CHAPTER 1. Desire goeth on Pilgrimage.

THere liued sometimes in a vast and solitarie desert, a holy & Religious Father, whose chie­fest care, and daylie exercise, was with fasting, watching, and praying, continually to serue God. This holy Father was moued on a time with a zealous and hartie desire, to finde out the true & ready way, (if possibly he cold,) to true wisdome, and the loue of God. There­fore he resolued with himselfe to trauaile ouer the whole world, if happely he could finde a Master able to instruct and direct him herein. With this resolution he departed from his Cell, [Page 4]and then first beganne his determined journey. Now after this holy Father, (whome we will call, Desiderius or Desire) had measured the de­sert, with a long and wearisome trauaile he first encountred a reuerende old sheepheard: who fedde his flocke, in a pleasant greene meddow, beautified with variety of sweet smelling flow­ers: with the sight of whome, being greatly comforted: hauing long trauailed, & yet mette with no man, he saluted him in manner follow­ing. My louing Brother, now thanked be God who hath directed me to meete you here. To whome the sheepheard returned answere: I likewise am gladde of this our meeting: tel me, what seeke you in this solitary desert? I seeke quoth Desire a certayne Knight, who as I vn­derstand is trauailed this way.

CHAPTER. 2. He instructeth Prelates and spiri­tuall Pastors.

THis Pilgrim, & this Pastor, thus mette to­gither, Desire attentiuely noted with ad­miration, the great care, and diligence, which this good sheepheard vsed, towards the flocke committed to his charge, first, he had in his hand a rodde, or wande, on his right side, there hong a scrippe, or bagge: on his feete, he weare wodden pattens, his garment was a long coate; on his lefte side, at his girdle, there hong a little [Page 5]horne, and on his right side, an other some­what greater, two great dogges followed him on each side, and fast by, was his homely cot­tage, fensed & compassed about with bushes, and thornes. The sheepheard, perseauing how attentiuely Desire beheld and noted him, asked of him, the cause thereof: and if he neuer had seene a sheepheard before? DE. Truely Bro­ther, I haue oft seene manie, but neuer one so well prouided as your selfe, wherefore pardon me: and if it be nto troublesome to you, an­sweare me to that I shall aske of you. SH. You shall not be offensiue to me, if your de­mandes, be but such as I may answere. DE. Wherefore doe you carrie this staffe in your hande? SH. I meruaile not a little, why you aske me that, for considering, your selfe are a Sheepheard, as I am, howe can you be igno­rant of the vse of it? I vse this staffe, both for my ayde, and stay, that going vp and downe, with my sheepe, I stumble not and fall: and also, therewith I order and rule my flocke, directing them therewith, to keepe their right way, and prohibiting them, to wan­der and stray, but to keepe togither, not allowing each one to goe seuerall wayes: for if anie one chance to seuer from my flocke, or to follow after anie other, then my selfe, with this staffe, enforce him & driue him, vntill [Page 6]he vnite himselfe againe to his fellowes. DE. What doe you carry in this Scrippe that you weare? SH. Foure thinges: A tinder boxe to strike fire, wherewith in colde winter I may warme my selfe, and dresse such meate as ser­ueth my fellowes, and me, also bread, onyons, a box of oyntment, and salt, whereof especial­ly, I oft giue my shepe. DE. Why doe you weare wodden pattens on your feete. SH. To keepe me warme in Winter, when it is Frost, and Snow: for if I should weare more costly, or curious, they would soone be worne out with much going about. DE. What signifieth this long garment that you weare? SH. This is my habit, without which, no man would know me to be a sheephearde. DE. Whereof is this garment made? SH. of sheepe skinnes. DE. Might it not bee made of Wolues or other beasts skinnes? No, for my sheepe would easi­lie finde that by the smell, and so woulde pre­sently fly away from me: but seeing me cladde in their owne skinnes; they loue and followe me continually. DE. What haue you in the horne that hangeth on your left side? SH. An oyntment, wherewith I dresse my sheepe that be infected with the scabbe. DE. What in the bigger, that hangeth on the right side? SH. A marking stone, whereby I know them from other mens sheepe. DE. For what vse [Page 7]doe you keepe these dogges? SH. They barke in the night, and keep away the wolues, where­by, both my sheepe be in more safety, and I my selfe take my rest more quietly. DE. Why are you so carefull ouer this your charge? SH. Because I haue a kinde and bountifull Master, who hath promised me a great rewarde, al­though I doe it not in regarde of rewarde, but rather for the loue I beare to him.

CHAPTER. 3. Of the same Argument.

DESIRE now grewe into great admira­tion with him selfe, and was greatly plea­sed, hearing that this sheepheard did vndertake this charge for loue, and said to him. My bro­ther, considering you cōuerse for the most part in these pleasant fieldes, can you certifie me of a certayne Knight which wandereth solitarily, vp and downe alone? by reason that being expelled his possession by his owne subjectes, he is constrayned to seeke some place of abode where he may rest and settle him selfe. SH. What is the name of this Knight, you enquire after? DE. He is called, the Loue of God. SH. I knowe right well the place of his abode. And if thou hadst experience to keepe my flocke as I haue, and werte euery way sufficient for such a charge, I would my selfe bring thee to him, that thou mightest not as heretofore wan­der [Page 8]vp and downe to seeke him, hee loueth sheepheardes, and willingly conuerseth with them. And although he be a noble, and renow­med knight, yet is he notwithstāding the soune of a sheepheard. But perceauing thee, to be a man of a weake, and tender constitution, and vnfitte of thy selfe, to vndertake the charge of my flocke, not able to follow them, though this solitarie desert, I thinke it meete, thou shouldest assay an other journey. DE. What other journey doe you aduise me to take? SH. First must you passe through this solitarie de­sert, and not farre hence, shall you finde a faire and stately Monasterie: this Monasterie is in­habited only with Virgins, of whome you shal learne the abode of this Knight: for such is the curtesie, affabilitie, and honest carriage of him, that willingly, he conuerseth with all, that seeke after him. This descourse of the sheepheard, pleased Desire not a little, and the rather, being put in hope, by him to finde out the Loue of God. Who said to him, teach me, I pray you the ready way that I must take: least that per­haps through ignorance, I happe to goe awry. SH. I may not my selfe forsake my flocke, yet will I appoint thee a conuenient companion in this thy journey, who accompaning thee, that by the assistance of God, thou shalt not easely goe out of thy way: take here with thee this my [Page 9]dogge. DE. What is his name? SH. Good will. DE. Farewell my Brother. SH. And you also, to whome I wish a prosperous jour­ney.

CHAPTER. 4. Of the house of Humilitie.

HEre Desire leauing the Sheepheard, vn­dertoke his journey, accōpanied with his dogge; running by his side: which was no little comfort to him on the way, and now hauing trauailed, many dayes, and nights, he entred on a Sonday, into a most pleasant greene medow, seated in a dry, and rocky soyle, whereat, De­sire meruailed not a little, to see so pleasant, and so greene a meddow, lying in so stony, and so barraine a place, ouergrowne aboute, with bushes, and thornes. And entring farther in, he found there builte, a stately, faire Monaste­rie: the sight whereof, pleased him much. But comming neare, he found the gates shut, and a certayne Virgin standing without, modest as to him seemed, both in her attire, and behauiour: who at the sight of Desires dogge, beganne to be afrayd. Whome Desire comforted, and hidde not to feare, assuring her, his dogge would not hurte her. And meruailing, to see her stand thus alone without, he deman­ded of her, why shee stoode there, who an­sweared him, that shee expected the opening [Page 10]of the gates to goe in. Then demanding farther her name of her, she answered, saying; I am cal-called Vaine-glorie. Now Desire hauing long expected the opening of the gates, and per­ceuing his attendance to be all in vaine, be­ganne to call, and knocke at the gate with a hammer, hanging thereat, called Longanimitie, & presently came forth can auncient reuerende man, who opened the gate. This man was called the Feare of God, who was both porter and keeper of all this Monasterie, whome Desire seing, and finding a graue and wise reue­rende man, was greatly cheared in beholding him, and after due reuerence done to him, spake to him in manner following. Good Sir (quoth he,) my comming hither, is to seeke out a Knight, called the Loue of God. Who as I am tolde, is trauailed through this desert, and hath his abode now in this Monastery, wherefore I humbly desire of you, to know if he be here within or no. At this demand of his, the por­ter rejoyced, for he loued the Loue of God euen as his owne Brother, & asked of him, why h sought ofter this Knight. DE. I seeke him not only because I am greatly delighted with him, but also because it is very behouefull for me to finde him; FEARE OF GOD. What? haue you any thing so secret that you dare not re­veale it? DE. Truely Sir. only I desire his [Page 11]company and conuersation, and wish I were his seruant to attend on him, coueting nothing more than such a Master and instructer, for in all this country, I cannot finde a Master an­swerable to my minde, although many haue bin willing to entertayne me. But I haue learned from many, that the Loue of god, is a most noble gentle, and bountifull Master: who in that he is rich, often bestoweth great preferments on his seruāts. FEARE OF GOD. True it is, he passed, his way accōpanied but with fewe, who at this present is not within, but haue patience a while, & I will call a Virgin to you, who is able to direct you, where you shall finde him out.

CHAPTER. 5. How Vaine-glory watcheth at the gate.

MEane time, now Desire joyfully expected the comming of the Porter, and Virgin he spake of, & not weighting long, there came to him a modest and seemely Virgin, who salu­ting him curteously, was in like manner resalu­ted againe, of whome Desire craued her name, who answered, my name is called Nihili-pensio, because I entermedle not in superfluous & vn­necessary thinges, and demanding farther the name of the Monasterie, shee told him it was the house of Humilitie, because within, there dwelt many virgins, who liued vnder the obe­dience and rule of humilitie, he againe asked: [Page 12]what maide is that which standeth without the gate, her name quoth she, is called Vaine-glory: who sitteth continually at this gate vntill it be opened, and then, if the Porter be negligent, & looke not strictly to his office, (but leaue open the gates) shee presently entreth. Why do you not admit her in said Desire, considering both in speech, habit, & gesture, she seemeth modest, vertuous, & honest. You know not (quoth the Virgin) her conditions, I perceaue: For I assure you, shee is a most dangerous beaste, for how much the more modest, & religious she semeth by her externall carriage, so much I holde her, to be more dangerous. What, saith Desire, doth she at any time hurt you? yea truly said the Virgin, so farre as lieth in her power: her father is a wicked man, called Selfe Loue, her mother as ill, called Selfe Estimation, neither haue we three greater enemies in all the world, and farther, they are enemies to the Loue of God, a Knight who is Master of this Monastery, in which we liue. And that you may farther know, what hurt Vaine-glory doeth vs: I say, so soone as shee entereth in, shee is so gluttenous, and ra­uening, that first shee goeth into our Orchards, & there deuoureth, and eateth vp al our fruite, which is both faire & good, which is the fruite, wee haue to liue with, neyther haue we more than one tree of it, which carrieth so litle, that [Page 13]hardly are we susteyned therewith, which be­ing taken away from vs, by Vaine-glory, we remaine so poore, that nothing is left vs. And yet worse than this, after shee is once come in, shee is so crafty, and deceitfull, that we can­not expell her, labour we neuer so much, vn­till wee call the assistance of our Mother, at whose only sight, shee runneth away: where­fore wee thinke it good, not to admitte her at all, which to preuent, wee purposely keepe this Porter continually at our gate, who is a seuere and sterne man, and still shutteth the gate, that shee cannot enter: whome wee in­treate to be circumspect, that when hee ad­mitteth any, hee through negligence, leaue not open the gate. Desire stoode amased, at the discourse of this Virgin, and replied, con­sidering shee is so dangerous an enemy to you, you cannot be too carefull, to keepe her out of your house.

CHAPTER. 6. By what meanes, we may at­tame to Humilitie.

DEsire continuing his speech with this Virgin, asked her who brought her into that goodly, and Religious Monastery, a­dorned, and shining, with so rare vertues, Two Virgins (quoth shee) guided me hither, [Page 14]whereof the one is called Contempt of the world, a Virgin endued with singuler vertues the o­ther called Contempt of her selfe, exceeding the first by many degrees. These two Virgins lea­ding me in, entreated our Mother and Mistris to receaue me, which notwithstanding she had not done, but for the loue of a certayne Knight, which mette vs in our journey, & came in here with vs, who bestowed on me this habite I weare, and admitted me into the society of his Virgins, and had it not beene graunted vs by speciall grace, that, that Knight had entred in hither with vs, I had neuer beene receaued, but had lost my labour. DE. What is the name of the Knight you speake of? VIRGIN: The Loue of God. It pleased desire much, that the Loue of God was of that account, that so many, and so great thinges where done: only for his sake, and now he beganne more earnestly to Desire his presence, and sayde. DE. Deare sister, tell me what were the parents of these two Vir­gins, which brought you hither, for it auaileth much to the honesty and reputation of a man, to be borne of honest and vertuous parents, for commonly the tree taketh the vertue from the roote. VIR. I knowe right well their parents names, their father is one of chiefest authoritie in our Princes palace, who is called, To knowe, also I knowe as well their grand-father, whose [Page 15]name is To Consider, who is a wise and discreete man, and one that dischargeth his office dulie: he married a wife called Wisedome. DE. Had the Knight when hee mette you no man in his company? VIR. Yes, he had a boy with him whom he loueth dearely, this boy is, called the Loue of our neighbour. DE. Can you direct me whither this Knight is gone? VIR. I coulde direct you, but let vs goe in, and I will bring you to those that can instruct you certainly: but tell me I pray you, why doe you carry this great dogge with you? DE. He was giuen vnto me by an other, for I my selfe had first but a little whelpe, which I bredde vp in my cha­ber, vntill I mette a certayne sheepheard that be­stowed, his bigger dogge on me, to accompany me through this vast and solitarie desert, in which (as I was told) liued many hurtful serpēts, & dangerous wild beasts, from which I might bee defended by the assistance of this dogge. VIRG. What is the dogges name? DE. Good will. VIRG. The dogge surely is a ve­ry good dogge, if you knowe howe to keepe him: and assure your selfe, so long as you haue him, he will suffer no ill to befall vnto you, nei­ther neede you to feare, to stray out of your way. DE. But tell me I pray you? of whome may I enquire, where I may finde this Knight that I seeke after? VIR. Truely Brother, he [Page 16]dwelleth farre hence, & thou hast a long jour­ney to goe through this desert, before thou canst come to the place of his abode: thou must trauaile at the leaste, seauen dayes journey, for there be seauen Monasteries, seated in this de­sert, neither is there any other way to passe, but this: yet for the loue of the Loue of God, con­sidering, I see thee so desirous of him, I will di­rect thee a short way to goe, by the which thou shalt sooner come where he is, wherefore, it is requisite that thou follow my aduise. Desire hearing what see said, rejoyced greatly, but especially, because shee saide shee would doe it for the Loue of God, and saide to her. DE. I will doe, what ere you bid me, so I may finde the Loue of God. VIR. Here, within this de­sert, there are eight Monasteries, whereof, this which is the house of Humility, is the first, the second, is of Iustice, the third, is of Wisedome, the fourth, of Fortitude, the fift, of Temperāce, the sixt, of Faith, the seauenth, of Hope, the eight, of Charity: in this last of Charity, remaineth the Loue of God, and there dischargeth the office of a porter. This whole journey, thou must vn­dertake, if thou wilt be sure to go the right way, but as I saide, I will teach thee a shorterway, by which, thou mayest sooner come to him: yet notwithstanding, it is of necessity, that thou abide a time here in this Monastery, that thou [Page 17]maist learne, marke, and remember, all our or­ders, and be acquainted with our Mistris, & all herd daughters, and learned, and remember their names behuiours, & lius. Moreouer, thou must diligently note, al things in this Monaste­ry, & carry to the Loue of God, Certaine rules of ours, for the great loue he beareth to this our Monastery before others, then will he without delay, most willingly receaue thee, the rather, if thou bring letters of commendation from our Mistris. DE. What is the reason, the Loue of God should so preferre you; considering (as me seemeth) you are the poorest, meanest, & few­est in number. VIR. This was the first Mo­nastery that was founded in this Desert, and all the other are depēding on this, besides our chie fest founder, & gouernor, the builder, & work­man of this Monasterie, maketh his abode and dwelling amongst vs: And although he walke vp & downe this Desert, to visit & keep in or­der the other Monasteries, yet will he not per­mit himself to be otherwaies called, then a child of this Monastery, & first of al, we gaue him an habit. desire was so much delighted with the discourse of this virgin; that he felte his hart infla­med with loue, for he noted her words well, & saide, he desired nothing more, than to spend long time in this place, & with great diligence to note & marke their orders. Then the virgin [Page 18]taking him by the hand said, let vs now goe in.

CHAPER. 7. The purpose, or intent of Humility, and her talke with Desire.

THe building of this house much pleased Desire, and he admired the beauty thereof, considering it was playne, without any coūter­fet: for neither was it builte high, not yet set forth, with any imagery or painting; but lowe, & conuenient, not founded vpon sand, but on a firme rocke. After Desire had a time attēded his deuotions in the Oratory, the Virgin brought him to the chamber of their Mistris, or mother, who receaued him curteously, seeing him ver­tuous, & deuoted to Gods seruice, and making him sit, said vnto him, what cause my Son hath brought thee, amongst vs, considering we are so poore, so meane, & such abjects? DE. Lady mother, I seeke after a knight, called the Loue of God. And as I am instructed, I canot finde him, except I make my abode here some time with you: wherfore (if it be not troublesome to you,) I desire to liue vnder your obedience, & gouer­ment. HVM. Your desire and purpose plea­seth me well, but first consider, and weigh with your selfe, what it is that you goe about to vn­dertake, least hauing once entred, you repent you of your purpose. DE. I beseech God assist me with his grace & helpe, that I may perseuer [Page 19]in vertue, and all goodnes. HVM. I wish the same, & pray to God, to accomplish this good worke, which he hath begonne in thee. But far­ther, it is requisite, that thou thy selfe endeuour al that in thee lyeth, that God may prosper this thy good purpose. DE. What think you need­ful for me to do? HVM. My Sonne, I will tell thee. If thy desire be to remayne here amongst vs, and not to be expelled from hence by my Virgins; thou must take my yongest daughter, which brought thee in hither, who is called Nihili-pensio, that is, contempt of al vnnecessary cares: & her thou must obey as thy gouernesse or Mistris, to whome, purposly we haue com­mitted the charge, to entertayne strangers, and be the directix of nouices, & whosoeuer refuse to be obediēt to her, neuer perseuer in that they vndertake. DE. Most willingly I admit her, and receaue her my gouernesse; and desire to know of you Lady mother, your name, stocke, conditions, and degree, & how, you come to be mother ouer these Virgins? For as it is tould me, I must knowe, and learne, the properties, con­ditions, & state, of all these Virgins vnder your gouerment to the intent, that the better I know them, the more I may loue them; & that when I shall depart from hēce, I may the better be able to answere, & direct those that shal aske, or seek to learne any thing of me. HVM. My name is [Page 20] Humility, my Father, Contempte of him selfe, Knowledge of himselfe, my Grandfather, and his wife is called Knowledge of God. My fore na­med Grandfather, commeth from a citty, cal­led To marke, and consider what I am, what I haue beene, what I shall be. My Grandmother from a towne, called Consideration of the Loue of God. There are but two wayes, to goe to the country of my Grandfather, & only two gates, whereby to enter in, the first is, Man himselfe, the other All creatures, and men say, no man can enter into either of these gates, but by fly­ing: and that our Lord God himselfe builded this citty, with his owne hands, considering, that none but he, could finishe so commodious, so beautifull, & so firme a building. DE. Would our Lord God, whose majesty, and excellency is so great, put himselfe to the building, of such stony, and clay workes? HVM. Yea truely, for he is an excellent workeman, and both a stilfull mason, and carpenter, and taketh great delight in making earthen works, & buildings. DE. What is the cause that he doth this, con­sidering that he hath need of nothing? HVM. Nothing, but his owne goodnes, doth con­strayne, or moue him to do this: whence it pro­ceedeth, that he neuer ceaseth to benefit others, neither seeketh he, or studieth with all thinges that he maketh, and goeth about, anie other [Page 21]thing, but the benefit, felicity, and saluation, of all men, the honor and prayse, to himselfe alone reserued. And for this cause, doth he make of so base, and vile a matter, so goodly, and beau­full workes, as he doeth, that the worthines of the worke, being compared with the basenes of the matter, all men might admire him, prayse him, and loue him. DE. I meruail that so excellēt a Lord as he is, would seeke for prayse, considering thereby he may be touched with vaine-glory? HVM. There is nothing lesse to be feared, than that in him, he being so per­fit, that no greater perfection can be added to him, and all honor and glory, that can be yeel­ded to him, cannot be said vaine, being only proper to him; And how great honor soeuer we can giue to him, yet in regarde of that which beseemeth him, & is due to him; we can neuer honor him, answerable to his dignitie. And for that cause will he be exalted, and praysed, not that he desireth glory, but because he is most iust, and will, that euery one, haue that which is due to him: then seing all prayse, honor, and glory is due to him alone, being only good, his will is, that all prayse, honor and glory, be yeel­ded only to him. But if anie other shall seeke or desire after glory, they may iustly be called vaineglorious, because they take it from him, to whome it only appertayneth, and he may [Page 22]truly be called a theefe, that taketh to himselfe, an other mans goodes, against the will of the true owner.

