THE WIL OF WIT, Wits Will, or Wils Wit, chuse you whether.
Containing fiue discourses, the effects whereof follow.
Reade and iudge.
Compiled by Nicholas Breton. Gentleman.
LONDON Printed by Thomas Creede. 1597.
To Gentlemen, Schollers, and Students, whatsoeuer.
GEntlemen, or others, who imploy your time in the studies of such Arts, as are the Ornaments of Gentility, to your courtesies I commēd the vnlearned discourse of my little wit, which as I will not intreate you to commend, deseruing the contrarie: so I hope you will not disdaine, though it deserue discommendation, but so by your pardons, excuse my small discretiō by great desire, that here [...] with lesse haste, I may take as great care as paines, to publish a peece of worke, somewhat more worth the perusing. Till when, wishing you all the fauor of God, with good fortune of the world, I rest in honor of learning to you and all Students.
The Epistle to the gentle Reader.
A New Booke saies one, true, it came forth but tother day, good stuffe saies an other. Read, then iudge. I confesseit may seeme to a number, a bolde attempt, to set out a forme of wit, considering the witty discourses, of such fine wits as haue deserued such cōmēdation, as may driue this meane peece of woorke of mine into vtter disgrace, were it not that perfect courtesie dooth beare with imperfect knowledge, regarding more the good minde in the writer, then the matter written, and therefore the best will giue good woords, whatsoeuer they think, to incourage a forward will to doo better, when indeede it were a fantasticall heade that coulde doo worse. VVell when VVit is a wool-gathering, and VVill wandring, the worlde without guide, what a case that manne is in, that is in such a taking I referre you to madde folkes, of whome you maye see examples sufficient, and so I beeing in a certaine melancholye moode, past all Gods forbod, tooke my Pen and Inke and paper, and somewhat I would goe doo, whatsoeuer it were, to put out one conceit, and bring in an other, at last, and at first, of a suddaine, vnwares, and at aduentures, by Gods [Page] good helpe, and good fortune, the litle wit that I had, meeting with good Will, I knew not how, fell to worke, (at first) I know not what, but hauing written a while, I made somewhat of it, which though litle to any great purpose, yet, if it please the readers, I am contented, & if any man thinke it well done, then Wit shall thinke Will a good boy, and Will shall thinke he tooke Wit in a good vaine, and Will and Wit shall haue the more heart heereafter, to fall to further woorke, but if I haue bin more wilfull then wise, to trouble your wi [...]tes, with a witlesse peece of worke, pardon me for this once, ye shall see I wil please you better heereafter, in the meane time desiring your courtesies to commend what you thinke worthie, and not to disdain without desert, I rest, wishing your content in what you wish well, as I pray you wish me as I doo you.
Ad Lectorem, de Authore.
Ad lectorem, de Authore.
A pretie and wittie Discourse, betwixt Wit and VVill.
LOng haue I trauailed, much grounde haue I gone, many wayes haue I trode, mickle money haue I spent, more labor haue I lost, in seeking an old friend of mine: whose cōpanie so courteous, his counsaile commodious his presence so pleasant, and his absence so graeuous, that when I thinke of him, and misse him, I find such a misse of him, as all things are out of frame with mée. And out of frame, can come to no good fashion. Oh what shall I doo? It is long since I lost him: long haue I sought him. And too long (I feare) it will be ere I finde him? But wot you who it is? Oh my wit, I am from my Wit, and haue beene long. Alas the day. I haue bin almost madde, with marching through the world, without my good guide, my freende, and Companion, my Brother, yea, my selfe. Alas, where is hee? When shall I sée him? How shall I séeke him, and whither shall I walke? I was too soone wearie of him, and am now weary of my selfe without him. Well, I will goe where I may, I may hap to finde him: but hap is vnhappie. Therefore hap good, or happe ill, I will walke on still: if I finde him, happy man. If I doo not, what than? Content my selfe euen as I can, Patience where is no remedy.
Long haue I lookt, far haue I sought, oft haue I wisht, and sore haue I longed for my merry mate, my quicke sprite, my dearling, and my dearest byrde: Whose courtesie so contentiue, whose helpe so necessary, whose necessitie [Page] so great, whose presence so pleased mee, and absence so angers mee: that when I would haue him, and see, I am without him: I am not in order, and being out of order, can take no good course. Alas what shall be [...]ide mée? I haue lost my loue, or my loue hath lost mee. Would God wee might meete againe, and be merry togither: which I cannot bée without him. Oh what haue I lost? my Will, Whither is he gone? when will he returne? who hath led him away? or will bring him backe againe? what company is he fal [...] into? or how doth he leade his life? Well, time yet may turne him. Till when I wishe for him, heping to meete him, but hope is vncertaine: yet hope well, and haue well. Thus alone I cannot dwell, if I finde him so it is: if not, then [...]wis, I must be content with this. Patience is a vertue. But whome doo I beholde so neere? It is my Will, with heauie cheere: well, I am sory for this gea [...]e. Yet will I to him out of hand, and knowe, howe so the case dooth stand. What? Will?
Who? Wit?
Whither away?
Where I may.
Whereto?
Oh to doo.
What?
Teach thou me that.
Why, sighe not boye?
Oh all my ioye.
Where is it VVill?
Among the ill.
What? Is it lost?
That greeues me most.
And not to be recouered?
Oh my heart is almost dead.
What? Will? Holde vp head. I will be thy friend to death.
Thē giue me leaue to fetch my breath. And welcome, twise and thrise well met: where my hearts ioy is set. Many a walke haue I fet, but no comfort could I get, till now by thee mine onely friend, with whome I meane my life to ende. If thou wilt giue me leaue good wit.
Yes good sweete will, and glad of it.
Then harke good wit vnto my tale: not of amidde my blisse in bale, nor any such like stuffe so stale. I studie not to talke in verse, but I will vnto thee rehearse, a plaine discourse, in homely prosse, wherein I will at large disclose: How I [Page 2] haue liued, with whome, and where: how I was tossed, heere and there. How I did chaunce to trauaile hyther, and so we will be merry togither.
Contented. Uerse is good sometime, but sometime presse, and sometime ryme. But be it eyther prosse or verse, what so thou wilt, good will rehearse: I meane to heare it to the ende. And quit thee quickly as a friend. But since thou likest prosse so well, begin in prosse thy tale to t [...]l.
Willes Tale.
OH good wit, (if thou doost remember,) I lost thée in trauaile to the Well of Wisedome. Since when, I haue wandred through a wildernesse of woe, (which in the Mappe of that Countrey (I finde) is called the Desart of Desire. Wherein I sawe so many wayes, as new in this, and then in that. [...]t last I came to the hill of ha [...]de Happe, which ledde mee downe into a Uale of Uanitie. There did I liue in the Lake of Miseries, with the lost people, that hauing followed Fancie, found Penitence, the reward of running heades. But Lord, what a life it is? I lothe to thinke on it. Beleeue mee sweete wit, there is such falling out with Fancie, who shiftes all vpon Folly. Such exclamation vpon Folly, who bringes them to Fortune: such cursing and banning of Fortune, for her froward dealing: in gentle helping them vppe vppon the wheele, and then suddaine dinging them downe (almost to theyr destruction,) that if there bee a Hell in this worlde, there is the place. God keepe all good mindes from such a [...]thy corner.
Amen. But tell me [...]w ca [...]st thou thence?
I will tell you anon: [...]ut first I will tell you more. There is of all States, Princes crye out of cares: Lordes, of lacke of liuing: Ladyes, o [...] false Loue: Souldiours of want of paye: Lawyers, of quiet: Poore men, of Lawe: Merchauntes, of shipwracke: Marriners, [Page] of scule weather: Usurers, of Sermons, and Diuines of Usurie: Players, of Preachers, and Preachers of Pl [...]yers: Dicers, of loosing, and losers o [...] Dicing: Cryples, of fighting, and fighters of hurtes: the Rich, of sicknesse: the Poore, of want: the Sicke, of paine: the healthfull, of ill happe: the vnhappie, of the time that euer they were borne. Oh, it is a pittious crie: I would not be there againe, to heare it as I haue done, for the gaine of Europe.
Beléeue me, I cannot blame thee: but tell me, how camst thou thence?
Oh brother, I will tell you how: you knowe, sometime trauailers must néedes haue rest, which they must come by, as they may: Now I hauing walked, (as I tolde you) through this vnpleasant place: weary at last, I layde me downe in the ditch of Distresse, where, finding many dead skulles, and other boanes, I there thought to beginne a sléepe, or sleepe my last: now lying there, in such sorte as I tell you, mée thought in my sléepe I sighed, in which sorrow, a good motion of minde, set my heart to prayer: which tended to this effect, that it would please, the mightie and mercifull Maiestie, of the most highest, to sende me some meane, to leade me out of this miserie: beeing as it were from my Wit, and altogither comfortlesse. Now suddainly there appeared vnto me, an olde aged man, who tooke me by the hand, with these words: Arise thou sluggish wanton, walke no longer out of thy way: turne thee backe from this straye pathe, experience doth teach thée: what is VVill without VVit? Prayer hath procured thee pardon, the high and onely God hath giuen thée Grace, by Grace goe seeke, that is worth the finding: looke where VVit is too him, and make much of him: With ioye of that worde, I awaked, and with shame of my Folly in leauing thee, I hung the head: with sorrowe whereof, I was almost of life depriued: but now by thy sweete welcome, wholy reuiued: now awake (I shoulde say) I sawe none but thee: and now while I liue, I will followe thée.
Why, was it heere you slept, or haue you come farre since you waked?
No, no, heere did I sleepe, héere is the place of paine so vnpleasant: but nowe I sée thee, I haue receiued comfort, for that I know thou canst leade me to Wisedome, who will soone shew me the way to Paradise.
Why then will, well hast thou slept, better hast thou dreamed, but best hast thou waked, to hit on mée so happily, who intende to bring thee to that good beginning, that shall leade thee to endlesse blisse. But to quit thy tale, I will tell thée a little of my trauaile, and so we will away togither.
Wits Tale.
WIll: thou knowest when I left thée, in the lane of learning, I went on straight to the schoole of Uertue, and with her Testimoniall, to the Well of Wisedome, which standes within the Pallace of Patience: where I found the Fountaine kept with foure Ladies, whose names were Wisedome, Temperance, Fortitude, and Iustice: now when I came thither with suffient warning from Uertue: yet (for order sake) they thus vsed me: wisedome, which stood with a Snake in her hand, (ouer whose head was written) I see the holes that subtill Serpents make, thus vsed her warie spéech vnto me: Sirra (quoth she) how, presume you into this place? frō whence came you, and how and whither will you? Lady, (quoth I) from Fancies Forte I came, and am now trauailing to the Forte of Fame: I came now directly from the Schoole of Vertue: brought thither by Learning, had by reason, seruant to instruction: and héere beholde Patience, who hath lead me, who is further to pleade for me: Welcome (quoth shée) but art thou not wearie? no (quoth I) nor would be, if the walke had béene longer, to haue my will.
Why didst thou thinke me there abouts? oh Lord I was far wide.
Peace VVill a while: when [Page] I denide wearinesse: Yea (quoth Fortitude) an other of the [...] (ouer whose head was written, I yeelde to good, but ouerthrowe the ill.) I will see if you be weary or not, I must trie a fall with you. [...]t first I made no account of her, but when I begunne, I sound her of great force. Yet in the ende, shee was content to giue mee ouer and let me come n [...]re the W [...]ll. Nowe vppon the Well brinkes stoode Iustice, ouer whose heade was written: My hande hittes right, Death is my stroke, my ballance wil not lye. Then was my wordes written downe by Memorie, and weyed with Truth: which beeing euen in iudgement, shee [...]ad mee welcome: and so was content, to let me lay my lippes to the sweet lye quor of Sapience. Oh it is a delicate Water.
Nowe as I stoode, I heard a Trumpette sounde, which done, I heard a voice which said: VVhat Trompe can soūd the true report of Fame? Now desirous to see y• place, whence I heard this sound, I craued the Ladies pasport to the saide place: who gaue me no other pasport, then the cō maundement of Patience: warning me in any wise, to take holde of Time, when I met him: and turne him to my vse: with these two, I should come to the sort afore me. I right glad of my good happe, tooke leaue, and forth I went: anon I met Maister Time, with his Sithe in his hand: singing Saue Vertue, all things I cutte downe, that stand within my way. But as he came working, I watcht him neare, and as he strooke aside, I suddeinly stept to him, tooke him by the no [...]le, and turnde him to my worke. What wouldest thou (quoth he?) I must not stand idle: no (quoth I) thou shalt walke, and leade me to the Fort of Fame. Come then (quoth he) goe away, softly (quoth Patience) content (quoth I) and so togither we go to this stately Court: where being first entertained by Courtly, we were brought to Fauour, and so led vp to Fame. Now being on knee before her highnesse, shée first gaue me her hand to kisse: and willed the Lordes to bid me welcome: see héere (quoth shee) the perfection [Page 4] of affection, what a trauaile he hath vndertaken onely for our fauour, which he shall be sure off. The Nobles vsed me honourably, the Gentlemen courteously, the Seruants reuerently, and Fa [...]our fréendly. Now as I stood, I heard such swéete Musick, such heauenly songs, it made my heart leape to heare them: The Prince did sing in praise of Peace, the Lordes of Plentie, the Ladies of true Loue, the Lawiers of Quiet, the seruaunts of Lawe, the Merchauntes of Sayling, and Saylers of faire weather, the Rich of Health, the Poore of Charitie, the Healthfull of good happe, and the happie of Gods blessing: there was no Usurers, Dicers, Players, nor fighters hearde off. Oh, there was a place of pleasure: if in the world there bee a Paradize, that was it: Oh that thou haddest beene with mée.
So would I, but tell mée, he we came you againe?
I will tell thée: When I had beene within, and without, and heard such sweete Hermony, of such singuler Musicke: at last, I came downe into the base Court, [...] by Fauour, to a lodging, which was called the counting house: there sate Memorie, to take the names o [...] such as had [...] entertained, and meant to s [...]ke fauour, at the handes of happy Fame. But as I was going through the Court, I mette one of the Maides of Honour attend [...]unt vpon the Princesse, whose name (Fauour tolde mee) was Be [...]lezza, accompanied with Gentilezza, an other o [...] the [...]. Nowe as I was walking, I feared s [...] earnestly an them, that (not looking to my [...]) I stumbled [...], and with the fall I awaked, now awake, I thought of my good Will: and see how soone it was my happe to meete with [...] ▪ but no sooner then I wished for thee, nor then I am heartily glad of thee.
Gramer [...]y wit. But yet I beshrowe thee?
Why so?
For loosing mee.
Thou mightest haue [...].
You might haue helde me.
When?
When I was neere you.
Where was that?
Where you lost me: But tel me one thing, where was it you slept, and awaked so so [...]ainely? What? was it héere abouts?
Yea, heere Will, heere, heere is the Forte of Fame, as thou shalt finde, when thou hast beene with me a while: there is no house, but hath a sinke: no h [...]ld so fayre but hath a foule d [...]tch: no place so pleasant, but hath a corner of anoyance: he that runnes retchlesly, falles headlong: and hee that is in a hole, he knowes not how, must come out he knowes not when. Care is to be had in all things, at all times, and in all places: well, thou hast knowne some sorrowe: learne to leaue selfe-iudgement: follow friend, go with me.
Why? I would neuer haue lost th [...], but.
But that thou wert wearie of me.
Why? I was not wearie but.
No, but that you were a wanton.
Why? I was not a wanton but.
No, but that you were wilfull.
Why? I was not wilfull but.
No, but that you thought better of your selfe then any else.
Why? but I did not thinke so, but.
Nay, you may say you would not haue thought so, but.
But what? or why?
But because you did not see your selfe.
Yes indeede, but I did: I did sée my selfe and you too.
Indeede, but you did not: for if you had seene me, you would not so haue lost mee.
Yes, but I did see you, but when I had looked on you a while, I looked on my selfe so long, till you were out of sight, and then I looked after you and could not sée you.
Well, but then you sawe mee not, and so you lost mee: but since you now haue sound me, follow me néere, stay but a Buts length behinde mée, least I suddainely steppe a flights shotte before you, and then a furlong further, you neuer ouertake mee.
But soft, runnes wit so fast, will is wearie.
Goe too, throwe off your clogge of care, trust to me, so you do as I bid you, all shall bee well.
Yes, but.
But? What?
But a ltttle of your helpe.
Yes, but.
But? [Page 5] What?
But that you must of your selfe labour.
So I will but.
But not too much: well, contented, I will worke. Wilt thou helpe?
Yea willingly.
How long?
Till death.
Why, wilt thou dye?
Not with working: yet will I worke sore.
Whereto?
to winne my wishe.
What that?
You can tell.
But tell mee.
What?
Is it Fauour?
That is one parte of it.
Wealth?
An other parte.
Honour?
The greatest next.
Content.
All in all.
Where?
In heart.
Howe?
By happe.
Howe that?
By Hope?
Oh, Hope is vaine.
Oh, doo not discomfort mee.
Doubt the worst.
Wherefore?
Because I bid thée.
Why doo you bid mée?
For this reason: the best will helpe it selfe.
