ceeded:

It may bee (my Lord Constable) that other Louers, in the recounting of their misfortunes, goe painting and setting of them forth, with feined sorrowes, Hyperbolicall amplifications, such delicacie of phrase, and tender­nesse of words, to worke compassion; that with the smoothnesse of their stile, and the meltingnesse of their language, they moue many to pitie; and of these in this kinde much hath been written. But that really and truely stript naked of all kinde of dressing, and the neat cloathing of eloquence, there should happen in these present times a businesse of the like nature, as is mine, that I haue now in hand, is a thing impossible. For it is one of the strangest, and the most to be wondred at, of all that euer I yet read, or heard of. And because your Excellencie is to bee my Iudge in this case, I am ve­ry well perswaded you will acknowledge as much, when you know my sufferings.

I loued a certaine Lady of this Kingdome, that was a Virgin, and ful-filled Don Luys de Castro his Loue-Story. with all those laudable and noble qualities, which might be found in any other who-soeuer; being as faire and beautifull, as she was discreet and honest: whereof, (and much more then I will now speake,) I make Don Rodrigo de Montaluo heere present, my Witnesse; as the onely friend, that bare mee company, and was thorowly acquainted with all that which past betweene vs; I seru'd her many, (and those the best part of my yeeres) with that punctualitie and secresie, that there was neuer any the least notice taken of it, yet still obseruing her with that diligence, as the like was neuer knowne; and indeuouring alwayes to giue her all those contents, which she could possibly desire from me. For her I ranne at the Ring, and euer made my selfe one, at the [...]uego de toros, y can̄as, maintained Turneys, and Tiltings, ordained Royall Feasts, and Maskes; and what not? And for to quit all suspition, and to carry the businesse so handsomely, that none might finde me out, and discouer this my loue; nay, that they might not haue any the least presumption thereof; at all these great & solemn meetings, my eyes were neuer placed vpon her, but some other of the Ladies that were there, though shee notwithstanding did really and truely know, that those of my soule vvere neuer off on her, but still waited vpon her, and that shee vvas the sole Mistris of my heart, and that for her sake onely, and none but hers, I inuented all these honourable pleasures, and delightfull intertainments for her.

Vpon these kinde of Feasts and Sports, and other the like occasions, di­rected onely to this end, I spent so much, that I wasted and consumed a great deale of wealth, letting my money fly the faster, in hope it might make her come the sooner; and selling away my possessions, that I might compasse the possessing of her; which was to me a treasure of more worth then all the world besides.

My father (it is well knowne) left mee wonderfull rich, both in goods, and in lands, but in short, I sent it packing; and past away one thing after another, till in the end I became so poore, that your Lordships fauour is the onely prop that doth vphold mee, without the which I must haue falne. And though this (I must tell you) be none of the least griefes, to see a Gen­tleman of such parts and qualities as my selfe, to be outed of all that hee has, to become so poore and needy, that necessitie must tye him to serue, who was wont heretofore to be serued; (howbeit, I acknowledge it a happi­nesse vnto me, that I am your Lordships seruant.) Though I must confesse withall, they are the happier men, and the more beholding to fortune, who A free c [...]tented [...] the best. leade a quiet and secure life, free from other mens commands, not beating their braines, nor breaking their sleepes, in seeking meanes, how to creepe [Page 39] into this mans fauour, or to scrue himselfe into that, or t'other Lords good grace and opinion.

But of all my misfortunes, the greatest that euer befell me▪ and which [...]its closest to my heart, and doth fret the very soule of me, and fill it with anguish, was, That my Mistresse hauing intertained me with false hopes, and vaine promises, vowing, that she would neuer bestow her fauours vpon any other, but that in recompence of my constant loue▪ she would be married vnto me, where-vnto she plighted me her faith and troth. But whether these were the words of a woman, or the workes of my short fortunes; now when she saw my meanes were spent, and my selfe growne poore, vn-mindefull of all those in dearements, vowes and protestations that had past betweene vs, shee shooke off that hand of hers from mine, to whom she had first giuen it, and gaue it to another, and forsaking me, married him; failing (false as she was) in her faith, and qualitie: for scorning my poore condition, and not esteeming those my other good naturall parts, she made choyse of those goods of for­tune, taking a Husband farre vnequall to her selfe; for, as he exceeded in wealth, so he did in yeeres. But such is the force of money, that it can supply all defects, and driue vnequall matches, to draw in one yoke.