CHAPTER. 8. Humility continueth her speech.

DESIRE. Now Lady Mother, that you haue tolde me your parentage, & stocke, I desire to knowe, how you came to be chiefe Gouernesse of this house: for in my opinion, it is a great honour and dignity, and I my selfe, in time may come to be a gouernour: for there is greate difference, betweene com­manding, and obeyinge, Humility hearing what he saide, beganne to weepe, of whome, Desire demaunded the cause of her weepinge. HVM. My Sonne, I cannot conteyne my teares, to see, that outwardly thou seemest clad with the habit of humilitie, and yet inwardly thou appearest naked, & bare, & that in shew, thou semest religious and virtuous; but in hart, and minde, voyde of virtue, and deuotion. In vaine haue we vsed our passed discourse, seing these thoughtes, and desires of thine, are so cleane repugnant from the wil of my father, & most dearly beloued Lord Iesus, who neither in word, nor deed, euer sought, or desired rule or gouernment, & came not into this world, to be serued, but to serue. From which path who soeuer turneth, and strayeth: walketh the way [Page 23]of damnation, not saluation. But Oh vnhappy & miserable creaturs that we are, to whom it is alotted, to rule and gouerne others: considering how hard a taske we take in hand, if we wil but commaund our selues as we ought. Such ho­nor is in deede but misery, and full of cares, la­bors, wearines, afflictions, sorowes, dangers, & most horrible feares and which if it be not well ordered & gouerned, is in the end accompany­ed with ignominy and shame. Oh ouer heauie burthen of rule & cōmandement: in which no­thing is found, put labor, and trouble, wherein hatred, repining, & il wil is receiued from those that should acknowledg, and yeeld obedience and thanks. If thou remainest any time here a­mongst vs, thou shalt finde by experience my sayings true. Now, to answere thy demaund, how I came to be gouernesse: I will, for the Loue of God acquaynte thee with the meane. When first, I entered into this house: I purpo­sed and so perswaded my selfe, that I was but a labouring beaste, and the seruant of the other Virgins: and this determination of mine, I so resolued to performe, and imprinted it, deeply in my minde, and hart, continuallie calling it freshly to my minde, and prayinge to God, to make mee still desire it, and that it woulde please him to make mee worthie to bee his Spouse, and so through his appoynte-ment [Page 24]I came to be gouernesse, although of my selfe, I neither would, or desired it. Desire hearing Humilities discourse, thought her a Virgin, of very rare vertue, in that for the Loue of God, shee had so dejected, and debased her selfe; and perceauing her to be yet a Virgin, vnder­stood the Matrimony that shee spake of, to be spirituall, and not carnall, and said. DE. Then I perceaue, who so will be a Superiour, & ruler, must according as you haue done, first humble and debase himselfe. HVM. It is true my Son as by experience thou mayest finde it. DE. And how may I try it? HV. By seeing those that humble themselues to be exalted: yet, to take heede, that thou humble not thy selfe to that end, that thereby thou desire to be exalted, for so, thou shalt sinne in pride: And pride, & humility are open enemies, and euer oppose themselues, one against the other. For what so euer thou doest, if thou truely humble thy selfe, thou canst not, in the same action, exalte thy selfe. But if thou humble thy selfe, because thou wouldest be exalted, thy shewe, is humble, but thy acte, is proud. And because, the action is to be taken, according to the intent of the mind, such humility is called pride. By which reason, humilitie, may diuersly be termed pride. For if wee haue respect to the action of such a man outwardly, he carrieth a shew of humility, but [Page 25]looking to the end of his humble action, wee shall finde it, wholy to proceed from pride. And to speake properly, humility it selfe, con­tendeth not with pride, but the spirit of humi­lity, and it is impossible, to haue these two a­gree in one: for humility is but an act, but the spirit of humility, conteyneth both the act, and the cause, and intention, of humbling, and de­jecting our selues.

CHAPTER. 9. Humility continueth her discourse, and teacheth how to striue against vice.

NOw my forenamed husbād, (I meane my purpose I vndertooke to humble my self, like a labouring beaste, and the seruant of all men,) assisted me faithfully, in a certayne con­flict I had with an other Lady, and her mai­dens, of the house of Pride, whose gouernesse was called Pride of life: which daily endeuou­reth to scrach out mine eyes, and still brauleth with me: An she bringeth with her, both the vnder gouernesse of her house, called Concupis­cence of the flesh; and her steward, Concupis­cence of the eyes. To these three associates, her selfe a lewde maide, both mother, and nurse of them, called Negligence, who beinge often weake, and feeble, is easily ouercome: but sometime she so filleth her selfe, with eating, & drinking, that shee becommeth fatte & strong, [Page 26]and then is shee very dangerous. Shee hath at­tending on her, a certayne maide, dull, foolish, and will brought vp, called Malice: with whome come hither, three other Maides, Anger, Sloath, & Enuy. And vnto the three last, associate them selues, two other, that is, Naughty Suspition, and Rash Iudgement. All these, are at mortall enmity with me, and still oppose them selues against me, with whome I am daily, to contende, and fight. Therefore, so oft as they enter in here, I with the assistance of my husband, straite driue them out, and force them to flie. And then haue we can other feare, least the Maide which cōtinually watcheth at the gates, I meane Vaine-glory, presently steppe in. For if once, we giu her opportunity to enter, she robbeth vs of the fruite, and benefit which we got, by expelling our other forenamed enemyes: so that then we are barraine of all goodnes, and loose the labour we tooke in our former con­flicte. DE. How then chanceth it, that when these other your enemies enter in here, she stan­ding at the gates, doth not also enter. HVM. This is the reason, those other Maydens, vse the benefit of winges, & enter not by the gate, but flie ouer the walles, & often they hide them selues, so secretly in some corner of the house, that when we least suspect them, they walke & wander vp and downe amongst vs, wherefore [Page 27]we are of necessity, to keepe a carefull watch, least suddainly they come vpon vs, and spoile vs vnlooked for. DE. Let vs discourse, yet longer of this matter, and tel me why? You are at such debate, & contention with them, consi­dering how il a thing it is, to giue such example to worldly mē, when they shal see such discord, & dissention amongst Religious persons; who they knowe, should be gentle, pittiful, & milde, for the Loue of God to all men? HVM. The cause of our strife, and dissension with them, is al only for that cause, we expel them our house, because they are open and professed enemies, to the Loue of God, who is our chiefe Lord & Master, and whosoeuer is an enemy to the Loue of God, we wil haue neither friendshippe, or familiarity by any meanes with him.

CHAPTER. 10. Of Concupiscence of the flesh.

DESIRE was greatly pleased to heare, how great confidence Humility had, in the Loue of God, and desired of her, to instruct him, by what meanes and helpes they ouercame, and expelled: those dangerous Maydens, their professed enemies. HVM. I would willingly doe it, but because I am not yet fully acquainted with thy nature, life, con­ditions and minde, but only goe vpon con­jectures and imaginations; I rest yet doubtfull, [Page 28]whither I may instruct thee herein or no. For considering the contrariety, and difference of mens natures, the sweetest hony, tasteth not sweet to all men. DE. What soeuer I seeme in shewe to your iudgement: or what opinion soeuer you haue of me: yet I wholy submit my selfe to your will, and yeelde me to be or­dered by your direction, only desiring to be instructed by you, what meanes to vse, to finde the Loue of God. HVM. Vpon that condi­tion I will satisfie your desire, and will impart and make knowen to you my exercises, and course of life. First that holy purpose, and de­termination of myne, which I spake of before, hath made me Mistris of the whole world, so long as I shall contemne, and despise it. And Mistris ouer my owne body by fasting, and discipline, and by my voluntary and willing humility? I say, not only Mistris and com­mandresse ouer my ghostly enemy, but ouer all the world and yet farther which is greatest Mistris and commandresse ouer my selfe, for when the world seeth me to labour, and endeuour, with all my diligence to please the Loue of God, it repugneth me and all my fa­mily, yet I still reteyne, peace and tranquillity with my forenamed husband. Now Desire, greatly admired the vertue and force of him, whome Humility so often had named her hus­band, [Page 29]and said. DE. I beseech you Lady Mo­ther, instruct mee by similitudes that I may more playnely conceaue your meaning. For I am but of dull and slowe concepte, and by examples I shall better conceaue your sayings. This request of Desire pleased Humility well, finding that by acknowledging this owne dul­nesse, he was now become both modest and humble, wherevpon she saide to him. HVM. So soone as I see, any of my before named enemies enter in hither, I thus behaue my selfe, if it be the first which is Concupiscence of the flesh. I foreknowe already her conditions, and behauiours, which are to be exceedingly giuen to gluttony, and to pamper her body by excesse of eating & drinking. Therefore first I take from her all kinde of delicate diet, nei­ther do I allowe her, her fill of ordinary meate and drinke; And because I am not strong e­nough of my selfe, to tame and master her, in regarde that my domesticall seruants assist her, I vse others helpe, and place on my right hand. Gods grace, which may strengthen and defende me from this dangerous enemy. I also craue the ayde and assistance of my husband, and then say to her. Sister, I haue my selfe despised my flesh, and make no better accompte of my selfe than of a labouring beast, and beasts seeke not after dairity and decliate fare, but only that, as [Page 30]may be sufficient to sustayne nature, and are content with that, which is allowed them, by the discretion of their Master. And if the Ma­ster finde him to be wanton and deuouring, he musleth him, that he neuer eateth, but when & what in his discretion he shall like of. And so Sister, in this respect I am content to be vsed and ruled like a beast, besides the Loue of God, hath giuen me a bridell, which is made of So­briety, that I cannot eate but at wonted times, and that I desire not, or looke to haue any o­ther meate, or more daintely dressed then such as ordinariley is set before me, and therewith I satisfie and content my selfe. Farther the Loue of God hath enjoyned me to this also, if I will serue and please him as I ought, to eate tempe­rately, and moderately, and only for necessary sustenance, of that, what soeuer it be that is set before me: & that for good manners I alwayes leaue some what in the dish, thereby to shewe that more is allowed me, then I can well eate. For when all is eaten that is sett before vs, it is as much as if you shoud say, my allowance is not sufficient for mee, neither am I content therewith, therefore I desire to haue more set on the table. And yet farther this rule is giuen mee to obserue for the Loue of God. That I would and should desire lesse to bee allowed mee, and the same worse dressed, then the [Page 31]allowance of my Sisters: and alwaies to wish something to be wanting about me, & therein to rejoyce for the Loue of God. By these & like meanes, this malepert wanton maide is ouer­come, and driuen away from olesting me. But when againe shee shall prouoke and sturre me, to wanton pleasure, not only by my owne flesh, but also by others. I then fly from her, as fast as I can secluding my selfe frō al such com­pany, as may allure or entice me to pleasure or concupiscence. And against this assault, I find that to seclude my selfe from cōpany, is a pre­sent remedy and most soueraigne preseruatiue. Neither, doth this enemy assault me only in my body, but in my soule also, by suggesting many ill thoughts. Against which also I vse, the remedy of flight and hide my selfe, either in some corner of a rocke, or els in some vn­frequented and solitary place, and there settle all my thoughts and cogitations, vpon my most sweete Sauiour IESVS, calling to minde his most holy life, his passion, torments, and most bitter death. Also meditating vpon the cruell torments of Hell, the seuere and iust Iudgement of Almighty GOD. My owne departure from this miserable world, and that of necessity I must appeere before the Iudge­ment seate of God: there to giue accompt of al my thoughts, wordes, and deeds. By these and [Page 32]like means, I ouercome, and put to flight, this forenamed maiden, who is the Lieuetenant of the castle of Pride.

CHPATER 11. Of the concupiscence of the eyes, and pride of life.

YEt farther, to ouercome and cleane subdue this enemy, it is also requisite to vanquish and conquer her companion, I meane Cocupis­cence of the eyes, the steward or gouernour of the house of Pride: who alwaies giueth winges to Concupiscence of the flesh. For continually shee ministreth occasion to her companion, who not-withstanding, I ouercome with my holy purpose. For so soone as shee commeth, I say thus to her. Sister, I am no better then a labou­ring beaste, who neuer desireth superfluities, or more then is allowed him, but alwaies is contented with so much as is necessary, neither expecteth curiosity in that which is to be had of necessity, litle regarding whether his saddell and bridle be guilded or imbrodered, or whe­ther the stable be curiosly adorned, but con­tent if conueniently he may stand & lie. Con­sidering then, that for the Loue of God, I ac­count my selfe no better then a beaste: I will also vse my body as if it were a beast. And as the breaker, and rider, of a stiffe necked horse, with the raines of a bridle, enforceth him to stoppe & turne: so the Loue of God, hath brid­deled [Page 33]and tide me, with the bridell and chayne of Schamefastnes and Bashfulnes: that I shall not curiuously see, & couet the vanities of the world. For I ought not behold: that I ought not de­sire. And the Loue of God hath taught me to say, when I see a thing beautiful, pleasing rare, singuler, or curious, I neuer will settle my loue on thee, but refuse thee, and hold thee but as a meere vanity, therefore remebring the wor­thines of my creation, I will not bestowe my loue or fix, my affection, on so vile, so base, & so transitory a thing: but on that which in it selfe is the only treasure, and goodnes, and a beauty which neither age or sickenes can ble­mish, I meane on my sweete Sauiour and Re­deemer IESVS; who demandeth of me my loue and affection, and may iustly chalenge the same as his owne. By these and like meanes this other Maide is ouercome. Now these two be­ing vanquished in manner as I haue told you, there yet remayneth the last which is Mistris of these, one more terrible, crafty and more suttle than the other, euer lying in wayte to hinder good actions, her name is called Pride of Life, who when soeuer shee commeth in hither a­mongst vs, is alwayes attended with one or o­ther hand-maide, and still bringeth with her ei­ther Good or euell estimation. But straight I say to her, a beast is no better to be accompted of [Page 34]than a beast neither is to be thought, worthy of honour, or estimation, but rather ignominy, and base contempt. Then sometime she commeth complayning to me, and saith: see how my su­periours behaue themselues towardes me, and vse me, both in age, witte, and judgment: I am not their inferiors, yet they vse such and such a one, with better respect then me. But pre­sently I finde out her craft and subtelty, and preuenting her, reply: A beast is not to be v­sed but basely, and according to his Masters discretion, to be whipped and beaten. For If at any time his Master shall vse him but gent­ly, and play with him; he presently will kicke, and forgette the duety due to him. Therefore a wise Master, and men of good gouernment, although they loue their beastes neuer so well: yet will neuer vse extroardinary, and vndue familiarity to them: but alwayes carry them­selues with a kinde of seuere grauity; consi­dering such familiarit6y is neuer attributed to humility, curtesie, loue, or affability, but ra­ther to simplicity, and meere fondnesse. For such familiarity, doth rather hurt, then bene­fitte a beast. But a discreete, and wise Master, will rather endeuour with all possible dili­gence, that his beast, or horse, keepe his right way in their journey, and carry carefully, the burthen laide on their backes, then that the [Page 35]world shoulde thinke him fonde of them, or expect to be held a kinde, and louing Ma­ster, and one that should seeke to be praysed of them. For by these meanes it might hap­pen, as oft we see it, that either the Master to­wardes the beast, or the beast forgette himselfe towardes the Master, when the Master vseth not such reason, moderation, and discretion, as he ought: and that indiscretion may giue occa­sion to the beast, to stray out of their boundes, farther then is allowed, and so by little and lit­tle, vsing an ill custome, the Master shall not dare to direct, or gouerne according to the su­periority he hath ouer his beast; but if hee chaunce for their negligence to strike or beate them, they presently will resist, and kicke a­gaine at him. And then if the beast happen ei­ther to cast off his burthen, or else to carry it contrary to his Masters minde, he must needes winke at it, and suffer him to goe, where, and as hee will himselfe, and so, he to be obedi­ent to the beast, not the beast to him. Euen so Sister, were it like to prooue vvith mee, if I should yeelde to my owne sensuall affections, and be carried away with worldlie pleasures, and vanities. But hee that loueth me, and hath care ouer me, doth with his discretion correct me, and bridle my vvill; that I fall not to open shame, and so bee vndone, but [Page 36]for the loue he carrieth to my soule, he doth chastice & discipline my body at his discretion. Neither doe I my selfe wish to be vsed better then a beast. At some other time the same Pride of life, cōmeth to me vnder the colour of Enuy, and complaineth thus. See how such and such an office is giuen to this, and that body: But no reckening or accompt is made of me. One is made gouernesse, and an other vndergouer­nesse, the third the stewarde, and an other secre­tary; but my selfe, which am inferiour to none of them in yeares, or desert, am neglected and nothing regarded at all. No place of credit is committed to me, wherein I might rule or com­mand ouer others: but alwayes I am dejected like a base kitchen Wench: Yea, I am made the vnderling of the meanest mayde in the house. And now I finde it true that they of best desert; are commonly and for the most part least con­sidered. For which cause hence forth, I will de­serue lesse: for I see, they that counterfette to be lambes are deuored of Wolues. Such and like complaints, doth shee oft make to me, as though I knew not the grounde from whence it came. To whome I answere; Sister, I haue not giuen ouer and forsaken the world, and be­taken my selfe to this solitary, and sequestred life; thereby to rule others, and to moderate their causes. For since my first entrace heather, [Page 37]I haue vowed obedience: and therefore will performe that which I came hither to doe, and for which I was called, and which I vndertoke to accomplish at my entrance. For God will neuer demande or aske accompte of me, how much I haue commanded and ruled others, or with how much honor, or how great offices I haue bin exalted in the world: but how hum­bly, and dutifully, I haue obeyed his comman­dements, and how willingly I haue humbled my selfe to my superiours, and subjected & de­based my owne wilful & stubborne rude mind. Therefore Sister, I looke only to discharge and performe my owne office, in that place and de­gree, to which I am called by God, and suffer others to looke likewayes to that charge of theirs, to which by Gods prouidence they are as my selfe called. Meane time this one thing I knowe for certayne, that I liue in the state of assured saluation. (That is vnder true obediēce, humility, and subjection;) from which no man can fall, except he first clyme higher. And so hereof I haue no just cause to complayne, but rather to rejoyce, prayse, & yeelde daily thanks to Almighty God in that he hath debarred, and as it weare taken from me, the meanes and oc­casion of falling into the great perils and dan­gers; into which high offices and places of dig­nity and preferment: are wonte to drawe, and [Page 38]throwe headlong men that seeke not after per­fection. Which is truely verified by this saying of Saint AVGVSTINE. I neuer founde Gods ire & indignation more against me: then that it pleased him to appoint me a cōmander ouer others. which truely Desire ought not seeme strange to thee. For as this wicked Wench, which beareth such sway in the house of Pride, is more prone ti wickednes, then all her fellowes: so must we (if throughly we will subdue her) vse greater pollicy, strength, and exercise of vertue. And to the end I protract not the time with circum­stances, I now will deliuer no vaine discourse to thee, but will instruct thee, by what meanes and groundes, thou shatl be able: to ouercome and put to flight, this crue of wicked Maydens. When any of these which so euer shee be shall come: and seeme to complaine as I haue decla­red before: be thou ruled by me and follow my example; As if Concupiscence of the flesh shall come & say, I am allowed both to little meate, and yet that is cold, and not cleanly dressed: my wyne is sowren, & euery thing in our house is sluttishly ordered, answere her but thus, she that hath more then she deserueth, hath no cause to complaine: But thou deseruest not browne bread, & cold water, which most holy & Religious men haue beene contented to liue with. Therefore thou, which art so wicked, so [Page 39]sloathfull, so disdainefull, & redy to complaine, voide of all deuotion, inconstant, enuous amd vnthankefull to God: doest not deserue the coursest bread and water. Which being true, & yet hauing good bread, wyne, and other meate. Why shouldest thou complaine and hast more then thy desert? answere her a like if she finde falte with her apparell. The like reply make also to Concupiscence of the eyes, if she seeke after or wish for this thing or that, & say, O wreatch that thou art, who by thy owne desert, art not worthy to enjoy the least good that is. Yet hast thou the vse, of many deuout and vertuous books, by reading of which if thou wouldest, thou mightest become good. And although (neuertheles) one where sufficient for thee. Yet hast thou holy books of prayers and meditati­ons. Tell me what is it thou desirest more? truly vnder a shewe of desiring things of necessity: thou longest after and seekest for thinges of su­perfluity, then the which nothing can be more opposite to the vowe of Pouertie. And al­though thereby thy merit be not clearely lost: Yet assure thy selfe, it is much impaired. And nothing can more dishonor & shame him, that professeth in pouerty to imitate our Sauiour, then to haue lesse vertue and tast of Religion, then the Heathens who professed the worship of false gods. Amongst whome Seneca shewed [Page 40]him selfe a worthy Captayne and teacher of Pouerty, as we may finde if we reade what is writen of him. The same answere giue I to the third, that is, Pride of life, when shee commeth to me, with a desire to be honored, loued, ac­cōpled of, exalted or preferred to some office. For then say I to her. Thou wreatched Wench, thou hast more honor alredy then thou deser­uest: what hast thou not through the number of thy sinnes deserued, to be throwne headlong downe, into the bottomolesse pit of hell? here to be partaker of the paynes of the damned, and yet behold, how much thou art honored of God, who not only doth tollerate thee, to liue amongst his creatures, but hath admitted thee, also into his house and family: and willingly would haue thee, not only his seruant, but also if thou wouldest one of his daughters. And al­though thy owne vnworthinesse be such, that thou deseruest not to be reckened amongst his inferiour seruants; yet hath he admitted thee into his priuate chamber: and willingly would haue thy presence, both night & day, that thou mightest freely talke with him, prayse him, ho­nour him, and serue him; and that yet liuing here in this mortall life, thou amist be honored with the office of Angels, be chosen as one of his most speciall Friends, sit at his owne table, and feede on the foode him selfe feedeth. And [Page 41]now proude Wench what is it thou wouldest more, whither wouldest thou, through thy pride clyme? wouldest thou ascend againe from whence thou once didest fall? that thou migh­test be plunged as deepe in the bottomlesse pit of hell, as is Lucifer thy father, whose pride threw him thither, what wouldest thou desire? wouldest thou be God? Truely thou canst not say that thou wātest any thing, open thy blinde eyes, and willingly confesse, that thou hast re­ceaued greater benefits from God: than thy base deserts, could any way chalenge, content thy selfe with that, which it hath pleased God to bestowe on thee, and rest satisfied with that estate and degree; which God by his seruants hath allotted to thee, and assure thy selfe that all thinges haue their effect: according to the prouidence and permission of God.

