• Haec-Vir; The Womanish-Man.
• Hic-Mulier; The Man-Woman.

MOst redoubted and worthy Sir (for lesse then a Knight I cannot take you) you are most happily giuen vnto mine imbrace.

Is she mad? or doth shee mocke mee? Most rare and excellent Lady, I am the seruant of your vertues, and desire to be imployed in your seruice.

Pitie of patience, what doth hee be­hold in me, to take me for a woman? Valiant and magnanimous Sir, I shal desire to build the Tower of my Fortune vpon no stronger foundation then the benefit of your grace and fauour.

O! proud euer to be your Seruant.

No, the Seruant of your Seruant.

The Tythe of your friendship (good Lady) is aboue my merit.

You make mee rich beyond expressi­on. But faire Knight, the truth is I am a Man, and desire but the obligation of your friendship.

It is ready to be sealed and deliuered to your vse. Yet I would haue you vnderstand I am a Woman.

Are you a VVoman?

Are you a Man? O Iuno Lucina help me.

Yes I am.

Your name; most tender piece of Masculine.

Haec-Vir. No stranger either in Court, Citie, or Countrey. But what is yours, most coura­gious counterfet of Hercales and his Distaffe?

Neere a kinne to your goodnes; and compounded of fully as false Latine. The world cals me, Hic-Mulier.

What, Hic-Mulier, the Man-Woman? She that like a Larum-Bell at midnight hath raised the whole Kingdome in Armes against her? Good, stand, and let me take a full suruay, both of thee, and all thy dependants.

Doe freely: and when thou hast daw­bed me ouer, with the worst colours thy malice can grinde, then giue mee leaue to answere for my selfe, and I will say thou art an accuser iust and in­different. Which done, I must intreat you to sit as many minutes, that I may likewise take your pic­ture, [Page]& then referre to censure, whether of our defor­mities is most iniurious to Nature, or most effeminine to good men, in the notoriousnes of the example.

With like condition of freedome to an­swere. The Articles are agreed on: Therefore stand forth, halfe Birchen-Lane, halfe S^t. Thomas Apostles: The first lent thee a doublet, the later a nether-skirt: Halse Bridewell, halfe Blacke-Friers; the one for a scuruy Blocke, the other for a most prophane Fea­ther; halfe Mull'd-Sacke the Chimney-sweeper, halfe Garrat the Foole at a Tilting; the one for a Yel­low Ruffe, the other for a Skarseable to put a Souldi­our out of countenance; halfe Bedlam, halfe Bri­mendgham, the one for a base sale Boote, the other for a beastly Leaden gilt Spurre: and to conclude, all Hell, all Damnation. For a shorne, powdered, bor­rowed Hayre, a naked, lasciuious, bawdy Bosome, a Leaden-Hall Dagger, a High-way Pistoll, and a mind and behauiour sutable or exceeding euery repeated deformitie. To be briefe, I can but in those few lines deliniate your proportion, for the paraphrase or compartment, to set out your vglinesse to the grea­test extent of wonder. I can but referre you to your God-child that carries your own name, I meane the Booke of Hic-Mulier, there you shall see your cha­racter, and feele your shame, with that palpable plainenesse, that no Aegyptian darknes can bee more grosse and terrible.

My most tender piece of mans flesh, leaue this lightening and thunder, and come round­ly [Page]to the matter, draw mine accusation into heads, and then let me answere.