What is the worst?
Enuie.
What will hee doo.
Mischiefe.
To whome?
To good mindes.
Howe shall I doo then?
Let Patience vse Prayer, God will preserue his seruants.
That I shall: Then it is not impossible?
What?
To gette Content?
It is harde.
What then?
Doo our best.
Content.
But harke wil: shall I tell thee a little more of the Fort of Fame: What I sawe, and heard before I came away, ouer the gate at the entrie, I sawe written, pretie Posies, some in Latine, some in Italian, some French, and some English. In Latine I remember these: Quid tam difficile quod non solertia vincit? By that was written, Labore vertus: And by that, vertute Fama: And ouer that, Fama immortalis: And that was written, in many places about the house. In Italian was written, Giouentù vecchezza: by that, vecchezza Morte, et Morte Tempo, et tempo Fama: but ouer all, sopra tutti, triumpha Idd [...]o. In French, Le sol Fortune, il prudēt Fame▪ Fame est diuine, duinitie, est pretieuse, Dieu est nostre guarde. In English [Page] was writtē. Patience is a vertue. Vertue is Famous. Fame is diuine. Diuinitie is gratious. Grace is the gift of God: And God is the onely giuer of grace. Which by Patiēce seekes the vertue y• is Famous to the diuine pleasure of the giuer of all good gifts: Blessed be his name, this shal he find, that enters Fort of Fame.
Oh swéete spéeches.
Then will I tel thée further, as I walked vp & down with Fauour, I heard Courtesie & Content, (a couple of Courtiers) discoursing of thée and mée. Of the Uertues of wit, and the vanities of will.
Wit, they sayde, was desirous of knowledge, but Will could take no paine: wit would haue Patience, but will would be wood with anger: wit would worke, when wil would stand ydle: wit would bee walking, when will woulde bee slouthfull: wit woulde call for willes helpe, when will cared not for wits counsaile: wit woulde bee wise, and wil would be wanton: wit would be Uertuous, and wil vaine: vvit would be Famous, and vvil foolish: vvit would be sober, and vvil frantick: vvit would be carefull, and vvill carelesse: wit studying, and will playing: vit at good exercise, and wil idle, and worse occupied: wit mourning for wil, wil making no mone for wit: VVit in his dumps, and wil in delights: wit would doo well, and haue wil doo no worse, if he would followe him. But wil would loose wit, and wit must worke without wil and against wil: and yet this is straunge, they were sworne Brethren, one could not be without the other. Yet wit could make better shift alone: wit could finde wil, when he had lost himselfe, and wil (yet) would please wit well, when hee would bee a good boye: Which he would neuer be, till he were beaten, and y• with the smart of his owne rod: then he would come home to wit, follow wit as his best freend, and neuer leaue him to the last houre.
Nowe when I heard this discourse, I remembred thée, and béeing able to tarie no longer, the hearing of such matter, against him whom I loue, I entreated Fauour to [Page 6] bring mée forth into the Court, towardes the Countinghouse: whither walking, I stumbled by the way, and fell as I tolde you: wherewith I awooke. Now good wil since I haue found thee, and nowe thou seest the miseries of the worlde: come, followe me, let me bring thée to a better course: Let not mée mourne for thée, nor other thus talke of thée: I will make much of thée, if thou wilt loue mée: I will make thée giue them cause to say: see what a chaunge? wil is come home wit is content to bee ruled by wit: hee workes with wit, hee walkes with wit: he mournes and is merie with wit: he is trauailing to vertue with wit, he wil finde Fame by wit: why hee, wil? he is as welcome as wit, as worthie as wit, now hee hath learned of wit, howe to direct his course: beleeue me wil, I loue thée.
Gramercie good wit, and I thée: But tel me one thing, mee thinkes all this was but a Dreame, for in the ende you did awake with the fall.
True vvil, I was in a Dreame, and so wert thou:
Oh then you did heare men talke so much of me in in your sleepe: Awake, I warrant you: you shall u [...]uer heare so much amisse of me.
I hope so too: nowe I haue mette with thée, I wil shewe thée a way, whereby thou shalt deserue no such difcredit.
Gramercie. But shall I now tell thee, a little that I had forgotten, that I sawe and hearde in the Lake of Miserie?
Contented good wil, and gramercie too.
Then wit thou shalt vnderstand, I heard these spéeches past among Penitent people: when wit is wayward, Wil is no body: wofull wit, blames wanton wil: wanton Wit, chides worthy vvil: vnhappy vvit, hasty wil: fātastical VVit, forward vvil. Ouer that, vvit thinks scorne of vvil, but yet he cannot bee without him: VVit hath lost vvil, but yet he is glad to séeke him: VVit mournes for Wil, but Wit sees it not: Will trauailes for the Stone, that VVit must whet himselfe vppon: VVil is painefull, but vvit vnthankfull: vvil is courteous, but vvit curst: [Page] Will soone content, wit too curious: will would bee ruled, but wit had no reason: wil would haue béene Famous, had wit béene Uertuous: wil had béene good, had not wit beene bad: wil had not lost wit, had wit lookt vnto him: Wil would doo well, if wit woulde doo better: wil woulde learne, if wit woulde teache him: But wil must worke without wit, and against wit: and yet it was woonderfull that sworne Brethren shoulde so disagrée, yet one so necessarie for the other in all actions, as nothing could hitte well, when they were a sunder. Wil coulde méete wit in a Maze, and comfort him with his company: wil could bring wit into a good order, when hée was quite out of course. Wit would be glad of wil: but when? when he found the want of his Fréende, which he would neuer doo, till he were wearie of working alone: and then he would embrace wil, make much of wil, and neuer leaue wil for any worlds good. Now when I heard so much of my good Wit, I could not tarie any longer in the company, but frō them I go, and by my selfe sate downe, where I slept, and wakte, as I told you.
Gramarcie good will: Why then I perceiue, we were both a sléepe, we lost one an other in trauaile, and trauailed in sléepe, to seeke one another: which walking we haue found: happy bee this day of our méeting, and twise happy houre of this our freendly gréeting: Hee runs farre, that neuer turnes: hee turnes well, that stayes in time: and hée stayes well, that stands fast: he stands fast, that neuer falles: hée falles lowe, that neuer riseth: hee riseth well, that stands alone when he is vp. Good VVill, well met, lette vs nowe bee merrie, shake hands, sweare company, and neuer part.
Content, héere is my hand, my heart is thme. But ere we goe any further, let vs bee a little merry.
What shall we doo?
Let vs sing.
Content. But what?
What you will: begin and I will answere you.
A song betweene Wit and VVill.
What art thou will?
A babe of natures broode,
who was thy syre?
sweet lust, as Louers say:
Thy mother who?
wylde lustie wanton blood,
when wert thou borne?
In merrie month of May.
And where brought vp?
In schoole of little skill:
what learndst thou there?
Loue is my lesson still.
VVhere readst thou that?
In lines of sweet delight,
The Author who?
Desire did drawe the Booke:
who teacheth?
Time.
what order?
Louers right,
what that?
To catch Content, by hooke or crooke.
where keepes he schoole?
In wildernesse of wo:
why liues he there?
The fates appoint it so.
Why did they so?
It was their secret will,
what was their will?
to worke fond Louers woe:
what was their woe?
By spite their sport to spill,
what was their sport?
Dame nature best doth knowe.
How growes their spite?
By wāt of wish: wit, what that
Wit knowes right wel, Will may not tell thee what.
Then VVill adiewe.
Yet stand me in some steede,
wherewith sweete will?
Alas, by thine aduise:
whereto good will?
To win my wish with speede,
I knowe not how.
Oh Lord that VVill were wise.
wouldst thou be wise.
Content, I will come from schoole, I wil giue ouer A [...]tem Amandi, & I will with thée, to some more worthy study, which may be as well to my commoditie, comfort, as content.
Well said vvill, now I like thée well: and therefore, now I will doo my best, to worke thy delight. But for that now I haue a péece of worke in hand, which none must be priuie too, till it be finished. We will heare leaue off talke, and fall to our worke togither, so shall I the sooner and the better dispatch it.
Content. You shall haue my helpe, in it, or any other thing, wherein I may stand you in stéede: And since you are so glad of my company, wee will liue and die togither.
Gramercie good VVil: and meane time let vs pray God to prosper our worke: lette vs haue care how wee worke: what, when, and where we worke, that we may [...]de it commodious, not contrarie to Gods will, contentiue to the best, offensiue to fewe or none, lette the matter be Uertuous, so shall he prooue famous.
Good
I thanke thée for thy good counsaile, God giue vs his grace to doo so. I am glad to sée thée so well bent: now I must néedes loue thée: thou wert neuer woont to be so wel minded.
Better late then neuer: it is good to be honest, though a man had forsworne it: there is no time too late, to thrine.
True: And I promise thée now, I hope I shall doo well by the comfortable counsaile, of so good a fréend: God be thanked, the old vaine is gone. Stet pro ratione voluntas, Sum Iuuenis fruar hoc mūdo, S [...] nex colā pietatem, Omnia vincit amor. Faint hart neuer woon faire Lady: Let vs be mery while we are here: Whē we are gone, all the world goes with vs: Let thē take care that come after: A man is a mā, if he haue but a hose on his head, Oh che bella donna? fauor della Signora, oh dolce amore, La Sennora et spada, sēza estos nada, Perle Amor de dieu: Beau damoiselle: oh braue huom: Che gallante cheual? Il faut auoire come? That makes no matter: then swéetes had no sower: but now.
Oh wil, doost thou [Page 8] remember al this: I pray thée forget al, and think no more of such things. I am sorie, that euer they were in my heart, but now thou shalt sée wee wil doo well inough: wee wil take another way, to both our comforts. Wee wil to Care, and intreate him, to lend vs his helpe, for without him in déede we shall make an ilfauoured ende, of what we begin vntowardly. I promise thée, I heard the pretiest song betwixt him and Miserie, that I heard a good while: if thou wilt set it down in writing, I wil recite it vnto thée.
Contented, right willingly, and thank thée too.
Then loe, thus It was.
The Song betweene Miserie and Care.
WHat art thou care?
A secret skil vnseene.
who was thy syr [...]?
sound wisedome.
Mother who?
Deuise.
And who thy Nurse?
Delight I ween.
when wert thou borne?
In haruest.
what to doo?
To worke.
with whome?
with wit and honest wil:
what worke?
In graine, to gleane the good from il.
What good?
The best.
And how?
by warie eye,
whose eye is that?
the eye of perfect sight:
Who beares that eye?
The head that hath me nie.
whose head is that?
Each one that loues delight.
But what delight?
That longest doth endure,
Oh Care.
I come, thy comfort to procure.
VVhence doost thou come?
I come from loftie Skie,
when camst thou thence?
Euen now.
who sent thee so?
The Gods.
whereto?
To comfort Miserie:
But how?
By wit to worke his ease of wo.
VVhat wo?
The worst.
vvhat that?
The griefe of minde,
Oh.
Feare not, Care will quickly comfort finde.
BEléeue me, I like it well: But is Care so comfortable▪ Yea, indeede is it. Care is both a Corsie & a comfort, all is in the vse of it. Care is such a thing, as hath great a doo in all things: why Care is a King in his kinde. Did you neuer heare my discourse of Care in Uerse?
No that I remember: if it be not long I pray you rehearse it. And for my better remembraunce, henceforth I will write it.
Then giue eare, thus it was.
The song of Care.
Surely, I neuer heard so much of Care, before: but reason hath shewed me, all is true that you haue spoken of him. And therefore let vs humbly craue his helpe in this our worke, which wee are to take in hand, I dare warrant his fauour. VVit, Saist theu so VVill? then let vs goe: Time trudgeth away, we haue talked long: Mountaines neuer meete, but freendes often: good happe comes oft vnlookt for, but neuer vnwelcome. I thought not to haue found thée heere, but we see Fortune doth much, but Fates more to bring fréendes togither: and friendship doth much, where faith is fixed: And faith is a Iewell, and Iewelles are precious, and precious is for Princes.
Oh God, trust me wil, we must be warie to work so with aduise of Care, that as we are friends one to another, so we may prooue in all actions to shew our chéefest Iewell, our faithfull heart to God and her Maiestie: To whom might we once be so happie, as to present a péece of work worthie the receit: oh how glad should then eur hearts bee, which with faithful dutie would aduenture death for her most excellent fauour: which til by desert we finde, & alwaies let vs loue and honour our singuler good Lord, that hath vouchsafed vs his vndeserued fauour: and let vs heartily praye for the preseruation of her most excellent Maiestie, with [Page] long and prosperous reigne ouer vs: as for the aduancement of his Honours estate: who by his Uertues deserues, and by desertes hath found Fauour of her Highnes, loue of her Péeres, honour of vs, and a number our betters. And so let vs away into my Closset of Conceit, where from company we will thinke vpon such matters, as heere we [...] wil not talke on.
Content. Wee wll goe togither, studie thou, and I will make my pen, ready at thine, or his Honours commandement. And thus, til we haue dispatcht our worke in hand: lette vs take our leaue, humbly of our good Lord, and courteously of all our fréendes: Wishing them to imploy their studies, to the pleasure of God, contēt of the best sort, profit of themselues, and good example to others: and so Bacciando le mani del Signore, let vs bid them all Adio. From our heart, this, 20. of August. 1597.
I [...]genii voluntas.
The Authors Dreame, of straunge effects, as followeth.
NOT many daies since, it was my hap to trauaile, not farre hence, into a Countrey, called the Iland of Inuen [...]on: where I met with many of mine acquaintance, as well fréendes as foes, New my foes began to flatter mee, and my fréendes as fast to frowne on me: My fréends were wit and Reason, Wisdome & Care, Wealth and Contēt: My foes were Wil and Rage, Folly and Rechlesnes, Woe, and Discontent: now there were other, betwixt fréendes and foes, that stood looking at mee, with a straunge countenaunce: as who shoulde say, wilt thou, or wilt thou not? these were Fancie, Loue, Frenzie, and Patience. Now there were two Ladies, that sate in such a state, that I had much a doo, to looke vp to them, these were Vertue and Fame: Nowe belowe there were two Sprites, which I was vily afraide off, the one was pide of all colours, and the other as blacke as a Coale: the coloured was Vanitie, and the other Infamie. Nowe as I lookt about mee, [...] remember my first words were these, God blesse me from Sprites. And then looking vpwardes, I wisht to God, I could clime vppe to the two Ladies.
[Page]But soft a while, there is more in it then so, more steppes in a Ladder then one, and more stickes then one to the making of the steppes. Soft fyre makes swéete Maulte, Non cui [...]is att [...]ngit adire Cori [...]thum: The Court is not for common persons, let Beggers stand at Gates: I am but a poore trauailer, I must acqaint my selfe with meane men before I séeme to looke so high: let me go speake with my friendes: But what meane my foes [...]hus to vse me with courtesie? What? would they bee friends with me? But let me see who is hée that so frownes on mee? while I am looking on my foes. Oh it is my friend VVit: let mee go to him, and learne the cause of his choller. Why art thou angrie good VVit? VVill is at thy commaunde, if thou thinkest well of thy friende: leaue those frowning lookes, that will soone bring me out of loue with thee. What (quoth Reason) remember who is thy friend: ha [...] thou forgotten what I haue tolde thée? what is will without wit? yea, (quoth I) and what is VVit without Reason? Oh (quoth VVisdome) cold wordes, VVisedome showes wit cannon want Reason: yea, but (quoth I) where is wisedome: Oh (quoth Care) come to me and I wil telth [...] ▪ tush (quoth I) what is Care without wealth? Oh yes (quoth VVealth) Content is sufficient riches. Yea marrie (quoth I) but where is that? Tush (quoth Fan [...]e) come away and go with mee: Come, thou hast béene from me a great while: VVit i [...] become a sworne brother to Reason and they two are seruants to wisdome. VVisedome, h [...]e is consulted with Care, to hu [...]t after wealth, and wealth forsooth must winne Content. Oh it were a trim life to take in hand to follow these fellowes. Come go, soft (quoth I) I haue béene fantasticall inough alreadie: Then (quoth Fancie) looke wh [...]re Loue is: tush (quoth I) my heart is done.
What? wilt thou go with me (quoth Frenzie?) no (quoth I) I would I were further from thée. Then (quoth Patience) [Page 11] I trust you and I shall be friends, yet, no (quoth I) for I am sure thou neuer camest to me for any good. With that Fancie turned her face, Loue lookt another way, Frenzie fomed at the mouth like a Bore, [...] Patience lookt like a poore Companion. Now came my foes neare me, Will he comes swearing, that Wit was so waywar [...], that no bodie could abide him. Rage hee swore, Reason was so woonderfull, as he knew not what to make of him. Follie he badde fie vpon Wisedome▪ why, no badie could talke with him for Care. And Retchlesnesse, sware▪ Care was too couetous for his Conscience to meddle withall. Wo cried out vpon Wealth, saying: it was the trash that he was wearie of, and had brought him to that passe, by penitence of too much estimation of it. Discontent, hee tolde me that Cōtent was but a flincher, hee would neuer abide with any man long, and he would be my companion during life, if I would.