CHAPTER 12. By what meanes the other forenamed naughty Maides may be ouercome.

NOw these thee principall enemies being cleane ouercome, Negligence their nurse is easely vanquished, who by a thousand secret corners stealeth in here amongst vs. Sometime at time of prayer: and sometimes againe when we should attend our works and labours. But still I answere her with this or like answere. Sister, a labouring beast, or a horse, is not kepte [Page 42]in the stable, to be idle, liue easely, eate, drinke and sleepe: but still contentedly to labour, and take paynes. For except he be accustomed to labour, watch, and fast; he groweth rest and taketh stomacke, and will strike at his Master, who so sone as he perceaueth the ill conditions of his beast, presently will beate him, and kicke him with a spure; Euē so the Loue of God doth giue me a spurre, I meane Feare, wherewith when I wax sloathfull he pricketh me. And I my selfe, who am but a seruant and a base vas­sall of this house, doe finde by proofe, that the Maidens of this place must be made to labour, and that they must not be fauoured, in that, which is commanded them, neither are to be suffered to liue idelly and wantonly, least they growe to haue willes and repugne their supe­riours. For no creature is worse then a proude and naughty seruant. Farther I demande whi­ther shee thinke the Kingdome of heauen is to be obteyned, by eating, drinking, sleeping and liuing idlely, which shee for shame cannot affirme. For our Sauour IESVS Christ walked a cleane contrary way. And if hee chose a different way, to come to perpetuall felicity, and would suffer his bitter passion, and that way enter into glory: we likewise if we desire to be partakers with him in glory, must also walke the path of patience, persecution, [Page 43]and pouerty. For so long as our head will goe one way, and our foote an other; our whole body can neuer bee directed the true way. Therefore, except we walke the path of per­secution, affliction, labour, and contempt; we cannot thinke to be incorporated with him, but like corrupt members, must looke to be cut of, and throwen into hell fire: there to be consumed. For except we be pertakers of our Sauiours passion, and seeke him, and suffer with him on the ✚ Crosse: we must not ex­pect to pertake with him, any part of his glo­ry, or of his resurrection. And to conclude ex­cept we be partakers in this life with our Sa­uiour IESVS Christ, who was whipped, spit vpon, despised, wearied and toyled with daily labours, poore, continually suffering hunger and thirst, and at last enduring for our sinnes his bitter passion, and suffering like an offender his paynes on the ✚ Crosse; when not withstanding hee was voide of all faulte, and of all innocents the most inno­cent that liued, except I say we imitate him herein: wee shall neuer finde him a sweete, gentle, and friendly King of glory, and Prince of peace. Sometime this naughty Wench, I still meane Negligence, creepeth into our O­ratory, and there being weary, through lasines and sloath, is perplexed as if shee where cast [Page 44]into a parison. Then say I, Sister, true and per­fect Religion, neuer complaineth of trouble­somnes or wearynes. What can I giue againe to our Lord, for the many benefits he hath be­stowed no me? What ca I doe or suffer enough for my sweete Sauiour and redeemer IESVS, who of this exceeding loue and voluntary will, continewed on the ✚ Crosse, not sitting as I doe, but streatched thereon, not clothed, but naked and trembling with cold, not in a house as I am, but in the open cold ayer: not hauing shoose on his feete to keepe them warme, but nayled to the Crosse, with great, boysterowes, and cold yron nayles; all which paynes & tor­mēts, he suffered for my sake. Why then should I shew my selfe so vngrate: that althopugh not all: Yet I will not suffer some what againe for him? he suffered here for my sake, most excee­ding miseries and painefull laboures, and those not for an houre a night or a day, but all his life which was 33. yeares: he hong a liue three houres vpon the Crosse, in exceeding paynes, most bitrter torments, and vnsufferable griefes, such I say, whose like was neuer felte of man: & yet he a most louing Sauiour esteemed them but small in regarde of his loue and kindnes to­wardes me; and willingly would haue suffered yet greater than these, if necessity any wayes had vrged him to it. Considering then that [Page 45]he is a King, and I no better then a most base bandslaue; he God, and I durte, dust, and cor­ruption; he most holy and innocent, I a sinner worthy of nought but punishment, then he ha­uing suffered all this for mee: shall I grudge or repine to suffer a little for him? What? is the seruante to be regarded aboue the Master? No. Away then Negligence. For I must be busied in those thinges which are my fathers. Smale is the merit we shall receaue here: if we be not free from all wearinesse of the place. For cur­sed is he that doeth the workes of God sloath­fully and negligently. For God seeketh not seruice that is done him by compultion, neither is he delighted with vnwilling sacrifices: but with that which is done with a willing minde, and proceedeth from a sincere & perfect hart. Now this old accursed Wench, being put to her flight, we must also banish her foolish had­maydes: who by how much the more they be wicked and dangerous: by so much the more are they vehemente and strong: and the lesse we labour to mortifie and subdue them: the harder shall we finde it to banish and expell them. The first of them which is Malice, ac­companed with her daughter Anger. I answere in this manner, so sone as shee assaulteth me. Sister, Charity is patient and gentle, then taking the assistance of my husbande: my Purpose, I [Page 46]suppresse her & againe. Nothing can be in­flicted to this beast so seueare, but that she hath deserued farre greater correction. If then I haue deserued greater punishments, I may justly say, I am fauourably spared, not being vsed in rigor according to my deserts. And it is the part of a gentle beast, not to behaue himself stubbournly or rudely to his master, & his whole family; but farre cōtrary to that, quietly, modestly, & gent­ly to all men. For although perhaps to day his Master beate him: Yet to morrowe againe he will feede him wātonly, & wil behaue himselfe toward him, like a louing & kinde Master. And although perhaps outwardly he make no shewes of affection; Yet inwardly doubtles he estee­meth him hightly; but yet dissembleth his affe­ction, and loue, least hee take stomacke being pampered, and so kicke against his Master. BE­sides a beast doth sone forget: any wrong or in­iury, & is pleased againe, if his master but stroke him on the head, or the necke. So I my selfe be­ing iniured by any one of my Sisters, imagining I am a beast & a base vassall, beare it paciently for the Loue of God, and suffer them to vse me according to their pleasures, assuing my selfe, that I cannot endure so many iniuries from them; as my owne vnworthines doth daily de­serue. And knowing farther, that our lord per­mitteth for the heynousnes of my sins: that I be [Page 47]afflicted of them here in this life, so to learne to suffer afflictions for his sake. And now se this maide, who thou sayest doth wish me nothing, but hurt & offence, & that other who thou say­est doth secretly backbite me, & al these other, of whom I am so hated as thou sayest. These I say hate not or malice me: but my vices, faultes, defectes, my malice, my ill manners and condi­tions, & most of al my obstinate, & stubbourne will. Therefore I haue cause rather to thinke they loue me; for what herein they do, procee­deth from zeale and a most holy purpose, nei­ther haue they any agreement with Malice, or thinke her meete to comfort with Vertue. Let vs now therefore consider more iudicially. If I be, or would be thought the hādmaide of God. I must hate & detest (euen from my hart) al my sins, defectes, offences, & imperfections, & the pronesse of my fraylty, which draweth me to these, which being true, why should I malice or stomacke those, which doe but that which my selfe am bound to. To conclude. Know that these who thou sayest speake ill of me, and de­tract me, yet not withstanding are my sisters, whom I am cōmanded to loue, not to hate. And therfore wil I do that which I am enioyned. Yet meane while let them consider, and weigh with themselues, why and to what end they afflict & iniure me. Now againe at some other time she [Page 48]trieth me with Enuie a maide who vseth a two edged sword & hurteth her Sisters both in bo­dy and soule. This Wench is indeede a dange­rous enemie, whose chiefest felicitie is in her Si­sters hurt: and is neuer more grieued then at there vertue and good life. Therefore when shee commeth to assault me, I say Sister you complaine and seeme to be grieued that others in this world possesse greater riches, that o­thers, are endued with more rare bewtie, that others haue more abundantly the giftes of na­ture then your selfe, but I take comfort and reioyce euen in that, and think my selfe happy in wanting them. For neither in this life or the life to come: Desire I any thing but IESVS Christ my Sauiour, he is my treasure, and the treasure of Angels, he is my beauty, and the beauty of all creatures, he is my gayne, and the fountayne of all goodnes. Let others fix their loue where best it shall like them; I desire only my Sauiour IESVS, and his loue euer doe I thirst after with him is no difference twixt ritch and poore, he neuer distinguisheth twixt beau­tifull and fowle. Yet here thou complaniest & sayest to me: this and that body abounde, and excell in wealth and beauty: such & such hap­pines is giuen them, and not me. But on the contrary this I reply. Although these parties are possessed of these pleasures; yet haue I my [Page 49]selfe thinges of greater esteeme. For so noble and so great is the minde that I carry, that it skorneth to bestowe loue or affection: on so base, so abject, and so transitory pleasures. And considering that my name is called HUmility, by humility meane I to conquer my selfe. And I finde the seruants and children of God, to a­bounde with these, and greater blessinges: but not my selfe, who am a base vassall, and no way worthy to be partaker thereof. Now Enuie see­ing shee preuayleth little with her former ob­jections, vrgeth in an enuious manner, the gift of spirituall vertues, saying, beholde such a si­ster who thou knowest right well, is more gi­uen to vertue and deuotion, then thou art; is more conuersant with God, and more exerci­sed in contemplation, and is a Virgin of noted sobriety, and modesty. To whome I streight answere. For what cause desire I to be religi­ous, or to be vertuous and deuoted to prayer? because others should thinke better of me, then they doe of my sisters, praise me, honour me, or admire my vertues? or else because I would be more daintely fedde, cladde more costly, or abound in worldly pleasures. No truely, but for this cause only, that I may serue and please God, and that my sweete Sauiour Iesus, may by me, and in me, be praysed and honoured. Therefore is it my dutie, and that which I am [Page 50]bound to rejoyce in, when I see that my most louing Lord and Master, hath such vertuous deuout seruants, that be wholy giuen to his ser­uice and prayer, and endued with most rare ho­lines of life, and spende their time in Religious exercises. And I hold it my duety to pray to God, to giue them greater perfection, & more abundat grace, whereby he may be more high­ly honored of them. For if I had but the least tast of Gods loue in me, wherein not my part & duety to labour what I cold: that he might be knowen, honored and loued of all the world, & to pray that he would bestowe his grace on all men, whereby he might of them be continually honored? Therefore most accursed Wench, flie farre from my sight. Thou knowest not what charitable Loue is, considering thou art the daughter of that wicked, damnable, and false Apostata. For I would if it pleased God, that he depriued me of all spirituall & corporall good, which of his bountie he hath bestowed on me, and giue them to others, who with them would honor, and prayse him more then I doe, who am so barraine and vnfruitfull a soyle, and haue receaued his grace and giftes in vaine. For I de­sire nothing in this world, but Gods prayse and honor; and will daily seeke it, how dearely so euer I obtayne it. See then wreatched Wench how farre thou art deceaued. Markest thou [Page 51]not that God knoweth what he doeth? he seeth plainely that these vessels, into which so abun­dantly he infuseth his blessings: be farre more pure, & of a more humble spirit then I my self. And therefore iustly hath denyed mee such grace, seing right well that I am full of pride, & a vessell filled with anger and malice, which through haughtines of minde would proudely attempt: to scale (if it cold) the heauens them­selues, which duely pondered, I rest contented with the will and pleasure of my sweete Lord IESVS, neither desire I to finde ought else but him.

CHAPTER. 13. By what meanes we may expell all Malice from our selues.

THe third daughter of Malice, is called Sloath, a most dangerous enemy, who is cold and lasie in spirituall exercises, and the seruice of GOD: Wherein consisteth the summe of our saluation. Her am I wonte to answere in this manner. Thou desirest Sister and willingly wouldest perswade me, neither to frequent the seruice of GOD: nor to vse at all anie spirituall exercises. And therefore of purpose to conquer and subdue thee: I will spende more time, in watching, and pray­ing, and diume contemplation, where vnto she [Page 52]thus replyeth. Seest not thou thy selfe euen frozen with a cold deuotion, and to feele no whitte at all any zeale of Gods seruice in thee, but to vse thy exercises, against thy owne vo­luntary disposition, which prouoketh iustly the indignation of God. Neither doest thou ought els but tempt God therein: who desireth no vnwilling, or impulsiue seruices; but such as proceede from a chearefull and willing minde. Then reply I againe. Away thou wicked wreatch, I perceaue thy meaning. Knowest thou not that at such time I shew my loue grea­ter to God, when I serue him with my owne will be it neuer so small: then when I finde my selfe endued with extraordinary deuotion by him? art thou ignorant that God sometimes of purpose withdraweth his grace: thereby to try and prooue our strength? And then when he perceaueth vs to offer vp, and bestowe on him that little deuotion which is remayning in vs: he doubleth his grace, & heauenly consolation in vs. Yet so, that finding our selues voide of inwarde sensible grace, we cast not cleane away our good will, & harty desire. Therfore where­as thou askest why being so cold, and cleane voide of deuotion, yet I goe to pray (conside­ring as thou sayest, that is but to tempt God) assure thy selfe, although I felt in me farre lesse deuotion, and will to serue God: yet that not [Page 53]withstanding I would frequent my prayers, and would set my selfe in the sight of our Lord, nei­ther would I speake or desire ought of him, but standing before him, would yeeld to him al due honor and reuerence, imagining him­selfe to be present in my sight, and that I beheld him, and that there I stoode before his high, diuine, and fearefull Majesty. That he who is the fire of loue would inflame my harte when he should thinke conuenient. Therefore submit I my self to his holy will, & am content with that which it shall please him to graunt me. And the wea­ker, fainter, and colder I finde my selfe, so much the nearer I will come to this fire. For if I will depart from it, then shall I finde my selfe farre colder then before. Therefore depart from me thou naughty Wench. For I doe not vse & fre­quent my daily prayers, my deuout contempla­tions, and spirituall exercises for my owne con­tentment, comfort, or delight; but only to this end, thereby to serue my Lord God & honour him, considering I know we it to be his holy will and pleasure, that I should do so, and that I ex­ercise my selfe in all vertue, and holines to the honour & prayse of his holy name. Now when this wicked mayden with her practises cannot withdrawe me from the Loue of God. She ta­keth a new course, and laboureth to winne my loue from my fellow Sisters. And taking the [Page 54]assistance of her before named Nouices, Suspiti­on, and rash iudgmēt assaulteth me againe, & per­swadeth me to hate and malice my sisters, and to carry a sinister opinion of them, whereby I should, either suspect some ill in them, or else rashly without some just cause condemne thē: hence proceede contempt, repining, murmu­ring, and detraction. But my selfe with the as­sistance of my Purpose marking her; presently answere. It beseemeth not so base, and so ab­ject a maide as my selfe, to judge amisse of my sisters, or Superiours: neither lawfull for sin­ners to intermeddle with sacred vesselles, or for beastes to come nigh the holy mountaine. It best beseemeth me to account all my sisters, vertuous, and holy: but my selfe most wreat­ched, and full of foule sinne. For it is a se­cret to me, what all men are in the sight of GOD, or in what manner they shall ende this mortall life. As for my selfe, I knowe right well, that my pronesse to sinne, and naughty appetites and desires, woulde drawe me headlong to the pitte of hell, were I not preserued by Gods diuine grace and mercie. Therefore knowe I right vvell what I may feare of my selfe and suspect, that is, whe­ther my conscience, my wordes, and deedes, be good: for I know my selfe, but am a stran­ger to others. And therefore so much as ap­pertayneth [Page 55]to my fellowes, I will choose the safest course, that is, to thinke, and speake all good of them; assuring my selfe thereby to gaine, but neuer to loose. For nothing is more dangerous, then to be ruled by our owne will, and to refuse a certainty, for an vncer­tainety. Charity neuer thinketh amisse. And I finde it a charge great enough for me, to judge and discerne mine owne conscience, my affections, my wordes, and deedes: and not to busie my selfe in censuring these, not curiously to intermeddle in others actions. For vvho made me a Iudge, betweene God and my sisters? or betweene them and their owne consciences? Truly no man. Avoide thou therefore, or hast thou ought else to say? I plainely see thou art nowe ouercome, in seeking to suggest to me a suspition of my sisters, vvhich is a most damnable, and wick­ed thing, and wholy repugnant to holy, and true meaning simplicity, whereof God him­selfe is the chiefest Author: with vvhome, no man may, or can at any time dissemble. And if any man will say, that mistrust, or sus­pition may be admitted, and allowed in a Su­periour, or any one that hath rule ouer o­thers, and that my before alleadged rea­sons bee not sufficient to refute him, let him assure himselfe, that greate diligence, [Page 56]much wisedome, and carefull circumspection, must therein be vsed: and that for this respect, as experience teacheth vs. If a man wil be sus­pitious of his wifes loyalty and honesty, & she shall perceaue her husbandes distrust: although perhaps before sne were true to him, and ho­nest; yet may she thereby be moued to disloy­alty. Whereupon Seneca saith, Suspition is the cause of many mens sinne. Therefore considering their intention and purpose is good: vvhy shouldest thou say their actions are naught, when in all likelihoode they might erre, either through ignorance, or simplicity, or want of experience, by some sodaine motion, or hu­mane frailitie, or by some naturall imperfection which they are subject to. And in all these ac­cidents, no malitious, or foolish rash judgment is to be giuen. But rather we must pittie and be sorrowfull for such imperfections, and ex­cuse them charitably for the Loue of God. But if this answere in reason will not suffice thee, because thou saist their offences be too appa­rant, then I say, God by his secret judgment suffereth such thinges to happen, through whose prouidence, all thinges happen, that exceede our grosse capacities. And as he ne­uer ceaseth of himselfe to doe good in vs: so sometime permitteth he that we fall into such temptations, which notwithstanding hee oft [Page 57]turneth, either to the good of him that offen­ded, or else, to the good of others, that haue seene it. Take thou heede therefore, thou proceede no farther herein. For hee that will take vpon him to judge others, vndertaketh that which appertayneth to GOD, or rather desireth that himselfe were GOD. Marke then wicked wreatch, what befell thy Father, when he aspired to be like vnto GOD. Far­ther, a horse, or any other labouring beast, is not of so malitious, or enuious a nature, that he suspect, or holde in jealousie his fel­lowe beastes, or censure their actions in a wronge vnderstanding. But hath his minde onlie fette on his journey, and that hee may carry his burthen according to his Masters minde. Neither regardeth hee if any of his fellowes erre in their way, but with an honest emulation will labour to his power, to fol­lowe, or goe before those he ought to imi­tate: which if he cannot, yet will he keepe the way that he is directed, and not intermeddle with any but himselfe. Neither will he seeke at any time to goe backe againe, or rest in his journey; except thereby he may performe what he vndertaketh the better: neither grudge or repine at that he is commaunded, or back­bite, or slaunder his Master, or any other. Considering then, that I haue made my selfe [Page 58]a beast for the Loue of God: I must humble and carry my selfe like a beast, and intermedle with nothing but with my selfe.

CHAPTER. 14 Of other exercises of Humility.