Thus haue I briefely discoursed vnto your Lordship touching my loue, shewing you how happy the beginning was, and how disastrous the end. And although (that I might not weary and tyre out your Lordship, I haue beene so briefe, that the shortnesse of my Discourse may seeme to lessen my misfortunes, and the miseries that I then indured;) yet I presume, your Lordships discretion will supply that want, and fully conceiue what, and how great they were; As also take into your consideration, how many trou­bles they haue suffred, and how many perils they dayly runne thorow, who wing their thoughts with [...]uch high-flying feathers, and who vse such great diligence and secrecie in the carriage of their loue, to the end that nothing on their part should be wanting, which they thought belonged to their dutie, in that behalfe. Which my selfe had speciall care of.

I doe not thinke that either Don Rodrigo, or any other Gentleman whatso­euer can instance in a successe of more misfortune then this of mine; for that louing her with that firmenesse and constancie, (as I did) and seruing her with that loue and faithfulnesse, (as none possibly could be more;) I lost my time, I lost my meanes, and last of all (to make the roll of my miseries the fuller) I lost my Mistris. Only there is left vnto me by fortune, (in exchange of these my many mischances) the receiuing of this Ring, by way of reward.

And here Don Luys made an end of his amorous discourses, and Don Ro­drigo de Montaluo entred vpon his, in manner following:

The Ring (Don Luys) is none of yours, you haue lost it, and I ought of right to haue it. And turning himselfe towards the Constable, he thus went on in his speech:

Most noble Sir, Though I confesse that to be true, which Don Luys hath deliuered vnto your Lordship, for that I was an eye-witnesse of all this bu­sinesse, in regard of that great loue and friendship, which was euer betweene vs; yet now at this present, he hath no reason to pretend the Diamond; for if he would but free himselfe of passion, and put on temperate consideration of the pāssages in this his loue, and that he and I might but change places, I doe assure my selfe, that he would iudge this cause in my fauour, and giue sen­tence against himselfe. But being that he is now blinded so with passion, that he can not discerne things with indifferencie; your Excellencie may be pleased to iudge first of his Loue, and afterwards to censure the bad successe of mine: which shall take it's beginning from the end of his, which your Excellencie hath already heard him recount. And thus (may it please you to giue me the hearing) did things passe.

[Page 40] It is not long agoe, that he and I went walking abroad neere to this Riuer side, where now we are, talking and discoursing of some things farre out of the reach of our hopes; when vnlooked for, there came to Don Luys, an ancient seruant belonging to this Gentlewoman his Mistresse, from whom he secretly deliuered him a Letter. Which he hauing opened, and read it o­uer, when he had done, he gaue it me, that I likewise might peruse it. Which I did againe and againe, wondring very much at the Contents thereof. For which cause, (as also hauing a reasonable good memorie,) I carried it all away; which speaketh after this manner:

DEare Sir, you haue little reason to accuse me of ingratitude, only because it seemes vnto you, that you haue some iust cause so to doe. For it is not possible that any one should forget (as you haue thought of me) him, whom he truly loues. And since I know mine owne Obligation, and your constancie, I would haue you likewise to vnderstand (though perhaps you will not acknowledge so much) that I neither now doe, or haue heretofore committed any fault against you. And that my Actions did not correspond with your deserts, the reason was, because they could not stand with that Decorum, which was due to my Mayden-state, and the danger that might insue thereupon. My Marriage with you (which I desired more, then I did mine owne life) the obedience of a Daughter did disturbe, and the Commands and earnest importunities of my Parents, who were violently car­ryed away, moued thereunto by vaine interest, and the Title of a Countesse, which I hold against my will, since they did force me to yeeld my body vnto him, to whom I could neuer surrender my soule, being in condition and yeeres so contrary vnto me, I haue beene yours, I am yours, and shall be yours all the dayes of my life. I shall giue you to vnderstand, that the Count my Husband is to vndertake a long iourney; hasten hit her vnto me as soone as you [...], and bring no other person along with you saue your friend Don Rodrigo. And when you shall come to this Towne, you shall finde in a Heremitage adioyning thereunto, order giuen you for that, which you are to doe. Loue me with all your heart (as you were wont) and as I doe you. And liue you as happily, as I wish you; Concluding my Letter with deare imbracements, which attend your comming.