Now was I in such a maze, with muzing what to do, that I was, and I was not: I coulde not tell where, nor what I was, yet with much a doo, I made them all this aunswere. Will, thou knowest I haue tried thée [...] wanton, therefore no more wordes, if thou wilt followe mee doo, otherwise farewell. Rage, thou art not ignoraunt, of thy vnruly rudenesse, therefore runne after mee if thou wilt, for else I will gladly rest without thee. Follie, thou didst so much followe Fancie, that thou hadst almost vndone me: I am afrayde of thee, therefore come behind me if thou wilt, for followe thée I will not, except thou steppe afore me [...]awares, and that vnwillingly. Retchlesnesse, doost thou remember what thou hast lost me? go looke a Companion, lie aloofe, for I like thée not. Wo, doost thou not knowe, howe often thou hast made me wéepe, then go water other me [...]nes cheekes mine eyes are wet inough alreadie. And Discontent, thou hast done mée [...]uch despite, that I can neuer delight in thée: therefore [Page] depart, for I will neuer bid thée welcome.
My freendes that frowned on me, nowe hearing these answeres to these customers, came a little neere me.
First (quoth wit.) how now? shall fréendes be foes? Wilt thou no more of my company? Yes (quoth I) if I wist to what purpose. Why (quoth hee) I will bring thée to Reason: What to doo (quoth I? nay, (quoth wit) aske him that: Well (quoth I) Content: So when Reason had espied vs, hee beganne somewhat merily to looke vppon mee: What (quoth he) hast thou lost will and found VVit? now I see we shal be fréendes againe. Yea, but (quoth I) what wilt thou doo now for mee? Why (quoth he) I will bring thée to wisdome: To what end (quoth I) hee shal soone sh [...]we thée (quoth he) such sufficient good, as thou shalt be glad off.
Wisedome with graue conntenaunce, thus saluted me? Olde fréende, hast thou left Wil with Rage? and followed wi [...] with Reason? welcome. Come let vs goe to Care: For what cause (quoth I?) of him thou shalt quicklie knowe (quoth he) to thy Comfort. Nowe being come to Care: Oh olde acquaintaunce (quoth hee) What is wit, Rage, Folly, and Rechlesnes, gone togither? and art thou come with wit, Reason, and wisdome, twise welcome. Come let vs walke to Wealth: Wherefore (quoth I?) Thou shalt knowe that anone (quoth he) when tho [...] comst to him: When wealth sawe me (Benedicitie, quoth hee) is wilfull Rage, left with Foolish Rechlesnesse, and woe, worne out? Welcome fréende, looke who is heere? Who (quoth I) and with that I spyed Content: Who thus saluted mee: My good fréende, nowe better welcome then euer. I like it well, that thou wilt rather seeke to recouer thine olde fréendes, then to runne after newe. Kéepe still with Care, and wisdome will so perswade thy wit with Reason, that thou shalt finde mee alwaies at an inch with thée. Marry, as wit is [Page 12] ruled by Reason, Reason by wisdome, Wisdome kept by Care, and Care hath onely Content at commaundement: so must thou, now thou hast founde vs out, vse vs in our kinde, which if thou art desirous to learne, thou must intreate with wit, by Reason, to demaunde of wisdome: of whome thou shalt knowe more then I can tell thée, and so welcome, I haue no more to say vnto thee. I glad of this their fréendly greeting, went first to VVit: My good Wit (quoth I) thou knowest how long I haue longed for Content: how long I haue sought him, and could neuer finde him: and now hauing found him, I am to craue thy counsaile how to vse him.
Alas (quoth will) I am heartily gladde of thy good minde: rome, wee will to Reason, for without him, I am nobody. Reason presently perswaded with mee, that it was his dutie, to demaunde Counsaile of wisedome. Nowe when wée came to wisdome, hée saide hée woulde talke a little with Care, and giue mee aunswere.
Which attending a while, at last, thus it was, my fréend (quoth hée) Con [...]ent is to be vsed as hée is taken: if by the eye, let the head lodge him a while: before hée come to the hearte. When hee is in the heade, lette Wit waye what he is, let Reason runne him ouer, and lette mee with Care haue the considering of him: If wée like well of him▪ lette him sit néerer thy hearte: But if eyther wit or Reason thinke him not worthie the bringing to mee, Or I, when I haue considered of him, thinke him not worthy the kéeping: as by the eye you sounde him, so by the eye loose him. But how soeuer you finde him, loue him moderately: Least with too much you bee wearie▪ or too little you cannot knowe him. If you finde him by Conceite, wit will soone knewe what hée is.
[Page]Then Reason hauing talkt with him, I shall soone with Care so consider of him, as thou shalt not tarrie long for knowledge how to vse him: If by Wit, and Reason both thou h [...]st him, it will bee but little worke to bring him to me. When I and Care haue considered of him, thou shalt not doubt how to vse him: If by mee thou ca [...]st by him, Care will tell thée, thou canst neuer make too much o [...] him: And as wee now and then giue him leane to bee abroade in the worlde a while, so must thou giue him leaue to be l [...]king a while, thou shalt by our helpe finde him againe well enough. Good Syr (quoth I) your will be don [...]. Then (quoth he) I will tell thée what, there are three Companions, that hée doth often keepe companie with all. Whose names are these: Fancie, Loue, and Patience. Now sometime wée see him among them, and let him alone, to see what they will doo with him: Nowe sometime when they haue had him a while, they would lead him awaie to Folly: Rechlesnesse, and those fellows, which when we see, then we fetche him home, and lette them alone with Discontent. Whome when they are wearie off, then they leaue him, and come to craue his company againe: Which for a time we grant them.
But what d [...]st thou looke vp at so? Oh Syr, it is at the two heauenly Ladies, how might a man come to knowe them, and to doo them seruice? I will tell thée, one is Vertue, and the other Fame. Now the way to them is this, thou must goe along by Fancie, slippe along by Loue, skippe away by Frenzie, and shake Patience by the [...]: beholde, Content is with Fancie before thée, take Wit and Reason with thée. I with Care, will not be farre from thee, and by our helpe shall the Ladies entertaine thée. Nowe, haste may hinder thée, and slouth may set thée behinde hand: Looke where the Sprites be, take héede least they catche holde of thée, and then all we leaue thée: and then bee sure the Ladies will euer disdaine thée: nowe [Page 13] [...]llowe my counsaile, and God spéede thée. Thus with humble thankes vnto vvisdome, I tooke vvit, and [...]eason, and set foorth towarde Fancie: Syr (quoth shee) whither walks you? Friend (quoth vvit,) tell her whither vvit and Reason shall carrie me with Content fr [...]m Francie. Lorde at this aunswere howe shee scoulde: Canst thou not passe by mee (quoth shee) but th [...]u must robbe mee of my Content? Well, thou must aske Loue leaue yet, ere hee go, and if hée will let him go, take him to thée, and away sheeflung to Follie: Nowe as I came by Loue: friend (quoth shee) whither newe? let us haue a little talke with you. Saye (quoth vvit) your Tale will bée too long, I cannot tarrie: I am going whither Carefull vvisedome, wilde vvit and Reason, to leade mee, with Content from Loue. Oh howe he frowned, what (quoth hee) wilt thou not leaue me my Content? Well, Patience hath a part in him. Sée what shée will say to thee, since [...] cannot keepe him: so away hee ranne so Rage, and so I lost him. Nowe must I come by Frenzie, who lookt on me so terribly, that without giuing eares to his spéeches, I fetched a leape, almost from vvit and Reason too, but thanked bee God: when I came to Patience. I founde them both againe. Howe nowe (quoth shee) whither will you? Tell her (quoth vvit) whither, vvisedome with Care, hath commaunded vvit with Reason to take Content from Patience, and so to accompanie me, till I return againe. Alas (quoth Patience) Ultra posse non est esse. I can not holde him, thou must haue him: and so heauili [...] shee went to wofull Discontent, with whome shee abode, till our returne againe. Nowe was I [...] most daunger: wee must passe along by the Spirits, whome as I came by with Content in hande, they snatcht and caught at vs. When vvit and Reason, by carefull vvisdomes warning, kept vs aloofe from their fingers: Then when they sawe they could not catch vs, Lorde what meanes they made [Page] to allure vs. Vanitie, had a Million of toyes, which so pleased mine eye, that Wit and Reason had much a doo, to holde me from her: shee would shewe mee such gallant inchaunted Glasses, and in them such swete Ladies, such heauenly Faces, & such singular bodies, with such excellent Graces, that if I had had Fancie with mee, shee had beene fast for starting: if Loue, he had beene linckt: if Frenzie, he had beene in his kinde: if Patience, shee would haue forgot her selfe. I maye tell you, that Wit and Reason, had neuer so much in their liues to doo, to kéepe Content and me from them: But Carefull VVisedome, maye doo much.
Now when Beautie could doo nothing, then did shee fill out dilicate Wines, into Artificicall Glasses, and sette daintie Iunkettes, to mooue me to that vaine delight. But my stomacke was full, what coulde I wishe more then Content? When this would doo no good with mee, then brought shee forth, a sight of gallant Horsses, their heades full of Feathers: [...], Content coulde goe on foote, then thought shee, now or neuer: Oh, shee had a Citterne, on which [...]hee pla [...]de me a fine peece of Italian Musicke, and sung, Che Compra [...] M [...]tonne. Tushe, I was not then fasting, and therefore I cared not for her fleshe.
Then did shée open a pretie Chest, out of which shee dr [...]we out [...]che Iewelles, rare Pearles, precieus Stones: and after them, Silkes of all colours, fine Ribbons, Cutworke Ruff [...]s, Stringes, Laces, Purses, [...], Pinnes, Gloues, and a thousand things, with what doo you l [...]cke Syr? Noneof these (quoth Wit) Reason would be g [...]ne.
Now suddainly began the blacke Sprite to sound his Trumpet: but Lorde what an vnpleasant noise it made? Nowe it was time, for I beganne to be afraide, which Wit and Reason seeing, comforted me with Content, of [Page 14] hope to sée she ende of my happie iourney.
Now when I was past them, I askt of wit, what they were? Why, (quoth hee) wee shall heare by and by. Knowledge, here before, kéepes the key of Vertues gates, he will tell vs.
Now when we came to him, he told me, the one was a Pyper, and the other a Pedier▪ Nowe Knowledge. not ignoraunt of my trauaile, nor my guides: brought vs all before the two Ladies, Vertue and F [...]me. Before whome we fell on knee: and first to Vertue beséeching fauour: shee demaunded of Knowledge, what and whence we wer [...]? who reported no other then truth: and shee considering the friends that sent vs, her chiefe Councellours, and VVit and Reason their chiefe Seruaunts, badde Content bee of good chéere, hée should receiue Courtesie: so in short, she did vouchsafe vs her fauour: Nowe was I become seruant to Vertue.
But (quoth shee) for mine elder Sister Fame, fauour you maye haue promise of, but not entertainement, vntill you haue fulfilled certaine of my commaundements.
Which are these, heare them: let Wit note th [...]m: Reason remember, and Wisedome take care, to see thée execute them. The first is, when you passe by Vanitie, tell her you are sworne to Vertue. And ere you go, sweare to shunne Vanitie, and [...]schew her Ui [...]s: Looke in her Glasses, but loue not her painted faces: Come not on the backe of her pampered P [...]lfrayes, and giue a puffe at her foolishe Feathers: Delight not in her Glasses: Drinke not of her Wine, nor feede of her Dainties: stoppe thine eares from her fidling Musicke, and close thine eyes from her Trumperies: Shake thy heade at the shamefull sounde of Infaime, and so passe that [...].
Passe alōg by Patience with pleasure, flie by Frenzie with [Page] feare looke away from Loue, with loyaltie to Vertue, frowne on Fancie, with Fidelitie to Fame: Make much of wit, and loue Reason, honour wisedome, by carefull wisdome seeke wealth sufficient: let wealth not make th [...] Couetous, le [...]st that thou loose Content: This is the sum of my Will, which as wisedome writes me woorde, hee sees with Care performed: [...]t your returne, I promise you preferment to Fame, and thus fare you well.
Thus backe againe went I, through all the perillous passages, y• I had gone through before. Now first I must passe by the two Spirits, which as I came by, the pie [...] Spirit, first began thus to play the Trull with mee, shee helde mee out a Glasse, wherein shee did liuelie showe me such intising toyes, as woulde haue made a man that had any life in him, to haue lookt towards them.
First, shee shewed mee a trowpe of faire Ladies, euerie one her Louer, colling and kissing, chinning and embracing, and looking Badies in one anothers eyes: Anon they were set downe, euerie Ladie with her Louer hard by her, with his head in her lay, and his hand in her purse. By them a sight of sweete Soules, sitting by a Candle, catching of Fleas.
There were other sights of more effect then all these, to set a yong mans heart on fire: but let them all go, when I wisht my selfe a Louer: what? quoth Reason) Loue hath no Reason, wouldst thou lo [...]e me? when I wisht my selfe a Flea: Why (quoth wit) wilt thou bee a Beast? want Reason, and be subiect to euerie slutt [...]s fingers? then, I had done. When I wisht my selfe somewhat else, not to be named: I must rule you (quoth Reason) else I see you would quickly ru [...]e to ruine.
Now when Vanitie sawe shee could doo nothing with me this way, she beganne to to vse Uillanie with me, come slaue (quoth shee) doost thou thinke scorne to looke towards her, whome Princes doo so dearely account of? thou [Page 15] art my [...]laue, and darest thou denie mee seruice? Yea (quoth I) I dare and doo denie thee, I am sworne seruant to Vertue Therefore a poynt for thee, and thy Uillanie [...]: Doost thou challenge mee for a seruant, that do scorne thy [...]lauerie, prate to Patches: when thou findest a foole for thy diet, feede him with a dish of Diddledomes, for I haue done with thee: if euer I serued thee, I am sorie for it: and since my wages was but lost, I meane to liue no longer by it. As will brought mee to thee, so hath wit by Reason brought me from you both.
At these words her Cake was dowe, shée hung the head, her Trumpetter sounded, Toutest Moote: thus I past the first perrill. Nowe must I come by Patience, who sate with Discontent, whome I onelie smiled on, as I went by, to see her simplicitie: Promise (quoth shee) let mee haue my Content: Tell her (quoth wit) Reason sayes, enemies are too néere: send away Discontent, and as wisdome allowes of it, you shall heare more of him: Till then, perforce Patience be still, and so Adieu: Shee aunswered nothing, but putting finger in the eye, let mee passe.
Then came I by Frenzie, whose madde countenance so amazed me, as that nowe it was no boo [...]e, to bidde me leape lightly, till I were beyonde him: For wit tolde mee before, that Frenzie was an enemie to Reason. Then escaping his clutches, I must come by Loue: newe began I to looke away, as it were ouer the shoulder, towardes my Mystresse, who had commaunded mee to take héede of looking towardes Loue. Yet did I heare him vtter these speeches: is VVit and Reason not sufficient to deale with Loue? Why? Art thou afrayed to looke? Why Cupid will not strike thee blinde: Tush (quoth VVit) tell him, Reason sayes, Loue is too lo [...]tie for Reason to rule: and VVit too weake when Reason must yeeld. I would bee loath to venter mine eye sight. At this answer, Loue [Page] with Rage kept such a reakes, that I thought they would haue gone mad togither. Well, thus leauing them not farre from Frenzie, I must passe by Fancie: whome I frowned on so, that shee had little minde to flatter mee, and therefore bluntlie shee askt mee: what? friend are you angrie with me? and wherefore? For that (quoth I) thou art a blocke in my way to Fame: I would (quoth shee) Fancie were no bodie. Yes (quoth Wit) tell her, Reason dooth admit her one with Loue, but not with Wisedome, and so bid her farewell. Thus thanked be God, I had well euergone t [...]is companie, and with Wit and Reason, I brought my Content to Wisdome. To whome, when I had deliuered my message from Vertue: Well (quoth he) nowe shalt thou once passe backe againe, through this companie, and then thou shalt haue entertainment of thy desired Lady. My selfe will so accompanie thee, that though great will bee thy daunger, yet little shall bee thy harme, and easie thy passage.
Nowe thou hast passed hitherto, with Wit and Reason, I will this giue thee to vnderstande, that I haue a friende and a seruaunt, both of one name: My friend is Reason, and so do I call my seruant: my friend is Reason, giuen mee by diuine Grace, who helpes mee to see howe high the power of God is, aboue the greatest Potentate vpon the earth: Howe much naturall Reason is subiest to diuine Iudgement, by the dutie that Nature dooth owe vnto her Creator.
Nowe as thou goest by Fancie, perhappes she will get helpe by naturall Reason, to bring her to thy bowe: But I will bée by thée, to keepe thee from her bent. So will Loue vse Reason, to bring thee to his Lure, but let mee alone to kéepe thée from his lewdnesse: Frenzie there is no talking with, let vs flie him speedilie. Patience will perswade thee with Reason, but I will pleade with her so for thée, that thou shalt passe her well enough:
[Page 16]Now if Vanitie gette Reason, wee shall doo ill enough with her: yet will I finde her Uaine so, as that if I lette her blood, I will strike her heart so deade, as that shee shall haue no stomacke, to striue longer with vs: nor Infamie for sorrowe, haue power to sounde his Trumpet.