DEsire hauing with admiration attentiuely marked the exercises of Humilitie, said vnto her. Now finde I that true Lady Mother, which I haue heard: that Humilitie contey­neth in her selfe, all justice, vertue, peace, qui­etnesse, and happinesse, and all spirituall, and temporall comfort, and contentation. Yet far­ther, I desire to know one doubt; whether these naughty wenches, when they come in here a­mongst you, be knowne by sight: or whether they take the habit of your Virgins, and so by subteltie intermingle amongst them: or what meane and way you haue to discouer them. HVM. Truly Son, thy question is a matter of great importance. Knowe therefore that the Diuine goodnesse hath hanged vp a Lampe in the midest of our chamber, called good Conscience, which burneth day and night, beeing kindled with the oyle of his Mercy, and the wicke, or cotton of holy Scripture. Farther, this Lamp is to be tyed with a rope, called Watch ouer our harts, to a nayle, which is called, Watch ouer our sences: Now so long as this Lamp is kindled and bur­neth: we neuer feare them, because we doe pre­sently [Page 59]know them. And although they inter­mingle themselues with the good: yet by their gate, we easely discerne thē. For they be croke shouldered, and hault, and limp in their pase, so that they neither can goe speedely, nor accor­ding to the vowe they made. But if through our sinnes this Lampe be extinguished, or by our negligence the nayle slippe out, or the rope chaunce to breake, or our Lord for our deme­rits withdrawe the oyle (which he neuer doth except we first shedde it) then are we in dark­nesse, and all things fall out to the worst for vs. Therefore pray wee dayly to our Lord God, that it will please him of his goodnesse, to lighten our Lamp, saying with the Prophet Dauid: For thou O Lord dost lighten my Lampe: lighten O God my darknes. DE. God I beseech him, giue you his grace & charity: for you haue greatly comforted my spirits. HVM. Take nowe for thy companions these Virgins here, & let them so long accompany thee, vntil thou be throughly armed with true feare: that if by chaunce these wicked wēches fortune to meete thee, they aduenture not to shew their hate & malice against thee, nor endeuour to withdraw thee from among vs. Here hast thou Seueritie against Concupiscence of the flesh the first. Man­hood or strength against Concupiscence of the eyes the secōd. Humility against Pride of life the third. [Page 60] Diligence against Negligence, the fourth. Gentle­nesse against Malice, the fift. And now the grace of God be alwayes with thee.

CHAPTER. 15. Of the vertues, that be daughters of Humilitie.

HVM. Thus by the grace of Almighty God, and the helpe and assistance of my forenamed husbande: Iouercome and subdue my enemies, and my selfe. Desire much pleased with this discourse of Humility, said to her: DE. I entreate you Lady Mother, that it may stand with your good likeing, that I may visit and be acquainted with the Virgins of this so­ciety. HVM. Proceede my Sonne assisted with Gods grace, most willingly I assent to thy desire. And thou daughter, which art steward of this house, accompany him, and shewe him the house, and bring him to the Celles of euerie Virgin. This said, Desire departed chearefully out, of the Lady Mothers chamber, accompa­ned with Nihili-pensio or Contempt of all vnne­cessary cares. Who was steward of the house, & gouernesse of the Nouices, and was carried by her to the Cell of a Virgin, who was the first, & eldest daughter of Humility, called Confession, of whome he asked the manner, of her life and conditions. CONF. I am the daughter of our Mother Humility, and the scholler of this [Page 61]Virgin here our gouernesse, with whome I oft frequent, and am much delighted with her fa­miliarity, and acknowledge my selfe what I am, according as I finde my selfe in examining my conscience. Desire thought this Virgin of rare and singuler vertue, and departing from her was brought into the Cell of an other daughter of Humility, whose name was Desire of Contēpt, who receauing him courteously, was asked of Desire, both her name and conditions. VIR. my name is Desire of Coutempt, because I desire, not to be honoured or esteemed of any man. Desire wondered hearing this Virgin desire to be so much contemned, considering how diffe­rent it was from the mindes of most men. But admired her vertues, finding, she did it for the Loue of God. And leauing her, was brought in­to the Cel of an other Virgin, whose name was To reioyce in being contemned. Of whome Desire being entertayned, demaded likewise her name and conditions. VIR. My name is To reioyce to be contemned. For I wish to be despised, scor­ned, and iniured for the Loue of God. DE. Instruct me I beseech you how I may attayne to this vertue, for such is the haughtines of my proude minde, that I doe not only reioyce: but am grieued and repine if I be contemned, scor­ned, despised, or iniured, VIR. That pro­ceedeth from want of Humility, whose vertue [Page 62]is to contemne, and neglect her selfe for the Loue of God. And truely this is an apparant token that thou aboundest vvith pride, and ouer much selfe loue. But seing thou art by GOD conducted hither into this Monaste­ry, we will willingly instruct thee, in all kinde of vertue, and altering thy habit, will make thee a newe man, and will direct and instruct thee, how to speake with the Loue of God, for other wayes thou shalt be sure for to loose thy labour. Therefore if thou wouldest at­tayne to my vertue, thou must imprinte in thy hart my Sister, Desire to bee contemned, thinking and determining thus with thy selfe, henceforth will I desire to be scorned and con­temned, and to be neglected of all men for the Loue of God. This desire once throughly fixed in thy hart, thou shalt by degrees at­tayne to my vertue, through prayer study, and diligent endeuour. And although at the beginning thou shalt endure some la­bour and payne: by striuing to subdue and master thy owne appetites: Yet perseuer to the end, and thou shalt gette the victorie. In so much that thou shalt rejoyce; when any thing is said or done to thee, contrary to thy likeing. Farther thou must by degrees enforce thy selfe to desire, to be scorned, des­pised and contemned. For it is most true, that [Page 63]no man can be humble, that is not just. And he that shall not desire, to be despised, con­temned, mocked, and debased, this man can­not be called just. DE. How may that be, that whosoeuer desireth and wisheth not to bee despised, should bee said to bee a man vn­just. For by that accompt, wee shall finde but fewe just men, and in my opinion this can­not be true. VIRG. I will easely prooue what I haue said. It cannot be denied but that hee is jus, which giueth to each man, that which is right: if therefore man can chalenge nothing else for himselfe, but to be contem­ned, scorned, mocked and debased; hee is not just which desireth, not to bee so vsed. DE. I would heare you prooue that, and shewe plainely how, nothing but contempt is due to man. VIRG. I will. First there is no question, but that all that which is good, ought be loued, honored, desired, and pray­sed, and how much greater and better it is, so much the more it ought to be loued: con­trarie wayes, that what so is naught, ought to be despised, hated, rejected, and suppressed. Now if it be true that euery men is ill, it fol­loweth that of right hee must bee contemned and despised. DE. Tell mee how all men are to be said to be naught. VIRG. Only GOD is good, therefore all men are naught. [Page 64]DE. I cannot yeald to that conclusion. VIRG. Logitians shall proue, that none is good but God: and whatsoeuer is not God, is not good, but ill. And if man be ill, that all shame, re­proach, and contempt is due to him.

CHAPTER. 16. How all creatures are good, and yet none is good, but God himselfe.

DESIRE. I am not yet resolued by thy alleadged reasons, considering thou saist that God is good, and that whatsoeuer is not God, is not to be said good. And the holy Scripture saith, that God sawe all thinges that he had made, & that they were not only good, but very good. Farther, considering God is good (as indeede he is the chiefe goodnesse it selfe, and the efficient cause, and beginning of all thinges created) all things that he hath made must of necessity be good, that the worke be answerable to the workeman that made it. Whereupon it followeth, that whatsoeuer God hath made must of necessitie be very good. Be­sides, considering man is the most excellent of all corporal creatures, it is plaine, that he is not only good, but very good. And then if he be good, by thy owne rule it followeth, that both honour and loue, are due to him. VIRG. I will not maintaine a long disputation with thee, for that disagreeth with the rules of Hu­mility, [Page 65]only I will open what I haue said more at large, that thou maist better vnderstand my meaning. The scripture sayeth, that none is good but only God. Which is thus to be vn­derstood, that only God is essentially good; & to be good is only proper to him. And what soeuer he hath made, may be said to be good, participating in goodnes, giuē to them by God: For whatsoeuer goodnes they haue is Gods, not their owne. So when thou seest good giftes bestowed on any creature from aboue, thou must honor and loue such a creature; But this honor and loue must be referred to God, and not to the creature. Therefore our selues and all creatures are to be loued of vs, because they be good in their essence or being, as the crea­tures of God & this is, to loue God in his crea­tures. Let not therefore any man desire, to be praysed or honored for his owne sake: but for the goodnesse which God hath bestowed on him: attributing and referring it all to GOD. For it is one thing that man hath from God, but an other which he hath of him selfe. From God he hath what good soeuer is, but from him selfe whatsoeuer is ill. He hath from God that he representeth, and carrieth his Image & like­nesse. But of him selfe through wicked life and euell manners, he is made altogither dislike to God. Also it is giuen to him by the grace of [Page 66]God, to desire to be good and endued with ver­tue: but of himselfe hee desireth ill, and doeth those thinges that most displease God. From hence we learne that those thinges which are bestowed on man from aboue, are greatly to be honoured, and highly to be loued, which are the cōditions of his creation & his natural bles­sings, & yet not to be loued for his owne sake, but for the honor of God: cōtrary those things to be hated, which are in man himselfe, as his vices offences & al other imperfections. So that diuersly we honor & despise, loue & hate some thinges, in one & the selfe same man. And be he endued with neuer so great vertue & deuotion: Yet let him be assured, that of himselfe he hath nothing that is good, and still let him desire that in regarde of the good giftes bestowed on him by god, be they vertue, deuotion or other spirituall benefits, that God alone be honored and loued for them, and that all prayse be gi­uen to him as to the fountayne of all goodnes. But for the sinne in him, which he knoweth to be his owne, let him desire to be despised, hated, and contemned of all men. This doing I say he is to be accompted iust. But if euery iust man shall desire to be contemned after this sort, how great is the iniustice of a man desiled with sinne, not only not to desire to be con­temned as I haue said: but to desire and la­bour [Page 67]to be honoured and extolled: Let not therefore a wreatched sinner thinke and ima­gine that he hath shewed much Humility, in desiring to be contemned, or let him not be the better perswaded of him selfe, therefore consi­dering the most holy, vertuous, and deuoutest man is bound of duty to desire as much.

CHAPTER. 17. Of the same.

DEsire was not a little pleased herewith, and said to this Virgin. DE. I beseech you Sister instruct and direct me, by what meanes I may attayne to this holy Desire. VIR. Two wayes there bee, by which thou maist obtayne it, which are the Loue of God, and a holy Purpose, to object & imbase thy selfe like to a labouring beast: to which holy Purpose our Gouernesse hath wedded her self. And if thou wilt be ruled by my directions, thou shalt finde thy selfe not a little assisteth thereby. DE. Most willingly will I be instructed by you. VIR. Then assure thy self that the Loue of God whome I perceaue thou art so desirous to finde, hath no more dan­gerous & hurtful enemy thē is thy owne body, Inure thou thy selfe therefore daily to this cu­stome that euery morning thou say to thy soul. Let me see now soule, how thou wilt this day hate thy body, which is so great an enemy, to thy sweete Sauiour and Creator IESVS, [Page 68]and how much thou wilt desire, that it may be despised, afflicted, tormented, and scorned. At night likewayes say thus againe. Now shewe me my soule how this day, thou hast despised, thy body so rebellious against thy most sweete Lord IESVS, & how thou hast desired that it might be afflicted, and iniured of all men, and hast laboured that nothing be pardoned it, but hast carried thy self most seuere against it. This doing deare Brother, and still conuersing in these good thoughts, and euer perseuering in this thy desire, this only exercise in time will bring thee, to an exceeding perfection of perfit Humility, and will teach how to ouercome, and put to flight the most dangerous enemy, and be trayer of thy soule; and in conclusion thou shalt thereby attayne, to so greate hatred of thy selfe: that thou shalt wish & labour to be con­temned and despised. And when hereafter thou shalt happen to be contemned of some man; then sticke fast to me, & forsake not my ver­tue. But with rejoycing and thankes giuing to God, say thus to thy selfe. Now thankes be to God, who hath reuenged me of my enemie. Desire being much contented with the directi­on of this Virgin, tooke leaue of her, and was brought into the Cell of an other daughter of Humility, whose name was Simplicity, who re­ceauing him louingly, was asked by him her [Page 69]name, vertue, and conditions. SIMP. My name is Simplicitie. My office and conditions is to behaue my selfe simply, sincerely, and plainely towardes all men: and to conceane no hurte or ill meaning of any thing, that I shall happen to heare or to see: but to thinke all thinges to be done rightly and holylie, and to thinke ill of no body but my selfe: For I euer suspect and feare my selfe, and continually watch ouer my thoughts and desires, still loo­king into my selfe, and holding open the right eye of perfect wisdome, whereby I may e­chewe and auoide all euell, and our Mother Humility, be made more strong in her vertue. DE. What? is not Humilitie endued with all kinde of vertue, except thou hold, and keepe open thy eye. SIMP. No considering Sim­plicity without Wisdome, is of no estimation, but hurteth rather then helpeth. For the Loue of God loueth no man, but such as shall came with true knowledge and Wisdome.

CHAPTER. 16. Of the manners and conditions of Simplicitie.

DESIRE. Now then I desire to be in­structed by you my Sister, how and in what manner you behaue your selfe, simply towardes all sortes of people. SIMP. In three thinges, which are, in thought, worde, and deede. First I neuer vse to thinke vpon those [Page 70]things: which are aboue my knowledge & ca­pacity, neither desire I, th honors, estimations, & vanities of this world, but stil perseuer in this humble thought, that I am the most abject of al the world, and vnworthiest that liueth to be the seruant of God: thinking all other holy & ver­tuous, & replenished with al kindes of grace & vertue. Secondly I resolue to vse no flattering, feyned, or deceiptful wordes, but a playne affir­mation or else a deniall, that is only, yea, yea: or no, no. For whatsoeuer is more, proceedeth not of good, but from the roote & groūd of vanity. Thirdly I haue determined to busie my selfe, in no worldly, curious, or vayne workes, but in such only as are simple, and yet necessary, least thereby I be drawne to vanity of singularity, & thereby be expelled & kept out from hēce. For to doe an action simply, bringeth Humility of hart, but otherwayes to doe is most ful of perils. DE. As how. SIMP. Thou shalt vnderstand Desire, that our gouernes & Lady Mother Hu­militie, hath set me here, & imposed this charge on me, to keepe safely in this Monastery two rare Iewels which are remayning here, which are the one, Purity of hart, the other Innocency The valew whereof is of so high esteeme, that they cannot be prised according to their wor­thines. For the obteyning whereof this mona­sery, & the other seated in this desert: where at [Page 71]the beginning foūded & built. And what good soeuer we doe, is referred to the getting & kee­ping these Iewels. But if Curiosity, Vanity, or Sin­gularitie should enter by the gate of our hart, our mouth, or else our action they would steale & carry away both these Iewels frō vs. And ther­fore if any of our Virgins shall not imploy all their thoughts, words, & workes to get & pre­serue these: we accompte them fooles, not vn­derstading what they vndertake. DE. Why do you so carefully preserue these Iewels conside­ring that by your profession you haue vowed pouerty? it is dangerous lest you should offend in couetousnes, keeping such vnnecessary and pretious iewels, cōsidering many poore people may sterue through want of them. SIM. Here­in thou art deceaued: For although in posses­sing, louing, or desiring ritches or goods, a man may sin in couetousnes, according to the intēti­on for which he shal desire them: yet can there be no sin in possessing these Iewels, in regarde that we desire, keepe, & preserue them only for the Loue of God, therwith to honor & serue him, at such time as it shal please him to come hither amongst vs; or when we conuerse with him in his holy house. Rust and canker, consume and spoile other worldly Iewels: But these that are kept & layde vp in our harts, no rust, no cāker, no corruption can consume. For no man can se [Page 72]them but he, which doth possesse them. DE. If he shall lay them open, cannot rust then hurt them? SIMP. No: for if purposely hee snew them, that others should see them, then doth not he possesse them any longer. For he that hath them doth not thinke, he hath them but laboureth still that he may get them. And many times our Sauiour doth so bestow them, that he that hath, them doth not know he hath them. Which our most louing Lord doth to this intent, that presumption and selfe liking which lurke in mens harts, should not secretly steale them and take them away. Therefore whosoeuer doth most of all other possesse them: doth with al secrecy that he can conceale them, and hide them.

CHAPTER 19. How Purity of hart, and Innocency may be preserued.

DESIRE much delighted with this dis­course of Simplicitie, said to her. DE. tell me by what meanes these pretious Iewels may be preserued. SIMP. There is one thing amongst others very necessary, for nouices and young folkes, and the same not vnprofitable for those that be of more yeares, which is to fly and to locke, and to keepe close our gates from much company. For if a man will vse the familiarity, and fellowshippe of many, and take [Page 73]delight to heare and to see many things, he shal hardly be able to preserue these Iewels, for our mindes many wel be compared to a looking glasse, which representeth the likenesse of anie thing set before it, or to wax which reteyneth the impression of a zeale. DE. But how can one fly or shut the dores that liueth continually in a Religious society? for such a person hath occasion to goe into many places, and the Su­periour cōmandeth sometimes one thing, some times an other, and such a party is enforced to talke, with many & often commanded to con­uerse with all sortes of people. For other wayes he shall be accompted singuler, and singularity although it be couered with a shew of holines and vertue: Yet is it hatefull, and ought to be eschewed and shunned. SIMP. It is true as thou sayest, we must heare, see, and say manie thinges for obedience, which if we did of our owne accorde and desire, we should offende. But when obedience and charity doe moue vs there vnto (prouided we be not negligent but doe our best endeuours,) there is no doubt to be had for loosing these Iewels. DE. What must we doe in doing our endeuours? SIMP. It is needful that whosoeuer would keepe these Iewels of Puritie & Innocencie, & either for obe­dience or necessity cannot be secluded, nor liue in solitary or vnfrequēted places, it is necessary [Page 74]I say that he make me his companion, who tru­sting to my fellowshippe, (he trauaile all the world about) yet needeth not feare to loose these Iewels. DE. I desire you to explaine your meaning by similitudes, for so, such as be but simple shal the better vnderstand you. SIMP. It is requisite for a man, that will haue Puritte of hart and Innocencie, (which are the especiall manes to attayne to all vertues, and by which meanes to attayne to all vertues, and by which we may readily come to all perfection, perfect charity, and the chiefe marke which we stoote at, that is the Loue of God.) It is necessary as I haue said to attayne to these vertues, to fly con­uersation, & shut the gates against cōpany. If he cannot do so, then let him take me a cōpanion, and in all thinges that he shall heare or see, still keepe me in his right eye. And when the left eye shall seeke to behold any thing, that may tast of couetousnes, or of foolish, or of rash judgement, then let him behold the same with the right eye of Simplicitie, thinking & perswa­ding thus simply with himself. That euery man and woman, brother & sister &c. is the Angell and Sonne of Almighty God, & that all other thinges are certayne instruments or Organnes, which without intermission doe laude & praise their Creator. And by the same rule what ill so euer he shal heare, or se of his neighbour, let the right eye excuse it, & cōster it to the best. And [Page 75]let him prayse & glorifie God, for all his crea­tures which the last eye of couetousnes shall al­lure him to desire, calling to minde the beauty, comlines & goodnes of his Creator, and all o­ther his proprieties, saying thus to him selfe. I will not desire, or loue any thing created to any other end, but that in them, and with them I may loue and prayse God, likewise in all his wordes and actions, it is very necessary that he associate himself with me. DE. How shall we say, all the actions of mē are done in simplicity. SIMP. When their intention shal be simple, pure; and right, and all that they doe being of it selfe good, shall be also just & right, in all cir­cumstances of time, place & person, & shal not do any thing, but either for the honor & prayse of God, or for the good of the soule, or body of himselfe, or his neighbour, or els for the benefit of the whole cōmon wealth, he that doth thus, walketh simply in al his actions. And whosoe­uer shal choose & keepe Simplicity for his cōpa­nion, he liueth & walketh securely & happily.

CHAPTER. 20. Of Pouertie.