Then thus. In that Booke you are arraig­ned, and found guilty. First of Basenesse, in making your selfe a slaue to nouelty, and the poore inuenti­on of euery weake Braine that hath but an imbroi­dered out-side, Next, of Vnnaturalnesse, to forsake the Creation of God, and Customes of the King­dome, to be pieced and patched vp by a French Tai­lor, an Italian Baby-maker, and a Dutch Souldiour (beat from the Armie for the ill example of Ruffian­ly behauiour) then of Shamelesnesse, in casting off all modest softnesse, and ciuilitie, to runne thorow eue­ry desart and wildernesse of mens opinions, like care­lesse vntamed Heyfers, or wilde Sauages. Lastly, of foolishnesse, in hauing no moderation or temper, ei­ther in passions or affections: But turning all into perturbations and sicknesses of the soule, laugh away the preciousnes of your Time, and at last dye with the flattering sweet malice of an incurable consump­tion. Thus Basenesse, Vnnaturalnesse, Shamelesnesse, Foolishnesse, are the maine Hatch-ments, or Coat-Armours, which you haue tane as rich spoiles to a­dorne you in the deformitie of your apparell: which if you can excuse, I can pitie, and thanke Proserpina for thy wit; though no good man can allow of the Reasons.

Well, then to the purpose: First, you say, Not Base. I am Base, in being a Slaue to Nouelty. What sla­uery can there be in freedome of election? or what basenesse, to crowne my delights with those pleasures [Page]which are most sutable to mine affections? What Bon­dage is. Bondage or Slauery, is a restraint from those actions, which the minde (of it owne accord) doth most willingly desire: to performe the intents and purposes of an­others disposition, and that not but by mansuetude or sweetnesse of intreatie; but by the force of autho­ritie and strength of compulsion. Now for mee to follow change, according to the limitation of mine owne will and pleasure, A defence of change. there cannot bee a greater freedome. Nor do I in my delight of change other­wise then as the whole world doth, or as becommeth a daughter of the world to doe. For what is the world, but a very shop or ware-house of change? Sometimes Winter, sometimes Summer; day and night: they hold sometimes Riches, sometimes Po­uertie, sometimes Health, sometimes Sicknesse: now Pleasure; presētly Anguish; now Honour; then con­tempt: and to conclude, there is nothing but change, which doth surround and mixe withall our For­tunes. And will you haue poore woman such a fixed Starre, that shee shall not so much as moue or twin­kle in her owne Spheare? That were true Slauery indeed, and a Basenesse beyond the chaines of the worst seruitude. Nature to euery thing she hath crea­ted, hath giuen a singular delight in change, as to Hearbs, Plants and Trees a time to wither and shead their leaues, a time to budde and bring forth their leaues, and a time for their Fruits and Flowers: To wormes and creeping things a time to hide them­selues in the pores and hollowes of the earth, and a time to come abroad and sucke the deaw; To Beasts [Page]libertie to chuse their foode, liberty to delight in their food, and liberty to feed and grow fat with their food. The Birds haue the ayre to fly in, the waters to bathe in, and the earth to feed on. But to man, both these and all things else, to alter, frame and fashion, according as his will and delight shall rule him. A­gaine, who will rob the eye of the variety of obiects, the eare of the delight of sounds, the nose of smels, the tong of tasts, & the hand of feeling? & shall only woman, excellent woman; so much better in that she is something purer, be onely depriued of this bene­fit? Shall she bee the Bondslaue of Time, the Hand­maid of opinion, or the strict obseruer of euery frosty or cold benummed imagination? It were a cruelty be­yond the Racke or Strapado.

But you will say it is not Change, What nouel­tie is. but Noueltie, from which you deterre vs: a thing that doth euert the good, and erect the euill; preferre the faithlesse, and confound desert; that with the change of Opinions breeds the change of States, and with continuall alte­rations thrusts headlong forward both Ruine and Subuersion. Alas (soft Sir) what can you chrysten by that new imagined Title, when the words of a wise­man are; that what was done, is but done againe: all things do change, & vnder the cope of Heauen there is no new thing. So that whatsoeuer wee doe or imitate, it is neither Slauish, Base, nor a breeder of Nouelty.

Next, Not vnnatu­rall. you condemne me of Vnnaturalnesse, in for­saking my creation, and contemning custome. How doe I forsake my creation, that doe all the rights and offices due to my Creation? I was created free, born [Page]free, and liue free: what lets me then so to spinne out my time, that I may dye free?