And therefore now reioyce, that though thou hast long runne astray, yet that now at last, thou has [...] hit on a happie way: well time trudgeth away, thou wouldest fain begon, and I would as faine preferre my seruants, therefore let vs be going.
Now, anone we came to Fancie, who had gotten wit and Reason: and as soone as shée had espied me, Freende (quoth shée) welcome, better late then neuer. N [...]we I trust we shall not parte so soone as wee haue doone. Yes, (quoth I) for any thing that I can see: what shall I doo with thée? What? (quoth shee) wilt thou not yeelde to Reason? Yes (quoth I) so Wisdome will mee. Why, (quoth Reason) am not I seruant to VVisdome? Yes, (quoth I) so is VVisedome thy Maister. And (quoth he) hath not my Maister sent mee hither to tell thee, that there is no man but must yeelde to his Fancie? Tell him (quoth VVisdome) where Grace doth gouerne, Fancie must obeye. Yea, but (quoth Reason) Nature followes Fancie. Yea, but tell him quoth Wisdome) diuin [...] Grace bridles Nature. Yea, but (quoth Reason) Nature will haue her course. Tell him, (quoth Wisdome) with leaue of diuine power, else not. Why th [...] (quoth Reason) shal Fanice be nothing? Yes (quoth I) with naturall Reason, but not with diuine Iudgement? Why then, quoth Reason, what doo I with her? Tell him (quoth VVisdome) helpe her to C [...]sin Fooles, and so fare well.
Nowe, Loue wee must passe by, who thus saluted me: Why, Nowe I trust, we shall be [...] d [...]s: for all our falling out. No [...] a whit, quoth I, I haue doone with Loue, gramercie, I will no more of thy company. [Page] What? (quoth Loue) wilt thou not bee ruled by Reason? Yes (quoth I) so he bee not ruled by Nature. Why (quoth he) wilt thou not allowe Reason to yéelde to Nature? yes (quoth I) Naturall Reason: and (quoth hee) wilt thou take Reason for no bodie? yes (quoth I) when I am without wisedome: and when you are with him, what doo you thinke him? aline to leade a foole to Loue, and a i [...]st for wisedome to laugh at. Then (quoth hee) I see thou art out of lyking with Loue, or out of Loue with mee. With both (quoth I) but with thee neuer so much, as when thou wouldest bring mee in liking with Loue: therefore leaue thy illusions, for I like neither them, thee, nor thy Loue, farewell. Nowe was hee skipt from Frenzie, and got to Patience, with whome (when we had escaped) Frenzie, wee found sitting togither. Nowe (quoth Patience) at last I trust (though long first) we shall bee friends. Come let vs liue togither: Soft (quoth I) no haste but good. I remember an Italian Prouerbe: Pac [...]nccia [...] cosa [...]. Patience is the patterne of a Pesaunt. Peace (quoth Reason) you will not b [...] agaynst mee, will you? yes (quoth I) if I like you not? Why (quoth hee) dooth not Reason affirme Patience a remedie in all perplexities? a remedie (quoth I?) no: shee is a rest betwixt Rage and Reason, in a Discontented minde: Why (quoth hee) is shee not a Vertue? Not (quoth I) as thou canst consider her.
Why (quoth he) dooth she not set the Discontented minde at quiet? No (quoth I) but shee makes the minde that would ease the bodie, with outward [...]age, kill he heart with inwarde freatting. No (quoth hee) Patience is a Content. Yea, (quoth I) with a Discontent. What? (quoth he) will you admit her no bodie? yea (quoth wisedome) with naturall Reason, but with Wisedome a forced Content, in effect, an vnwelcome rest to a wofull minde, a Uertue amisse conceyued, yet better so taken, then refused for Rage: but when bad is the best, let both alone. [Page 17] Thus Wisdome déemes her a Uertue, that waites on Uillaines, and such a Uertue, as the vertuous minde doth not loue to trouble it selfe with all. Adieu▪ I haue no more to say to thée, nor will I haue to doo with thée. Well, now was our first passage past ouer: Nowe must we passe by Vanitie: there was a peece of worke. Now forsooth beganne Vanitie to reach out her hande: Fréend (quoth shée) welcome, I thought I had lest thée: Soft (quoth I) hande off, triumph not before the victorie. Why? (quoth shée) shall not Reason stay thée: No (quoth Wisdome) tell her, not when I sée him so neere Vanitie. Why (quoth Reason) is not the beautie of Ladies, the brauerie of Apparell, the swéete sounde of Musicke, the pleasaunt taste of Win [...]s, and delicate Dainties, the gallaunt shewe of stamping Stéedes, with [...]launting Feathers, rich Iewels, and such like, sufficient to perswade thée to keepe vs companie: Then art thou obsti [...]ate I thinke: No (quoth I) I see a sentence ouer your heades, sufficient to set mee farre enough from you. What is it (quoth Reason?) Oh (quoth I) Vanitas vanitum, & omnia vanitas. Nowe (quoth hee) I haue no more to saye: I sée my Maister is too neere thée: Vanitie, farewell, I must away with my Maister. So away went we by Infamie, who was readie to wéepe for sorrowe, to see that now his Ladie had gotten neere a seruaunt, nor he néere a companion to make him so merrie, as to sound his Trumpette.
Nowe passing alone, towardes the Gates of Vertue, wée came to Knowledge, who presently as hée had espied Wisdome▪ vaylde his Bonnet, fell at his feete, and hauing done his duetie, rose of his knée, and led vs through the base Court, and so to the Hall: where first we mette with Courtesie, who conducted vs to the garre Chamber: there was Learning with his Artes, which led vs to Experience, who brought vs to Time: whō as we caught [Page] holde of, they brought vs to Vertue. Who first welcomming Wisdome, and shewing good Countenance to Wit, and Reason, gaue mee a [...]endly nodde, and so staying a while▪ talking with Wisedome: She came at last to mee, with this sweete and fauourable speech. Ser [...]aunt, (quoth shée) I see thy duetie discharged, my commaundement kept, and my will obserued: for thy continuance, Wisedome hath giuen hie words, and I am content to take it Nowe promise is to bée performed, thou shalt haue entertainment of my elder Sister, who I knowe at mine, and Wisdomes requestes, will not refuse thee. So onwardes wee go, towardes this goodli [...] Ladie, whom when I came before, & fell on knee, shee bad mee welcome, with these wordes: Youth (quoth shee the good report that Wisdome hath made of thee, the good minde that my si [...]er [...], hath to thee, doo make me desirous to doo thee good: I wish thee well w [...]th all my heart, and vpon Wisedomes worde I could bee content to entertaine thee. But there comes no man to me, without he haue done some notable Acte worthie Memorie: I [...] thou hast done any such thing, let vs vnderstand it, thou shalt bee presently admitted: if not beeing seruant to my sister Vertue, thou mayest soone attempt it, and [...] begu [...] quickely finish it: till then, content thy selfe with her entertainment, and thinke thou hast attai [...]ed no little honour. So turning from me, shee went to her sister, to whom she vsed these wordes: come let vs talke a little with Wisdome, touching the traua [...]le of this fellow. Content (quoth shee) so away they goe togither, to the Garden of Delight, a place of such pleasure, as passeth my [...] to set out. Newe as they were going thither, I hoping to heare some good newes of entertainment: at the conuning backe againe of Wisdome, I heard the suddaine sound of such a Trumpet, as with the lowde [...]oyse thereof I started, and so awaked. O [...] good Dreame, oh sweete sleepe, oh blessed [...]sion, to gaue so good instruction, [Page 18] to kéepe me from destruction, from which God deliuer me, my well willers, my friendes and foes, and all one another, that will thereto say. Am [...]n.
Now I haue beene entertained, at the hands of Vertue, sworne her seruant though in sleepe,) I must n [...]we (according to the cōmaundement o [...] Fame) attempt some such enterprise, either by Learning or Ualiancie: as may (by Uertues knowledge) purchase me entertainment of Fame. Nowe for a young man it is harde, for new [...] a daies, the gallauntest Youthes be [...]me so amor [...]us, as that in long time, they haue much to too, and a great grace of God, if euer they growe vertuous. Well, yet haue I (better late then neuer) beeing warned in sleepe, taken ca [...]e nowe awake, to d [...]uise, which way to worke, [...] what to take in hand, to deseru [...] my Ladies fauour: and this I will promise you, there is mettalles in the fire, which though they came from many Countries, yet are they heere so mingled, and abide so well togither, as that if it shall please God, to let mee finishe it: I hope to bring to such perfection, as shall bee worthie to be put in memorie. Till when, beseeching God to graunt me his heauenlie, and fauourable aide, and all good mindes to pray for the same: I pray for them, and all other, that it will please God to graunt vs all his grace, that wee may not attempt any thing, but [...]rtuous, that to his glorie may make vs Famous on earth, and in heauen acceptable to his omnipotent mercie. So be it.
The Scholler and the Souldiour.
A Disputation pithily passed betweene them, the one defending Learning, the other Martiall Discipline.
VVritten by the saide Author., N. B. Gentleman.
To the Courteous and gentle Reader.
GEntle Reader, reade no further then you like, if you finde any thing to your Content: thinke well of mee for my paines. If there be nothing that likes you, my lucke is nought: in nothing there can be no great thing, yet something may bee founde, though nothing to any great purpose. Well, there are diuers Nothings, which you shall reade further off, if you will take paines to turne ouer the leafe, and peruse the rest that followes. Now, though I will wish you looke for no meruailous, or worthy thing, yet shall you finde something, though in effect (as it were) nothing, yet in conceit a pretie thing to passe away the time withal. Wel, if you stande content with this Nothing, it may bee ere long, I will send you something, more to your liking: till when, I wish you nothing but well. And so I bid you fare well, from my Chamber at the blacke Friers.
A discourse of a Scholer and a Souldiour. &c.
IN a Countrey vnknowne, trauailed certaine persons vnnamed, of which, two onely vnacquainted, met togither vnlookt for, the one a Scholler, the other a S [...]uldiour: which ere they met had passed many a weary walk. Among which, one day about thrée or foure of the clocke in the after noone: The Scholler almost tyred with extreame trauaile, sate him downe on a [...]ancke side, vnder a shady tree, where, with a hungry stomack (hauing not dined, nor supp [...]d well many a day before) he fell to sucking of certaine rootes, which he had gathered in the fields as he went: and finding no better fare, to fil his belly withall, he thought good to feede his fancie with some contentiue conceit or other: But finding no occasion, to make himself mercie, all comfortlesse & solitary, to himselfe, he vsed this speeche.
Oh, what a wearie life it is to tr [...]uaile? Knowledge (I sée) is hardly come by▪ and hardnesse is vnpleasaunt to the heart: when the heart is ill, all the body is the worse: she body not well, howe can the minde be at quiet? And the minde disturbed, what case is man in? Ah moulde of mishappe, framed to so many miseries: Oh cursed Fortune, that bringest out of frame, a thing so blessedly framed. [Page] Oh [...]onde will, to crie▪out vpon fortune: Oh, wilfull [...]it, that dost not sée thy Folly: Oh, vaine Folly that so hast fed my Fancie: Oh, foolish Fancie, that so hast followed Folly: and oh foole I so much to follow Fancie.
But why do I make this mone? I sée nothing to dislike me: alas, so see I nothing to like me. Why? am I discontent with nothing? no but that I sée nothing to my Content. Why? doth it dislike me, that nothing contents me? no, but that nothing dooth neither please, nor displease me. Why? in nothing is nothing, then what so distrubes me? that what must be nothing▪ for some thing it cannot be, yet some thing it is. And what is it trow I? it is Aliquid ni [...]il, that some nothing know I. What? do I know nothing? No? yes, I know this thing, that nothing is something: And what is that something? why, noght else but nothing. Then since tis [...] nothing that bréedes my disliking, let me see what something is, in this same nothing, which nothing seemes something, and yet is but nothing? it is my Conceit. Conceit? What is that? a secret gift vnto the mind. What? secrets are hidden? whats hidden, is not knowen, but that it is hidden. What is that it, bidden? Something vnknowen: then till it be knowen, what is it? Nothing in knowledge, yet something vnknowne, then something tis, nothing, as was before shewen: in truth little something, but prooues to be nothing: and yet that same nothing, no little sore something to bréede mans disliking? Beauty, Riches, Honour, Vertue, Friendsh [...]p, Loue Time, &c.
Beautie, what is it? a deception of sight, a secret gift of Nature giuen to the bodie aboue Captiuitie, sauing that if may bee conceiued to be nothing: yet is it some thing in shewe, though in substance nothing, yet thus much to disliking, that it bréedes a lyking, whereby growes a greater disliking, yet both as much as nothing. For Beauty is but a secret allurement of the eye, to liking of the person where it is placed. Now that lyking growto Loue, of [Page 22] the person Beautifull: which but for Beautie (some time) were more worthie hate, then, in this it falles out to bee an illusion, a deceit of Conceit by allurement of the cie. But whereof growes this? but of the fault of Conceit: which I shewed before, is (though some thing) nothing. Then of nothing growes nothing, but nothing: If then this deceyt grow of the fault of Conceit, which is some thing, the fault can be no something, & then cannot Beautie be any thing, but a shadow: which in substance is nothing, though in cō ceit some thing: but in knowledge nothing. But let mée▪ leaue this vaine nothing, & thinke of some thing else: which well considered, may come to as little, or as much nothing.
Riches, that must needes be some thing: and yet let me sée, is there no [...] ▪ Nothings then one? Oh yes, how many are there? and what are they? Oh, there are seuen Nothings, one in respect nothing: An other Nothing, in a maner: An other Nothing, to trust too: An other Nothing, durable: The sixt, a n [...]w Nothing, called nothing at all. Nowe let mee see, which of these Nothings, is Riches: in effect it is somthing and that thing y• we [...]th great things: it purchaseth loue, friendship, & contrarily hate, and Enuy: it buyeth Honour, and selleth honestie: it maketh things of nothing wonderfull, and wonders things of nothing. It is a comfort to the mind, and a corrupter of the Conscience: it releeueth the poore, and pleaseth the wealthie; it is a helpe to obtaine Uertues, so it is an occasion of vices: it is a worker of warres: it maketh Peace: it is the occasion of much treason: it makes truth come to light: it makes the traua [...]ler: it keeps some at home: it makes the fine workmen: it breeds idlenes: it makes the braue Court: it beggers the countrey. What should [...] stay any longer vpon it? it is such a thing▪ as hath such a sway in many things, as almost there is no worldly thing to be counted a greater: and can this then be nothing? yea: and how? Why, it is nothing in this, it is nothing durable it is a [...] of Fortune, who giues nothing but mutable: for a Rich man to day, tomorrow is poore: [Page] It is subiect to manie casualties: and in that it is so vncertaine a thing, it is nothing certaine, not certainly nothing, but nothing durable, then in this it is nothing, though otherwayes something: but enough of this Nothing, and now to some other, which seemeth something, but in [...]ne, fall [...]s out nothing.
Honour: That is a thing greatly sought, little sounde, and much made account of, nor for the Uertue of the substaunce it carrieth with it: but for the Maiestie of the matter, which in substaunce is nothing, it purchaseth to the person Honourable reuerence of his Inferiours, familiaritie with the Nobilitie, and fauour of the Soueraigntie. Nowe there are diuerse Honours, one Honour is gotten by Riches, which is a thing nothing durable: of nothing growes nothing, then Riches decaied, dies the Honour, then that Honour is nothing, in that it is as Riches nothing durable.
An other Honour is gotte by valiancie, and that is in Warre, whereby the Captaine winneth the Armes, that after during life, he, to his honour, and after him his po [...]eritie, to his and their honour, do honourably beare: yet for all this, well considered, it is nothing, for that it is not certaine: for that in Warres to day is got, that to morrow is lost: to day he gets an En [...]gne, that to morrow looseth his owne Armes, bodie and all: if he come home well with his victorie, yet Virtutis comes Inuidia: Hee that did clime by Uertue, may be ouerthrowne by villainie: hes may bee accused and attainted, that neuer did amisse: Periurie may make forgerie, to séeme no knauerie: many times might ouercommeth right, and then executed vpon condemnation, his house is come to destruction: then this Honour, I see like wise is the nothing, that is the nothing durable.
But leauing this, there is now another Honour, got by Learning, which gaineth the knowledge of many things, [Page 23] and the vse of the same. The best things it sheweth, and descries the woorst: it teacheth to know God, and how to serue, loue, and honour him: it teacheth to knowe the Diuell, and howe to blesse vs from him. By Learning comes Wisedome, by Learning ill vsed, commes folly: by Learning comes Fame: by learning comes fauour, of the highest: by learning comes all goodnesse: by Learning comes that honour, that longest dooth endure: for after death, Fame of Learning [...]s an honour to to the person dead: and yet that Honour nothing durable, for Fame in deede is but a fained thing by Fancie, and nothing sayned can be true, which proues Fame to bee no true thing: then in trueth it must be nothing. If then Fame bée the chiefe Honour of the learned, which well considered, is neither any thing in substaunce, nor yet durable: then this Honour (though manie wayes something,) yet in some it is nothing.