DEsire much pleased with this discourse of Simplicitie, taking his leaue of her was brought to the Cell of an other of Humilities daughters, whose name was Pouerty, of whome being louinglie entertayned, he spake [Page 76]to her as followeth. DE. I am not a little de­lighted with your fellowship & acquaintance, assuring my selfe, how dearely you are beloued of the Loue of God, & therefore desire to know your conditions and course of life. POV. I contemne & refuse for the Loue of God, to haue or possesse any worldly or transitory goods. DE. In what thing then, consisteth your joy and only comfort? POV. My only treasure and riches is for the Loue of God, to be poore, and possesse nothing. DE. I cannot but great­ly meruaile thereat, considering that as I haue heard of others, this Monastery was first foun­ded and built by a Lord, that is the most noble, rich, and bountifull of al the world. What then should be the reason, or his intention, that the inhabitantes of it, should be so poore and nee­dy? neither vnderstand I how your pouertie can be so acceptable to him. POV. I will tell you. That Lord, which is founder & buil­der of this Monastery, is King and Master of all the world, and hath, and keepeth his riches and treasures all in his owne handes. And yet notwithstanding, it is his will and pleasure, that we should liue in continuall pouerty, to the end we fixe not, or settle our loue and affection, on any other creature, but on himselfe. He could if it so pleased him, bestow abundance on vs: but to his best beloued, he doth not; because they [Page 77]should loue him only, and hate this world, and the vanities thereof. And wee cannot aske a more manifest token of his loue towardes vs, then that he suffereth vs to bee in necessity in this miserable life, & sendeth vs not those plea­sures, which fraile flesh would couet. And yet farther, he will haue vs spend our liues in po­uerty, least temporall, and needles cares should ouercome our weake mindes; but will, that we should serue him, with quiet cōtented thoughts and not be mooued, either with losse, or gaine of worldly commodities, or too much rejoyce or lament, in prosperity, or aduersity, with o­uer great mirth, or exceeding sorrow: but haue our harts still vnited to him; in peace, and con­tentation? without any mislike. For such is the disposition of the Loue of God, that he will not inhabit but in still and sequestred places. DE. What is the especial vertue that is in you. POV To conforme and frame my selfe according to my sisters, amongst whome I liue. And al­though I desire to possesse nothing: yet to keepe out and expell an enemy of ours, that seeketh daily to enter amongst vs, and destroy our garden, and eate vp our fruit, whose name is Singularity: our Lady Mother will haue mee liue like my other sisters. And yet that I loose not the reward of my vertue shee hath mar­ried me to a holy Purpose, whose mame is, to [Page 78]aske nothing. And farther, she telleth me if I will attaine to perfection, that I must rest content with that which is giuen me, be it much, or litle; and accept as thankfully, of grosse and homely diet, as of that which shall be prouided at the costliest price, and to leaue part of that which is alowed to me, and to be content for the Loue of God, to take so much only, as necessity shal de­sire. DE. That is, as if one should desire to be better then good, or labour to doe more then he were bound to doe. For if I rightly vnder­stand it, that Lord which hath founded and e­rected this Monastery, commaundeth you to haue the spirit of pouerty, as the Prophet saith. If thou abound in riches, beware thou settle not thy loue on them. Whereby I gather, that the vertue of pouerty, doth not consist in hauing, or pos­sessing much, or little: but in the loue, or con­tempt we take in them. POV. I doe not de­ny, but that the spirit of pouerty consisteth in the minde, yet notwithstanding it is much sa­fer for the Loue of God, to possesse nothing: considering our loue and affection to rich and beautifull thinges, is so fraile and prone, that hardly can wee haue them, without fixing our loue on them. Least therefore such worldlie riches shoulde gayne some parte of our loue from the Loue of God which is already but smal towards him, it is good (as the saying is) to re­moue [Page 79]the strawe farther from the fier. For the Loue of God, doth chalenge of duety all the loue of man wholy to him selfe, and manie there bee that herein flatter themselues, say­ing, I doe not immoderatelie loue this or that thing, neither would I to much sorrow if it where taken from me. But beleeue mee affe­ction, and loue is so subtle a thing, that hardly are men founde not louing what they possesse. Neither can we haue a better example hereof then our SAVIOVR CHRIST him­selfe, who when he could haue possessed the whole ritches of the world, without feare to loue or affect them extraordinarily: yet re­member how needely, and poorely not him­selfe liued, but also his Blessed Mother and his Holy APOSTLES. Which, howe can we anie other wayes conceaue: but that we must neither affect, or possesse any world­ly ritches: For which cause I haue clearely forsaken all such vnnecessary thinges, as I v­sed to haue with me in my Cell reteyning no­thing els, but the Image of my sweete SA­VIOVR hanging naked on the ✚ Crosse, thereby to remember his great loue to mee. I once vsed to keepe many books with mee, but nowe possesse only a Bible, the life of SAINCTES, and the life of my SAVI­OVR IESVS, with some fewe other for [Page 80]my deuotions. And rest fully contented to meditate on sweete Iesus, and to busie my selfe with the booke of his holy life.

CHAPTER. 21. Of Obedience.

DEsire receauing no lesse contentment from this Virgin, tooke leaue of her, and weas brought to the Cel of an other daughter of Humility, called Obedience. To her Desire yealded very great reuerence, in that she seemed to him to be of high dignity, and authority, & of great estimation with the Loue of God, and more be­loued of him, then her other sisters. Now De­sire for reuerence sake, offering to kisse her hand, was denyed of her, in regard that being the daughter of Humility, she would not al­lowe either reuerence or honour, to be shewed to her, but willing Desire to sitte downe by her, he asked of her, her orders and conditions. OBED. I am married to a holy Purpose, cal­led, to omitte nothing I ought to doe. Hee is a mighty, strong, and worthy Knight, who alone is able to subdue & put to flight, the most dan­gerous beast in all the world, called Selfe Will. Which beast doth destroy, kill, and swallowe vp: all that loue and obey her; and shee doth with a kinde of flattering allurement, entise and drawe to her al obstinate people, of which, few forsake her, vntill she drawe them into hell, & [Page 81]vtter damnation. The greatest part of people, and almost all forsake me, notwithstanding it is most certaine, that without me, no man can finde the Loue of God, who is a Lord of so great dignity, and excellency, that the whole world canot be compared with him. And in regard it hath pleased almighty God: to bestow so good and noble a husband on me, I do not any thing but what he shall command me. Neither doe I desire to be eased, or remitted, from that is com­manded me, except some vrgent necessity con­straine me thereunto. And in regard of theeues and robbes, which lie so secretly amongst vs, that hardly they can be discried, or discouered by vs, I neuer dare to walke alone. DE. What companion doe you vse? OBED. First I take with me my dogge for a companion, called as yours is, Good will. Next I joyne to me my sister Simplicity, and my daughters Douotion, Chearefulnesse, Diligence, perseuerance, and Pu­rity. But chiefely our Lady Mother Humility, doth alwaies assotiate her selfe with mee. All these of necessitie must I haue with me, if I will securely walke to doe that, which I am commanded. DE. Tell mee I beseech you, How doth your Mother HUmility joyne her selfe with you for that as yet I doe not vnder­stand? OBED. In any thing that I vnder­take and doe, be it neuer so great, I doe not [Page 82]flatter my selfe that I haue done it well, neither haue I any confidence in that I doe, or by do­ing any thing well, growe into pride of minde. Neither perswade I my selfe, that others could not doe it besides my selfe, or that they could not doe it so well as my selfe, neither thinke I my selfe good, if I doe any thing that is good, or woulde be praysed for doing it, or thought by others apt and fitte to doe it; but with all humility I giue the thankes to God, in that it hath pleased him, to bestowe vnderstanding, wisedome, and ability on me: for the loue of him to doe so good a thing. And I say to my selfe, in regard it hath pleased God to bestowe his grace on me, to execute such a worke, for this thing especially I holde my selfe bound to him. And therefore desire I nothing else of o­thers, but that they will honor and praise God. And that vntill the last day of my life, nothing but labour and paine be allotted to me, all ho­nour, and praise be to Almighty God, and be­nefitte, and all good vnto my neighbour. No­thing in this worlde as Isay, I wish to my selfe: being assured, I deserue nothing that is good of my selfe, neither desire I any thing else, but that it woulde please our Lorde to bestowe his loue on me, that thereby I may daiely encrease in vertue, and good life, and neuer offend him, but that in the last houre of my death, it will [Page 83]please him (as I hope) to shewe himselfe lo­uing and mercifull to me.

CHAPTER. 22. Of Chastitie.

DEsire taking great comfort in this confe­rence with Obedience, leauing her, vvas brought to the Cell of the last daughter of Humility, whose name was Chastity. Of whome as before desire demanded her conditions. CHAST. I am as thou knowest the daugh­ter of Humility of hart, and haue attending on me two Virgins or handmardes the one called Abstmence, the other Bashfulnes. My spouse or husband is called Watch of hart, who is alwayes attended with a body, called Watch of sences. DE. I beseech you bring mee to the sight of this Boy. CHAST. I will doe that willingly. Desire now much meruailed at the furniture of this Boy, for in his hand he held a bridle and a stone, a kerchiefe or a vaile, and a chayne with a locke, to whome hee thus spake, I desire thee my Sonne to declare to mee the true signification of this furniture of thine. BOY. This bridle is to restrayne a naughty beast of my Masters, vvhich al­though she be little, yet when shee breaketh lose shee ouerthroweth all men, neither can [Page 84]any man rule her but our Porter the Feare of God. DE. What is the name of this naugh­ty beast? BOY. The Tongue. DE. What doest thou with this stone? BOY. I stoppe holes with it, which are in this house, called the Eares, least theeues enter thereat, as often they doe, when it chaunceth that they be not stop­ped; and sometimes also, I put it in my mouth, that thereby I may enjoyne my selfe to silence. De. By that meanes, others will say thou art dumbe. BOY. I am not dumbe, but for the Loue of God, I make my selfe dumbe. DE. What seruice canst thou shewe to him there­by? BOY. Much. Considering that by this dore those two jewelles are lost, which Simpli­city spake of, I meane Innocencie and Purity of hart, and so long as I continue dumbe, I pro­vide, that the wine which our Virgins vse, runne not out, or be shedde. DE. What? Couldest thou not looke to that, if thou shoul­dest speake: BOY. No. For the spygotte cannot be pulled out, but the wine will bee shedde. DE. Might not a vessell be sette vn­der, to saue the wine that runneth out? BOY. There might, but great wisedome, vnder­standing, and fortitude, is to be vsed. And I am yet but little and young, neither can easely performe that office, and so soone, al the wine might runne out of the vessell, and nothing [Page 85]but winde remaine in it. DE. What signifieth this kerchiefe, or vaile? BOY. It is called Pu­rity, and it serueth to couer the left eye, which causeth sensuality. DE. Do you couer the right eye also? BOY. No. for that is the eye of Sim­plicity, which not only doth hurt, but also brin­geth forth all good, and fruitfull things. But the left, is the eye of Sensuality, which is of a more sharp sight, then the left, and annoyeth vs with many discōmodities: & finally, bringeth death it selfe: wherfore it is of necessity, that it be co­uered with this vaile, that thereby we may per­ceaue al things with purity. DE. Deliueer it more plainely, how we may se al things more purely and clearely. BOY. All things are seene with a pure hart: when they are beheld with one of these three eyes. Either with the eye of taking good edification for our selues, or with the eye of honoring & glorifying God, or with the eye of excusing & pitying our neighbor DE. This yet is obscure, declare your meaning more plainly. BOY. I know thou dost vnderstand me suf­ficiently. DE. Although my selfe vnderstand it, yet peraduenture others would expect to be in structed more plainly. Boy. I alowe this wil & desire to profit others, to be both vertuous, and worthy praise: considering it is a signe of no small vertue & charity, both to seeke our owne good & benefit: & also that which may be the [Page 86]good of all men. And thou hast heard manie thinges spoken in parables amongst vs, the ex­position whereof, is both profound & fruitfull: therfore when thou shalt returne hither againe, thou maist make a certaine cōmentary of such thinges as thou hast heard, and seene: whereby thou maist draw them out more at large and (as S. Greg. did vpon holy Iob) explaine them more copiously. DE. You say well, & doubt not but (God assisting me) I wil performe as much. For notwithstāding to the learned, these similitudes may serue, without farther explanation: yet to the simple sort, it will bee necessary to haue a more plaine exposition. And it will be a verie great encouragement to me, to vndertake it: if I be aduised to it by your councel. But now proceed to tel the meaning of your furniture. Why doe you carry this chaine with a locke? BOY. It is called Tēperance of the mouth, wherewith we locke the gates of this house, least the Virgins that dwell here, might wander abroade. For if we had not this chaine & this locke, ther would be no religion amongst vs, but all things would be vaine. And this know for certaine, so long as I keep my left eye couered, although my eyes be open, yet I see nothing. DE. How can that be, that your eyes being open yet you shall not see? BOY. Because my eyes are fixed in my head, and although sometime I looke downe to [Page 87]the earth: yet the reflection of my eyes retur­neth to my head.

CHAPTER. 23. The Conclusion of the first part.

DEsire hauing discoursed after this manner with Chastity, departed frō her with great contentment. And being guided out of this Monastery by the forenamed Steward, who tolde him he had now seene al the virgins of this Monastery, he asked if there were no other thing to bee seene. ST. If thou shalt well obserue what thou hast here heard, and seene, and shalt with thy best endeuour seeke to put them in execution, thou art sufficiently furnished to finde out the Loue of God. But yet before thou de­part hence, I will shew thee a tree, that groweth in our gardē. Desire beholding this goodly tree, beganne much to admire it, and the rather, be­cause it carried two sorts of fruit, and said to the Steward. DE. What kinde of fruit is this? ST. The fruit that groweth on the lower boughes, which are pale, and of diuers colours, is called Distrust of our selues. But that which groweth on the toppe of the tree, and is of a pleasant red colour, is called Trust in God, with which fruit all that come hither are to be fedde. For except they shall feede vpon this fruit their labour is in vaine, and to no ende come they hither. DE. Wil it please you to bestowe part thereof [Page 88]on me, that I may eate thereof in my journey, I am to take. STEW. I will eate thereof, of the fruit of the lower boughes which is, Distrust of thy selfe, as much as shall be necessary: and fill all thy pockets with the fruit of the higher boughes, that thou maist eate therof in thy jour­ney & this wil serue thee, vntil thou come to the house of the Loue of God. Now Desire suffi­ciently satisfied, with the fruit of the lowe boughes, filled his pockets and bosome with the fruit of the higher boughes, and said. DE. I beseech you Sister, now shew to me the spee­diest and most ready way to the house of the Loue of God. STEW. I rejoyce to se thee so furnished, and desirous to vndertake the jour­ney to finde the Loue of God. Yet not with­stāding, I feare if thou trauaile alone, thou wilt hardly finde out the readiest way, therefore wil I giue thee trusty companions of our society who shall doe, and guide thee the right way thou art to take. DE. Is not Good wil my dogge sufficient for that? STEW. No truely. For although he be very good, yet is not he suffi­cient for such a journey, wherein are encoun­tred, not only many dangerous wilde beasts, hollowe pittes, rough wayes, bushes & bryers: but theeues, spoylers, and robbers, and such as seeke to kill and destroy all passengers, where­fore it is wisdome not to trust, to thy dogge [Page 89]alone DE. For these alleaged reasons I pray you, appoint me such cōpanions as you thinke necessary. STEW. Then take in thy com­pany our Porter, the Feare of our Lord, who is a worthy and excellent man, whose company if thou wilt not forgoe, take likewise with thee his daughter Bashfulnes, whome to be sure to keepe, take an herbe with thee, called Humble casting downe of thy eyes. And yet farther take with thee an other companion, called Simplici­tie. And now Desire, goe on thy way being garded with Gods blessing. But yet marke well this one lesson, although thou chaunce to loose the Feare of God, or Simplicitie; Yet be sure to keepe warely thy dogge about thee, for he will serue to finde them againe. And see that thou giue him of the fruit in thy pocket, to eate of. And when thou art gone hence, keepe the way which leadeth on the left hand, where thou shalt finde a path, which is a nearer way, then others, which will bring the directly to the house of Charitie, wherein dwelleth the Loue of God. DE. What is the name of that path, that if I happe to misse my way, I may aske it of other. STEW. It is called Patience, which is the ready and nearest way to the house of Humilitie and Charitie. †.

CHAPTER. 1. Of Patience.

DESIRE being now well re­freshed with the aboue named fruites, and accompanied with Good will his dogge, and the Feare of God the Porter on the one side, and with Simplicity on the other side, & hauing also his pockets filled with the fruit of Confidence in God, departed chearefull out of the house of Humility & wil­lingly vndertoke the way of Patience. Which although he were told to be short & pleasant: Yet found he it rough, had and vnpleasant by reason of many brables & bushes, which made him cōplaine, & say to Simplicitie. DE. O good God how hard, and difficult a way is this, con­trary to that I thought it to be. SIMP. Let not that seeme strange, to thee Desire for there­fore is it called the way of Patience, which if it were not sharpe & full of difficulties, it should not be calloed, and knowne by that name, nei­ther should the house to which it leadeth be held in so great esteeme: if the way were playne and easie, and passible for all people. But as it [Page 91]is, none passe it but those that be throughly exercised. And hast thou not heard the old prouerbe. That no good thing can be obteyned without labour and paine; or pleasant, but first by tasting the sower? wherefore hauing now vndertaken and entred the way: thou must of necessity endure the hardnes, comforted with this, that it will not long continue. For whoso­euer will seeke to take the fish, must be con­tented to wette his foote. And coldest thou imagine, that a thing so pretious as the Loue of God, cold be obteyned without labour and payne. Remember the saying of Seneca the Philosopher. A thing of worth cannot be bought for a trifle. For with great labours wee atchiue great matters. And thou art deceaued, Desire if thou thinke to get so rich a treasure with no labour, neither wouldst thou make any great accompt, of the Loue of God, if thou coldest finde him without any trauaile. Goe to there­fore coragiously and feare not labour, con­sidering that after it, thou shalt rest and bee comforted vvith the Loue of God,, and thou wilt esteeme the greatlier of him, and loue him better; for the more payne thou endurest in finding him out: the greater will be thy joy and contentement after. And if thou fortune to be weary in the way, eate of the fruit which thou hast, called Confidence of God; and thou [Page 92]shalt finde thy selfe to be strengthned againe. But if thou wilt not feele the weariesomes of thy journey, do as trauailers do, that passe ouer the paine with singing as they goe. Desire some what cōforted with this direction of Simplicitie said. DE. How can we sing, being accompa­ned with this reuerend and graue old Father. SIMP. It is his custome to shewe himselfe graue in gesture and apparell: but otherwise he is sociable and pleasant in conuersation, for he is the brother of the Loue of God, & singeth sweetly, especially when he heareth vs sing, not for wantonnes and leuity, but to cheare vp our spirits, and comfort our selues, being weary in our journey. DE. How shall I sing that haue no voyce. SIMP. Thou canst not lacke voyce, that art a voyce thy selfe. Desire mer­uailed to heare her say, he was a voyce and ans­wered. DE. How can you say that I am a voyce? SIMP. Thou, as all other creatures wast created by Gods word, & it is plaine that a voyce doth follow a word, considering there­fore that so sone as God had spoke the word, presently all creatures were made: it followeth that all creatures are voyces. DE. Explayne this yet more plainely. SIMP. Speech and the word are but one thing. For speech is not that which is deliuered with the mouth: but which being conceaued in the minde, is retey­ned [Page 93]within. But that which is expressed with the mouth, is a voyce, declaring the speech or word, conceaued in the hart. As for example if I conceaue such a thought in my minde, that thou art a man, this is a word or speech, and al­though I vtter it not, yet I hold it within mee. But if I shall expresse it with my mouth, & say thou art a man, this is a voyce, explayning the secret conceyte of my minde. De. If I be a voyce, whose voyce am I. SIMP. Thou art the voice of God, by whome thou wast created to this prayse, honor & glory. DE. What thing then do I speake of my selfe, if I be a voyce? SIMP. Thou sayest God is good, by the goodnes of that essence, which thou hast of God, euen so by thy owne beauty, thou giuest a witnesse that he is beautifull, through whose beauty thou hast attayned to such goodnes and beauty, to conclude, whatsoeuer God hath cre­ated in thee, it is but a certayne voyce explay­ning the vertue & goodnes of him. De. How can you say that, whatsoeuer is in me created by God is a voyce: & not absolutely whatsoe­uer is in me is a voyce. SIMP. Thus, this sins and wickednes which God hath not made, are not his voyces, but thy owne, which speake and declare that thou art filthy, nought, impure, and wicked. For as by the creatures of God we are ledde and brought to the knowledge of [Page 94]him: so by those things which we do our selues, we may attaine to the knowledge of our selues.

CHAPTER 2. How God may be knowne by his creatures.

DEsire noted this discourse of Simplicity, not without great admiration, who although she seemed in shew but simple: yet found he her most wise in these high and secret misteries, and said to her. DE. To what end wold you haue vs to sing. SIMP. To the end we may forgett the difficulties, and sorrowes of this miserable ba­nishment we liue in: and loose not our hope to come to the house of Gods Charitie. Wherevn­to to attayne, we shall finde no small helpe in meditating vpon Gods creatures, which pur­posely I haue placed in this journey of Patiēce, that thou maiest the soner come to the Loue of God, if thou shalt be cōuersant in this booke of his creatures. For by Patience we conceaue a greater hope of the diuine scripture which is the whole world, which is no other thing then the booke of God. DE. Considering then that we must sing, let vs do that for which cause we are made voices, that is let vs prayse God. SIM. I am well contented, for so many voyces will joine with vs in singing. Sometime desfcāt some time the Tenor, sometime the treble wil meete vs, & in the beginning the Basse, in the middest the Tenor & descant, in the end the Treble, & all sortes of voyces, according to the multitute [Page 95]and variety of creatures, farther it is necessary (if we will doe according to the prescript of mu­sicke) that we endeuoure to bee skilfull in our song, for considering we haue voyces, we must learne & vnderstand the knowledge of singing DE. Who shal teach vs that? SIM. Our owne voyces. For some creatures shall declare his power and highnes, others his goodnes, others his wisdome, others his gētlenes, others his be­auty, others his sweetnes, others his greatnes, o­thers his iustice, & others his liberality: & to this end God hath bestowed on vs a kind of know­ledge of him selfe, according to euery mans ca­pacity and nature, that thereby we may sing & deliuer his prayse. For which cause I entreate thee, endeuour in this thy journey to become as expert in singing as thou cāst, & the rather be­cause in the house of the Loue of God, to which thou doest trauaile, there is nothing but singing whither when thou shalt come, I would haue thee sufficiētly instructed in this arte. For who­soeuer shall haue a good voyce in this jorney, & shall often exercise it, it is thereby so amended, that it cānot change. And as euery mā through daily exercise shall learne to sing in this life, so shall he bee there more excellent then others. DE. Teach me I pray you, how I must sing by Gods creatures; for of my selfe I shall not ease­ly learne it. SIMP. I will willingly do it. Now meane time Desire hauing trauailed far through [Page 96]the desert: learned and proued many vertues and excellencies of our Lord and Sauiour IE­SVS Christ and the better, by the ayde, assi­stance, and direction of his guide Simplicitie. Yet was he to passe many great, dangerous, and hard labours: ofte did he stumble, but Simplici­ty supported him, that he could not fall. Not­withstanding sometimes he fell, but presently Simplicity gaue him her hand. Sometimes he fell so dangerously, that except he had beene lifted vp againe by the helpe of the Feare of God hee neuer woulde, or coulde haue rose againe. Sometimes when he should goe forwarde, he retyred backe, and when he should haue recea­ued benefit by Gods creatures, he became much worse. For he was not sufficient careful to try out the secret vertues of voyces, neither did he greatly regard his song, but suffered him selfe to growe hoarse, vntill being pricked and put forward with the Feare of God, he laboured to goe forward. Oft times did thornes and bu­shes run into his feete, but Simplicitie held him vp, and the Feare of God plucked them out a­gaine. Sometime was he mch oppressed with sleepe, but the Feare of God awaked him a­gaine. Oft times being weary, he sate downe to rest him, but Good Will his dogge neuer left barking, vntill he arose againe. Sometime we he so weary, that through inconstancie of mind [Page 97]he determined to goe backe: but presently ea­ting of the fruite in his pocket, he recouered strength and kept on his way. Sometimes as he trauailed in the darknes of the night: hee lost both the Feare of God and Simplicity, so that he wandered out of the right way, of his journey: but so sone as the sunne beganne to shine by the help of his dogge, he found his way againe. Now after they had trauailed thus many dayes, they came to a pleasant & delightful meadow, in the middest whereof was seated a princely Palace, called the house of Charitie, the Por­ter whereof was the Loue of God.

CHAPTER. 1. Of the probation and exercise of the Loue of God.

WHen Desire had beheld this goodly Palace, he rejoyced much, that his long weary­some and painefull journey, was come at last to so joyfull an end. Wherefore comming to the gates, and finding them locked: he be­ganne to call and knocke thereat. But not with­standing [Page 98]stāding his calling & knocking, no man appea­red that would giue him an answere. Thē spake Simplicity. And told him it were requisite that he cryed lowder, for by that meanes he should be hard, although they with in were a sleepe or else deafe, & bidde him take the two hammers: that hong at the gate, & presently some would come, & open it for him. These two hammers were called, the one To sigh. The other To cry.

Therefore she bid him, knocke & cry a lowde for these dores, should not be here if they were not to be opened, & therefore are these hamers hanged at them, that such a shal knocke may be admitted in. Thus cōtinued Desire, stil crying & knocking long, before the Loue of God would o­pē the gate, neither did Desire as yet know him, To whome the Loue of God at length spake as foloweth. What seek you here brother, or what lack you to knocke & call thus? peraduenture you are weary with your long expectation. But it is our custome and manner to feigne our selfs deafe, therby to try their patiēce that come hither. And it chaunceth often, that when we so any wax weary & perswade thēselues that the gate must be opened to them, so sone as they come: we suffer them to depart euen as they came, for none are admitted to enter hither that shall thinke themselues worthily to deserue the place, & that we ought to receitie them of right [Page 99]and duety. Therefore tell me, art thou one of those? De. No Sir, I am not. For notwithstan­ding I haue passed & ouercome many labours, yet am I sure, that I haue no way deserued to be admitted in here: but altogither vnworthy, ex­cept it shall please you to receaue me vpō your owne goodnes & mercy. LOVE. &c. What is the cause thou desirest to be admitted? or what seekest thou to find here within this house. DE. I am come sir hither from the house of Humility accompaned with these graue & honest com­panions, & haue passed my jorney by the path of Patiēce Only to seeke the Loue of God, who as it is told me dwelleth here within. LOV. &c. Doest thou bring me no token whereby I may knowe that thou commest from the house of Humility. DE. I bring two tokens. The one wherof was giuen me in the house of Humility, and it is called, Knowledge of my selfe. The other haue I got my selfe in my journey, and that is called Knowledge of God. LOVE. &c. I am very well pleased to se thee so prouided, but yet tell mee this one thing, doest thou perswade thy selfe, that by reason of these two knowledges we ought of duety to receaue, and admit thee. DE. Be it farre frō me to haue such a thought. I desire to be receaued only through your grace and mercy. For I am not sure whither both these knowledges, wherwith I am instructed be [Page 100]trulie written or no. This I know for certaine, that I continued sometime in the house of Hu­mility, and there I learned and knewe the house, the Virgins, and their conditions, they them­selues telling me. But whether I haue well di­gested the fruit I eate there, or whether they a­gree well with my stomacke, although they be sweete in taste, I confesse I knowe not, Nei­ther am I sure whether I reaped any benefit by my journey. For often did I fall, the bushes and brambles oft pricked me, and in a manner I was drawne hither by force of my cōpanions. Therfore Sir, there is none of these thinges that I bring with me, that I can tell you any certaine­ty of, but mine owne malice, vilenes, sloath, and imperfectiō. And amongst other things which cause me to come hither to seeke the Loue of God, one especiall cause is, that I vnderstand he is a singular good Chirurgion, of whome I de­sire to be purged, and to be let bloud. And far­ther, men say, that with his only looke he pre­sently discouereth the imperfections and faults in the hart, and whosoeuer he toucheth he doth presently cure. LOVE. &c. Why doest thou desire to be made so pure, and sound? DE. Be­cause (as I haue learned of others) it is allowed to none to enter in hither that shal be vncleane, but to such as shall be only pure, sounde, and vndefiled. LOVE &c. Considering them, that [Page 101]thou puttest thy whole trust and confidence in vs, stay here a while. For thou canst not enter in, or speake with the Loue of God, except first thou talke with a Boy of his: tarry here there­fore, and I will call the Boy, who will direct thee what thou art to doe, and how thou maist come to the speach of his Master.

CHAPTER. 2. Of the loue of our Neighbour.

HEre Desire stayed, expecting greatly the comming of the Boy, that shoulde bring him in, to the speach of his Master: who pre­sently came forth. His name was caled the Loue of our Neighbour, whome when Desire behelde, he could not through joyrefraine from weping for the exceeding great loue hee carried to his Master. LOVE &c. What is the cause that thou weepest thus, considering in this house all are chearefull and merry, and none is heard to weepe or lament? DE. Ioy, not sorrow maketh me to weepe. LOVE. &c. Who do you seeke for here? DE. The Loue of God. LOVE. &c. I am his Boy: therefore if thou seekest my master thou must first talke & be acquainted with me. For my M. maketh so great account of me, that he wil not speake with those that loue not me. DE. I most willingly would learne and knowe thy conditions, and for the loue of thy M. be acquainted with thee. LOVE &c. If thou [Page 102]wouldest be admitted amongst the number of my friends. Thou must euery morning giue me in steed of my breakfast, a certaine sawce called Hūble thought, & an other at noone, called Hū ­ble speach, & a third at euening, caled Hūble work DE. Where shall I find out, or get these sawces? LOVE. Humility & her husband holy Purpose maketh the first, which is Humble thought, wher by she thinketh and esteemeth her selfe more vile, base, and inferiour than any other, and ac­counteth of her selfe no better then a labouring beast. This holy purpose prepareth a certaine Electuary for Humilitie, called Contēpt of our selfe, & to make this swace which we now speake of, an other hearbe is to be added, called Good opiniō of our neighbour, of which cōpoundes hūble thought is made. And in all this prouince, is not a skilful ler man to make this swace, then the forenamed husband of Humilitie, whome so soone as thou shalt get thy friend, he will instruct thee how to make this sawce. The other called Hūble speach is made, & compounded of three other hearbes, which are, Humilitie, Gentlenesse, and Affability, which must be strowed with a fine powder cal­led Slownes, and Sparing. The third which is Humble worke, is compounded of many herbes. The chiefe whereof, are Chearefulnesse, Loue, and Di­ligence. When thou shalt bring me these three sawces to eate, then shall our friendship and fa­miliarity [Page 103]be firme, and soone after will I bring thee to the speach of my M. Desire much delighted with this direction of this boy, said to him. DE. Considering you haue acquainted me with your condition & desire, I wil labour to make these sawces, & giue them to you. Thus Desire continued long in cōference with this Boy, treating & discoursing many matters with him, & be gā to be familiar with him, & deliuering to him, the fornamed sawce, at last he desired him to o­pē the gate, that thereby he might haue accesse to his M. LOVE. Thy request is reasonable, cō sidering thou doest what lyeth in thy power, stay but a little, I will goe call my M. and see if he will come forth to speake with thee.

CHAPTER 3. Of the Loue of God and our Neighbour, and of an other degree of loue, and of the of fiee and exercise thereof.

NOw Desire began to thinke thus with him selfe, whether the Loue of God would come forth to talke with him or no, cōsidering he was so vile, miserable, & wretched & altogither vn­worthy, with whome so great a Lord shoulde voutsafe to talke: and whilst he weas thus deba­ting with himselfe, he perceaued one comming towards him, who asked him, what he would, or with whom he would speake. DE. Sir I seeke to speak with the loue of God LO. I am he which so [Page 104]soone as Desire heard, he fell to the ground, ha­uing lost his strength. Then the Loue of God ta­king him by the hand, raised him from the ground which made Desire to weepe so abun­dantly for joy, that hardly could he pronounce any word. Whereat the Loue of God being tender of hart, through the compassion he had of him beganne to weepe also, noting the great loue and good will which Desire had towardes him, & sai. LOVE. &c. Cease off to weepe, for I cannot without griefe behold the teares of him that loueth me; but tell me, who told thee that I was abiding in this house? DE. A cer­taine sheepheard, that I mette on the way, who directed me to this place, where I should finde you. LOVE. &c. What did he tell thee con­cerning me? & what is the cause why thou lo­uest me so greatly, and hast so great a desire to finde me out? Is it because thou hast heard of others, that I bestowe many great giftes on my friendes, and vse to rewarde with greate bene­fittes, such as serue and obey mee? DE. No. But for this cause doe I loue you, because you are, a good, a noble, and a famous Lord. And because you bring your friendes and serauntes to the place where they may see, and beholde God: then the which, there is no greater hap­pinesse, and felicity in the world. The Loue of god hearing what Desire had said, was much plesed [Page 105]to heare his holy purpose & intēt, & began to loue him now more then before, to whome Desire said, I cannot sufficiently meruaile my Lord, that you being so mighty and potent a Lord, and the Sonne of so great a King, admit such as follow, and seeke after you, to finde you with so great labour & difficulty. LOVE. &c. Doe not so. For this is a mistery not knowne to all men. For many there be that thinke they haue not found, or knowe not me: when not withstanding, I am neare vnto them, and then themselues abounde with me. And againe there be others that perswade themselues, that they haue found and obteyned me, when notwith­standing they be farre from me, and haue not the least knowledge, and vnderstanding of me. DE. I beseech you acquainte me with your conditions, and office that I may vnderstand whither I be neare or farre of from you, for I hould and esteeme of you, as of my Lord and friends. LOVE. &c. My office and duety is to loue God, for I am called the Sonne of the Knowledge of God. DE. How do you loue God? LOVE. &c. I haue a vehement de­sire to loue him with all my hart, with all my strength, and with all my power, and with as­saying any thing, whereby I may feele him in such manner, as may please him, in referring all thinges to his honour, prayse, and glory, and [Page 106]the health and benefitte of mine owne soule. And likewise doe I wish, that the whole world may know & vnderstād, him for his exceeding great goodnesse, and that all creatures may honour him, and yeeld him daily thankes. And I enforce my selfe with my earnest desire, that neither in great or small thinges, much or lit­tle I offend or displease him, or that I doe any thing contrary to his pleasure. And if through mine owne frailety and imbecillity I chaunce to offend him: I presently craue and aske for­giuenesse of him: and by that meanes our loue is repayred againe. And although my Lord and Master be so good, so noble, and so gra­tious to me: yet am I not content with this first steppe, and degree: but yet proceede farther, and according to my power and abi­lity, endeuour to execute, nor only what hee commandeth: but whatsoeuer the meanest in this Monastery, shall commaunde mee in his name. And this accustome I my selfe to doe, with all reuerence, denotion loue, joy, humili­ty, and ready will: and that euer, in all pla­ces, and in euery good action. And hereby doe I knowe how greatly I loue him: when I doe that thing which hee commaundeth mee: For thus I perswade my selfe, that nothing in the worlde is so gratefull to him, (bee it to talke with him, doe him reuerence, or to shewe all [Page 107]seruice to him: as to doe that thing which ei­ther himselfe or someother shall command me in his name. For my Lord and Master saith thus to me. How thinkest thou that thy ser­uices can be acceptable to me, or that thou canst bee loued of mee, if thou doest not that which I shall commaund thee to doe? Or how canst thou say thou louest me? For this knowe for certaine, that in no other thing thou canst so vnite thy selfe to me, or conforme thy will so neare to mine, as if thou willingly and glad­ly execute what I commaund thee?

CHAPTER. 4. The Loue of God proceedeth in his discourse.

IN this degree of loue, I haue resolued with my selfe to performe whatsoeuer, I holde my selfe bound to, by my vocation and office. For since I first professed my selfe (of which I ne­uer repent me) I holde my selfe by vow bound to performe that, which before I might either haue done or omitted. And for that cause I vse diligently to thinke vpon my duety and office, resoluting, and determining still with my selfe, to execute and discharge, whatsoe­uer I am bound to by vertue of it, according to the direction of holy write, and learned men. Being most assured, that many offende through ignorance of that, which they are boūd [Page 108]to by duty. And if they know what they ought to doe: and yet neglect and omit it; then is their offence farre greater and more grieuous: for then they offend through malice, and not ignorance. Farther such thinges as I haue vow­ed & promissed to do (which to performe I am bound by duety) those with all my endeuours, I labour to execute. And I haue promissed and vndertaken to my Lord and Master, to keepe for euer the faith, I haue giuen to three Virgins which abide & dwell in this Monastery, which are Obedience, Chastity, & Pouerty, which three he hath giuen and assigned me as wiues, there­fore morning and euening, I consider with my selfe, how that day following I may best serue and please them. Saying to my soule. Let me se now my soule, how thou wilt endeuour with thy selfe this day to obey, and please these Vir­gins, and at night, shew me my soule how thou hast performed this day, what thou didest pro­misse to doe towards these Virgins, & whither thou hast grieued or offended any of them. Thus doe I still endeuour, to shewe my selfe a faithfull seruant to them. DE. Wherefore do you thus? LOVE. &c. Because these be the chamber-keepers of my Lord and Master, and none are admitted or can talke with him, except these Virgins procure him entrance. DE. Tell me I pray you, what spirituall ex­ercises [Page 109]haue you, whereby you serue and keepe promisse with these Virgins. LOVE. &c. Three thinges I propounde, and determine to my self, which night & day I offer vp to them, and which constrayne me to serue, and be obe­dient to them. The first is called, To aske or de­mand nothing. The second To couet or desire no­thing. The third. To thinke on nothing. This first Purpose of mine serueth Obedience if so be, it be seasoned with a sawce, called To doe, and then may you cal it to aske to do nothing. With which foode Obedience is susteyned, & by how much more abundantly and purely I offer this vp, by so much the more am I in grace, & fauour with my Lord, & the greater affection doth he car­ry to me. This selfe same foode, called To aske, if I season it with another sawce, called To haue is called, To aske or desire to haue nothing, and with that doe I feede the second Virgin, called Pouerty. DE. Stay here a while, I pray you. May I not aske to haue any thing that I want, and haue neede of? LOVE. &c. No, except the thing, you desire be most needfull. For if there be any thing necessary for thee to haue, thou hast thy Superiour, who by himselfe or his Officiall shall prouide for thee, that thou needest not aske, what thou mayest not lawful­ly aske. For he whose charge it is to looke to the whole house: will prouide necessaries for [Page 110]all as it becommeth the Superiour, to the intent they may more freely serue GOD and attend their spirituall meditations, neither shall there be neede that any aske or craue such thinges as be necessary for them. And it shall be no little fault in the Superiour to want that discretion, as not to giue thinges necessary for those vn­der his charge except they demād them. Ther­fore that which I said of asking or demanding, ought to be doubly vnderstoode; that without offending one may aske, if such thinges as shall bee necessary, bee not giuen without asking, which thing may justly be reprehended, espe­cially in Religious persons, and if it be a thing of great necessity, and not rather to satisfie our contentement. For in asking otherwise it may proceede from superfluity, curiousity or some other temptation. And assure thy selfe that vn­der a colour of necessity, many vices are often couered, especially in thinges that appertayne to the sustinance of the body as meate, drinke, cloathing, and such like. DE. How shall I know whither, that which I desire proceede of necessity or rather to satisfie my contentement. LOVE. &c. If thou maist forbeare that which thou askest, and if thou canst liue without it, and art not constrayned to suffer some great or no­table hurt in thy body or thy soule, which may hap to thee in not asking. For if thou shalt bee [Page 111]sure in not flattering thy self that in not asking, some great perill or danger may happē to thee, then not to aske is a great offence, and to aske, a merit if thou referre it to God. But if thou maist conueniently liue without that, which thou askest, and endure no great hurt or dan­ger thereby, admit thou suffer some labour or griefe in forbearing it, prouided still thou ex­ceede not the boundes of discretion; in this case not to aske, althopugh that which thou as­kest be some what needefull, it shall be a great merit to thee, & a token of thy vertue, although without offending thou maist aske as I haue said. For happy in my opinion is the man that suffereth any thing for the Loue of God. But if that which thou wilt aske be but such a thing, which without hurt of thy body or soule thou maist easely misse: thou maist thinke then, that to aske is but to satisfie thy minde and pleasure, although it be couered with a pretext of some holy purpose. For sinne doth not alwais shew, it selfe openly, but is shadowed often with a co­lour of holines. And thus maist thou knowe if thou askest any thing, whither it proceede of necessity or an vansatisfied will. And least thou be deceaued through they partiall Iudge­ment, it will be necessary for thee, to keepe a diligent watch ouer thy selfe, and to bee ex­ercised in vertue. Which if thou doest not, [Page 112]it will be good, that thou be ordered by the ad­uise of discret men, and holy Scripture.

CHAPTER. 5. Of the other two Purposes of the Loue of God, to wit To desire nothing, and To thinke on nothing.

LOVE. &c. hauing breefly explayned my first Purpose, wherewith the first two Vir­gins, Obedience & Pouerty, are as I haue said be­fore nourrished, I must shew and declare to thee the cōditions of the other two, To desire nothing, and To thinke nothing. Know therefore for most certayne that this former Purpose to aske nothing, is grounded vpon the second, To desire nothing. For it is most certaine that, To haue, proceedeth only from To desire. Then the cause takē away, which is To desire; the effect fayleth, which is To aske. And by that is effected that which is contrary to this, which is Not to aske. This is the other Purpose wherewith Chastity is nourish­ed, which is the third Virgin, whose office is, To desire no worldly or carnall thing. But because this herbe hath an other roote, from whence it springeth, which is To thinke on nothing, (for the thing cannot bee desired, which is not first thought on) I adjoyne a third Purpose, which is To thinke nothing. But in this place To thinke, must be vnderstood of that Thought, which is perseuerant & settled, with a consent & liking [Page 113]of reason and will. For to thinke nothing, doth not consist in the power of man. But it re­steth in man not to continue, or perseuer in ill thoughts: but sone to collect himselfe, and to turne to God. Now when this herbe To thinke, is watered with the water, called to See. Wee must then adde to these holy Purposes a cer­tayne powder, that is called. Strict garde of our eyes. For this is most necessary. These three Purposes, doe not only purge and make cleane my soule from all worldly affares, from al selfe-will, and from all spot and stayne: but besides (that I may with greater zeale serue my Lord God) procure me great purity of hart, & ridde me of all priuate affection and loue, and joyne, and vnite me wholly to my Lord God and Sa­uiour. And to these three Purposes I haue re­duced all my other spirituall exercises, as well those which are appertayning to Humility: as such as are agreable to al other vertues, because I knowe, perfection to consist in them. And suffer not thy selfe to bee perswaded that in vayne, I yeeld obedience to these three Vir­gins, for I finde their fauour and goodnes, great towardes me, who plentifully bestow on me all kinde of goodnes. The one of them called, Po­uerty, hath lately bestowed on me a ritch orna­ment. DE. I desire to see it, where doe you keepe it? LOVE. &c. I keepe it in two [Page 114]places, in my hart, and in my chamber. And it is so great, and of so high estimation, that I could not possibly keepe it in my hart, vntill I banished, and vtterly excluded thence, all worldly loue, affection, and desire: neyther could it possibly be conteyned in my chamber vntill I had cast thence all superfluous thinges, reseruing only the Crucifix, and some few other bookes. DE. What is the name of this orna­ment? It is called Nothing at all, and it is the es­peciall and chiefest treasure of Pouerty who is the richest Lady of all the world, and who pos­sesseth so much treasure, as here selfe doth desire.

CHAPTER. 6. Of the office of the Loue of God, and of prayer in the same degree.