To alter creation, were to walke on my hands with my heeles vpward, to feed my self with my feet, or to forsake the sweet sound of sweet words, for the his­sing noise of the Serpent: but I walk with a face erect­ed, with a body cloathed, with a mind busied, & with a heart full of reasonable and deuout cogitations; onely offensiue in attire, in as much as it is a Stranger to the curiositie of the present times, and an enemie to Custome. Are we then bound to be the Flatterers of Time, or the dependants on Custome? O misera­rable seruitude chained onely to Basenesse and Fol­ly! for then custome, nothing is more absurd, no­thing more foolish.

It was a custome amongst the Romanes, Foolish Cu­stomes. that as we wash our hands before meales, so they with curious and sweet oyntments anointed all their armes and legges quite ouer, and by successe of time grew from these vnguents to bathes of rich perfumed and com­pound waters, in which they bathed their whole bo­dies: holding it the greatest disgrace that might be, to vse or touch any naturall water, as appeares by these Verses.

It was a custome amongst the Ancients to lye vpon stately and soft beds, when eyther they deliuered Embassages, or entered into any serious discourse or argument, as appeares by these Verses: [Page]

Cato Iunior held it for a custome, neuer to eat meat but sitting on the ground: the Venetians kisse one an­other euer at the first meeting: and euen at this day it is a generall receiued custome amongst our Eng­lish, that when we meet or ouertake any man in our trauell or iourneying, to examine him whither hee rides, how farre, to what purpose, and where he lod­geth? nay, and with that vnmannerly boldnesse of inquisition, that it is a certaine ground of a most in­sufficient quarrell, not to receiue a full satisfaction of those demands which goe farre astray from good manners, or comely ciuilitie; and will you haue vs to marty our selues to these Mymicke and most fanta­sticke customes? It is a fashion or custome with vs to mourne in Blacke: yet the Argian and Romane La­dies euer mourned in White; and (if we will tye the action vpon the signification of colours) I see not but we may mourne in Greene, Blue, Red or any sim­ple colour vsed in Heraldry. For vs to salute strangers with a kisse, is counted but ciuilitie, but with forraine Nations immodestie: for you to cut the hayre of your vpper lips, familiar heere in England, euery where else almost thought vnmanly. To ride on Side-Saddles at first was counted heere abominable pride, &c. I might instance in a thousand things that onely Custome and not Reason hath approued. To conclude Custome is an Idiot; and whosoeuer de­pendeth [Page]wholely vpon him, without the discourse of Reason, will take from him his pyde coat, and be­come a slaue indeed to contempt and censure.

But you say wee are barbarous and shameles, Nor shameles. and cast off all softnes, to runne wilde through a wilder­nesse of opinions. In this you expresse more cruelty then in all the rest, because I stand not with my hands on my belly like a baby at Bartholomew Fayre, that moue not my whole body when I should but onely stirre my head like Iacke of the Clocke house which hath no ioynts, that am not dumbe when wantons court mee, as if Asse-like I were ready for all bur­thens, or because I weep not when iniury gripes me, like a woorried Deere in the fangs of many Curres: am I therefore barbarous or shamelesse? He is much iniurious that so baptiz'd vs: we are as free-borne as Men, haue as free election, and as free spirits, we are compounded of like parts, and may with like liberty make benefit of our Creations: my countenance shal smile on the worthy, and frowne on the ignoble, I will heare the Wise, and bee deafe to Ideots, giue counsell to my friend, but bee dumbe to flatterers, I haue hands that shall bee liberall to reward defert, feete that shall moue swiftly to do good offices, and thoughts that shall euer accompany freedome and seuerity. If this bee barbarous, let me leaue the Citie, and liue with creatures of like simplicity.