These were the Contents of the Letter; which Don Luys hauing well seene and considered, did expect nothing lesse, then what was therein contained, which was the only thing he wished and desired aboue all other happinesse in this world. So that if I would, yet I should not be able to expresse vnto you, those amorous passions that he then felt. He read it ouer and ouer, dwelling vpon euery word and sillable of this Letter. He looked vpon eue­ry line, more then once or twice, weigh'd them as a man would weigh gold; and when he had ballanced them in his iudgement, and found they were not light, but bare their full poyze, putting them to his mouth, hee kist them a thousand and a thousand times ouer. Hee first look't earnestly on the Letter, then on the bearer, and my selfe, as if he stood expecting that wee should speake our mindes, and with a loud voyce proclaime the certaintie of this his promised good, and the great content that he tooke in this fortunate, but vnexpected newes. For as yet he doubted thereof: but at last, when he had recollected his spirits, which had beene all this while a wool-gathering, with somewhat a troubled, but more cheerefull countenance, he said vnto me, What is this (Don Rodrigo) that we see? Am I out of my wits? Or is this a dreame? Art thou sure, that it is thee and I, that haue read this Letter? Is this happely the Countesses Letter, this her owne hand? and that, her old Seruant? Doth my iudgement peraduenture faile me? Or, as an afflicted Louer, growing on to desperation, doe I feigne imaginations to my selfe, to deceiue my phantasie?

[Page 41] After that he had thus continued a while, driuen to and fro with these di­stractions, as a Boat that waues this way and that way, hauing the tyde with it, but the winde against it; I assured him, that these were not illusions, or idle apparitions, but things really true, and that carried along with them assured hopes of recouering and inioying his lost Iewell. And thereupon I heartened him on, that he should hasten his departure with all possible speed, that he might comply with that, which his Mistresse had giuen him in charge. This was presently put in execution; for we streight tooke horse, and away we went. And when we came to the Heremitage, we found therein a very graue and reuerend Dame, who, for that she had notice giuen her before hand, of the day and houre that we were to come thither, stayd there, expecting of our comming.

Now, when she knew that we were the men she looked for, she deliuered vs a Message, the effect whereof was this; That her Lord, the Conde, was gone forth vpon his iourney, but was now newly returned, by reason of a certaine indisposition of body that seazed on him vpon the way: But in­treated vs notwithstanding, that we would haue the patience to stay there, till she went to the Palace, to acquaint her Lady the Countesse, of our com­ming▪ She went; we staid; I much amazed, and Don Luys quite out of heart: I for those difficulties, which might offer themselues; He in considering his crosse fortune, which did neuer leaue off to persecute him.

Now, while this good woman was gone vpon her errand, in the meane while, till she should make her returne, we ranne ouer many stories, and I know not what idle tales and discourses▪ which being of different subiects, are not fit to be inter-serted with this that we haue now in hand.

Well, about eleuen a clocke at night, shee came backe a gaine vnto vs, and told vs, we must follow her. We did so. The darkenesse of the night did much befriend vs, so that by this good helpe, she brought vs vnseene, and with much secrecie, into a Lodging in the Palace, where we no sooner were, but the Countesse comes forth, and receiues vs with extraordinary tokens of ioy and gladnesse. And after that some few ceremonies were ended, and that the Para-bienes had past to and fro of this long desired inter-view, which Compliments were very short and briefe, the Countesse said vnto mee, Don Rodrigo; the time, that is now offred vnto vs, to inioy this faire oc­casion, you, in your owne discretion may iudge, how soone it will be gone. You know likewise the obligation of true friendship, and the firme affecti­on, which you haue alwayes made shew to beare vnto Don Luys: but say, this should faile (which I no way mis-doubt,) yet for my sake, who beg it at your hands, your are bound in courtesie to grant me my request. You haue already vnderstood, how the Count my husband not finding himselfe halfe well, returned (being well aduanced on his way) backe from his iourney, who came home so weary, that he presently got him to bed, where I haue left him fast asleepe. But because it may so fall-out, that in turning or waking, hee should stretch out a legge or an arme, towards that side of the bed where I lye, and should finde my place empty, and no body there, it must be a great deale of danger, that I must runne, besides the great scandall, that would grow thereby to the house, that therefore, whilest your friend Don Luys and my selfe shall entertaine the time in talke, (which at the most shall bee but some quarter of an houre, or there-abouts,) you would be pleased to goe lye downe in my place, and remaine there in bed, that I may in the meane­while abide the safer here. And I will assure you on my honest word, that you shall not thereby incurre any danger. For besides that the Count is old, and that he neuer wakes a-nights, vntill it be broad day, and doth seldome or neuer turne aboue once, and then presently fall asleepe againe; Hee is so tyred with his iourney, and of that indisposition of body at this present, [Page 42] that there is no feare to be had, that hee will so much as but offer to stirre, or moue himselfe at all. But say hee should, and that he should turne and touch you, for the foresaid reasons, he will not dreame of any bodies being there but my selfe.