IN this foresaid office of Loue, which is to doe that which my Lord and Master com­maundeth, and my duety bindeth me to I must vse a certaine condition or circumstance, which is, that if at any time according to my office and place I am set in (as being attendant in his chamber) I come vnto him, either to doe him seruice, or to craue something of him, or else to to speake to him; I endeuour to shew and pre­sent my selfe, with as great purity and humili­ty of hart, as I can. For by how much clea­ner in hart I present my selfe to him, by so much more clearnesse I see and beholde him. [Page 115]And I accustome to craue the fellowshippe of my Brother the Feare of God, that he with an Aunte of mine called Reuerence, woulde goe also with me. De. What is the reason you take Reuerence with you? LOVE. &c. I weigh and consider with my selfe who I am, and who my Lord and Master is. I think vpon his most sacred Majesty, who of right, and desart, ought to be reuerenced, and feared as one most wor­thy of all honour, and loue. Father, I vse to contemplate how al the blessed soules fall pro­strate before him, adore him, and praise him, and that by admiring, and praysing his so great and excellent goodnes and Majesty, they be rauished, and in a sort transformed into God himselfe. Yet farther, I am wont to consider, how my hart, thought, wil, & purpose, or intent is laide open before him, and how he seeth, and knoweth my secrets, better then my selfe. Also how according to the pleasure of his diuine holy will, he is able to doe, alter, establish, and a­bolish all things: and how life and death, being and not being, the saluation, or damnation of the whole world, is in his hands. I farther me­ditate with my selfe, how he is wholy and all good: & the chiefest, highest, & purest goodnes it self, which contēplating rightly, I oft tremble in hart, feare, & almost faint: especially behol­ding my self, so wicked, so vile, so abhominable [Page 116]and so filthy a sinner, to presume, to speake to a Lord of so great Majestie, & that he will ad­mit me to come to him, speake with him, and eate with him, as though I were vnited in great friendshippe with him. Often doe I vse this or like speech to him. What neede hast thou, O my Lord and Master that such sinners as my selfe, should present themselues before thee? Is it seemely, O my Lord, that such vnworthy persons should presume to serue or attend on thee? where is the honor and reuerence, that is due to thy Princely Majesty. DE. What ans­were do you receaue againe from him? LOV. I cannot certaynely tell thee, sauing that he makes me weepe for joy, and sayeth. Care not thou much for that, let not this thing trouble thee, consdering thou hast not of thy selfe pro­cured this place, nor intruded into it, but art called to it, and chosen by mee. My selfe best knoweth why I haue placed thee in it. Let thy only care be, diligently to discharge thy office, and with thy vttermost power to performe, what thy duety bindeth thee to, in the place thou art appointed, and then take thou care for no other matter. DE. What say you to him, when you come before him, accompanied with your associates Humility, Feare, and Reuerence? LOVE. &c. First I dispatch those prayers, and diuine seruice which this order of life, my [Page 117]vowe, and profession binde me to, and that not sadly or vnwillingly, or only for necessity: but with as great attention, deuotion, diligence, willingnes, chearefulnes, & reuerence as I can. And although I be bounde of necessity to such prayers. Yet chaunge I may necessity into a re­dy will; and most joyfully performe what I am bound to doe. Then, that I may craue some­thing of him, and may moue him to graunt it me; I endeuour with all my power to prayse and laude him, and cease not to honour him, assuring my selfe that, that is acceptable to him. And in praysing him, I desire his miraculous workes which he hath done, pleasing and de­lighting my selfe in remembring them, and exercise my selfe in telling his mighty power, high wisdome and exceeding goodnes. And farther I rehearce the great grace & large bounties, which he bestoweth on his souldiers and seruants, honouring exalting him for the same. Neither passe I in silence his exceeding great mercy, which he euer hath and still doth shew towardes his enemies, and am much a­mased at his gentlenesse and clemencie. That not only he doth not reuenge himself on them: but besides bestoweth great rewardes vppon them. Besides I render great thankes to him for the great goodnes, which is in himselfe, and re­cyte and number his vertues, and renowne his [Page 118]beauty, wisdome & exceeding goodnes, pray­sing him for them, and rejoycing, and trium­phing that he is so exceeding great and good. And this doe I often, knowing sufficiently his will herein, and not doubting, but that it is ac­ceptable to him, and that it is his pleasure that man should be conuersant with himselfe, that is with God, and conferre with him of pleasant, joyfull and secret misteries: whereof they are ignorant, that be carelesse thereof, and will not enter into his secret chamber with him, al­though they be in his house, and attend vpon him. DE. Wherefore doe you prayse him with all these high titles? LOVE. &c. Be­cause the more I extoll, commend, and prayse him, the more I displease, despise, and set at nought my selfe: which how acceptable it is to him, cannot be declared with tongue. And this is his will & pleasure, that we continually haue set before our eyes his goodnes, his excellency, and his infinite greatnes: and our owne malice, our basenes, and exceeding misery. And far­ther I am certayne that I cannot be deceaued, although I prayse and honour him all that is in my power: for he is farre more noble, more excellent, more potent, and greater, then either I or all creatures togither, both Angelicall and humaine can comprehend with thought.

CHAPTER. 7. Of the office of the Loue of God, in an other degree, and a contmuation of that, which he beganne to declare, of the manner of praying.

LOVE. &c. After that I haue endeuou­red to prayse, and exalt him with the vtter­most of my power, I offer vp to him my whole minde and will, with a chiefe Purpose that I haue, that for no worldly thing I would offend or displease him: and also most earnestly I en­treate him, that it may please him to keepe and preserue me in this will and minde, considering that without him, I am no way able to doe it. Then aske I forgiuenes of him, for all the of­fences and iniuries I haue done vnto him, and beseech him that he will permit me to thinke vpon, vnderstand, or loue nothing but himself. And yet farther I desire of him, that conside­ring he hath voutsafed to admit me for his ser­uant and friend, & that into a place of so high a function: that it will please him to bestowe on mee the holy spirit of Humility: which may withdrawe and turne away my minde, from all things displeasing, and hatefull to him, that my seruice be not hatefull but acceptable to him. Also I craue of him that he will bestow on me such things as he knoweth, I stand in neede of, whither they bee such thinges as are necessary for me, or such as for his honour and pleasure, [Page 120]he will haue me endued with: and that, for no other cause, but that he would suffer me to liue and die in him, and not cast me from his sight according to my desert. After this I pray for all those that I loue most, and to whome either spiritually or corporally I hold my selfe bound for all this society, and for all liuing creatures, that it will please him to bestowe his grace and mercy on them; that according to their due­ties, they may knowe him, loue him, honour, prayse, and worshippe him. All this doe I labour to present to him, with sincerity and pu­rity of hart. DE. How doest thou present thy selfe before him with this purity of heart? LoVE. &c. As neare as I can, I keepe a watch ouer my hart and minde, and take a care to my soule, restrayning as much as I may all my senses, and continually setting before my selfe playne simplicity, which doth inter­pret to the best whatsoeuer I behold. And if I would bee free and secure from all feare: then doe I remayne and abide with my Lord and Master, with whome to be present, and to talke and conferre, and whose counsaill and aduice to demand, is my chiefe good and joy, my only will and comfort. Neither can I enjoy peace, quiet, or security, or finde anie manner of contentement, or ease, but only when I am present in his company. And for this cause [Page 121]haue I determined with my selfe, to forsake all worldly pleasures, and to dwell with him, and cleaue to him, neuer to depart from him except hee shall command mee. DE. Yet I thinke it very necessary sometimes to be bu­sied in reading good bookes. LOVE. &c. True it is, it is good to spend some time in rea­ding, but not with a minde to become learned and skilfull, but that thereby thou maist finde out GOD and his wayes, and once hauing found him, maist knowe and loue him. For this I shall not neede many bookes. This one thing I looke after, will, and desire, that I may settle and fix my whole loue on GOD, and may joyne all my affection, reason, and vnder­standing to him. For his loue alone is suffici­ent for me, he will teach me all thinges that shall be conuenient for me to knowe, and can open and discouer more secrets and misteries to mee, how I shall loue and not offend him, then all the books that the whole world doth possessed. And I obtayne greater purity of soule, feare, deuotion, reuerence, compun­ction, fortitude and strength, and seuerity a­gainst the flesh, by being in his presence, then by reading continually. Besides I know for certayne, hee neuer will aske account how much I haue reade: but how much I haue lo­ued amd esteemed him. Neither would I al­togither [Page 122]exclude or banish reading, especially for such as are yet simple and ignorant, and knowe not howe to iudge of their thoughts, wordes, and workes. For to such it is requisite to spend much time in reading, & to learne the exercises of the spirit & minde. For as it would be thought great follie, rashnes, and disgrace to a Prince, if a rude country fellow not accu­stomed to speake to a King, should presume in the presence of all his nobility to come, and bouldly speake his minde, and if in speaking he should vse his accustomed, rusticall and vnde­cent termes, it could not but be thought so great a disgrace to the Prince, that he iustly might commād him to be thrust out from his presence and farre better had it beene, he had neuer pre­sumed thither, euen so standeth the case in spi­rituall cases. But to those that by reading, and hearing, haue alredy attayned to the knowledg of God, and diuine exercises, to such, the exer­cise of praying is more necessary then reading, as being alredy expert how to behaue them­selues in the spirituall Court. Farther when I present my selfe, before my Lord and Master. I am very carefull, that inconstantly I turne not my head or eyes, hither or thither. For it would be taken a great dishonour to him, to looke an other way, whilest on should talke with him. DE. Tell me your meaning more [Page 123]plainely for as yet I vnderstand not. LOVE. When I speake to my Master, if at such time I busie my thoughts, and reason vpon anie thing but only vpon him I speake to: then turne I my backe not my face to him. For this cause when I perswade my selfe, that I am present before him in sight, and that he doth behold me, and neuer turneth his eyes from me, but marketh what I say: I vse all reuerence, deuotion, loue and attention to him that I can. Then doe I prayse and thanke him for all his benefits be­stowed on mee, and all other his creatures, calling them often to my minde, and rehear­sing them, being most certayne that he woul not haue me in-grate and vnmindefull of his giftes.

CHAPTER. 8. Of the third degree of Loue.

LOVE. &c. Now although I haue shew­ed the first degree, or steppe, of my loue, which is to loue my Lord and Master, and ne­uer to offend him: and also the second, which is to performe and put in practise all his com­mandements: yet doe I not content my selfe herewith, in regarde my loue is so great to him, but that I adde yet a third degree, or steppe to his loue, which is to doe all those thinges [Page 124]that I knowe are pleasing to him, or whatsoe­uer I can imagine he would I should doe. DE. How knowe you, that you doe those thinges that please him? LOVE. &c. There be two thinges whereby I may knowe that easely: which are, if I loue that which he loueth, and likewise hate, what is hatefull to him. Con­cerning the first, which is, to loue what he lo­ueth: I loue his Sonne, the most beautifull, sweete, and noble, of all that euer were, and most like his Father, and so obedient to him, as neuer was, or shall be Sonne more obedi­ent to a Father. Whome the Father loueth e­uen as himselfe, because he is more like to him, then euer Sonne vvas to a Father. And so greate is the loue and vnion which is be­tweene them, that they two be but one; of one will, like power, and the selfe same knowe­ledge. Who although they be distinct in per­sons, yet are they both one in essence. For this Sonne, the Father hath made a garment with the handes of his goodnes, like to that which Sheepheardes doe weare, which the Sonne hauing put on, departed out of the priuy Chamber of his princely Father, and yet for e­uer remayneth with him. And thus he liueth here in this Monastery, and conuerseth with vs. For otherwise we could not behold him. Moreouer when his Father would send him [Page 125]ouer all the world, cladde with this garment, & a little traueling scrippe: he entred also into this desert, to seeke out his sheepe that were wandered and strayed. And as hee trauailed through this desert, the Father permitted that he should be killed of wolues, and deuoured of dogs, and would giue him no helpe although he could: but would haue him endure a most cruell death by these wolues, more painefull to him, then euer any sffered, being his flesh most tender, in that he weas the Son of a King. All this did our Lord of his exceeding loue to­wardes vs, that all we that dwell and abide in his house, might know, and trie his charity, and thereby might loue him againe, considering that first he loued vs so greatly, that he spared not his one only Son, but deliuered him to die for the loue he bare to vs al. Whilest the Loue of God. was relating this discourse, Desire being wholy wounded to the hart could not refraine from vehement weeping. But the Loue of God going on with his discourse, said farther. And although God the Father hath suffered his Son to be killed, yet notwithstanding he loueth him so exceedingly, that by his great omnipotency, he soone raysed him from death, much more beautifull, and gloriously triumphing, bring­ing with him, the sheep which he came to seeke others being left in this wildernesse, that they [Page 126]might be fedde and become fat with the know­ledge of him, he hauing a perpetual and watch­full care ouer them. So at length returning a­gaine to his Princely Father, he sitteth nowe on his right hand, speaking and making inter­cession for vs al, being ouercome with to great a loue towardes vs. For I am of this opinion, that except we were spared for his sake, long since had we beene driuen cleane out of this Monasterie: so wicked and miserable we are, and so negligently, and sloathfully wee serue him, wholy forgette him and contemne him, and so little care and remembrance we haue of him. But the Omnipotēt father loueth this Son so greatly; that in my opinion nothing can be more acceptable to him in this world, then that we should loue this, his Sonne with him. For which cause I endeuour & labour to loue him, & to do those thinges which I thinke pleasing to him. DE. What is it, that you can doe ac­ceptable to him? LOVE. &c In remembring and speaking of his most holy life, his paines & laboures, his most bitter death and Passion, & his holy commandements, and as neare as I can conformity my self according to his manners. For who soeuer my Lord & Master seeth most carefully to imitate the life of his Son, him doth he most loue, and holde deare to him. And for this cause, was it his holy will and pleasure, that [Page 127]he should come & liue here amongst vs, that by that meanes he might teach vs how we should liue, who before liued no better then bruite beasts. Therefore hath our ord set him before our eyes, as a mirrour, or looking glasse, that e­uery one may knowe, whether he doe, or omit what his pleasure is, and may see and behold in the life of his Sonne, as in a glasse, whether his works be good or badde. Neither is there any thing in all the world, by which we may more trulie come to the knowledge thereof. And yet besides this, there is one thing more, which my Lord and M. loueth, that is my Boy, called the loue of our Neighbour, whome he esteemeth so much, and holdeth so deare, that whatsoeuer we doe to him, be it good or bad, he taketh as if it were done to himselfe. DE. How doe you loue this Boy? LOVE. &c. Euen as my selfe. And first I perswade my selfe that he is better then I am, and although I execute a higher place, yet in all thinges that are agree­able to vertue, I obey him. I farther am care­full that by no meanes I afflict him, or giue him occasion of sorrowe, but shewe all loue and kindnesse to him that I can. I neuer haue sinister conceite of him, but rather excuse him all that I may. I neuer call him by anie name of disgrace. I most willingly dissemble, and hide his naturall defectes and imperfections. [Page 128]In distreste and aduersitie, I lament and bewaile him. In his absence I detract him not, neither suffer others to doe if I may hinder it. I wish and desire, that my Lord and Master be better beloued of him, then of my selfe: and that it would please God to make him as good, or better then I my selfe am. I enuie him nothing either for corporall or spirituall giftes bestow­ed on him by God, or for any thing which he enjoyeth in this world, but rejoyce in his pro­sperity, and lament in his aduersity. Farther, I thinke him to be the Angell of God; and my selfe to be vnworthy to be his seruant. This doe I, for that I knowe him to be beloued of my Master. Also I loue those thinges vvhich appertaine to our societie, towardes which, I carry a very great zeale, in regarde that they appertaine to the worshippe, & honour of my Lord and Master, and to the preseruation and maintenance of this his house. Wherefore I am very carefull, that nothing be lost, or mis­layed, especially of those thinges which belong to the seruice of Religion, Ceremonies, and the holy Canons of the Church. Which thinges although many doe not greatly esteeme, yet I am fully perswaded, that the holy Ghost would neuer haue instituted them, except hee had knowne them to be pleasing to God. There­fore I holde the smallest Ceremonies, to be ob­serued [Page 129]imagining they tend to the honour of God, and most readely and willingly, with all humility, & reuerence doe I keepe them. And this thought doe I still carry in my minde, if I should not honour my Lord and Master, wor­shippe him carefully, serue him dutifully, and shewe my selfe most zealous in his seruice, who should doe it? considering I am beholding to him, more then all other creatures. For if the seruants and attendants of great Princes and States serue and obey their Masters, so care­fully, diligently, and with so great a desire; why should not I serue and honour my Master and Lord, that admitteth me to the familiarity of his chamber. Therefore if the whole world should fall, and decline from his obedience, and not one should perseuer to shewe him reuerence: yet woulde I remayne faithfull, euen vntill my last moment of life.

CHAPTER. 9. Of those things which the Loue of God hateth, and a conclusion of his dutie and office.

THe other thing of the two, which I spake of before, wherewith I please and con­tent my Lord & Master, is, to hate such things as I knowe he hateth. And two especiall ene­mies I knowe my Master hath, which are The world, and My flesh. Wherefore I haue resol­ued with my selfe, to hate them all, that I can, [Page 130]& to haue neither friendship or peace with thē which determinatiō to performe, I purpose an other thing, which is, to take no delight or re­creation with thē, neuer to talke or conuerse familiarly with thē, except it be by the cōmande­ment of my M. which cōmandement is of more weight, thē any Purpose I can vndertake. Ther­fore haue I besought the Superior of this Mo­nastery, that he neuer send me abrod, into twon or contry for my recreatiō, or disport, which is a thing different frō my disposition, & which I hate: yet when he cōmandeth it, I must needs o­bey him. And although for some causes my M. command me somtimes to goe abroad into the world, yet will he that I returne with all the speed that I can make, for feare lest I be caught and deceaued with the deceites thereof: being assured, that how warely soeuer men conuerse therein, yet more hurt than good commeth euer thereby. Likewise do I detest & hate my owne faultes and vncleanes, my il motions & desires, my sodaine passions & promise to sin, not ignorant how hatefull they be to my Lord and M. And therfore for the loue of him, I continually labor to amend my selfe. Besides I sequester my selfe from all that dwell in this Monastery (for his loue) except when charity & necessitie re­quire the cōtrary. Neither doe I it for that cause that I contemne them, or thinke them vnwor­thy [Page 131]of my company & fellowship (for as I said before, I esteeme them as Saints and Angelles) but rather because I thinke my selfe vnworthy of their presence and conuersation, or meete to kisse the ground that they treade on. DE. Why do you so? LO. Because in these times Religiō is much decayed, by reason of to much familia­rity, and conuersing of such as profes monasti­cal liues, not only amongst themselues, but also amongst secular persons. Whereby it chanceth that so little prayer, deuotion and meditation is vsed. For in these daies some Monasteries are become like Princes Palaces, and only in name & habit they shew themselues religious: when they treate of, and handle naught, but worldy causes: & holines & religion is so rare amongst some of thē, that they neuer frequent their deuotions, but when they meet in their Oratories, out of which they talke of nothing, but worldy businesses, and newes, being alwaies so distracted, that they know not how to collect their minds to serue God: and when they are called against their wils to their Oratories, to sing their seruice they feare they shall not soone enough depart frō thence againe: & thus they sing their seruice being full of high misteries, with litle reuerence or no deuotiō at al, hauing their minds & desire on the end, & in the kitchen. And beause they vnderstād litle of God, or what appertayneth [Page 132]to him: God likewise regardeth them not, but hateth them. Therefore haue I determined to inure my selfe to a custome, and to endeuour to be alwaies solitary, and attend my deuotions that so my minde may take delight in God, and those thinges that appertaine to him, and that I may learne to loue him, as in truth it is most re­quisite, considering that for that cause I haue forsaken the world, & withdrawne my self hi­ther. DE. Some will say thou art singular, & wil note thee for it. LOVE. I regard not that, for I ought not desire to please men: especially whē it shall displease and offend God. And so long as I am not scandalous to others, let them think or speake their pleasures of me. That which I doe, is but my office, and dutie, if therfore thou seeke me, doe thou as I haue done.

CHAPTER. 10. The Loue of God brought defire into the house.

IN this meane time Desire was much amazed, and bethought himselfe of those thinges which he had heard of the Loue of God, and said to him. DE. When you haue done all these thinges, is there cause that you shoulde be in feare of any thing? LOVE. &c. Yea trulie. I must with great care and studie ende­uour, that by doing well I fall not into vaine­glory, and selfe liking. For if so I should yeeld to them, presently my Master would expel me [Page 133]this Monastery. Therefore haue I alwaies Hu­mility my Mother by my side. DE. Carry me I beseech you into the house. LOVE. Followe me, for thou hast had conference enough with me. I will bring thee vnto an other fellowe of mine, whose office is higher, and more worthy then mine. DE. What is his name? LOVE. He is called Desire of God. Now Desire vvent with a chearefull minde, accompanied with the Loue of God, to seeke Desire of God, and hauing founde him, he asked of him if he were Desire of God. DESIRE OF GOD. I am hee thou seekest, what wouldest thou with me DE. I would intreat to be admitted to your seruice. Here Desire of God was delighted with the rea­die will of Desire, and said to him. DESIRE OF GOD. If thou desire to liue with me, thou must be wel instructed by my brother the Loue of God. For Desire of God is made of the wine that runneth out of that vessell of the Loue of God. See therefore thou be first well instructed by the loue of God, least otherwise thou deceaue thy selfe. DE. I haue conuersed sometime with the Loue of God, who hath instructed me of all things that are necessary for me to doe. Which I hope through Gods helpe, to be able to exe­cute. But I cannot assure you, making no doubt whether I am endued with the Loue of God or no, considering it is a thing known only to him [Page 134]selfe, who loue, or doe not loue him. Therefore herein I humble my selfe to his wisdome. Nei­ther can I assure you, I haue any thing of my selfe, one thing excepted which is Good will my dogge, whome neither, I dare presume to cha­lenge as my owne, considering I haue him by the gifte of another. These wordes of Desire, pleased Desire of God, the rather considering, he perceaued that Desire durst not attribute to him self his loue of God. DE. Now Sir, let me craue to knowe your conditions & office. DESIRE. Euen as a man through true knowledge of him selfe, attayneth to great contempt, and hatred of himselfe, & as through true knowledge of God a man likewise cōmeth to perfect loue of God. So by much louing of God, a man is brought to the greater desire of God. And whosoeuer he be that getteth me: he desireth nothing els that this world can yeeld. For with such vertue and worthines doe I adorne his minde: that he thin­keth himselfe vnmeete, to desire any thing, be­sides that most excellent, most rare, & most to be desired good. Which is only our lord Ie­sus Christ. I say, I make him the most excellent of the world. For although he be borne but of meane parentage: yet do I make him a mighty King. For whosoeuer is trulie endued with me, he thinketh on nothing but only on God: he speaketh nothing but only on God: because that whersoeuer his treasure is, there he setteth [Page 135]his hart. And whatsoeuer the hart profoundly thinketh, that especially the mouth vttereth. And those thinges which are deliuered by the consent of the mouth, apparantly declare the thought of the hart. I am the foode and repast of that minde, which liueth, and is nourisned by good desire: in this house of Charitie, I am of highest dignity, and keepe the dore of the secret chamber of the foresaid Charity, and haue authority to admit such friendes as I allowe of. Here vse I the office of a Cryer, or a Trumpet­ter, and walking about this Monastery, make certaine cries and soundes, vntill such time as I awake and stirre vp my Master, and cause him to come forth to speake with such as seek him. Who does thou thinke awaked me euen now, when thou stoodest calling so long at the gate, & knockedst with the hammers of teares, and sighes? truly the barking of thy dog. I am the truest messenger of Charitie & come first to the gate, speake first to my Mam nearest to him, & am soonest heard of him. Farther, it is in me to distribute the fruit of a most rare tree, which we haue, called the sight of God &, I do giue it to o­thers to eate. DE. Is this fruit plesant in tast. For in the house of Humilitie an other fruit was gi­uen me, most bitter to eate, especially at the first it coulde hardly be swallowed. DESIRE. OF GOD. This fruit is most sweete, yet far [Page 136]sweeter in the tast of some men, then of others, according as men are more desirous and hun­gry after it, & as they haue their tast & mouthes most perfect. Some there be whose teeth are but dul or blunt: with whome this fruit agreeth not, because they cannot hold it. Other some eate it without hunger or appetite: hauing their stomakes ful & ouercharged with other meates; to these men likewise it tasteth not pleasantly, neither is it lightly disgested of them, yet neuer thelesse it doth not hurt them. Some others there be, which by reason of some ague or some immoderate heate haue not their tast so good as others, and these cannot judge the goodnes of this fruit, but only according as they shall heare by others. DE. I beseech you, giue me leaue to tast a little of this fruit. DESIRE OF GOD. It pleaseth me that thou sayest to tast a little thereof: for in this mortall life no man may eate thereof his fill: only he may tas and trie how sweete it is. DE. Why so? DESIRE OF GOD. If any man might enjoy it here to the full of his desire, he would neuer desire to depart from this world, and to goe to heauen. Know therefore that liuing here in this value of misery, almost dead through hunger, and de­priued of strength, by reason of long penury: we ought longly to watch and desire that day, wherein we may enter, into that great supper [Page 137]of our King and Master, desiring and thirsting after him in no other manner, then doth the hart thirst for the cleare fountaine in the hotest Sōmer. And such is the vertue and force of this fruit, that one little morsell be it neuer so small doth satiate a mans stomacke, bee hee neuer so great an eater. But being once come to the presence of this King and Master, hee will make our stomacke better and stronger, that wee shall bee able to eate of this fruit, so much as we will, and neuer receaue hurt or preiudice by it. But here if any one eate more of it, then his stomacke can beare: he shall rather receaue hurt then good thereby. Therefore must we moderately eate of this fruit, vntill we arriue at that place of happines, where for euer we shall be filled all measure, with that same fruit which here we doe but only taste.

CHAPTER 11. How Desire of God prepared, Desire to eate of this fruit.

DE. Now then Sir, I beseech you bestowe vpon me to eate so much of this fruit, as your selfe shall thinke good. DESIRE OF GOD. First then considering, this fruit is not conteyned, but in a most cleane vessell: it be­hooueth that thou clense and make cleane thy teeth, and that thou wash thy mouth, thy eyes, thy face, thyhandes and feete. DE. Where [Page 138]may I finde water, wherwith to do it? DESIRE OF GOD. I will bring thee to a liuing foun­tayne, that continually runneth both night and day, called Holie Religion, also I will assemble the Virgins of this Monastery, who shall as­sist to wash and purifie thee. This much con­tented Desire, and gladly did he expect the comming of these Virgins, when behould he sawe Desire of GOD, come and bring them with him, saying, these be the Virgins that shall wash thee. The first is called Sweetnes. The second Concord. The third Pitty or Compassion. The fourth Grace. The fift Clemencie. The sixt Indulgence. The seuenth Mercy. The eight Beneuolence. The ninth Gentlenes. The tenth Sufferance. The eleuenth Tranquility. The twelfe Securitie. The thirtenth Ior. The four­tenth Discretion or Moderation. The fiftenth Deuotion. Who will giue thee a certayne sawce, that shall procure thee an appetite, whereby more willingly & pleasingly thou shalt eat this fruit. For it is only giuen to such a hunger after it, but others are sent away empty without it. The sixtenth Virgin is Religion. The seuen­tenth is Perseuerance. The eightenth is Prayer. The nintenth is Honestie, and my selfe Desire of God, am the last, who am euer present at this holy Monastery of Virgins. And if thou wilt likewise associate thy selfe with them, it will [Page 139]prepare thee not a little to eate this fruit, which so sone as thou hast eaten, thou shalt euer after haue these Virgins thy companions, who ne­uer will forsake thee, except thou first aban­don them. For they be very greedy to eate of this meate, and so sone as they espie this fruit. They flie to it, as bees will doe to honny, and we cannot better knowe when a man hath this fruit, then if we see these Virgins flocking ab­out his gates. Now Desire being washed and well recreated with eating this fruit, was won­derfully comforted, to whome Desire of God said, considering Brother that thou hast eaten of this fruit, it is nowe expedient that thou doe sing also. For the seruants of GOD, after they haue eate their meate vse to sing, giuing thankes and prayse to GOD, and none a­bideth in this house, that is not expert in sing­ing. DE. After what manner shall I sing? DESIRE OF GOD. Wee will goe to the quyer where all the singers abide. The firs is called, Benediction or Blessing. The se­cond Honour. The third Praysing. The fourth Thankesgiuing, amongst these must thou sing, who are excellent Musitions, and haue singu­ler sweete voyces. DE. What part must I sing? DESIRE OF GOD. The first as I haue said is called Beneduction, he singeth the treble and prayseth God for his high omnipotency. [Page 140]The second Honur, he singeth the Conterte­nor, & prayseth God for his infinite wisedome. The third Praysing, he singeth the Tenor, and extolleth the wonderfull goodnes of God, and all his vertues, his noblenes, and excellency, & all that is in him. The fourth Thankesgiuing, he singeth the Basse and giueth thankes to GOD for all his creatures, & for al the benefits which he hath bestowed on them.

CHAPTER. 12. How Desire learned to sing.

DEsire was now much delighted, both with the manner of singing, and also with the song, to whom Desire of God said, now be think the selfe whither thou wilt returne from hence or no. DE. Whither can I goe, that I may better my selfe, especially, considering I am come hither with so great labour & difficulty. For findingmy selfe to be well entertayned here, and to liue in peace, and all contentement by no meanes will I depart from hence, for the old Prouerbe sayeth, he that is well let him not chaunge his place, therefore Sir, I cannot be perswaded to depart, except you will by vio­lence expell expell me. DESIRE OF GOD. It is not our custome to expell any against their willes, rather doe we entreate such as enter in, hither, that they will maketheir abodes here a­mongst vs. Yet that they may knowe, that wee [Page 141]admit none for our owne necessity: sometimes we aske of them whither they will depart. But seing thou hast determined to continue here, thou must not liue and be idle here. For no idle body dwelleth here, or that doth not spend his time in good exercises. DE. What must I doe? DESIRE OF GOD. Whatsoeuer is com­manded to thee. DE. If I am commanded no­thing, shall I be idie? DESIRE OF GOD. Thou shalt sing, and giue thankes, and prayse to God, for thou art admitted hither especially to sing. And whilest thou art in doing, that which thou art commaded, thou maiest sing to thy self lest tho be trobled with idle thoughts. But if thou desire to profit much, and greatly to please our Lord and Master, and to insinuate thy selfe into his friendshippe, as much as thou canst, (if nothing else be commanded to thee,) conuerse and conferre with him alone. Then shalt thou heare what he will speake in thee, & thou shalt learnemany secretes that he will re­ueale to thee, andthou shalt become his most inwarde frend. DE. May any enter into his chamber, and speake with him? DESIRE OF GOD. Yea truely, so that he be accom­panied with Humility. And farther I assure thee he taketh especiall delight, when any will come to him and seeke to awake him. For it is his na­ture not to desire to be alone, and be a man ne­uer [Page 142]so meane or base, yet doth he delight to haue him desire his presence. And so great is his dignity & worthines that he regardeth not his person, or maketh any diference of their birthes that sue to him, regarding only the hu­mility of their mindes. One man is as deare to him as an other, and he created them all of one and the same matter. Yea more, the more base and vile the person is, so that he debase and de­ject himselfe; the greater doth he declare his loue towardes him. And to say truth those which dwell in this Monastery amongst vs, the greatest part of them (some fewe excepted) are borne but of meane & base parentage. For such as the world contemneth as abjects, those doth God choose for his faithfullest seruantes, that none of this society should flatter themselues: that they deserued of themselues to be admitted hither, and not through the speciall grace and goodnes of God. If therefore thou desire to continue amongst vs, and to sing amongst our other signers, and desire farther that thy sing­ing may be pleasing, and acceptable to God, thou must labour to obserue these foure things. The first is A good will. The second Humility. The third Patience. The fourth Charity. Which if thou doest, thou shalt neuer erre in singing. And although sometimes thou chance to neg­lect some part, yet by diligēt obseruation, thou [Page 143]shalt easely come into measure againe. With the first measure or tune, which is A good will, thou shalt sing the plaine song, which is (as it were) he ground & fondation of the others. With the second and third, I meane Humility & Patience, thou shalt sing the Contertenor, for Humility & Patience, are contrary to selfe will. With the fourth, which is Charity, thou shalt explayne, and declare the sound and tune, of the Organs, and that with exceeding sweetnes & harmony of thy soule & spirit. And if it fortune that thou be out of tune presently, haue recourse to the first note or measure. Also if thou chaunce to sing contrary to thy fellowes, obserue him that directeth thee, who will bring thee sone into tune againe, through his helpe and assistance, and with the loue of our Lord & Master. And in all thy singing obserue this one thing dili­gently, that thou forget not to eate the fruit, which thou didest gather, in the house of Hu­mility, I meane Distrust of thy selfe, for the more thou attaynest to the Loue and Desire of God, the better thou shalt knowe him, and sweeter shalt thou finde him. To conclude the more thou shalt offer of this fruit to my Lord and Master, the greater shalt thou finde his loue and friendshippe towardes thee, for willingly doth he eate of it, and most pleasing is it to him.

CHAPTER. 13. How Desire of God, brought Desire into the chamber of his Lord and Master, and of the mannerof Praying.

DE. One thing there remayneth yet which I would enteate of you, that now consi­dering. You haue graunted me, to be a seruant of this house, you will farther bring me, to the knowledge of my Master, that I may se him & kisse his hand. DESIRE OF GOD. Follow me in & I will graunt thy desire. Now beganne Desie to feare and to tremble, thinking that he must speake with a King of so great Majesty in his priuy chamber, and so great was his feae and his astoynishment, that neither could he or durst he presume to come neare him, but nowe beganne to thinketo goe back againe. But ad­uising better with himselfe, and thinking that he was a sweete, a noble, and an affable King, and curteous, and gentle to all men, he tooke hart againe trusting wholy to he gentlenes of him. Hee Desire of God bidde him stay at the dore, vntill he went in to his Master, and told him how Desire desired to speake with him. And now againe beganne Desire to be doubt­full, how, and in what manner he should speake to his Lord and Master. When Desire of God comming to him tould him, he had acuained his Master with his beingthere, and therefore [Page 145]badde him goe in, and he would stay for him there. Now Desire beganne with exceeding great reuerence to enter the house, and goe into the haule, who so sone as he espied his Lord & Master, he fell prostrate on the ground, and beganne to weepe, not presuming to lift vp either his head or eyes. For he had not forgot, what an enemy he had beene sometime to his Master, with how many wronges and iniuries he had offended him, how ill and vnreuerently he had sometimes spoken of him, with the re­mēbrance hereof, he was not able to speake, but stode weeping and sighing, seing himselfe pre­sent before the Majesty of him he had so high­ly offended. OVR L. What meaneth this wee­ping? What doest thou here? speakest thou nothing? rise and say what thou wouldest haue. DE. What may I presume to speake O Lord, in presence of thy Majesty, I acknowledge my selfe vnworthy, to open my vncleane mouth in the presence of such a Lord, admit me to be si­lent, and to stand still and sigh, and to bewaile and lament my owne iniquity. OVR LORD. Wherefore then art thou come hither. DE. I of my selfe neuer came in hither, for I hold my selfe vnworthy to abide in thy house, much lesse worthy to enter thy chamber. OVR LORD. Who then brought thee hither? DE. Thy selfe sweete Lord, thou hast drawen [Page 146]me, thou hast made me cry, and call vpon thee, thou hast commanded thy gates to be opened, and that I should be brought in hither to thee. My selfe am wholy ignorant of the cause here­of, or what hath moued thee to it, or what neede thou hast of me. For I hold in more sufficient, then that so vnworthy a wreatch a I am, shold be thought worthy to be the meanest of thy seruāts, & a bondman & slaue in this thy house: although of my selfe I cannot deserue that, and hould my selfe vnworthy to obteyne it. But considering that it hath pleased thee to call me, and that it pleaseth thee, I shall abide with thee, and speake to thee: open thou O Lord I be­seech thee my lippes, and teach me what I shall say in thy presence. Plant in mee thy spirit of feare and reuerence, that thy Majesty be not offended by me, or vnreuerendly worshipped, or vnhonorably entreated from this time fore­warde ofso vile a sinner as I acknowledge my selfe. For it cannot be done without offering thee great iniurie. And rather had I kil my selfe then to offer contempt, ignominie or disgrace to thy Majesty. For therby shold I offer great iniury and contempt to all Angels, and Arch­angels, and the whole fellowshippe of heauen, who with so great reuerence, and feruour doe loue and honor thee. Teach me therefore O lord, what I shal say or do to thee. For I wholy [Page 147]resigne my self into thy hands. Grant me there­fore sweete Lord the spirit of Humilitie where­with I may serue thee, thy house & all thy ser­uāts; let my seruice be acceptable to thee, & be thou O Lord honored and glorified in me.

CHAPTER 14. How our Lord instructed Desire, how he should behaue himselfe.

OVR LO. Rise upandlay away all man­ner of feare. If hēceforth thou wilt be ver­tuous and Godly, & behaue thy selfe according to thy duety: I will neuer remēber the wrongs and iniuries thou hast done me. And that thou mayest henceforth amend and become, better, I will deliuer thee only foure wordes, which if thou remember, and wilt only obserue, shall be very beneficiall & auaileable to thee. The first two are. I and Thou. The other two. A Seruant & a King. These foure wordes when thou canst well exercise and practize, will bring thee to great perfection & purity of hart: and will de­fend & deliuer thee from all perturbatiōs of the minde, & will instruct thee to liue peaceably & friendly, &conuerse quietly with al men. DE. Voutsafe O lord to direct me, how I may exer­cise these foure words. OVR LO. Thou maist refer all thy exercises to these foure words, for they are of great importace, & whole volumes might be written of them alone, which of them [Page 148]selues were sufficient to teach great perfection. Therefore when thou esoluest to speake vnto me, if then thou finde thy self could, distracted, or discontēted for any thing that thou art cōman­ded, thinke to thy selfe that with these wordes alone I speake to thee. I & Thou. And then ex­clude from thy minde the whole world, & what soeuer thou hast heard or seene in thy life, ima­gining that none, but I I Thou are left in this world. The other two wordes, Seruant & King, will auaile thee in liuing with thy Brothers in this House. The first, wherof Seruant will profit thee herein, that thou maist imagine thy selfe, the seruant of all men, whereby thou shalt attayne, Humilitie and Obedience. The other word King, will serue thee to remember that thou art King and commander ouer thy selfe. For such Kings doe I enritch & loade with al treasures. For this time be contēt with this directiō, & haue peace & quietnes, & so depart. DE. Wherefore O Lord doest thou bidde me depart, & wilt that I forsake thy presence? OVR LO. Thinke not thy selfe worthy to abide alwaies with me, but at such times only as I wil, & shal send for thee, and then take thou heede that thou doe not of­fend in vaineglory or presumption. For accor­ding to my owne will & pleasure I wil cal thee. But before thou goe hence, leaue thy hart here with me, that whersoeuer thou cōuerse thy bet­ter [Page 149]part may be with me. DE. Most willingly sweet Lord, I cōmit my hart to thy protection. OVR LO. I receaue it from thy willing offer, & yet thinke not alwaies that I will doe so, for sometimes for thy benefit, & to humble thee I wil refuse to keep it. And this one thing I wold not haue thee ignorant of, which peraduenture is vnknowne to thee; That the greater comfort & consolation I desire to send my friends: with the more troules, aduersities, & afflictions, I vse tovisit them. But if thou wilt leaue Good wil thy dogge herewith me, he may continually remayne in my presence, & shal neuer goe from me, except thou thy selfe wilt, yet neuerthelesse daylie must thou commend him to mee. DE. Why is it needeful that I commend him to thee daylie? sufficeth it not that I doe it once. OVR LORD. No, and not for feare, least I should forget thee; but lest thou thy selfe proue vn­mindefull of me, and that thou mayest haue oc­casion euer to remember and haue mee in thy minde, whereby I may gratifie and rewarde thee daylie, and according to thy necessity and want may helpe and succour thee. For nothing it is to me whither thou be mindefull or vn­mindefull of me. DE. I yeeld thee most humble thankes my sweete Lord and Master. Long since haue I proued thy goodnes and bene­uolence, for which thou workest all thinges in [Page 150]vs only for our saluation and benefit.

CHAPTER. 15. How Desire put in practise the scure wordes of his Lord and Master, and what benefit he receaued thereby.

THus Desire departing out, of the chamber of his Lord and Master, & leauing his hart still behinde with him; he found Desire of God without the dore, expecting his comming, to whome he said. What hast thou done so long time within? thinkest thou my Lord & Master, taketh delight & is pleased with many wordes? beleeue me, thou shalt sometime preuaile more with him, with one word then with a hundered. DE. Me thinketh I haue stayed to short a time with him. DE. OF GOD. Now viewe & con­sider all this house, considering thou art recea­ned in hither. DE. I will goe to my chamber. DE. OF GOD. Goe in the name of God. Now Desire did daylie reuolue in his minde the foure wordes, which his Lord & Master had deliue­red him, & oft would say to himselfe. I & Theu. Seruant and King. And whensoeuer hee spake them, whither he deuided them, or joyned them yet euer they agreed well togither. For joyning the first, which is I. With the third, which is A Seruant, he said to himself I pronounce them rightly. For, for the loue of my Lord & master. I am a seruant. Then joyning the first with the [Page 151]last which is a King. Sill he semed to pronounce them rightly. For being the seruant of God, he said he was a King. For to serue God: that is to raigne. Againe speaking them an other way & joyning, King with Seruant. Still they agreed well togither. For the King of heauen to the in­tent he might make me a King, made himselfe a Seruant, and whosoeuer will be a King it is ne­cessary that first he make himselfe a Seruant. Thus did Desire for his benefit many wayes joyne these foure wordes togither. For if at any time he were oppressed with any externall ad­uersity, presently would he say to himselfe, I nothing regard what men say or thinke of me, not esteeming whither they honor or cōtenine me. I am a seruant or bondman, & these things are meete for such an on. If he felt himself to be tempted with any voluptuous pleasure, then said he to himselfe. Be it farre from me, that am a King to become, the salue of filthy vice and pleasure. So vile a seruitude befitteth not my Nobility. Thus receaued Desire exceeding be­nefits by these words: whither he joyned them in order, or placed them contrarily. For both did they quēch naughty desires kindled in him & appeased & mitigated all his adjuersities. But now cōsidering the explication of these words may be infinit, least I seeme to be tedious, I re­fer the rest to the good consideration of others.