To conclude, you say wee are all guilty of most infinite folly and indiscretion. I confesse, Not foolish. that Disore­tion is the true salt which seasoneth euery excellency, eyther in Man or Woman, and without it nothing is [Page]well, nothing is worthy: that want disgraceth our actions, staineth our Vertues, and indeed makes vs most prophane and irreligious, yet it is euer found in excesse, as in too much, or too little: and of which of these are wee guilty; do we weare too many cloathes or too few? if too many, wee should oppresse Na­ture, if too few, we should bring sicknesse to Nature: but neither of these wee do, for what we do weare is warme, thrifty and wholesome, then no excesse, and so no indiscretion: where is then the error? onely in the Fashion, onely in the Custome. Oh for mercy sake bind vs not to so hatefull a companion, but re­member what one of our famous English Poets sayes:

Againe, another as excellent in the same Art, saith,

And will you bee so tyrannous then, to compell poore Woman to bee a mistrisse to so vnfaithfull a Seruant? Beleeue it, then we must call vp our Cham­pions against you, which are Beauty and Frailty, and what the one cannot compell you to forgiue, the o­ther shall inforce you to pitty or excuse: and thus my selfe imagining my selfe free of these foure Imputati­ons, [Page]I rest to bee confuted by some better and gra­uer Iudgement.

You haue wrested out some wit, to wrangle forth no reason; since euery thing you would make for excuse, approues your guilt still more oug­ly: what baser bondage, or what more seruile base­nesse, then for the flattering and soothing of an vn­bridled appetite, or delight, to take a wilfull libertie to do euill, and to giue euill example? this is to bee Hels Prentice, not Heauens Free-woman. It is dis­putable amongst our Diuines, whether vpon any oc­casion a woman may put on mans attyre, or no: all conclude it vnfit; and the most indifferent will allow it, but onely to escape persecution. Now you will not onely put it on, but weare it continually; and not weare it; but take pride in it, not for persecution, but want on pleasure; not to escape danger, but to runne into damnation; not to helpe others, but to confound the whole sexe by the euilnesse of so lewd an exam­ple. Phalaris (though an extreme tyrant) when he executed the inuenter of the Brazen Bull in the Bull) did it not so much for the pleasure he tooke in the torment, as to cut from the earth a braine so diuelish and full of vnciuill and vnnaturall inuentions. And sure had the first inuenter of your disguise perisht with all her cooplements about her, a world had been pre­serued from scandall and slander; for from one euill to beget infinites, or to nourish sin with a delight in sinne, is of all habits the lowest, ignoblest and basest.

Now, who knowes not, that to yeeld to basenesse, must needs be folly? (for what Wisedome will bee [Page]guilty of its owne iniury?) To be foolishly base, how can there bee an action more barbarous? and to bee base, foolish and barbarous, how can there appeare any sparke, twinkle, or but ember of discretion or iudgement? So that notwithstanding your elaborat plea for freedome, your seuere condemnation of custome, your fayre promise of ciuill actions, and your temperate auoiding of excesse, whereby you would seeme to hugge and imbrace discretion; yet till you weare hats to desend the Sunne, not to couer shorne locks, Caules to adorne the head, not Grego­rians to warme idle braines, till you weare innocent white Ruffes, not iealous yellow iaundis'd bands, well shapt, comely and close Gownes, not light skirts and French doublets, for Poniards, Samplers, for Pistols Prayer-bookes, and for ruffled Bootes and Spurres, neate Shooes and cleane-garterd Stockings, you shall neuer lose the title of Basenesse, Vnnaturalnes, Shamelesnesse, and Foolishnesse, you shall feede Bal­lads, make rich shops, arme contempt, and onely starue and make poore your selues and your reputa­tions. To conclude, if you will walke without diffe­rence, you shall liue without reuerence: if you will contēne order, you must indure the shame of disor­der; and if you will haue no rulers but your wills, you must haue no reward but disdaine and disgrace, according to the saying of an excellent English Poet:

Sir, I confesse you haue raysd mine eie­lids vp, but you haue not cleane taken away the filme that couers the sight: I feele (I confesse) cause of be­liefe, and would willingly bend my heart to enter­taine beliefe, but when the accuser is guilty of as much or more then that hee accuseth, or that I see you refuse the potion, and are as grieuously infected, blame mee not then a little to stagger, and till you will bee pleas'd to be cleans'd of that leprosie which I see apparant in you, giue me leaue to doubt whe­ther mine infection be so contagious, as your blinde seuerity would make it.