Wherefore, leauing Honour, let mée see what thing is Vertue: Oh, a heauenly thing, it is that which maketh the Souldiour by valure Honourable, and by the helpe of Learning Famons: It is the enemie to vice, it is that which aduanceth the poore, and makes the Rich honoured: It is an Honour, that the most honourable doo most honour: it is in summe, the woonder of the worlde, the staye of Wisedome, and the high way to Heauen: and can this so woorthie a thing be thought nothing? Oh yea, and howe? Alas Money is such a thing, as without that thing, there is nothing accounted in a manner anie thing. Vertue is a Iewell they say, but it is of small price, who will giue any money for it? Nay, more, who will not for money become vicious of Uertuous? Alas, too te [...]e: Then, by this I sée, that Uertue in respect of Riches, is nothing, which Riches in respect of Uertue, ought rather to be counted nothing: but beeing as it is, (in respect of Riches) nothing. I sée it is the nothing, [Page] that is [...] nothing in respect: and dooth not this nothing [...] sufficient disliking in that, in respect of a thing of nothing, it should bee thought nothing. Yes [...], but when nothing will helpe it, let mee see some other thing which found out in kinde, in [...] comes to be nothing.
Friendship, what is that thing▪ To bee short, it is such a thing, as I haue found so much deceite in the thing: as I care to say no more of the thing, then that it is nothing to trust too, then for me it shall stand for nothing. Some will say, it is, that keepes Princes in peace, and Countreys in quiet: of peace comes plentie, of plentie Pleasure: Pleasure maintaines health, and health makes a merry heart, and all this comes of heartie friendship. Yea but where is that? Nescio. I can not t [...]l, for the worlde is full of falsehood: that thereis almost, Nulla f [...]des, l [...]ft in Terris: and where there is no faith, Freendship is nothing to trust too, and so let it rest that nothing, and to some other thing as much as nothing.
Loue, what is that? oh it is a maruellous thing. Some say it is a God, called Cupid, but that is but a fonde thing that Fancie faines: and no fained thing can bee thought any thing but nothing. Some other say it is a straunge thing deuised by Desire, found out by Fancie, followed with affection, obtained with friendly liking, & kept with faithfull Care: but what thing is all this thing? I neuer coulde see, heare, or reade any thing, that found it more then nothing. Some say, it is no God, it is rather a Diuell that sets mindes on madding, and then it is a madde thing, God bless [...] vs from such a thing, that is woorse then nothing. Some say, it is a common thing, and yet it is such a thing, as is past mans conceiuing, and all mens des [...]rying, at least without faining, and fained things nothing, howe can this bee any thing (but in a manner) nothing: then leauing this nothing in a manner, let mee go to some other thing, which yet will proue nothing.
[Page 24] Time, what may that be? a straunge thing that ruleth all things, and yet it selfe nothing. Some fame it to be a thing like a man, with a balde head, sauing a locke before on the forehead, with a payre of Wings on his shoulders, like an Angell, and with a Sithe in his hande like a Mower, fetching his stroke, as though he had alwayes some worke before him: But this is but a fained thing, which they set out balde behinde, and with a locke of hayre before, for this reason. That Time, when it is once past, it is not to be caught, it is to bee vsed as it comes, and narrowly to be watched, that it slipper of away vnawares, least when it is past, repentance findes it too late to wish for. His Wings b [...]token speede, that he makes where hee goes, according to the old Prouerbe, Time tarrieth no man. His Sithe shewes his labour, that hee neuer standes idle: for Time will bee euer sette about some thing, and if Wit want discretion to set him to some good worke, Will is not without seme toy or another to turne him to. Happie is hee that can vse him well when he hath him, and twise happie he that doth alwayes war [...]ly watch him, to turne him to good vse.
But who is he that euer sawe him indeede, as he is set out in shewe? Nemo. None that euer I could heare of. Then beeing but a fained thing (as many other are) let it passe as these things for a thing of nothing: which being knowne to be nothing but a fained thing, let it rest in substance nothing, (though in conceite, a secret thing) which may prooue in a manner (well considered) nothing. But nowe there is a newe Nothing (as yet) vnspoken of, which if a wise man heard mee keepe such a prating to my selfe about nothing, hee would hang it on my sleeue for a rewarde, for him that deserues no better thing. Well, the cheefe nothing of all, which is the nothing at all, that is the nothing that I see here to delight me, which made me vse all this speech of nothing.
[Page]But whome doo I see yonder before me? What is it a man? Why? then there is some company so comfort mee in this calamitie: then that is some thing, yet to driue mee out of this nothing. Well, I will rise to him, to see what hee is? and whither he trauailes, whence he came, and what he intends to doo? It seemes a stout fellow, by his sterne looke: it seemeth by his Warlike countenaunce, hee should be a Souldiour. A Souldiour? what should he doo heere abouts? without a Captaine, farre from any towne, and alone without company? Is he not some outlawe, that liueth here in the Wildernesse? who takes the spoile of such poore Trauailers as my selfe: and héereby it may bee, hée hath more company at hand, eyther in their caues, or in the Wooddes heereby, God knoweth. Well, I hope the best, that hee may yet bee some man that trauailes this way in Gods peace, meaning neither me nor any else harme.
Therfore, towards him I will, and therwithall vp he rose, and to him he went: but what Countrey man mayhe be? I will see. And so when he came somewhat néere vnto him, he vsed his speeche.
Ben trouate Signore, bien trouue Mounsieur, buene [...]aliado, es la Vuestra merced. Salue Domine. Countreyman well met.
Well met good fréende. Che sete voi? Inglese? Don venes vous? amigo. Dic mihi quaeso.
Oh Syr, for that I sée you vnderstand the Englishe [Page 25] tongue, and my trauailes in these Countreyes, hath not beene long: leauing other languages, you shall vnderstand, that first for my Countrey, I was borne in I sola Beata. I come from I know not whence, and am going I know not whither, by profession, I am a scholler: New what are you?
Friend▪ I professe Armes, and to aunswere thée otherwise, I was borne in Terra Fortunata, I come from a Combatte, and am going to a Challenge. But what a fantashcall fellow art thou? to tell me thou comst thou knowest not from whence, and art going thou knowest not whither: what? hast thou studied thy self starke mad? thou speakest so [...]?
No Syr, but indéed I am somewhat wilde headed with want of companie, and almost halfe mad for lack of meate, so that blame me not if I speake wisely: for indeed [...] when a man hath beene long fasting, the braynes will bee out of temper, and when the head is ill, all the body is the worse, and the wittes not at best: and yet Schollers are hardly brought vp, therefore they should away with hardnesse the better: theyr allowance in Colledges is but small, therefore little meate should content them.
Schollers brought vp hardly? No, it is the Souldiour that hath the body to bea [...]e hardnesse: hee is se [...]loned as the Carp [...]ter sa [...]es by his boords) for all weathe [...], hée can go further with a crust, and cuppe of colde Water, [Page] then the Scholler with his pound of béefe, and his potte of béere: the Scholler must haue his diet at due times, or else his stomacke will wamble, and hée must be sicke like a Woman with childe: and oh, it must be well dressed, or else it goes against his stomacke, and if he fare ill once a weeke, hée liues hardly. Alas for him, the Souldiour must haue his meate when he can get it, and take paines himselfe to dresse it, and eate it perhaps at midnight, disgest it as he may, giue God thanks for it, and think himselfe happie if he so may haue it. Therefore in respect of the Souldiours life, for his fare, the Scholler is at farre better state then the Souldiour: but then for honour, the life of the Souldiour.
And why so?
For that the Scholler sits alwaies crouding at home in his Chamber, eating vp the wealth of his Countrey, with his nose ouer the fire, or lapped vp in a furred Gowne, to defende him from the cold of the winter: and in Summer plucking vppe the Flowers that should beautifie the grounde, and so goes he plodding vp and downe, with his eyes bended downewardes, as though he were seeking Pearles among Pybles, or else staring into the Element, as though he watched when the man in the Moone would come out among the starres: And when they come in againe, then they fall to reading of one booke or other, sometime they reade the famous acts of gallant Souldiours, such as Caesar, Alexander, Hanniball, Hector, Achilles, (and many other that I leaue to recount) whose victorious deedes they take pleasure to peruse, but the [Page 26] base minded fellowes, are neuer the more readie, or willing to stirre their owne foote out of he Countrey, to see an inch of seruice.
Oh good sir, speake not so in discommendation of a Scholler: for why, if he sit at home (as you say) hee is not idle, when hée is reading on his booke, and when hée leeketh downwardes, it is because (his hrains beeing busted about studie) hee would not lift vp his eyes, least the beholding of some vaine thing or other (which the worlde is full of) should carrie away his wittes with a wanton delight, from his desire otherwise determined. If hee lift them vp into the Heauens, it is either for heartie repentance he makes vnto God for his offences: or else for his grace, to studie no higher causes, then may be graunted with his fauour.
Nowe, though hée stare, as you tearme, vppon the Moone and Starres, to marke their courses, and by them to discerne and note further causes: it argues not therefore, that he watcheth a man in the Moone: For indeede I haue studied somewhat my selfe, and I haue contemplated the Skie, the Sunne, the Moone, and Starres, and this I will say, I haue diuerse times séene a man or two in the Sunne, but in the Moone neuer any: therefore he was [...]oo simple to be a Scholler, whatsoeuer he was, that woulde stare vpon the Moone, to looke for a man in it.
Now for your noble Captaines, whose triumphant déedes you speake of, that Schollers take delight to reade, but not to follow: You are deceyued, for there bée Schollers that beare as high mindes, and as valiant heartes, as any men, and to tell trueth, a good Captaine was first a Scholler, who pursuing the valiant déedes of other men, hath béene by them set on to attempt the like enterprises:
[Page]Besides, sometime you will graunt me (I thinke) that counsaile and words dooth much in warres: Is not pollicie one of the chiefest poynts in warres? Experience doth well, but with Arte it dooth better? What sayde Cicero? Plus ego togatus, quam armati decem. He did more in his Gowne, then ten in their coate Armours. Ceda [...] armatoga concedant laurea lingu [...]. Let the Gunne giue place to the Gowne, and giue the braue tongue, the Bay tree. Was not Cicero, [...]ratorum prestantissimus? an excelent Scholer? Cataline was a braue Souldiour: but yet Cicero and his side, gaue the ouerthrowe. Againe, howe should the Fame of your gallaunt Souldiours remain [...] in Memorie, had there not béene Schollers willing, (for the good will they bare them,) to set them out with such a grace of glorie, that all men should be glad to reade and heare them, yea, and a number to followe them. But euerie man must not, nor can bée a Souldiour: for some must be at home, for diuerse causes of importaunce, appertinent vnto the Common wealth, which in their kinds are as worthie honour as the Souldiour.
Not so. I graunt that it is necessarie for some to sit by the fire side while the other fetch Wood and Cole. But they are slouthfull, while the other take paines, and whether is more worthie honour, labour, or idlenesse? Againe, when the Souldio [...]s of Rome had playde the men, in the ouerthrowe of Cataline: Was it not a fault in Cicero, to shewe such arrogancie in his spéeches, to take vppon him more effect, then ten men in Armour? eyther hee ment it merr [...]ly, by some odde ten persons, that neuer came out of the Towne to the battaile, because yet hée sayde somewhat vnto the Souldiours, to encourage them: and they that were away, neither sayde nor did [Page 27] anything. And so hee meant it to the discommendation of their Cowardise, in kéeping farre enough from the fight: Or else he meant, hée pr [...]ted more himselfe, then any ten Souldiours in the Campe. But happie it was for him that the day went of his side, though the victorie came not by his eloquence: I graunt hee did great good with his perswasions, for in déede good wordes will moue much: especially, in good causes as that was: besides God is good, and he dooth commonly giue the good victorie: and if he suffer them to be ouerthrowen, it is for a further good he meanes them.
Nowe therefore, if he had giuen the chiefe glorie to God, and the rest to the valiaunt Captaines and Souldiours: in my iudgement, he had done wel: but to come out with Plus ego, me thinkes he played the foole, Ipse. Againe, whereas you speake of the great fauour of Schollers, that they doo vnto Souldiours, in setting foorth their famous deedes, I must giue them commendation for their paines, but for Honour, confesse who deserues more Honour, the man that dooth the déede, or he that wrytes of it, when it is done.
I graunt Learning an ornament, and a necessarie appertinent vnto a Souldiour. Otherwise in deede, it is harde for him to bée a good Captaine, for by Learning, he knowes vpon what cause it is good to beginne warre: and warre offered, vpon what cause it growes, and if it bee without cause, howe good then is the defence. Else if a Souldiour will vpon a fagarie, or madde humour in the heade, goe showe his great businesse and little wit, hee knowes not, nor cares not, vpon whome, where, or for what cause: I will say his foolishnesse makes him vnworthie of the name of a Souldiour: his deedes worthie to bee put in obliuion, and himselfe vnwoorthie honour. Therefore I confesse, a good Captaine, had neede to [...]ee somewhat a Scholler, ere he take [...] hand: [...] y [...]t [Page] in his Scholership, not so worthie honour, as when he hath shewed him selfe a Souldiour: Marrie this I allowe of the vnlearned, the Scholler is to bée honoured, and the Souldiour to be beloued. But yet I say still, the Souldiour is to bée honoured, both of the Scho:ler, and the vnlearned: of the Scholer for his Wisedome, with valure: and of the other for his [...]outnesse, with vertue. Now what say you for the Scholler.
This I say: the grounde, I thinke was before the Grasse, the tree before the fruite, the Plaine song before the Deskant, and so foorth. The ground I must confesse, is worthie loue, for bringing foorth Grasse: so is Grasse to be loued for the Cattailes sake that it feedes, which wee [...] by. Nowe if the ground brought out nothing but Mosse, then were it little to be loued: againe, the Grasse cut, and not well handled, would doo little good, and were worthie as little loue. The Tree were ill, would beare no Fruite: and the Fruite ill, would please no taste: the Plaine song, were plaine stuffe, without Deskant, and the Deskant were a madde péece of Musicke, without Plaine song to be the ground.
But as the ground for the Grasse, so the Grasse for his [...]wéete iuyce: the Trée for the Fruite, and the Fruite for the sweete taste: the Plaine song for swéete Deskant, and the Deskant for skill, are loued. So is the Scholler for [...]is Learning, and the souldiour for [...]ertue, to bée honoured a like: and if any more then other, the scholler, for that hee findes by Learning, what is Honour, howe it is to bee gotten, howe maintained, and what to be esteemed. Hee sees whether his bodie bee to his minde, and if it bée, then if both bée fit to abide the life of a souldiour, then dooth hee proue a Famous fellowe, if God [Page 28] send him good fortune. If not, why then hee takes in hand, Law, Phi [...]cke, or Diuinitie, the most excellent study, whereby to win no lesse honour during life, then Fame after death. By learning comes knowledge, by learned knowledge, comes a man of meane countenance to giue counsaile vnto Princes: By learning is seene what sinne is, howe it is hated of God, and wh [...]t hurt it doth to man: by learning is Uertue founde, and howe it is beloued of God, and honoured of the best minds, and so ought to be of all men: by learning comes the knowledge of the nature of many things, and the vse of the same: by learning can the Phisition cure the souldiour beeing sicks or hurt: by learning dooth the man of Peace knowe the law of Armes. In summe, I know no man excellent in anie thing without learning, which is the grounde of all excellencie. If then learning be excellent, the tune that is spent in that is most excellently well bestowed, which time may be well called the Schollers time, and the scholler for so well bestowing that time, most worthie to bée honoured. Now what say you for the Souldiour?
Marrie this I say, the better the grasse, the more is the ground esteemed: and till the grounde beare grasse, what was it to be estéemed? but as barrain, and therfore a thing of little woorth: but when it brings foorth good grasse, then it is called a fatte grounde, good ground, & so forth. Marrie if this grounde lie in a colde corner, it will be long ere the grasse spring, and being come vp, it commonly proues sower, and dooth not so soone nor so well fatten the Cattell, as other that lyeth somewhat néere the sunne. Againe, if the grounde lye verie high, and neere the sunne, then is the Grasse so parched with the heate, that there is little swéetenesse left [...]n it for the Cattell. [Page] Then must it be kept with watering, to coole the heate, and to refresh the roote of the grasse withall. Againe, the cold grounde must be often dunged, thereby to giue it more heate, and with that warmth, to comfort the roote of the grasse, that it may the better come vp.
Now I do not denie, but these grounds may bee both indu [...]erent good in their kinds, after they haue beene wel vsed as I say. But the ground is to be considered of, according to his nature: and if the grounde be of nature to beare grasse, and such common hearbs as will feede Cattell, it is not to be despised. But if it bee of nature to bring foorth flowers, hearbes, rootes, and fruites, for man himselfe to feede on, is it not to bee made account off, farre aboue the other? Yes surely. And this minde am I of, that at the first Creation, when God had made the Earth, hée gaue it a secret nature to bring forth Fruits, but many sundrie grounds, sundrie kinds of Natures, which according to the same are to be esteemed. God when he had made the grounde, he saide, let vs garnish it with Grasse, Flowers, Hearbs Trees, and Fruits, and so foorth.
Nowe he thought it not worthie the looking on till it had brought foorth the Fruites, Flowers, and Hearbs, which his heauenly Maiestie had giuen it a secret Nature to bring foorth, to beautifie it selfe with all. Which Flowers and fruites, some hee sawe heere, some there, and according to the Fruites, hee estéemed the plotte of grounde whereon they grew: therefore say [...], the ground is to be thought off according to the goodnesse of the fruits, which naturally and not by helpe, it brings foorth. The Trée was before the Fruit, but till such time, as it brought foorth fruite, what was it but a stocke? not worthy the proyning.
Now there are diuers Trées, which according to the nature of the Soyle wherein they grew, bring [...]h [Page 29] fruites, Nutmegges, Cloues, Cinamon, Ginger, Mace, Pepper, Orenges, Limons, Pounde Citrons, Pomegranets, Grapes, and Suger in Canes Melones, Abricockes, Artichockes, Prunes, Raysons: And for Rootes, [...]ringos, Potatoes, and a number of other too long to recite. The colde Countries yéelde watrishe fruite, as Plums, Peares, Apples, Cherries, and such like. The temperate Soile, bringes foorth fruite, neyther too watrishe, nor yet too drie, but betwixt both. Nowe, the Trees are to bee thought off, according to their fruites: is not the Cinamon trée to be estéemed aboue the Apple trée? is not the Damson Trée, to be made accoumpt off, aboue the Blackthorne trée? Is not the Pippin tree, to bee esteemed aboue the Crabbe trée? The Abr [...]ocke, aboue the common Plum? and the Cherrie aboue the Hauthorne berrie? Yes out of doubt, according to the sweetenesse of the taste, is the fruite to beloued,. In the Garden of Paradize, there were diuers fruite Trees, and fruites, but one théefe that was to bee honoured aboue all other: for féeding whereof, man was driuen out of the grounde, and forst with toile, to▪ get his liuing abroade in the world, with Gods high displeasure. Therefore some Trées are aboue other to be honoured: Plaine Song is good Musick, but not so good as when the Deskant is made to goe with it.
Now there are diuers grounds, which according to the Deskants are to bee estéemed: What swéeter hermony, then among the Byrdes of the field? what Byrd so [...]uch honoured as the Nightingale? and why? but for her sweete chaunge [...]: When shee first begins to record it is a pretie birde. But when she sing [...]s out in the midst of Maie, about midnight the weather faire, a [...]d [...] a fine bushe: Oh [...]s a heauenly noise, to h [...]are the sweete wretch.
So the Scholler, [...] be [...] his [Page] Learning, for his sight in diuers Artes. But now men are borne vnder diuers Planets: as some vnder Iupiter, those are imperious fellowes, those are good to bee Princes: some vnder Saturne, they are frowarde of Nature, and good to make Lawiers: some vnder Venus, & they are good to make Solicitors of Loue: some vnder Mercurie, and they are good to bee Secretaries, for they are (commonly) ingenious: some vnder Sol, those are hote fellowes, those are good to make Marriners, they may best abide the colde of the Water: some vnder Luna, and they are weake of Nature, and subiect to much sicknesse, those are good to make Phisitians, to helpe themselues, and other that hath néede of them: some vnder Mars, and they are the men that prooue the gallant Souldiours.
Now if the Scholler bee borne vnder that Planet of Prowesse, and in his time of studie bee addicted to follow that which hee sees worthy Honour, which both reason perswades his minde, and Nature leades his body too: is not he worthy to bee honoured aboue the Scholler that is weake of Nature? and vnfit for any exercise of great honour? Yes surely. My selfe haue studied a little, in diuers Artes: but euer I was most bent to this Art of war, whē I scarce kn [...]w what a Gun meant, me thought it did me good to heare it shoot off, and see the fire: it did me good to looke on a swoorde blade, ere I knewe whither it shoulde haue a hut or not.
What shall I say, I loued a Drumme and a Fy [...]e, better then all the fi [...]ling Musicke in the worlde: and growing to some yeeres, I woulde practise now and then a little of Warlike exercises, till in the ende, the delight therein, drewe me quite from my Booke: So that when I had learned first to serue God, and howe to serue him, to doo no man wrong, and take as little as I might. I left my schoole fellowes, and foorth I got to seeke aduentures. Now Lawe I haue inough, for my selfe (as [Page 29] I saide) I will doo no wrong, and take little. And among Souldiours, Stafforde lawe, Martiall lawe, killing or hanging is soone learned. For Phisicke I haue [...]uough, I knowe a little Turpentime, will heale a great cutte, a Cobwebbe, and Salt, or Bole Armonick, wil [...]int a bleeding. If I be ill at ease, I fast it out: I doo as Hogges doo, neuer eate meate, till they see whither they shall liue or die: Tush, sicknesse comes by ill dyet, then learne by one surfet, to vse the better order twise for it: but Souldiours vse, is to kéepe no dyet, but to abide all hardnesse, therefore they commonly are not sicke, but vpon the bullet, which if it light in the breast, they lye not long on it: so that they haue no neede but of the heauenly Phisitian, to craue his heauenly Mercie, to purge their soules from sinne, that it may appeare pure and acceptable before him, at the day of Iudgement. And new minding not to say much more in this matter: What say you for the Scholler
Syr, I must néedes say, you haue saide well for the Souldiour, but yet I must saye, that note the liues of them both, and you shall see the Schollers life most worthy honour: and why? the Scholler findeth (as you say) by discretion, whither his body be to his minde, and both apte for Armes: if not, yet he is ready and able to instruct those that are able, in those cheefe pointes that doo most appertaine vnto that Art. Wherby the willing minde hauing but litle knowledge) may speedily purchase great perfection by small experience.
Further, the Schollers Booke will not lette him be ydle, but to fall to some honourable studie or other:
[Page]As if he study [...], I f [...]tche my au [...]thoritie out of Scripture: Dooth [...]t Christe b [...]d vs honour the Phisitian? If he study Lawe, what thing [...] [...]ore honourable, then that which [...] Countries in good order? the Prince in peace, and the s [...]ectes in awe? the well doo [...]rs in centinuance, and the offenders in feare? And is not Lawe then, an honourable study,? If he study Diuin [...]ty, who in the world more worthy honour, then hee that pronounceth the worde of God? to the comfort of the pe [...]tent, and the perdicion of the obstinate? In that studie is seene, who is the good Souldiour? What is the good quarrell? against whome it is good to [...]ight, and who giues the ouerthrowe. The true Christian is the good Souldiour, which with onely Faith, fightes against the foule [...]nde Sathan, and all his filthie and h [...]sh cr [...]we, whom Christ hath ouerthrowne, and troden vnder his feete, this is the good fight: to God bee giuen the glorie of the ouerthrowe.
And is there any time more happily spent, then in this warre? is there any man so worthy honour as hee that sp [...]ndes his time so happily? no sure, this is the good Souldiour, and this Souldiour is the Scholler: Againe, the Schollers life is c [...]le, modest, content with little, desiring no mans hurte, and wishing all men well, lothe to haue his hands imbrued with bloud, and sorie to see the crueltie of the bloudie Souldiour. The Scholler studies howe to set out the Souldiour, howe to keepe the subiect at home in order, the Countrey in quiet, and himselfe in health: the Scholler seekes by Lawe, to redresse the poore mans wrong: the Scholler studies to knowe all good, and [...]hewe all ill. If the Souldiour doo so too: then is he as worthy honour, as the Scholler, but no more. But in truth, I haue not hearde many such like Souldiours as your selfe seeme to bee: for you were an olde Scholler I p [...]rceiue, before you were a young Souldiour, if your [Page 31] practise in Armes hath beene as great, as your studie in Artes, I must th [...]ke you a rare Souldiour, yea, a Captaine woorthie to leade a great armie: but if you will confesse a truth, I thinke you w [...]l not any longer [...] your opinion, i [...] that the Souldiour should deserue honor aboue the Scholler.
Yes surely, though I must confesse, I see in you the minde of a Souldiour, and the perfect poynts of a good Scholler, and for your learning woorth [...]e honour▪ yet will I (though vnworthie of any commendation, hauing neuer done any famous exployts) giue the cheefe honour to the Souldiour. For though the Scholler doo fl [...]de by reading▪ what is the good fight, who is the good Souldiour, who is the eneime to bee ouerthrowen, and who gettes the victorie? Yet if hee knowe this, and will not put it in action, it is then but for others instruction, and not for his owne soules health. Againe, he that hath read little, by grace may haue sufficient knowledge, that the Diuell is naught, and faith is the onely de [...]nce for him: God is the onely victor, and his [...]e the glorie.
But further, he that is borne vnder Mars (as I said be fore) and hath any thing studied the scriptures: he will in the honour of God go trauaile the world, seeke out such obstinate rebelles to Christ, as take them vnto Antichrist, leaue God, and serue the Diuell: such when hee findes, hee will destroy them, that they may not liue to infect other. What better death? then in such a quarrell? What life so worthie honour, as such a death? What action so famous, as such an enterprise. Oh good Souldiour, that so honours his God: sweete Christ, that vppon the Crosse lost his heart bloud for his sake, that he will in his quarrell, to do him due seruice, aduenture, and willingly [Page] loose his heart bloud, and his life in this world for his sake: knowing assuredly that he shall finde it againe, with tenne tunes more blessed toy in the world to come. The Souldiour seeketh aduentures heere and there, stayeth wilde Beasts, and would destroy the simple trau [...] ler: the Souldiour challengeth and slayeth the villaine that flaundereth the vertuous: the Souldiour is courteous to all men, hee is modest with Modestie, to shew the height of his minde: the Souldiour is content with any thing, and sometime with nothing: the Souldiour dooth helps the oppressed in a rightfull cause, and dooth hurt no man but his enemies: the Souldiour [...]nbrues neither his handes nor his blade, in the bloud of any, but those that would do the like in his breast: the souldiour hath a Martiall law, for such carelesse persons as will [...]ot obey the Law of Armes, appoynted to maintaine good lawes, and to cutte off the offendors of the same. In sunt, the souldiour is the seruant of God onely, the scholler waytes too much of our Lady to do God good seruice I say not all schollers are so, but I wish that the souldiours were so, but as God is aboue our Lady, so his souldiour aboue her scholler to be honoured. Howe say you scholler, will you allow me this? or not?
[...]yr, I cannot bu [...] allow you this, that the woorthie souldi [...]ur is to be honoured aboue the wanton scholler, but I must say the wise and carefull scholler is more worthy honour then the wilde and carelesse souldiour: But I will a little speake of the scholler, and so I will either haue it, giue it, or gree vpon it. You must consider syr, we are by nature all the children of sinne, but by adoption the Children of God.
[Page 32]Nowe for the Planettes, in deede the Childe that is borne vnder Mars, is most [...]tte for battaile, and vnder Mercurie, for studie. But he, say I, that is borne vnder Iupiter▪ whose Parents were borne, the one vnder Mars, the other Mercurie, he shall haue the operation of Iupiter, wholy▪ and partly each of the other in him,, and such a follow say I, will proue the man of Honour in deede, of all other.
As for example, was not Marcus Aurelius, a gallaunt and worthi [...] Souldiour? did he not be [...]ow great time in his studie? who wrote his workes but himselfe? I will not stande vpon examples: was not Dauid a braue souldiour? A man worthie of great honour? did hee not bestow great time in his Psalmes? Had he not as great a delight in his Booke, as in Battaile? Well, was he not in loue with Berseba? and was hee not so [...]ie for it? Well, though he serued our Ladie a little, hée loue [...] God best, and God loued him for all his offence: and why? for that hee left his follie, was sorie for his sinne, and was ashamed of himselfe: hee craued mercie in heart, and was therefore receyued into fauour▪
Wherefore good sir condemne not schollers for seruing Ladies, which in deed is your meaning: for Bersebae▪ beautie, bewitched the wittes of King Dauid, and made him quite forget his Wisedome. Nowe there are sewe King Dauids left for their wisedome: but for beautie, many Bersabaes. If then the worlde be as full of fayre Ladies, as euer it was, and not men of so rare wisedome? Blame not schollers for their seruice, nor make souldiours saints for their minds to God-ward?
But as Dauid was both a good souldiour, and no worse scholler: and Marcus Aurelius, as good a scholler as a souldiour, and were therfore more honored then the vnlearned Captains: so I pray you grant, that the vali [...]nt scholler▪ in honour, is to be preferred before the vnlearned souldiour: [Page] And that the Scholler is so fit a Companion for the Souldiour, as they can not well be one without the other, and beeing togither, do deserue the greatest honour of all men liuing. There is such a loue and vnion betwirt them, and the one is so necessarie vnto the other, that some men thinke, the one and the other is as it were Alter [...]ple: so that they do deserue like honour, and not one to be higher then the other. Now sir, what say you? Will you thinke so well of the Scholler, or not▪
Baléeue mée Scholler, since thou cemest so neere mée, welcome: This I must say to thee, I see thou hast a good minde to a Souldiour: and therefore since thou art entred into tra [...]ile, and I haue beene in some skirmishes, let vs both forget we are at home: and being héere, let vs determine to season our selues for all weathers, let our faithfull prayer be our defence against the Diuell, and all his temptations: my sworde [...]ee our defence agaynst bodily enemies, and thy wise counsaile my comfort, to arine my selfe with patience. Let vs feare neither fire nor water, care for no weather, faire nor foule: sticke not for night, nor day: take what we finde thankefully, part it friendly, and spende it merily: liue togither louingly, and die vertuously: so shall we be spoken of on earth & amously, and liue in Heauen eternallie: which that God may graunt willingly, let vs fall downe presently, and pray heartily, that we may rise roundly, walke wisely, and speede luckely. What saiest thou Scholer?
Oh sir, right gladly: and since you haue so courteously vouchsaied mee your companie, I here sweare my selfe, your owne at commaundement alwayes, and as much as may bee▪ I reioyce to haue found you, I hepe to liue with you, and neuer to leaue you, so dearely I loue you, [Page 33] that I will die with you, ere I will forsake you: and as you doo loue me, so put your trust in me, and this bee sure of me, that you shall commaund mee, till liues ende beleeue mee. Now that we may togither, to the heauenly place thither, the onely place whither, the Scholler, espieth, the good Souldiour hieth: with humble he artes l [...]tte vs pray, that we may walke the way, that at the latter day, we may haue cause to say, Truth will not lead a stray. To which good & blessed place▪ God grant vs all his grace, that when wee haue runne this race, that wee may walke apace, that within little space, wee may all face to face, beholde our blessed Lord, whose name with one accord, lette vs with laude record. And so let the souldiour, make much of the Scholler, and trust to the Scholler, that he loues the Souldiour, and let vs bee sure of this, when wee doo pray, i [...]is, Gods hand doth neuer misse, to worke for our auaile.
THus did the Souldiour, put the Scholler out of his Nothing: and togither they are gon about something: But for that I knowe not what, till I see them againe, I will héere bid them farewell, and with my selfe wishe you well: Promising that if I doo méete them, you shall hears what became of them.
Till when, and euer, God so blesse vs héere, that we with ioyfull ch [...]re, may all at once appeare, before his heauenly throne, to which his grace alone, guide vs right euery one, both Men, Women and Children: I would he were hanged, that will not say.
The Praise of vertuous Ladies.
An Inuectiue against the discourteous discourses, of certaine Mailcious persons, written against Women, whome Nature, Wit, and Wisedome (well considered) would vs rather honour, then disgrace. For proofe whereof, eade what followes.
VVritten by the saide Author. N. Breton, Gentleman.
Hic & haec homo. Considera quid mulier?
To the Courteous, and gentle Reader.
GEntlemen & others to whose viewe shall come this woonderfull peece of worke of the praise of womē (considering how little cause of commendation, is found in a number of them.) I beseeche you, before you begin to read: resolue with your selues, to take in good part, what you thinke I haue written against my conscience. And though I haue perhaps, as great cause to write the contrarie, in respect of the little good that I haue founde in some: Yet the hope of good, that I haue to find by fauour of some one, (none such) hath made me in the behalfe of women generally, (for her sake) say as much as I wish all to approoue, and I would as gladly affirme. In the meane time, I hope I haue offered none iniurie, in dooing them a courtesie: I craue pardon of none, for saying my minde, and good [Page] though [...]s of them, of whome I deserue it. Meaning, to deserue as wel as I may of all the world, and desiring too, as little ill to any as may be. Thus wishing you, to wish Women no better, then you see them woorthy. I pray you wishe me no woorse then your selues, as I wishe all you. From my Chamber in the Blacke Fryers: this present and alwaies.
The Author, to the vertuous Ladies and Gentlewomen.
LAdies and Gentlewomen, or other well disposed what soeuer: I haue (in your commendations) saide as much as I hope you will deserue: and more then I thinke hath beene said for you this great while. Nowe if yet thinke that I haue said, is said for flatterie, you should shewe me little fauour. For to flatter all, I should but haue a floute of a number: and to speake well of all, I hope will make none mine enemie. I craue no f [...]rther friendship then I deserue, nor greater thankes, then may requite good will, which wisheth well to ye all, that are well minded: and if you thinke I haue saide trulie, in that I haue written, thanke your selues for giuing so good occasion: if contrarie▪ doo your endeuonr to make good what I haue saide, and will bee glad to see: and so rest, ready to do [...] you agreater seruice. From my chamber, in the Blacke Fryers.
The praise of vertuous Ladies, and Gentlewomen.
WHen I peruse and consider of y• strang discourses of diuers fantesticall fellowes, that haue no grace, but in disgracing of women, in Inuectiues against them, in most despitefull description of their dissimulations, in such shameful setting out of their sexe. Wherby for a fewe mad headed wenches, they séeke to bring all, yea, most modest Matrons, and almost all Women in contempt: surely, mee thinkes, I can terme them by no name fitter for theyr folly, then madde men, that fame would be Authors of somewhat, and knowing not what to take in hand, runne headlong into such absurdities, as redounde to their v [...]ter dishonor. For let a man not quite forget himselfe, and but a litt' [...] looke into himselfe, hee shall see so great a parte of a Woman in him selfe: as that, except he w [...]ll runne from him selfe, hee cannet but with as great honour account of them as of himselfe, Let me goe to the beginning, was not the first Woman made out of man? and was shee then any thing else, but a péece o [...] himselfe, Nowe when some would [...] against her, for her d [...]t: did shee it of her selfe? no, it was by the Serpent. And further, if a man should consider narrowlie of it: was shee any other then himselfe, that deceiued himselfe? F [...] the [...] more, if it were but for the paines they take, in bringing vs into the worlde, besides the pleasure that wee haue in the worlde: [Page] wee ought rather to couer any crime, or cause that might breede their discredit, th [...]n of our selues vnworthely to seeke th [...]r defame.
Some men may thinke, that some one Woman hath hired me, to flatter all, or else, by flattering of all, I shuld hop [...] of fauour of some one. Some will say, perhaps hee hath a Woman to his mother: some other, a Woman to his Mistresse: some other, he is sworne to the Candlesticke: other, it is pittie he was not made a woman: and some, oh he is a good Womans man.
Now, all these I answere in their kindes: as all Women are not of one nature, so neither are all Natures of one disposition: as one loues to be flattered, so other loue to be flatlie dealt withall. Therefore if I shoulde seeke to flatter all, I should but floute my selfe: and commonly, the hyre of flatterie is but hate, which is so colde a comfort to any mans Conscience, as he were well woorthie of a frumpe for his folly, that would bée hyred, to such a seruice. Further, they are fooles that loue to bee flattered, and Women haue euer naturally had so much wit, as to finde a falsehood in a fayre tale. But if fayre woordes bee truly spoken, and by authoritie confirmed: they cannot but be as fréendlie taken, as fully allowed. Wherefore, my woords in their behalfe, shall shew testimony of my true meaning, else let me abide the slander, of such hipocrisie as is hatefull to an honest minde.
That I haue a Woman to my Mother, I graunt, and am heartily glad off: for surely, he that is not borne of a Woman, wants a péece of a Man, and he that despiseth his Mother, in that shée is a Woman: is to be disdained him selfe, in that he is no Man. are we not commaunded by God, to honour Father and Mother: Is it not written in the holy Scriptures, Thou shalt honour thy Father, b [...] thy Mothers paines shalt thou neuer forget: Then remember the commaundement, and doo thy Mother [Page 66] due reuerence: disdaine her not, for feare of Gods displeasure: discredit her not, for GOD and mans disliking: defame her not, for feare of thy Soules destruction.
Now some will say, that I haue a Woman to my Mistresse, I not denie it, for Saintes are none vpon the earth, and Diuels I would be loath to do [...] seruice too. A Woman of honour, may well be Mistresse to a Man of worship: in reason consider, and grant me this: what Souldiour so valiant? what courtiour so fint? and what scholler fo profound: but will vse his armes, his allegaunce, and his art to win the fauour of his Mistresse.
I haue heard some talke theyr pleasure in a heate, that the fayrest Lady in the world, shuld not make them steupe to their Lure. But when (without an Hostler) they walked themselues a cold: oh then ere long recant al, it was not I, and cry Pecca [...], for a fauourable looke, of an indifferent face,
Now some wil say, that I am sworne to the candlestick, such I wish their noses in the socket. And this I say further, my faith was not yet so much had in question, to bee called to the Candlesticke: but if he that say so, haue beene brought to the like booke oath, I wish hee had eaten the stringes for his labour.
Some will say, it is pittie he was not made a Woman: I woonder why? my beautie is not such, to allure a wanton eye, nor mine eye [...]o wanton, to allure a wicked minde, my qualities are not onely fit for a Chamber, nor in my chamber alwaies in bed. Then what see these fellowes in me? if they say so, they knowe not why, I answer them, I care not h [...]w.
Nowe some will saye, oh, hee is a good Womans man: beleeue mee, I thinke it bette [...] to bee thought, a good Womans man, then an ill mans Woman. But [Page] as no man can be counted a man [...] Woman, but figurat [...]e: so then a good Womans man, I thinke a man cannot bee tearmed more fitlie: but if any man speake it in scorne, I answere him in scoffe: if he speake it in despite of Women, let them [...] him: if [...] displeasure with me, as he is angrie without a cause, he shall be pleased without amends.
A [...]d to conclude, I am of this minde, that as nowe the worl [...] goes: he is verie pre [...]se, or little wise, that would not rather choose the fauour of one woman, then the frien [...] ship of any man. Now hauing made answere to these obiections, I wil goe onwards with my opinion, touching the worthinesse of Women.
Let me see what man was euer so good, so iust, so pittifull, so [...]becall, so learned, so Famous, for rare excellencies: But there maye be founde a Woman, euerie waies his matche? fetche authoritie out of Scripture▪ Was not the blessed [...]irgin Ma [...]ie a Woman? how good did God th [...]nke her, that hee would vouchsafe to conioyne in her most holy wombe, his diuine Grace, with her humaine Nature? Mée thinkes there is no man of any good minde at all, but would thinke well of all Women [...]or her sake: and such as are not good, to wi [...]he them grac [...] to amend, rather then so to difgrace them, as makes them neuer haue heart to fall to good againe. Admitte [...] was ill, so was Adam too. Cruell was the Woman that killed her Childe, so was Caine, in killing his owne brother Abell. But leauing discommendations: now to commend for perticuler causes. For beléefe, who before the Woman of Canaan? For repentaunce, Marie M [...]gdalen? And for causes touching saluation, what greater pointes then Faith with pemtenc [...]e? For worldlie caus [...]s touching Fame. What greater vertue, then Learning? the grounde of all knowledge, howe better knowne then by appara [...], and where? but where [Page 67] there is none such, I list not to trouble you, with recounting the names of worthie Ladies, let this suffice, if there neuer were any so worthie [...]emmendation, as men before this instant age: yet nowe is to bée founde a Woman worthie a more worthie name (if more worthie might bée) who for repentant Faith, with rare Uertues, may bée as well honoured of all godly mindes, as with woonderfull loue, woorshipped of all good mindes. Was there euer man learned? so is shée? and by his learning Uertuous? no lesse is Shée? and by his Uertues Fa [...]ous? Shée as much as hée. Nowe though there bée none such as Shée, yet as shée is of all most excellent, so are there some other for commendation, more then indifferent. But for that I will not giue too much to anie, nor can giue her sufficient▪ I say this for all Women, that men are madde that séekes their dishonour. The Prouerbe sayes, That it is an euill Birde, will file the owne nest. Then let man consider the Henne that hatcheth him, and he woulde bée loath, to haue the Cocke haue all the meate from her.
Some disprayse Uirgins, because they be obstinate? for my selfe, I thinke it a signe of ill nature in a Woman, to bée hard hearted. But if it come with care of Credite, or content, I will allowe it, say Louers what they list, for that fittes one mans [...]ye, is farre from [...]tting another mans fancie: He may like, and she may loath, shée may loue, and he not like. All are not of one mould, one minde, one nature, one complexion, nor one condition: Loue hath no reason in his choyse, then such as haue founde such hard dealing in fayre Damosels: let them consider of thes [...] clauses, and let them alone. Lucke is a great matter in loue, and so let it rest.
Some will dispraise women for wantonnesse, surely, I am perswaded, if the worlde were examined, we should [...]nde a Iacke an Ap [...]s, as wanton as [...] Monkie: We [Page] should [...]nde a young man as wanton, in looking B [...] bies, in a Ladies eyes, as her with flirting him on the Lippes with her l [...]tle Finger: him as wanton in wearing a Toy, as her in wishing the like: him as wanton in his deuices, as shee in desyres: and he in desires, as much as shee in delights: hee as wanton in c [...]st, as shee in colours: hee as wanton in gift, as shee in receite.
What shall I say? he as wanton as shee euery way, and shee one way wiser then hee: if shee bée bragge of her Beautie, hee is as proude of his proper personage: if shée stretch out a fine hande, hée strouteth out a straight Legge: if shee haue her hand on the Pette in her Cheeke, hée is twyrking of his Mustachios: if shee play the wanton with a little Dogge, hée will bée so wanton as to wish himselfe a Whelpe. To bée short, if shée bée vaine in one thing, hee will bée as little vertuous in an other.
Some will say, Women are couetous, are not men as handfast? besides liberalitie, of courtesie, bréedes losse of credite. Let not men bee niggards, if they will haue Women franke hearted, Some will say, Women are yll Mystresses, they giue slender wages in deede: I haue heard some called [...]naus, twentie tymes a daye, yet hath not had halfe that hee deserued. Some sawcie seruaunt will looke for a fauour, before hée deserues a fayre looke. And some seruauntes thinkes their Mystresse is couetous, though they giue them neuer so much, if they giue not themselues also. But such as [...] haue all, sh [...]ll loose all.
Therefore, let men weigh liberalitie in kinde, and they shall finde Women frée hearted, in extending fauour (not fullie deserued) and themselues couetous, in béeing neuer contented. Some will say, Women are foolish: hée neuer heard that the wisedome of a Woman, should b [...] no [Page 68] more then to goe out of the raine, when shée is in it, and know her husbands bedde from another mans.
But now a dayes men be so phantasticall (I dare not say foolish) that if a Woman bee not so wise as to make a man a foole, shée is no wise Woman: No forsooth, but he is a very wise man to match with such a Woman. Women haue Witte naturally: wisedome must be hadde by Grace, Grace was giuen to our Lady: then who wiser then a woman? Weigh worldly wisdome by wit and experience, and let mee see who, with all the experiments hée can deuise, can make a Woman a foole in any thing, but himselfe in the same as v [...]wise.
Some will say Women are vnconstant, but I say not all: for Penelope, and Cleopatra, Luc [...]etia with diuers more too long to rehearse, shall stand for examples of such constancie, as no man euer more constant. And for [...]olly in Fancie: who wiser then Salomon, who more wanton in Loue?
Some will say Women are deceitfull, but they that say so, bee such as d [...]ceiue themselues in Women: so thinke them trustie. For as well of men as Women, it is sayde: Fere nulla fides est in terris. Lette not men cosen themselues with a wilfull conceite: beleeue no more then reason leades them to. And they shall finde Women but like themselues, deu [...]sing all meanes they may, and employing the best witte they haue to worke theyr willes. And for deceit, what greater treason was euer found in any woman, then in Iuda [...] when he betrayed Christ.
But leauing this, some will say, a Woman is a necessarie euill. That she [...] is necessarie I graunt, but euill I denie, except i [...] be meant onely in respect of man, that desireth not any thing that is good, and so, his desire makes her ill in estimation of minde, for that shée is the [Page] ontent of an ill conceite: but (indéede, well considered) he should finde, that the ill were in his conceite onely, and not in the Woman, who is no other substance then another himselfe. And if I must graunt, as I cannot choose, that there is none good but God: so indéede I must yeelde, that Woman is ill, and man no better, for if that Woman be ill, howe can man be good, vnto whome ill is so necessarie? But whether may man bee thought worse then ill, that will vse that ill, worse then it should [...]e? Therefore, let man first mende his minde, before hée so discommend a substance of his owne naturall kinde.
Some will say, Women are pittifull, howe is that knowne? by lookes and speeches: men are more: which is showen, as well in words of mouth, as writing.
Some will say, a Woman is a wo to man, who put in that to, did it of his owne authoritie, and therefore it is not to be allowed.
For consider right of the word, and the to is as well left out, as the worde falsely written, for indéede it ought to be written Woman, not Woman, for that shée dooth woo Man with her Uertues, who wedde [...] her with vanitie. For man being of wit sufficient to consider of the Uertues of a Woman, is (as it were) rauished with the delight of those dainties, which do (after a sort) draw the senses of man to serue them.
Now a Woman hauing not so déepe a capacitie to conceiue or iudge of the conditions of man, is onely wedded to his will: which thing how vaine it is, is seene when it is bent to little vertue.
Some haue a delight to tearme Women by nickenames, as in the doore shée is an Image. But how wise is the man, that hath his wittes so cosened? to take one thing for another? They be Lunaticke, or in Loue, that worshippe such Idols. And this I will say further, if shée be an Image, shée is liker nothing then a man: in [Page 69] she house, shée is a number of things: in the kitchin shée is a cormorant: I [...] shee dresse meate, is shée not woorthy to eate? I haue séene a man eate the meate that a woman hath dressed: and men liker Cranes, then Women Cormoraunts. In the milke house shée is a Catte: why? if shee milke a Cowe, is shée not worthie to taste it for her labour? In the Cheese shée is a Mouse: why? shée sette the Curdes together, should shée not taste the meate. In the bakehouse she is a Bée, for her busie stirring about. Yet her sting is but her tongue, that hurts no body, except shée be troubled: then allowe the Bée her Hiue, and let her rest. In the Buttrie shée is a Sprite, but shée dooth no hurt, but fray a Mouse from the bread, and a theefe from the Cubborde. In the Seller shee is a Sowe, and yet I haue seene one Dutch man drinke more then fiue English women. In the Hall shée is a Hare, but béeing tame, take heede how you hunt her. In the Parler shee is a P [...]rat, shée learnes but what is taught her, and an Almonde will please her. In the Chamber shee is a Birde, and who sings swéeter then the Nightingale? In the bedde shee is a Flea, if shee layde on the Blankets, shée is more woorthy to lye in the Sheetes.
But well, if it were not for making women to be worse then they would be, I would tell them howe they might tear me men in sundrie places, both within and without the house. But let this suffice, I meane but onely to commende Women, and not offend men. And if I haue vnwittingly offended any, I willingly aske pardon of all, with promise of amendes, if my power serue me.
For qualities worthy commendation, sée who is to bee preferred, the Man or the Woman? without the house for husbandri [...]: if hée mowe, shée can [...]edde: if hee [...]edde, [Page] shée can turne: if he cocke, shée can rake: if hée loade, she can laye abroade: if hée sowe, shee can reape: i [...] hee can shocke, shée can binde Sheafes: if hee can thresh, shee can Fanne: if hée grinde, shée can boult: if hée lay Leauen, shée can heate the Ouen: If hée knowe howe to buy a Cowe, shée can milke her: if hée breake a Horse, shée can ride to the Market on him: if he buye a Sowe, shee can serue her: if hee bring home the milke, shée can sette it together: if hee make a Panne, shée can fleete the milke: if hée make a Chearne, she can make Butter: if hée make a Presse, shée can make Chéese: If he dresse the Garden, shee can wéede it: if hée sowe good Hearbes, shee can gather Sallets: if hee sette swéete Flowers, shee can make a fine Nosegaye: if hée gather good Hearbes, shée can make good Pottage: if hée bee a good Cooke, shée is a good Dairie Woman: if hee bee a good Baker, shee is a good Brewer: if hée bée good in the Pantrie, shée is as good in the Pastrie: if hee bee at his Penne, shee is at her Needle: if hee bee a good Taylor, shee is a good Se [...]pster: and if he bee a good Brusher, shée is a good Launder. And which is more woorthy loue, a cleane Shyrte, or a fine Coate?
Nowe in higher causes: if hée be Ualiaunt, shee is Uertuous: if hée can leape well, shee can daunce well: if hée can playe well, shée can sing well: if hee can commende, shée can thankfully consider: and if hée can take it well, shée can thinke it well bestowed: if hee can write, shee can reade: if hee can sweare truely, shee can beleeue faythfully: if he can deserue, shee can giue due if hee can like honourably, shée can loue heartily. In fine, if hee haue any good qualitie, shee hath another.
[Page 70]It were but a follie, to fill my Booke with examples, of this Woman for constancie, and that for fidelitie, an other for Huswiferie, and the other Woman, for worthie wit. Let this suffice in braefe, there is in sickenesse no greater comfort, in health no better companion, to a wise man, then a wittie woman.
Nowe for wise women, I thinke his should shew him selfe a verie vnwise man that woulde wish for such a one. I remember a prettie speech, once vttered by a verie wise man: when a man (as it séemed) not verie wise, came to him for his counsaile, what he might doo, to come by a certaine Iewell, that was stollen from him out of his Chamber: and (hauing told his losse) before he would heare of his aduise. Sir (quoth he [...] were I not best to go to a wise woman. Yes marry (quoth hée) if you knewe where any such were. Meaning that they were so hard to hit on, that it were but follie to secke them. Nowe what pittie it is to sée some men so vnwise, to thinke such wisedome in any Woman: after he had lost his Iewell if hee would e haue lookt into himselfe, and found his owne follie, before hee had seught such wisedome in a woman: hee should haue seene that it were more wisdome for a man, to keepe that he hath warely, then vnwisely to runne to a woman, to seeke for wit how to finde it againe.
But I will stand no more vpon this poynt, let it suffice that it is wisedome for a man to take heede, that a Woman be not wiser then himselfe: and howe wise so euer he bee, to count them no fooles. For in déede, as the common Prouerbe is, The wit of a Woman is a great matter: and true, when a man with all his wisedome, is sometime to learne wit of her.
In mine opinion, I heard a verie wise speech of a verie wittie Woman, touching the wisedome (if any) that ought to bee in a Woman. In a Mayde, to take care in choyse of a Husbande: in a marryed woman, to loue [Page] none but her husband: in a widow, to prouide for her children: in an old woman, to haue care of her end.
Now for men, if a Batcheler take heed what wife hée takes, and hauing taken a wife, to loue no other woman: a Widdower, to looke for his children, before a newe wife, and an olde man his graue: is it amisse? no I warrant yee. Nowe men must bee wise, in caring for Women, and themselues to, and Women no wyser, then in caring for such men as care for them. But if a man bée so vnwise to trouble a Womans wit to care for him? howe wise is hee? and what a wit hath shoe. Confesse you that haue guiltie consciences, and learne to bee wise: and thinke this sufficient commendation for a Woman, if shee bee a Uirgin for chastitie, with Uirginitie vertuous, of condition courteous, and true of loue: such a Woman ought to bee, and if such they be not, pray for them as I dee, and such as are, honour them as worthie: and for their sakes, all other whatsoeuer they bee, iudge the best till you see the contrarie: and where you knowe it, shake your heade and say nothing: but it is pittie, God hath done his part in her, God amend her: put the fault in pride, and not in her. And you shall fee such a chaunge, that it was not shee, no forsooth (as little children say) it was the Bulbegger.
They say nowe, the worlde is towardes the last yeare, and men towarde theyr last wittes: then let Women bee towardes their first Wisedome. And if they shew but little Wisedome: yet let that haue such commendation, that they may bee encouraged, to continue and encrease the same. For surely (well considered) a man can not do honour to a more worthie person, then a Woman. Is it not an abuse in a man to disprayse his friende? What greater friend to a man, then a Woman? who can discommend that he loues? except he dissemble sore? hypocrisie is as ill as heresie. What can a man loue more [Page 71] then a Woman? what, such loue as betwixt them? Marrie some will say, they must loue déerely, or hate deadly. God forbidde, that anie man should bée out of charitie: I would thinke it a harde matter to hate a woman. Yet since it is possible to doo little better: I thinke it wisdome to conceale it, for there is nothing gotten by reuealing it.
Well, not to séeme tedious, let me drawe towards an ende: thinke well of as many as you may, loue whome you haue cause, hate none, whatsoeuer you thinke, say nothing in their dishonour, least you growe in their vtter dislyking: and then your roome as good as your company. When you seeke for fauonr, take a flowte with you: I maruaile you can away so long with a Womans companie, [...]c.
But well, to anoyde the frumpes, flowtes, skowles, disdainefull spéeches, quippes, tauntes, and angrie couutenaunces, that Women will soone bestow, where they sée cause, doo this: if you cannot loue, yet doo not loath: if you will not honour, yet doo not hate: if your conscience let you not, commend them, yet let your courtesie not let you doo the contrarie. Remember your Mother, forget not your friend▪ offend not your Mistresse, and make much of your selfe: If you like my counsaile, followe it: if not disdaine it not: if you loue a Woman, remember mée: if you care for none, wee will none of vs trouble you: if wee doo it, it is agaynst our willes. But who is he that loues not a Woman? and wherefore then will any looke awrie vpon mée? I knowe not, and shall I say I care not? Well, let it goe, since it is not, I doo all for the best, and I trust the best will take it so: as for the rest, there lyes neither life nor death vpon a looke, and therefore hoping the best, I will not doubt the contrarie. And if men be as well contented with me for this prayse of Women, as I am determined to content them, with the like of them [Page] héereafter: if will be not froward, and Wit faile me not, I trust the Ace of Diamonds will go to the stocke, and cuerie man will be pleased. In the meane time aboute some better worke, then I meane to make boast of: I must attend my Haruest, ere I fall to Hawking.
Thus if I said anie thing amisse, God forgiue mée: if I haue sayde well, God bée thanked, take it among you: if I haue said truly, it is not to be blamed, if otherwise, I haue but spoken mine opinion, which I hope to see fully approued. And so sorie, if I haue sayd that the wise will mistike, and glad if I haue written, that the good will take well. I conclude of a suddaine, with this short sentence, Hic & haec homo, Considera quid mulier, Like of them as you list, loue whom you can: when you séeke for fauour. God send you good fortune. And so fare you well.
A Dialogue betweene Anger and Patience.
FIe on the world, the flesh, and the Diuell.
What is the matter?
The world is naught.
It may amend.
When it is too late.
Better late then neuer.
As good neuer a whit, as neuer the better.
A crust is better then no bread at all.
A crust is hard of disgestion.
Not for a hungrie stomacke.
Oh, it will aske vile chewing.
Take time enough.
My belly will thinke my throate cut, that I [...]eede no faster.
A little sufficeth Nature.
When she hath enough.
Then shee néedes no more.
Yea, but where is that enough.
In Gods Grace.
Why, I haue the grace of GOD, but I want the wealth of the world, to grace my selfe withall.
Alas, the brauerie of the world is but beggerie before God. And the rich man to heauen, goes as a Cammell through a needles eye.
Yea, but begging is a vile life in the meane time.
Then worke.
That goes against the Wooll.
Paines brings profit.
I haue often lost my labour.
Take héed th [...]n howe you worke.
Had I wist was a foole.
Then learne to be wise.
But how.
Not with hasse.
How much leysure?
A little and a little.
Wordes are good, but that they bring no substance.
A colde winde is good in a hotte Summer.
Yea, but the winde of wordes is but a blast.
I perceiue one cooling card will n [...]t s [...]rue a hot gam [...]ster.
Oh what a slaue was I?
Wherefore?
Play, play.
Play no more.
Oh, Primero.
Rest from rests.
And what shall I do?
Be quiet.
I cannot.
What troubles you?
All things, Men Women, and Children: Men be [...], Women worse, and Children costly.
Condemne not all for a few, and take héede whome you trust. Men are wise, Women wittie, and Children must bee cared for.
Why doost thou crosse me.
To [...] thée to right.
Why? whether was I going?
From thy selfe.
Why, am I mad.
No, but in a melancho [...]y.
That is but an humour.
[...] y [...]u whereof it comes?
No, I pray you tell me.
Of Choller.
How should I get helpe [...]it,
It must be purged by Patience▪
That is forst Phisicke.
Yet will it worke well.
When shall I take it?
Euening and morning, and euery day.
For how long?
during life.
What? wil [...] thou bind me to a diet?
That shall do the good, refuse not.
What shall I pay for i [...]?
[...].
Who shall haue it.
Selfe will.
Will that please him?
Hee may n [...]t refuse it▪
When must I pay it.
When you take your Phisicke.
What good will it doo mee?
Great: It will cleare you of [Page 73] Choller, it will make you finde a new world: teach you how to knowe your friendes, and to beware of your foes: the way to a quiet life, a happie ende, and Heauen hereafter.
Oh, good Phisick.
None such.
When is it good taking it.
In the fall or spring, or at any other time.
Howe shall I take it?
Fasting in the morning, and [...]ate what you can gette after: Sléepe not before your eyes be together, and kéepe you as warme as your cloathes will giue you leaue: walke vp and downe about your businesse, and suppe not late, except you haue not eaten any thing all d [...]y before. Kéepe this order, and my life for yours, this heate of yours will quite away, kéepe it for an excellent péece of Phisicke: You may make it with a little cost, and no great labour.
Syr, for your good will I thanke you, but for your Medicine I gesse it of meane effect: yet for that I am troubled with a Melancholie, I meane to trie your cunning. In the meane time I will fetch a sigh for my sinnes, and bidde you fare well. I am but yong, and [...]m going to age: hee hath promised me to learne mée some good Lessons.
And with him shall you finde me, and so till we méete, farewell,
Thus is Youth gone to Age, of whose méeting [...] shall heare more ere long: In the meane time I craue you, Patience, to beare with that hath passed, and if héereafter you heare of any better stuffe: thinke of it as it deserues, and of mee as you haue cause, in minde to giue you as good cause as I can, to thinke the best of me.
Meane time, hoping I haue giuen no man cause to say ill by [...], I wish all [...]he worlde to thinke the best of euerie man, and so of mée among the rest. Who wish [Page] none ill, but all as well as I desire them to wish mée: And so fare you well.
NOw Gentlemen, when I had finisht vp my booke, and bade you farewell, came to my remembraunce, an olde peece of Phisicke, good for s [...]ch persons as are sicke like my selfe, which for that I guesse it as profitable as it may seeme pleasaunt: I am to desire you to reade a little more what followes. It was my happe▪ (not many months since) to be verie sicke, when, so weake as I could not well walke abroade: I tooke my pen, and wrote vnto my friends, of such matters as stoode me vppon not to let slip, Among which, my health beeing not the least thing that I tooke care of: I wrote vnto a friend of mine, whom I counted a good Phisition, to minister me some such Phisicke, as he thought good for the disease. Now the man well acquainted with the cause, and minding rather to comfort me with some merrie counsaile, then weaken mee with too many Medicines: wrote me word, to obserue such a diet, as I think is verie requisite for all men, that shall [...]all into like Feuer, to take care to keepe: and when they haue found as much ease, as I haue done in it, then I shall haue as much thankes as he had: but least I seeme [...]edious ere I begin, thus it was.
A Phisitions Letter.
COmmendations considered, so [...]e for your heauinesse, yet glad of your good remembrance, (notwithstanding, your great weaknesse:) This is to let you vnderstand, that nowe you are determined to take my counsaile, and trouble your selfe with no more Phisicke. Upon Thursday fortnight (God willing) I meane to sée you: till when, for that I sée no daunger of death in you, I haue héere written you worde, what order you shall take, and when I come, we will talke further. First considering that the cause growes of conceyte, which hath bredde such a hearts gréefe in you, as will hardly bée cured without Gods great goodnesse: and yet by his grace, is not past helpe. This you shall doo, thinke not of that you haue lost, for the losse will gaine you nought, but gréefe: and cast not to get any thing ill, least the gaine bréede as great an after sorrow as the losse? and to recouer your health, and estate by such good meanes as it way continue, this you shall do▪ Obserue this order.
In the morning when you rise, serue God, and hee will see to you: washe your handes with running water, it is good for the heate of the Liuer: make your breakfast of a warme broath, which you shall make of Hearbes in this sort. Take a handfull of Time, and put as much Rewe into it: stampe with these two, a roote or two of Repentan [...], and straine them into a fayre Dish, with the iuyce Parseline, let it stande on the fire till it bee luke warme, then taste it with your fingers ende, and if you like it not, throwe it out at the Windowe: vpon my worde, it will neuer hurt you. For your meate, you may nowe and [Page 75] then, if your stomacke stande to fleshe, eate of a little warme Mutton, but take héede it be not laced, for that is ill for a sicke body: For chaunge now and then, eate of a Rabbet, it is as restoritiue, olde Cunnies are to drye, and too harde of digestion. You may nowe and then eate of a Larke, it is good and light meate, but Buntings are to bitter. A Partridge is not a misse, but eate not of a plu [...] Plouer. A Chicke now and then of a moneth olde, but Marche Birds are to strong meate. A Woodcocke manis sicke folkes may be bold withall▪ but a Goose of all other, is a vile Bird, a perillous meate, for a sicke person. And of all meates, Foule or other fleshe, whatsoeuer, take héede of Uenison, as Does fleshe, and Hares fleshe, and such like, they are stirring meates, and will distemper the body verie much.
For [...]she, of all, beware of swallowing a Gudgine whole, or a Leaping Whyting, a Goddes heate, is not verie good, and a salte [...]ele is vnholsome: if I lye, aske the Ship Boye. Drinke not too much Wine, leasts it inflame the bloud, and bring the Purse into a consumption.
Comforte your selfe with hope of better happe, then you haue had, considering you cannot well haue woorse. Followe harde the good worke you haue in hande, and finishe it as well as you haue begunne, it will make you amendes for a great deale of mispent time, it will purchase you credit, payment for your paines, good thoughts of your betters, thanks of your fréends, and content to your selfe.
Thus loth to trouble you, with any more matter at this time, I pray you followe my counsaile, and when I come, tell mée what ease you finde: In the meane time, as the Fidler sayes, I praye you bee merie, as you may (I meane) though not as you woulde, and so God kéepe [Page] you, send you your health, both of vs his grace, and all fréendes a merrie meeting. In haste from my Chamber, in Smithfielde.
A farewell.
WHen I had receiued this Letter fr [...]m this my fréendly Phisition, I tooke more comfort in the mnth of this order set downe, then care for the obseruance of the same. But as newe and then a sick mans spirits shall be somewhat more reuiued vpon a suddaine merie iest, then a sullen medicine, so was I more pleased with this merie ceunsail [...], thē I thinke I should haue béene with this Phisicke: but as in health [...] better company, than a pleasant frende: so, in sicknesse, no better comfort, then a merie companion.
I must née [...]es say, both doo well: for, as Phisicke doth minister Medicines, to purge such ill humors, as doo in [...] the blood, infect the Liuer, and so bring the body in [...] diseases: so dooth the pleasaunt spéeche of an honest fréende, purge the minde of such melancholicke conceites, as bring the braine into such hurlie burlie, as that all the body is the woorse for it. For make the body neuer so cleane from all causes of infection, yet let the minde be di [...]nbed, within a little time you shall see the body brought into such sicknesse, as is hardly to bee cured. But lette a man bee neuer so sicke, if he haue the companie of such a companion, as he may finde content with all: his sicknesse, will by little and little so soone away, as all the art in the worlde is not able to doo without it. What shall I further saye? There is no sicknesse, no sore, as that growes of sorrowe, no better meane to cure it, then the company of a contentiue fréende: and whereas company cannot bee had: merie counsaile must serue the turne. I speake by experience in sorrow no man sicker, with Phisicke no man wealter: desiring myrth, no man more enioying no man lesse, by Gods good helpe, in the middest of this miserie, found a fréende vnlookt for, that séeing me in [Page] such extrem [...]tie, of a suddaine, [...]ell into a great laughing, not for [...]oye to see my sorrowe, but for a woonder to sée me in su [...] a wofull case? Now knowing my fr [...]ndes nature, scarce able to force a smile, I laughed a litle for company.
Nowe to make me merie, the best Medicine for a suddaine m [...]ting, he begins to tell me what hap he had to [...]isit sicke Folkes: For that not an houre before he had béene with a verie fréende of mine, and his too, whom he had left halfe franticke, of a fantasticall Fe [...]er. Fors [...]the, he was s [...] farre in Lou [...], as nothing woulde serue his [...], but Death.
No grace with him, but shaking the he [...]de with a terrible sigh or two: and not a woorde, but [...], and oh, and now and thē rise off his bed in a rage, knitting his browe [...], with Cancro, and then hee spake Italian, and by and by make obeysaunce to the window, d [...]wne on his knée [...], l [...] vp his hands, kisse his hand, l [...]t fall a teare or two, with madame: and with that word [...]eare open his buttons, throw [...] off his hat, fling away his Pantofles, breake all the strings of his Lute, knocke the belly against the bedde poste, and runne to his Sworde, when then it was time to catch [...] hold [...] of him, and so with fréendlie perswasions, to bring him to better quiet. And in the ende o [...] his tale, but thou art not so: when God knowes, hée fo [...]de me in farre tamer taking. Yet to bee short, with this pleasaunt Tale, h [...] tri [...]ed out the time, til my fit was ouer: when wee fell to such fréendly communication, as merily passed away that day, and after many mo, til in the ende with Gods helpe, I recouered, to whome bee giuen the glori [...] of all health: wh [...] in deede in health, is the onely good freend, and in sicknesse, the onely Phisition, that comforteth, and cureth the most sicke, that trusteth in his heauenly helpe.
Thus haue you heard, what good a merie f [...]éend [...]oth [...] of sicknesse: which (as you shall haue occasion) sende [Page] [...]r to your comfort, alwaies accou [...]ting and h [...]uring God as the cheefest P [...]isition. To whome for our health, and oth [...] his benifites otherwise bestowed v [...]on vs, be giuen all glory and [...]aise, world without ende. Amen.
A Table of the Discourses.
- THe first: The Will of Wit. Fol. 1
- The second: The Authors Dreame. Fol. 10
- The third: The Scholler and the Souldiour. Fol. 21
- The fourth: The Miseries of M [...] Fol. 55
- The fift: The Praise of Women Fol.
- The farewell: A mene peece of Phisicke.
What faults are escaped in the Printing, finde by discrecion, and excuse the Author, by other worke that lette him from attendance to the Presse.