God he knowes (and your Excellencie may conceiue) how much it trou­bled mee, that the Countesse should put mee vpon such a perilous piece of seruice. But because the actions of cowardize are so foule in themselues, and so ill-beseeming a Gentleman, it seemed vnto mee, that if I should now fly off, and refuse to vndergoe this businesse, I should not giue satisfaction ei­ther to mine owne Honour, or my friends Loue, or the Countesses request, I told her, I would very willingly, and with all my heart doe her this seruice: but withall, did very earnestly intreat them, that they would not stay too long in the intertaining of their loues, seeing they were not ignorant of the danger, where-into for their sakes I did thus voluntarily thrust my selfe. They promised, nay swore vnto me, that they would not; and that at the most she would not tarry away aboue halfe an houre.

The Countesse put mee into a night-dressing, and a Smocke: and when I had put off all my cloathes, shee led me along to her With-drawing cham­ber, and afterwards made me to lye downe in her bed. There was no light at all in the Chamber, all was as darke as hell, and in a still silence. I softly laid my selfe downe vpon the very edge and brimme, as it were of the bed, as farre from the Count, as I possibly could deuise, and in that manner, I re­mained there, not a quarter, or halfe part of an houre, but fiue good long houres and more, till it was breake of day.

Now let euery man consider and thinke with himselfe, in what a poore case I was, being in such a place as this, and at such a time; with vvhat a deale of care that I might not be knowne, and with what a deale of feare, lest this deceit should be discouered, and did least of all thinke on that, which did most concerne me, which could bee no lesse then death, if the Count should chance to awake. For in regard that I went in thither naked, and vnarmed, I must fight it out with my fists onely, and try how the strength of my armes would helpe me; and admit I should haue struggled with the Count, and had the fortune to escape his hands, yet could I not those of the seruants of his house, because I knew not how, nor which way to order my flight.

But these were not all the griefes I then indured, they went on a little far­ther. For Don Luys and the Countesse, did laugh and talke so loud, that I might heare euery vvord almost that they said, as I lay in the bed, where-with my feare was much increased lest happely their dis-composed carriage might chance to awaken the Count; and it did mightily vexe me, and almost mad mee, that I could not call vnto them to keepe lesse noise, seeing they would not yet breake company, it grieuing me to the very soule, that they should seeme as forgetfull of themselues, as they were of mee. This made me to bite my fingers ends for very anger; as also, that I durst not for mine eares stirre a [...]ot from the place where I lay for feare of spotting mine honour; and lesse did I dare to call vnto them, for feare of waking the Count.

After all these lingrings, and fearefull passages, when they saw that day was now so nigh, they came both of them laughing hand in hand to the beds side, with a light in their hand▪ (I being frighted almost out of my little wits) where they sportingly frisked and skipped about me, making a great noise, as well with their tongues, as their feet.

Then I beganne to imagine with my selfe, that through too much con­tent, they had both runne madde. So that now, I was as sorry for their mis­fortune, as mine owne; for that the infamie and punishment was like to be generall, and to light vpon vs all, not permitting any to escape; vpon them, [Page 43] for offending; vpon me, for consenting. I was in that pittifull taking, that within a very little space, I had a thousand imaginations in my head, but not one that could doe me any good, or stand me in stead.

And whilest I was thus puzzled, in the midst of my greatest conflict, they drew neerer to the bed it selfe; and the Countesse drawing the Curtaine, that we might now plainely see one another, then was I quite out of my sences; insomuch that I would haue faine fledde away, had I well knowne whither: but I quickly came to my selfe againe. For I, who had hitherto thought, that I had the Count lying by me; the Countesse lifting vp the cloathes of the bed, cleered that errour, and gaue me to vnderstand, that it was not hee, but the Countesses Sister, a pure Virgin, yet as faire as Uenus. Whereat, as likewise the iest, (which I now perceiued they had put vpon me) I was so ashamed, and dasht out of countenance, that for my life I was not able to speake a word, nor knew not what in the world to doe, but to rise vp in my smocke (for in that case was I then) and to get me out to looke my cloathes; so that my feare before was not halfe so much, as my shame was now. Let your Excellencie therefore be pleased now to consider into what danger I did put my selfe, and then to giue your iudgement, which of vs two doth best deserue the Ring.

The Constable, laughing heartily hereat, said in the end, That Don Luys had no reason to complaine of his Loue; seeing, though late, and vvith a great deale of cost and trouble, yet at length hee had obtained his desire; so that hee could not be a deseruer of this promised reward. And Don Rodrigo, as little; for that hee was not in any danger by sleeping with the Count; howbeit, the iest they had put vpon him, was a witty and a good one. And therefore his Sentence was this, that neither of them deserued the Diamond; yet, taking it off from his finger, he consign'd it to Don Rodrigo, with condi­tion that he should send it as a token to this Gentlewoman, by whose side he lay; for that shee onely had incurred the danger, and had also runne the haz­zard of her honour, if she had beene knowne what she was.

With this, they gaue an end to their Loue-Discourses, they all remai­ning very well satisfied. And it being afterwards discussed, vvhether the Constables Sentence were discreet and iust; all the Courtiers highly com­mended it. And so euery mans businesses, calling some one way, some another; this conuersation was broken vp, and taking their leaue of my Lord Embassador, they went whither their occasions call'd them.

CHAPTER V.

THey that write of Lightening, report, (and vvee see the same confirmed by experience,) that so great is its The nature of Lightening. pride, that scorning the vveaker, it workes its effects on the strongest. It breakes the steely hardnesse of the Sword, and leaues the scabberd whole: it splits in sunder, and rendeth vp by the rootes the strong and sturdy Oake; and not once toucheth the feeble and yeelding Cane. It ouer-turnes the tops of your high­est Towers, and leuelleth your stately buildings with the ground; and par­doneth your poore Shepheards humble Cottage, that is made of ill compo­sed twigges. It killeth your biggest beasts, and cracketh man, as if hee were but Potters Clay in pieces; it bruiseth and breaketh the bones, and leaues the cloathes vntoucht; it melteth Siluer, Gold, Metall, and Money, and yet hurts not the Purse vvherein it is put. And albeit, it be of this proud nature and haughty condition, yet is its force broken, in its comming to ground. This onely is that, which makes its resistance against it. And there­fore, in such tempestuous times, those that doe feare its terrible effects, doe vse to get themselues into Caues, or to hide themselues deepe vn­der ground, because that they know, they are there safe and free from danger.

The violence of Youth is such, that wee may truely compare it vnto Lightening; for it neuer bends its force against things that are fragile, soft, The violence of youth, compared vnto Lightening. and gentle; but doth commonly aspire to things of greatest difficultie, and such as are beyond all reason of atchieuement; it obserueth no Law; it ex­cuseth no kinde of Vice; it is a Horse that runnes on in his Carreere, without The defects and various effects of youth. an eye to its way, or once thinking on the place, or the end, where he is to take vp himselfe, and make his stop. It alwayes followes its owne furie; and like an vntamed Colt, will not suffer himselfe to bee saddled by reason; and without it, disturbs both himselfe and others, not induring any bur­then, bee it neuer so light: In such sort it flyes out, that it will not (no though you let it haue its owne will) be at quiet with it selfe. And yet this being so furious a beast, as wee haue heere set forth vnto you, it is onely corrected by humilitie; this (and nothing but this) tames and keepes it in order. This is that earth, against which its force cannot preuaile; this that Dock, that driues out the Nettle; and this that Fort, where it findes its safety. Insomuch, that there is not any good to bee hoped from that young man, who shall not be humble. For that youth in it selfe is the en­trance to euill, and the doore that opens vnto sinne.

I was wantonly bred vp, suffered too much to haue mine owne will: I I [...] [...], the cause of all Vice. would not indure reproofe, much lesse correction. And for that Wise­dome is the Daughter of Experience, which is gotten by the trans-cursion of Time, it was not much, that I should erre as being a Youth. But that hauing befalne me (which you heard before) in the loue that I made at Ma­lagon, See the first Part. and Toledo: And being that I should, like the Dogge which is scal­ded [Page 45] with hot, feare also cold water; after all these faire warnings, it may He is a foole, that makes [...] a prey to Women. seeme somewhat strange, you will say, that I should giue any more credit vn­to women, and that I should suffer my selfe to be taken anew in their snares. That I should be such an Asse, as not to know, by my many the like experi­ences, that they alwayes goe subtilly to worke with vs, and deale deceitful­ly; which must either be imputed to our too much simplicitie, or must otherwise be attributed to the intemperate passion of our appetite. And would to God this foolishnesse of mine might here make it's stop, and here in this Port set vp my Plus vltra, by erecting the pillars of my wofull proofes, and often skarrings, without (as you shall see here-after) my frequent fal­lings into the like weaknesses; being vnable to make my vaunt, that I had once got of them by the hand, and made my party good with them. But because he that loues, doth alwayes make a free donation to the partie, whom he loueth, of his will, and of his senses, it is no maruell, if being stripped of them, multiplying my errours, I commit a thousand foo­leries.

My Lord Embassadour fell in loue with a principall Gentle-woman, nobly descended, whose name was Fabia; her husband, a Gentleman of Rome; be­fore A story of the French Embassa­dours loue. whose house I did often vse to walke; whereof, no small notice was ta­ken, and he himselfe began to conceiue some suspition of me, though with­out any iust cause; for the for her part neuer gaue consent thereunto. But be­cause euery man may loue, protest, and runne his head, if he will, against a Wall, and none shall hinder him; my Master did that, which his passion did dictate vnto him, and she, that which was befitting both her owne, and her husbands honour.

True it is, that we were not so blinde, that we could not see thorow the Prouerb. holes of a No estaua­mos tan çie­gos, que dex­assemos de ver por la tela de vn çedaço. The greatest ene­mies, that a faire woman hath. siue; for although we were depriued of the cleerer kinde of light, yet we had some glimpse and glimmering thereof, though it were but little. Her husband was old, poore, and ill accoutred; three strong and po­werfull enemies against a woman, that was young faire, and well brought vp. For these reasons, and by the helpe of a Maid of hers (which had beene a Virgin heretofore) but was now my sweet-heart, and mine owne deare Loue, I was verily perswaded, what by the meanes that she, and what by those, that my selfe should vse, as also by making benefit of the fore-said oc­casions, we should easily get the game. But who, (saue such an vnlucky and vnfortunate Rogue, as my selfe) could haue lost so faire a set, hauing such store of sound Trumpes, and other good Cardes in my hand? But I had wonder­full crosse-Carding, and euery tricke that I plaid, fell out to the worst; so that, No es todo façil, quant o lo pareçe; A man may be deceiu'd, when he thinkes Prouerb. himselfe most sure. Vertue will trip vp the heeles of Vice, and winne the Goale away from him, play he neuer so cunningly; Nor is there any thing in the world, that can make a vertuous woman to spot her honour.

When this Gentlewoman vnderstood, what had passed betwixt my selfe and her seruant, she began to deuise with her selfe, how she might be reuen­ged on vs both, without any hurt to her selfe, but as much preiudice as might be, both to my person, and the plot that was laid betweene vs, for the effect­ing of my Lords desires. And this she did the rather. for that she saw, that her waiting-Gentlewoman, for my sake, did so earnestly sollicite this cause, and that for my interest, and to doe me a pleasure, she did follow this businesse with all care and diligence, taking her fit times to put her often in minde thereof, not suffring a Card to passe without a Vic, and some-times making The wickednes of some seruants. many false ones, vsing many other tricks, as she was well skill'd in them, and knew handsomely how to put them home: Insomuch, that when this honou­rable Matrone saw, she could not be in quiet for her, but was thus hardly set vpon in her owne house, and barked at abroad in the street by a company of [Page 46] malicious mouthes, she made no Vociferations, nor Out-cryes, no squeamish replies, no cunning impostures, which some women vse to doe, for to qualifie their honestie, that vnder that shield, they may euer after the more safely offend. For, an honest woman will, by honest meanes, manage her affaires; not beating the ayre with her clapper, nor ringing out the bell that hangs in her mouth, so loud, that all men may heare the sound thereof, and censure her accordingly, and giue euery one occasion thereby to construe her Actions, as they list themselues. For in regard the good are the fewest, the most doe iudge amisse: And the reason of this ill is, because they themselues bee ill. And this common voyce choaketh a good name, as your Tares doe come.

Now, as this Gentle-woman was a Romane, so did she performe a Romane Act. She knowing, that we went about to worke her ouerthrow, she wisely The discreet car­riage of a wo­man tempted to [...]dnesse. sought to preuent it, seigning her selfe to be somewhat touched with Loues passion, and that she was now vpon the point of yeelding, if not wholly ouercome.

One day, when as her Maid was making of her ready, and was instant with her in this businesse, looking vpon her with a smiling and cheerefull counte­nance, she said vnto her, Nicoleta, (for so was she called) I assure thee, that if thou hadst not wrought vpon me, vsing so many strange inuentions, and hadst not spent so many elaborate and well studied words in this suit of thine, thou hadst e're this made that will of mine to yeeld, which hath hitherto stood out so long. For I wish well vnto Guzman, and approue his discreet procee­ding in this businesse. Besides, his Master is of that merit, that any woman whatsoeuer, be she of neuer so honourable qualitie, without being so much sollicited, as I haue beene, ought to imbrace his loue and friendship, and offer her seruice vnto him. But as thou thy selfe both knowest, and seest, I doe not know how it will be possible, that this our Treaty shall be secure from scan­dalous tongues, being that now vpon no iust cause giuen, and I for my part hauing as yet yeelded no consent vnto that, which perhaps I so much desire, that is whispered already in euery corner, nay thorow all Rome, which nei­ther in mine owne house, nor with thee, (which canst only be the instrument of our pleasures) did I euer yet communicate. And since it is now come to this passe, that the popular voyce runneth on with so great libertie, and that I am not able any longer to hold out in withstanding the loue of this noble Gentleman, all that I will intreat at thy hands, is; that thou wilt dispose and order it, with the greatest secrecie that may be. Speake therefore to Guzman, that he waite and attend here-abouts for some few nights, for I will finde op­portunitie some one night or other, to giue him entrance, that I may see him, and talke with him concerning the carriage of our loues.

Nicoleta fell downe vpon her knees to the ground, not knowing, which she should kisse first, her feet or her hands, with a face set all on fire with too much ioy: for a great while together, she neuer left giuing of her thankes, qualifying the easinesse of effecting it, and disgracefully laying open the faults of her old Master. Then did she reduce vnto her remembrance those former distastes, which she had receiued from him; in what wretched estate, through his miserie, she liu'd in; his base kinde of carriage, and what drie fodderings he did giue her, and all, that she might incourage her the more to goe brauely on in this her resolution, which she did simply beleeue, she had now entred into.

Hereupon she came forth-with flying vnto me, flinging her armes abroad, and strongly twining them about my necke, she claspt me as hard as she could for her life, demanding A reward for good newes. Albriçias at my hands. Which when she had re­ceiued, she would relate vnto me what had past betweene her and her Mi­stresse. I tooke her by the hand, leading her along with me, (as those that carry with them the spoyles and trophees of some famous victorie) into my [Page 47] Masters withdrawing Chamber, where, with a great deale of ioy wee cele­brate this gladsome newes; plotting and contriuing with our selues touching the houre, how and where I might best finde entrance to speake with Fabia. And my Master giuing to Nicoleta a little Purse which he had in his Pocket, cramm'd with Spanish Pistolets, she made as if she were vnwilling to take them of him, but did not all this while cloze her fist, nor pull backe her hand, but out of modestie held it betweene forward and backward like a Phisici­an, when he is offred more then his fees, and with a iocund smile, gaue him thankes for this his courteous liberalitie; and with this, she tooke her leaue both of him and me. But my Master continued with me, rendring me an ac­count of his loue, and I giuing him the Para-bien thereof, in which kinde of discourse, and the like, we spent all that Euening. And when it was night, at the appointed houre, I tooke vp my standing, gaue the watch-word, and made such signes, as were ordred betweene vs, but neither that night, nor some three or foure more following, could this agreement made betweene vs, take effect.

One day amongst the rest, there hapned to fall a small, but withall a shrewd driuing raine, wherein at my wonted houre I was to make my accustomed Prouerb. walke, being dabbled (as they say) vp Con lodos, hasta la cinta. to the girdle. I came thither reasonable well wet, the night being very darke, which suited not amisse with my for­tunes. It was my hap (but would to God it had neuer hapned) to haue the end of my desires. And for that, in things of interest, and matters that con­cerne our pleasure and content, it importeth much, to cast off all feare, and to vndergoe all difficulties with a daring resolution, I did shew more courage at that time, then became discretion, in that I was so forward to come to the Call, beating my fore-head against the Walls and corners of the house, when the raine powred downe on my head from heauen, and my feet stood vp to the ankles in durt. As soone as I had giuen the signe, it was knowne who was there, yet notwithstanding they made me to waite a good while in the raine, till I was so thorow-wet, that the water that came in at my Pole, dropt out at my knees, and went guttring downe into my shooes: and then at last, after I had beene a long time in this cold bath, they called vnto me, and wil­led me to haue the patience to stay yet a little longer.

In the end, when all my cloathes and my selfe were dung-wet, and that I had not a drie thred about me, I might perceiue the doore to open very softly, and Nicoleta to call vnto mee. And then (mee thought) that very breath which came from that voyce, brought that comfortable heate with it, that I was thorow-drie all ouer on the sudden. Now did I no more thinke on my fore-passed troubles, being cheered vp with the sight of the (a) Fre­gonçilla (b) A Maid ser­uant, that wa­shes and starches, and does the like seruices of kee­ping all things cleane. Muget de bu­en fregado. La dishonesta que se refriega con todos. Couarruuias. p. 413. of my soule, and the comfortable hope of inioying the beloued Fabia. Nicoleta and I exchanged but a few words; for she had scarce bid mee wel­come, when lo, her Mistresse came downe, and calling to her seruant, said; Doe you heare (Nicoleta?) Get you vp, and see what your Master is a doing, and if he chance to aske for me, come and call me, whilest I in the meane­while stay talking here with Sen̄or Guzman.

Now, all this interim we were in the darke, so that we could scarce discerne one another, and if we did, it was as much as possibly we could doe. Then did she begin to question me concerning my health, and how it was with me, as if she had seemed to wish very well vnto me, or as if my welfare had beene a matter of importance, and much to her contentment. I replyde vnto her with the like demand. That compliment performed, I deliuered her a large message from my Master, in acknowledgement of those many thankes which he did owe vnto her, for the vndeserued fauours which she had vouchsafed to shew vnto him, and how great a seruant hee was of hers, inlarging this Theame with an elegant Oration, which I had studied of purpose only to [Page 48] this end. But before I was come to the conclusion thereof, and when I was in the greatest force of this Argument, and my words began to gather strength for the gaining of her good will, I could not fasten her farther at­tention, nor like Waxe, worke her as I would; because she seeming to be a­mazed and startled with some sudden perturbation, abruptly said vnto me:

Sen̄or Guzman, as you loue my life, let mee intreat you to hold me ex­cused; for with a conceiued feare, that at this present instant hath seazed Guzman nota­bly mocked by Fabia: And in what manner. vpon mee, me thinkes, euery bodies eye is vpon mee, all in the house watch and obserue me. And therefore for Gods sake, let me intreat you to enter in heere this way, and there right ouer against you, you shall finde a lod­ging Chamber, get you quickly into that, and tarry there till I haue giuen a turne or two about the house, to see if the coast bee cleere, and all my peo­ple safe, and I shall presently returne againe vnto you; but I pray haue an especiall care in the meane while, that you stand still, and make not any the least noise in the world. I gaue credit vnto her, and went straight on as she had directed mee, and thinking that I had gone athwart a little open entry, making more haste then good speed, I lighted ere I was aware, into a huge The Spanish word, is patio. la parte de la casa des cubi­erta. Couarru. verb. Patio. beastly Hog-sty, that stood in a filthy durty Court, where I had no sooner gone some two or three steps, but I stumbled (through too much haste) vpon a great dung mixen, and fell with my head iust against the wall, giuing my selfe such a sound knocke, that I lay there for a while senselesse. But with that little life that was left me, by little and little I came to my selfe againe, and scrambling vp as well as I could, I went groping along the walles with my hands (as children doe that play at Blind-man-buffe) to see if I could finde out this appointed Chamber: but I could finde no other out-let, saue that whereby I had made my entrance. I rounded it once againe, imagining with my selfe, that by reason of my new receiued blow, I could not haply meet with it so vpon the sudden.

And wandring thus vp and downe this Maze, it was my hap to light vpon a little narrow Lane, as it were, whereat there was no going forth, hauing a house of Office at the end of it, ill couered, and that not whol­ly neither ouer-head, where vvas onely the t'one halfe of an old broken great Pitcher, which was full of Ordure, beeing fixed fast to the ground, and beastly berayd round about, yeelding no very sweet sent, whereby I began to coniecture the danger I was in, and to consider with my selfe the many mis-fortunes that had befalne me.

Well, when I saw how the world went, I sought to get out where I came in: but I found the doore was shut fast vpon mee, and that there was no hope of getting forth. It rained extremely, and showred downe so fast vpon me, that I was forced to shelter my selfe vnder that poore miserable old ruinous open, I cannot tell whether I should tearme it rather Houell, then House, standing vp to the knees in durt, whose perfume was none of the pleasingest.

There did I passe ouer the remainder of that night, which vvas farre worse, then that I indured at Toledo, and of no lesse perill to my person, then These two mis­fortunes of his are mentioned in the first Part. that which I was put to in the house of the proud Genoues, my kinsman, Nor was it onely the falling of the raine, that did now afflict mee, which came not drizling or mizling downe vpon mee; but with a full and open gutter, and when at least, with drops as bigge as Pease. But I beganne to thinke with my selfe what should become of mee; for I could not but ima­gine, that she that had made that Mouse-trap for me ouer-night, would the next morning deliuer me ouer to the Cat.