Therefore to take your proportion in a few lines, The descripti­on of a Wo­manish Man. (my deare Feminine Masculine) tell me what Char­ter, prescription or right of claime you haue to those things you make our absolute inheritance? why doe you curle, frizell and powder your hayres, bestowing more houres and time in deniding locke from lock, and hayre from hayre, in giuing euery thread his posture, and euery curle his true sence and circum­pherence then euer Caesar did in marshalling his Ar­my, eyther at Pharsalia, in Spaine, or Brittaine? why doe you rob vs of our Ruffes, of our Earetings, Car­kanets, and Mamillions, of our Fannes and Feathers, our Busks and French bodies, nay, of our Maskes, Hoods, Shadowes and Shapynas? not so much as the very Art of Painting, but you haue so greedily ingrost it, that were it not for that little fantasticall [Page]sharp pointed dagger that hangs at your chins, & the crosse hilt which gards your vpper lip, hardly would there be any difference between the fayre Mistris & the foolish Seruant. But is this theft the vttermost of our Spoyle? Fie, you haue gone a world further, and euen rauisht from vs our speech, our actions, sports and recreations. Goodnesse leaue mee, if I haue not heard a Man court his Mistris with the same words that Venus did Adonis, or as neere as the Booke could instruct him; where are the Tilts and Tournies, and loftie Gallyards that were daunst in the daies of old, when men caperd in the ayre like wanton kids on the tops of Mountaines, and turnd aboue ground as if they had been compact of Fire or a purer element? Tut all's forsaken, all's vanisht, those motions shewed more strength then Art, and more courage then courtship; it was much too robustious, and rather spent the body then prepared it, especially where a­ny defect before raigned; hence you tooke from vs poore Women our trauerses and tourneys, our mo­dest statelinesse and curious slidings, and left vs no­thing but the new French garbe of puppet hopping and letting. Lastly, poore Sheetle-cock that was on­ly a female inuention, how haue you taken it out of our hands, and made your selues such Lords and Ru­lers ouer it, that though it be a very Embleme of vs, and our lighter despised fortunes, yet it dare now hardly come neere vs; nay, you keepe it so impri­sond within your Bedde-Chambers and dyning roomes, amongst your Pages and Panders, that a poore innocent Mayd to giue but a kicke with her [Page]Battle-dore, were more then halfe way to the ruine of her reputation. For this you haue demolish'd the noble schooles of Hors-manship (of which many were in this Citie) hung vp your Armes to rust, glu­ed vp those swords in their scabberds that would shake all Christendome with the brandish, and enter­tained into your mindes such softnes, dulnesse and effeminate nicenesse, that it would euen make He­raclitus himselfe laugh against his nature to see how pulingly you languish in this weake en­tertained sinne of womanish softnesse: To see one of your gender either shew himselfe (in the midst of his pride or riches) at a Play house, or publique assembly how; (before he dare enter) with the Iacobs Staffe of his owne eyes and his Pages, hee takes a full suruay of himselfe, from the highest sprig in his feather, to the lowest spangle that shines in his Shoo-string: how he prunes and picks himselfe like a Hawke set a weathering, cals euery seuerall garment to Auricular confession, making them vt­ter both their mortall great staines, and their veniall and lesse blemishes, though the moat bee much lesse then an Attome: Then to see him plucke and tugge euery thing into the forme of the newest receiued fashion; and by Durers rules make his legge answe­rable to his necke; his thigh proportionable with his middle, his foote with his hand, and a world of such idle disdained foppery: To see him thus patcht vp with Symetry, make himselfe complete, and euen as a circle: and lastly, cast himselfe amongst the eyes of the people (as an obiect of wonder) with more [Page]nicenesse, then a Virgin goes to the sheetes of her first Louer, would make patience her selfe mad with anger, and cry with the Poet:

Now since according to your own Inference, euen by the Lawes of Nature, by the rules of Religion, and the Customes of all ciuill Nations, it is necessary there be a distinct and speciall difference betweene Man and Woman, both in their habit and behaui­ours: what could we poore weake women doe lesse (being farre too weake by force to fetch backe those spoiles you haue vniustly taken from vs) then to ga­ther vp those garments you haue proudly cast away, and therewith to cloath both our bodies and our mindes; since no other meanes was left vs to conti­nue our names, and to support a difference? for to haue held the way in which our fore-fathers first set vs, or to haue still imbraced the ciuill modestie, or gentle sweetnesse of our soft inclinations; why, you had so farre incroacht vpon vs, and so ouer-brib'd the world, to be dease to any grant of Restitution, that as at our creation, our whole sexe was contained in man our first Parent, so we should haue had no o­ther beeing, but in you, and your most effeminate qualitie. Hence we haue preserued (though to our owne shames) those manly things which you haue forsaken, which would you againe accept, and re­store to vs the Blushes we layd by, when first wee put on your Masculine garments; doubt not but chaste [Page]thoughts and bashfulnesse will againe dwell in vs, and our Palaces beeing newly gilt, trimmed, and re­edified, draw to vs all the Graces, all the Muses; which that you may more willingly doe, and (as wee of yours) growe into detestation of that deformitie you haue purloyn'd, to the vtter losse of your Honours and Reputations? Marke how the braue Italian Poet, euen in the Infancy of your abuses, most liuely describes you;

Thus you see your iniury to vs is of an old and in­ueterate continuance, hauing taken such strong root in your bosomes, that it can hardly bee pull'd vp, [Page]without some offence to the soyle: ours yong and tender, scarce freed from the Swaddling clouts, and therefore may with as much ease bee lost, as it was with little difficulty found. Cast then from you our ornaments, and put on your owne armours: Be men in shape, men in shew, men in words, men in actions, men in counsell, men in example: then will we loue and serue you; then will wee heare and obey you; then will wee like rich Iewels hang at your eares to take our Instructions, like true friends follow you through all dangers, and like carefull leeches powre oyle into your wounds: Then shall you finde delight in our words; pleasure in our faces; faith in our hearts; chastitie in our thoughts, and sweetnesse both in our inward & outward inclinations. Come­linesse shall be then our study; feare our Armour, and modestie our practice: Then shall we be all your most excellentest thoughts can desire, and haue no­thing in vs lesse then impudence and deformitie.

Inough: You haue both rais'd mine eye-lids, cleered my sight, and made my heart enter­taine both shame and delight at an instant; shame in my Follies past; delight in our Noble and worthy Conuersion. Away then from me these light vani­ties, the onely Ensignes of a weake and soft nature: and come you graue and solid pieces, which arme a man with Fortitude and Resolution: you are too tough and stubborne for a womans wearing, we will heere change our attires, as wee haue chang'd our mindes, and with our attires, our names. I will no more be Haec-Vir, but Hic Vir, nor you Hic-Mulier, [Page]but Haec Mulier: from henceforth deformitie shall packe to Hell: and if at any time hee hide himselfe vpon the earth, yet it shall bee with contempt and disgrace. Hee shall haue no friend but Pouerty; no fauourer but Folly, nor no reward but Shame. Henceforth we will liue nobly like our selues, euer sober, euer discreet, euer worthy; true men, and true women. We will bee henceforth like well-coupled Doues, full of industry, full of loue: I meane, not of sensuall and carnall loue, but heauenly and diuine loue, which proceedes from God; whose vnexpres­sable nature none is able to deliuer in words, since it is like his dwelling, high and beyond the reach of humane apprehension; according to the saying of the Poet, in these Verses following: