GREEN'S Never too late. Or, A Powder of Experience: Sent to all youthful Gentlemen; to root out the infectious follies, that overreaching conceits foster in the spring time of their youth. Deciphering in a true English history, those particular vanities, that with their frosty vapours nip the blossoms of every ripe brain, from attaining to his intended perfection. As pleasant, as profitable, being a right pumice stone, apt to race out idleness with delight, and folly with admonition.  
Rob. Green in artibus Magister.  
Omne tulit punctum.  
LONDON Printed by Thomas Orwin for N.L. and john Busbie. 1590.   

To the right Worshipful, Thomas Burnaby Esquire, Robert green wisheth increase of all honourable virtues.  
Such (right Worshipful) as coveted to deck the Temple of Delphos, adorned the shrine either with green bays, or curious instruments, because Apollo did as well patronize Music as Poetry. When the Trojans sought to pacify the wrath of Pallas: the people's presents were books and lances, to signify her deity, as well defended by letters as arms. And they which desired to be in the favour of Alexander, brought him either wise Philosophers or hardy Soldiers; for he sought counsellors like Aristotle, and captains like Perdycas. Seeing then how gifts are the more gratefully accepted, by how much the more they fit the humour of the party to whom they are presented: desirous a long time to gratific your Worship with something that might signify, how in all bounden duty. I have for sundry favours been affected to your Worship, and finding my ability to be unfit to present you with any thing of worth; at last I resolved so far to presume as to trouble your Worship with the patronage of this Pamphlet, knowing you are such a Maecenas of learning ●hat you will as soon vouch with Augustus a f●w verses, given by a poor Greek as of the Arabian Courser, presented by Tytinius. The Book is little, yet drawn from a large principle, Nunquam 〈◊〉 est ad bonos mores via: wherein I have discouer●● so artificially the fraudulent effects of Venus' trumperies, and so plainly as in a platform, laid open the prejudicial pleasures of love, that Gentlemen may see, that as the Diamond is beauteous to the sight, and yet deadly poison to the stomach, that as the Ba●an leaf containeth both the Antidote, and the Aconiton, so love (unless only grounded upon virtue) breedeth more disparagement to the credit than content to the fancy. If then (right Worshipful) out of this confused Chaos Gentlemen sh●ll gather any principles, whereby to direct their actions, and that from rash and resolute mainteners' of Venus heresies they become reform champions to defend Vesta's philosophies. Then all the profit and pleasure that shall redound to them by this Pamphlet shall be attributed to your Worship, as to the man, by whose means th●s Nunquam sera came to light. Hoping therefore your Worship will with a favourable insight enter more into the mind of the giver than the worth of the gift, I commit your Worship unto the Almighty.  
Your Worships humbly to command, Rob. Greene.   

To the Gentlem●● Readers.  
Such Gentlemen as had their ●ares filled with the harmony of Orpheus harp, could not abide th' arsh music of Hiparchions' pipe; yet the Thessalians would allow t●e poor fiddler licence to frolic it among shepherds. Though no pictures could go for currant with Alexander, b●t such as past through Apelles pencil, yet poor men had their houses shadowed with Phidias course colours. Ennius was called a Poet as well as Virgil, and Vulcan with his po●t foot friskt with Venus as well as Mars. Gentlemen, if I presume to present you as hethertoo I have done with frivolous toys; yet for that I stretch my strings as high as I can; if you praise me not with Orpheus, hiss me not out with Hiparchion: if I I paint not with Apelles, yet scrape not out my shadows with disgrace; if I stir my stumps with Vulcan, though it be lamely done, yet think it is a dance: so if my Nunquam sera est please not; yet I pray you pass it over with patience, and say 'tis a book. So hoping I shall find you as ever I have done, I end.  
Robert Greene.   

A Madrigale to wanton Lovers.  

YOu that by Alcidalions' silver brooks  
Sat and sigh out the passions of your loves,  
That on your Goddess beauties feed your looks,  
And pamper up sweet Venus' wanton Doves,  
That seek to sit by Cupid's scorching fire,  
And dally in the fountains of desire.   

You that account no heaven like Venus' sphere,  
That think each dimple in your Mistress chin  
Earth's paradise, that deem her golden hair  
Tresses of bliss wherein to wander in:  
That sigh and court suppliant all to prove,  
Cupid is God, and there's no heaven but love.   

Come see the work that green hath s●ilie wrought,  
Take but his Nunquam sera in your view,  
As in a mirror there is deeply taught  
The wanton vices of proud fancy's crew,  
There is depainted by most curious art,  
How love and folly jump in every part.   

There may you see repentance all in black,  
Scourging the forward passions of fond youth,  
How fading pleasures end in dismal wrack,  
How lovers joys are tempered all with ruth,  
Sith than his Nunquam sera yields such gains,  
Read it, and thank the Author for his pains.   Ralph Sidley.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

IF Horace satires merit much praise,  
For taunting such as lived in Paphos I'll,  
If wise Propertius was in elder days  
Laureate for figuring out fond Venus' wile:  
If Rome applauded Ovid's pleasing verse,  
That did the salves that medicine love rehearse.   

Then English Gentles stoop and gather bays,  
Make coronets of Flora's proudest flowers,  
As gifts for Green for he must have the praise,  
And taste the dews that high Parna●sus showers,  
As having leapt beyond old Horace strain,  
In taunting lovers for their fruitless pain.   

His Nunquam sera more conceits combines,  
Than wanton Ovid in his art did paint,  
And sharper satires are within his lines,  
Than Martial s●ong proud Venus to attaint,  
Read then his art, and all his actions prove,  
There is no folly like to foolish love.   Richard Hake, Gent.  

GREEN'S Nunquam sera est.  
BEing resident in Bergamo, not far distant from Venice, sitting under a cool shade that then shrouded me from the extreme violence of the meridional heat, having never a book in my hand to beguile time, nor no pathetical impression in my head to procure any secret meditation, I had flat fallen into a slumber, if I had not espied a traveler weary and desolate, to have bended his steps towards me. Desirous to shake off drowsiness with some company I attended his arrival; but as he drew ne●re, he seemed so acquaint in his attire, and so conceited in his countenance, as I deemed the man either some penitent pilgrim that was very religious, or some despairing lover that had been too too affectionate: For thus take his description.  

An Ode.  
Down the valley 'gan he track,  
Bag and bottle at his back,  
In a surcoate all of grey,  
Such wear Palmers on the way,  
When with scrip and staff they see  
jesus grave on Caluarie,  
A hat of straw like a swain  
Shealter for the son and rain,  
With a scollop shell before:  
Sandals on his feet he wore,  
Legs were bare, arms unclad,  
Such attire this Palmer had.  
His face fair like Titan's shine●  
Grace and b●●some were his eyen,  
Whereout dropped pearls of sorrow:  
Such sweet tears Love doth borrow,  
When in outward d●awes she plains  
Hearts distress that lovers paines●  
Ruby lips, cherry cheeks,  
Such rare mixture Venus seeks,  
When to keep her damsels quiet  
Beauty sets them down their diet:  
Adonis ' was not thought more ●aire.  
Curled locks of amber hair:  
Locks where Love did sit and twine  
Nets to snare the gazer's eyen:  
Such a Palmer near was seen,  
Less love himsel●e had Palmer been.  
Yet for all he was so acquaint  
Sorrow did his visage taint.  
Midst the riches of his face,  
Grief deciphered hi● disgrace:  
Every step stra●●d a ●eare,  
Sudden sighs showed his fear:  
And yet his fear by his sight,  
Ended in a str●nge delight.  
That his passions did approve,  
Weeds and sorrow were for love.   
Thus attired in his traveling robes and leveled out in the lineaments of his Physnomy, not seeing me that lay close in the thicketh h●●●ate him down under a Beech tree, where after he had taken up his seat with a sigh he began thus to point out his passions.  
Infortunate Palmer, whose weeds discovers thy woes, whose looks thy sorrows, whose sighs thy repentance: tho● wanderest to bewail thy sin, that heretog fore hast not wondered at the greatness of sin; and seekest now by the sight of a strange Land, to satisfy those sol●●es committed in thy Native home. Why, is there more grace in the East than in the West●● is God more gracious in jewry, than merciful in England? more favourable to Palmers for their travel, than pitiful to sinners for their penance? No, be not so superstitious, lest thou measuring his favour by circumstance, he punish thy faults in severity. Ah, but the deepest ulcers have the sharpest corrosives, some sores can not be cured but by Subl●matum, and some offences as they begin in content so they end in sackcloth: I wear not this Palmer's grey to challenge grace, nor seek the holy Land to countervail the Law, nor am a Pilgrim to acquittance sin with penance: but I content me in this habit to show the meekness of my heart, and travel through many countries to make other men learn to beware by my harms: for if I come amongst youth, I will show them that the finest buds are soonest ●●p● with frosts, the sweetest flowers sores● eaten with canckars, & the ripest & yong●st ●its soon overgrown with follies: if I chance among Courtiers, I will tell them, ●hat as the star Artophilex is brightest, yet setteth soonest; so their glo●●es b●ing most gorgeous, are dash● with sodainest overthrows: if among scholars, I will prove that their Philosophical axioms, their quiddities of Logic, their aphorisms of art, are dissolved with this definite period Omma sub sole vanitas ● If amongst Lovers, and with this the tears fell from his eyes, and the sighs flew from his heart, as if all should split again: If quoth he, (and he doubled his words with an Emphasis) I fall amongst Lovers, I will decipher to them that their God is a boy, as fond as he is blind; their Goddess a woman, inconstant's false, flattering, like the winds that rise in the shores of Lepanthus, which in the morning send forth gusts from the North, and in the Evening calms from the West● that their fancies are like April showers, begun with a Sun shine, & ended in a storm; their passions deep hells, their pleasures chimeras portraitures, sudden joys that appearing like juno, are nothing when Ixion toucheth them but dusky & fading clouds. Here he stopped, and took his scrip from his back, and his bottle from his side, and with such cates as he had, as lemons, apricocks and olives, he began a palmers banquet, which digesting with a cup of wine well tempered with water, after every draft he sighed out this Nunquam sera est ad bonos mores via. When he had taken his repast, casting up his eyes to heaven, as being thankful for his benefits and sorrowful for his sins, falling into a deep meditation, after he had a while lain as a man in a Trance, he started up suddenly, and with a half chéered countenance song out this Ode.  

The Palmer's Ode.  
Old Menalcas on a day,  
As in field this shepherd lay●  
Tuning of his o●en pipe,  
Which he hit with many a stripe;  
Said to Coridon that he  
Once was young and full of glee,  
Blithe and wanton was I then:  
Such desires follow men.  
As I lay and kept my sheep,  
Came the God that hateth sleep,  
Clad in armour all of fire,  
Hand in hand with Queen Desire:  
And with a dart that wounded nigh,  
Pierced my heart as I did lie:  
That when I woke I 'gan swear,  
Phillis beauty palm did bear.  
Up I start, forth went I,  
With her face to feed mine eye:  
There I saw Desire sit,  
That my heart with Love had hit,  
Laying forth bright Beauties hooks  
To entrap my gazing looks.  
Love I did and 'gan ●o woe,  
Pray and sigh, all would not do:  
Women when they take the toy  
Covet to be counted coy.  
Coy she was, and I 'gan court,  
She thought Love was but a sport.  
Profound Hell was in my thought,  
Such a pain Desire had wrought,  
That I sued with sighs and tears,  
Still ingrate she stopped her ears,  
Till my youth I had spent.  
Last a passion of Repent,  
Told me flat that Desire,  
Was a br●nd of loves fire,  
Which consumeth men in thrall,  
Virtue, youth, wit, and all.  
At this saw back I start,  
Bet Desire from my heart,  
shook of Love and made an ●th,  
To be enemy to both.  
Old I was when thus I fled,  
Such fond ●oyes as cloyed my hea●.  
But this I learned at virtues ga●e,  
The way to good is never late.  
Nunquam sera est ad bonos mores via.   
As soon as he had ended his Ode, he fell to his old principle Nunquam sera est: and confirming it with a sigh, he rose up, & was ready to departed towards Bergamo to take up his lodging, for the s●nne was declining towards the West.  
But I desirous to search further into this passionate Palmer, crossed him the way with this salutation: Palm●r (for so thy apparel discovers) and penitent, if thy inward heart agree with thy outward passions; if my ques●ions may not aggravate thy grief, nor my demand be tedious to thy travels, let me crave of courtesy whither thou dost bend the end of thy pilgrimage, that if thou be'st stepped awry, I may direct thee, or if thou knowest the country, I may wish boon fortune to thy journey; for I have all my life time coveted to be faithful to my friends and courteous to strangers. The Palmer amazed at my sudden salutation stepped back and be●● his bro●es, as if he feared some prejudice, or were offended at my presence; but when h●e saw me weaponless, and without company, and yet so affable in words a●d debonair in exterior courtesies as might import a Gentleman, he devoutly moved his bonnet of grey, and m●de this reply.  
Gentleman (for no less you seem) if the flower may be known by smell, or the man by his words. I am a Palmer, discovered by my grey, and a penitent, if you note my grief, which sorrow is as effectual as my attire is little counterfeit, the direction of my journey is not to jerusalem: for my faith tells me, Christ can d●aw as great favour down in England as in jericho: and prayers are not heard for the place, but in the behalf of the person heartily repentant. My native home is England, the end of my journey is Venice, where I mean to visit an old friend of mine, an Eng●ishman, to whom I have been long time indebted, and now mean partly to repay with such store as I have bought with hard expe●ience. This night I will r●st in the next village, and thus I hope sir you rest satisfied.  
This answer of the Palmer made me the more desirous to inquire into his state, that I intreted him I might be host to such a guest: and seeing I was resident in Bergamo, where that night he mean● to harbour, such lodging as a country Gentleman could afford, and such che●re as such a village might on the sudden yield, should be at his command.  
Well could this Palmer skill of courtesy, and returning me many thanks, vouched of my proffer, and was willing to take my house for his Inn. As we passed on the way, we chanced to fall into prattle thus. Sir (quoth I) if I might wi●h many questions not be offensive, I would feign be inquisitive to know, as you have passed along France, Germany, the Rind, and part of Italy, what you have noted worthy of memory. Moving his cap as a man that was passing courteous, he answered thus: I tell you sir (quoth he) as a foolish question merits silence, so a familiar demand craves a friendly reply of duty, although Zeno the philosopher counted it more honour to be a silent naturalist, than an eloquent Orator. But as I am not a Gymnosophist to jangle at every Sophistical Objection, so I am not a severe Stoic to answer but by Syllables, and therefore thus to your question.  
After I had cut from Dover to Calais, I remembered what old Homer writ of Ulysses, that he coveted, not only to see strange Countries, but with a deep insight to have a view into the manners of men: so I thought as I passed through Paris, not only to please mine eye, which the curious Architecture of the building, but wi●h the diverse disposition of the inhabitants. I f●unde therefore the Court (for I aim first at the fairest) to have a King fit for so royal a Regiment, if he had ●eene as perfect in true Religion, as politic in Martial Discipline, th● Cour●●ers, they as Aris●ippus faw●de vpo● Dyonisius, turning like to the Chameleon into the likeness of every Object that the King proffered to their humorous conceits, for if the king smiled every one in the Court was in his jollity, if he frowned, their plumes fell like the peacocks feathers, so that their outward presence depended on his inward passions. Generally so, but particularly thus; the French Gentlemen are amorous, as soon persuaded by the beauty of their mistress, to make a brawl, as for the maintenance of religion, to enter ●rmes; their eyes are like Salamander stones, that fire at the sight of every flame; their hearts as queasy as the minerals of Aetna that burn at the heat of the sun, and are quenched with the puff of every wind. They count it Courtlike to spend their youth in courting of Ladies, and their age in repen●ing of sins, yet more forward in the one, than devout in the other. They bandy glances upon every face, and as though they would approve every passion for a principle, they set down the period with a deep sigh: yet, as the breath of a man upon st●●le no sooner lighteth on but it leapeth off, is the beginning and ending of their loves. Thus much for th●i● amours. Now for their a●ms, they be hardy soldiers and r●s●l●●e. For their faith, friendship, religion, or other particular qualities, for there is a league betwixt us & them: I will spare to speak, least in b●ing Satirical, I should plod too far with Diogenes, or in flattering their faults or their follies, I should claw a fools shoulder with Daws in Terence, skipping therefore from them to the Germans. Nay stay sir (quoth I) before you pass the Alps, give me leave to hold you an hour still in Lions: for though you be a Palmer and religious, yet I hope such deep devotion rested not in you, but an ounce of Venus favours hung in your eyes, and when you had sp●nt the morning in orisons, you could in the afternoon lend a glance to a fair Lady. The eagle soars not so high in the air, but ●e can spy a little fish in the sea, the sun in Cancer goes retrograde, the coldest clime hath his summer, and Apollo was neu●r so stoical, but sem●l in anno he could let fall a smile; and the most severe pilgrim or palmer hath an eye well 〈◊〉 a heart, and a look to lend to beauty as a thought to bend to Theology. Therefore I pray you what think you of the French women: at this question although his gravity was great, y●t with a pleasant countenance he made this reply: although fire is hot as well in the coldest region of the North, as in the furthest Southern parallel, the grass of the same colour in Egypt as it is in jewry, and women wheresoever they be br●d be mala necessaria, yet though their general essence be all one as coming from Eva, and therefore froward, inconstant, light, amorous, deceitfully and quid non, better deciphered by Mantuan than I can make description of: yet as the Diamonds in India be more hard than the Cornish s●on●s in England, as the margarites of the west are more orient than the pearls of the Sou●h, so women's affections are ●ffected after the disposition of the clime wherein they are borne although Auycen in his Aphorisms sets down this conclusion, that thorns no where grow without pricks, nor nettles without stings; but leaving off these preambles, thus to your question. The women in France generally as concerning the exterior ●iniam●nts of their outward perfection, are beautiful, as being westernly seated near great Britain where nature si●s & hatcheth beauteous paramours: yet although nature naturans hath showed her cunning in their purtraiturs, as women that think nothing perfect that Art hath not polished, they have drugs of Alexandria, minerals of Egypt, waters from Tharsu●, paintings from Spain: and what to do forsooth? To make them more beautiful than virtuous, and more pleasing in the eyes of men than delightful in the sight of God, this is but their exterior vanity that blemisheth their inward virtues, if they have any, but more to their interior inclination. Some, as if they were votaries unto Venus, and at their nativities had no other influence, take no pleasure but in amorous passions no delight but in madrigales of love, wetting Cupid's winge● with rose-water, and tricking up his quiver with sweet perfumes, they set out their faces as fowlers do their daring glasses, that the Larks that soar highest may stoop soonest, and assoon as the poor loving fo●les are wrapped within their nets, than they sue with sighs, and plead with Sonnets, feign tears, & paint out passions to win her, that seeming to be coy, comes at the first lure: for when they see young novices entrapped, than the French dames are like to the people Hyperborei that spurning liquorice with their feet, secretly slake their hunger with the juice thereof; so they outwardly seeming to contemn their suitors motions, stand in deadly fear, lest they should leave off their amorous passions: so that they have love in their eyelids, so slenderly tacked on by fancy, as it drops off with every dream, and is shaked off with every vain slumber. Some of them are as Sappho was, subtle to allure, & slippery to deceive, having their hearts made of wax ready to receive every impression, not content till they have as many lovers as their hearts have entrance for love, and those are like to pumice stones that are light & full of holes. Some are as inconstant as Cressyda, that be Troilus never so true, yet, out of sight out of mind: and as soon as Diomedes gins to court, she like Venetian traffic is for his penny, currant à currendo, sterling coin passable from man to man in way of exchange. Others are as Lydia, cruel, whose hearts are hammered in the forge of pride, thinking themselves too good for all, and none worthy of them, and yet oft times nestling all day in the sun with the beetle, are at night contented with a cowsherd for shelter. These have eyes of Basilisks, that are prejudicial to every object, and hearts of Adamant not any way to be pierced: and yet I think, not dying maids, nor leading Apes in hell: for Vesta's sacrifice ceased long since in Rome, and Virgins are as rare as black swans, opportunity is ● sore plea in Venus' Court, able, I tell you, to overthrow the coyest she that is: I could infer more particular instances, and distinguish more at large of the French Gentlewomen: but let me leave them to their humorous vanities, and resolve ●ur selves, that Ireland doth not only bring forth wolves, nor Egypt Crocodiles, nor Barbaris Leopards, nor Franc● such qualified women, but as the earth yéeldes weeds as well in the lowest valleys, as in the highest mountains, so women are universally mala necessaria, wheresoever they be ●yther bred or brought up. With this conclusive period he breathed him: & I could not but smile to see the palmer shake his head at the fondness of women, as a man that had been galled with their ingratitude. Well, after he had paused a little, he left France, and began to talk of Germany, and that was thus: After I had left Lions, I passed up the Alp●●, and coasted into Germany, where, as I found the Country seated under a cold clime, so I perceived the people highminded and fuller of words than of courtesy, given more to drink than to devotion: and y●t sundry places stuffed with schisms and heresies, as people that delight to be factious: there might you see their interior vanities more than their outward apparel did import, and oft times their vaunts more than their manhood: for love, as I saw Venus of no great account, yet she had there a temple, and though they did not beautify it with jewels, they plainly powered forth such Orisons as did bewray, though they could not court it as the French did with art, yet their just was no less, nor their lives more honest. Because the people were little affable, I grew not so far inquisitive into their manners and customs, but sicco pede past them over, so that I traveled up as far as Vienna, where I saw a thing worthy of memory. In a Ualley between two high mountains topped with trees of marvelous verdure, whereby ran a fountain pleasant as well for the murmur of the streams, as for the sweetness of waters, there was situated a little lodge artificialy built, and at the door, a man of very great gravity and no less age, sa●e leaning upon his staff, so to take the benefit of the air & the sun, his hairs were as white as the threads of silk in Arabia, or as the Palm trees on the mount Libanus; many years had made furrows in his face, where experience face and seemed to tell forth oracles: devotion appeared in his habit, & his outward cloth discovered his inward heart, that the old Hermit seemed in the world a resolute despiser of the world: standing a while and wondering at this old man, at last all reverence done that his years did require, or my youth was bound unto, after salutations I questioned him of the order of his life, who answered me with such courtesy and humility as I perceived in his words the perfect Idea of a mortified man: after sundry questions broken with pro & contra, at last he took me by the hand & carried me into his cell, where I found not those Vtensilia which Tully says are necessary to be in every cottage, but I found books and th●t of theology, a drinking cup, and that was full of water: a dead man's skull, an hour glass, and a Bible, thus only was his house garnished. After he had sat down a little, he looked me very earnestly in the face, as a man that had some skill in physiognomy, to censure of the inward qualities by the outward appearance, at last in ●ough high Dutch verses he thus breached out his opinion, which I drew thus into blank verse.  

The hermits first exordium.  
Here look my son for no vainglorious shows  
Of royal apparition for the eye,  
Humble and m●eke befitteth men of years,  
Behold my cell built in a silent shade,  
Holding content for poverty and peace,  
And in my lodge is fealty and faith,  
Labour and love united in one league.  
I want not, for my mind affordeth wealth●  
I know not envy, for I climb not high:  
Thus do I live, and thus I mean to die.   
Then he stepped to his shelf, and takes down a death's head, whereon looking as a man that meditated upon some deep matter, he shook his head, and the tears standing in his ●yes, he prosecuted his matter thus.  
If that the world presents illusions,  
Or Satan seeks to puff me up with pomp,  
As man is frail and apt to follow pride:  
Then see my son where I have in my cell,  
A dead man's skull which calls this strait to mind  
That as this is, so must my ending be.  
When then I see that earth to earth must pass,  
I sigh, and say, all flesh is like to grass.  
After he had thus explained the reason why he kept the dead man's skull in his Cell, he reached to his hour glass, and upon that he began thus to descant.  
If care to live, or sweet delight in life,  
As man desires to see out many days,  
Draws me to listen to the flattering world:  
Then see my glass which swiftly out doth run,  
Compared to man, who dies ere he gins.  
This tells me, time slacks not his posting course,  
But as the glass runs out with every hour,  
Some in their youth, some in their weakest age,  
All sure to die, but no man knows his time.  
By this I think, how vain a thing is man,  
Whose longest life is likened to a spar.  
Lastly, he took his Bible in his hand, whereupon leaving his arm he amplified thus.  
When Sat●an seeks to si●t me with his wiles,  
Or proudly dares to give a fierce assault,  
To make a shipwreck of my faith with fears:  
Then armed at all points to withstand the foe  
With holy armour: here's the martial sword:  
This book, this bible, this two edged blade,  
Whose sweet content pierceth the gates of hell:  
Decyphring laws and discipline of war,  
To overthrow the strength of Satan's iarr●.  
Thus the Hermit discovered to me the secrets of his Cell: and after, that I should be privy to all his Pathetical conceits, he brought forth a few roots, and such s●mple diet as he had, to confirm that he tied Nature every way within hit limits: wondering at the method he used in his Cell, after I had taken my repast with him, as we met courteously, we parted friendly; he with exhortations to beware of youth's follies; I with thanks and reverence to his age● years, for his grave and fatherly persuasion: so I went from his Cell to Vienna, and from thence coasted up into the borders of Italy.  
The Palmer had scarce named Italy, but we were come to my house, where I gave him such entertainment, as either the ability of my substance, the plenty of the Country, or the shortness of the time could afford: and because I would every wa● grace him, I brought down my wife to give him a royal welcome; a favour seldom showed in Italy: yet because he was a Palmer and his profession valued beauty at a light price, I did him that grace. To be short, at last we sat down to supper, and there past the time with such pleasing chat, as the pleasant Palmer pleased to confer upon. Supper done, I desired the Palmer to discourse (if it were not offensive) what reason moved him to direct his Pilgrimage only to Venice? Raising himself up with a smiling countenance he made this reply.  
Courteous Gentleman, for so much your affable and liberal disposition doth approve. jupiter when he was entertained by poor Baucis, accounted ingratitude so heinous, as he turned their cottage to a Temple, and made them Sacrificers at his Altars: Hospitality is so precious, as no price may value. Then, if I should not grant any lawful demand, I might seem as little pliant to humanity, as you liable to courtesy: and therefore if the Gentlewoman your wife and you will sit up to hear the discourses of a traveler, I will first rehearse you an English History acted and evented in my Country of England: but for that the Gentleman is yet living I will shadow his name, although I manifest his follies; and when I have made relation I will show why I directed the course of my Pilgrimage only to Venice. My Wife by his countenance seemed to be marvelous content, and myself kept silence: Whereupon the Palmer began as followeth.  

The Palmers Tale.  
IN those days when Palmer●● reigned King of great Britain, famoused for his deeds of Chivalry, there dwelled in the City of Caerbranck; a Gentleman of an ancient house, called Francisco a man whose parentage though it were worshipful, yet it was not endued with much wealth: in somuch that his learning was better than his revenues, & his wit more beneficial than his substance. This Signior Francisco desirous to bend the course of his compass to some peaceable Port, spread no more cloth in the wind than might make easy sail, least hoisting up too hastily above the main yard, some sudden gust might make him founder in the deep. Though he were young yet he was not rash with Icarus to soar into the sky, but to cry out with old Dedalus, Medium tenere tutissimum: treading his shoe without any slip. He was so generally loved of the Citizens, that the richest Merchant or gravest Burghmaster would not refuse to grant him his daughter in marriage, hoping more of his ensuing fortunes, than of his present substance. At last, casting his eye on a Gentleman's daughter that dwelled not far from Caerbranck, he fell in love, and prosecuted his suit with such affable courtesy, as the maid considering the virtue and wit of the man, was content to set up her rest with him, so that her father's consent might be at the knitting up of the match. Francisco thinking himself cocksure, as a man that hoped his credit in the City might carry away more than a country Gentleman's daughter, finding her father on a day at fit opportunity, he made the motion about the grant of his daughter's marriage. The old churl that listened with both ears to such a question, did not in this in utramuis aurem dormire: but leaning on his elbow, made present answer, that her dowry required a greater feoffinent than his lands were able to afford. And upon that, without farther debating of t●e matter, he rose up, and hied him home, whether as soon as he came, he called his daughter before him, whose name was Isabel, to whom he uttered these words; Why housewife quoth he, are you so idle tasked, that you stand upon thorns while you have a husband? are you no sooner hatched with the Lapwing, but you will run away with the shell on your head? Soon pricks the tree that will prove a thorn, and a Girl that loves too soon, will repent too late. What a husband? Why the Maids in Rome durst not look at Venus' temple till they were thirty, nor went they unmasked till they were married; that neither their beauties might allure other, nor they glance their eyes on every wanton. I tell thee fond Girl, when Nilus overfloweth before his time, Egypt is plagued with a dearth: the trees that blossom in February, are nipped with the frosts in May; untimely fruits had never good fortune, & young Gentlewomen that are wooed and won ere they be wise, sorrow and repent before they be old. What seest thou in Francisco, that thine eye must choose, and thy heart must fancy? Is he beautiful? Why fond Girl, what the eye liketh at morn, it hateth at night: Love is like a havyn, but a blaze; and Beauty, why how can I better compare it than to the gorgeous Cedar, that is only for show and nothing for profit; to the apples of Tantalus, that are precious in the eye, and dust in the hand; to the star Artophilex, that is most bright, but fitteth not for any compass; so young men that stand upon their outward portraiture. I tell thee they are prejudicial: Demophon was fair, but how dealt he with Phillis? Aeneas was a brave man but a dissembler: fond girl, all are but little worth, if they be not wealthy. And I pray thee, what substance hath Francisco to endue thee with? Hast thou not heard, that want breaks amity, that love beginneth in gold and endeth in beggary; that such as marry but to a fair face, tie themselves oft to a foul bargain? And what wilt thou do with a husband that is not able to maintain thee? buy forsooth a dram of pleasure with a pound of sorrow, and a pint of content with a whole tun of prejudicial displeasures? But why do I cast stones into the air, or breathe my words into the wind; when to persuade a woman from her will is to roll Sisyphus stone; or to hale a headstrong Girl from love, is to tie the Furies again in fetters. Therefore housewife, to prevent all misfortunes, I will be your jailer. And with that, he carried her in and shut her up in his own chamber, not giving her leave to departed but when his key gave her licence: yet at last she so cunningly dissembled, that she got thus far liberty, not to be close prisoner, but to walk about the house; yet every night he shut up her clothes, that no nightly fear of her escape might hinder his broken slumbers.  
Where leaving her, let ●s return to Francisco; who to his sorrow heard of all these hard fortunes: and being pensive was full of many passions, but almost in despair; as a man that durst not come nigh her Father's door, nor send any letters whereby to comfort his Mistress, or to lay any plot of her liberty: for no sooner any stranger came thither, but he suspitio●s they came from Francisco, first sent up his Daughter into her chamber; then as watchful as Argus with all his eyes, he pried into every particular gesture and behaviour of the party: and if any jealous humour took him in the head, he would not only be very inquisitive with cutting questions, but would strain courtesies and search them very narrowly, whether they had ●●ie letters or no to his Daughter Isabel.  
This narrow inquisition made the poor Gentleman almost frantic, that he turned over Anacreon, Ovid de Ar●● amend●, and all books that might teach him any sleights of love: but for all their principles, his own wit served him for the best shift, and that was happily begun & fortunately ended thus; It chanced that as he walked thus in his muses, fetching the compass of his conceit beyond the Moon, he met with a poor woman that from door to door sought her living by charity. The woman as her customs was, began her exordium with I pray good Master, & so forth, hoping to find the Gentleman as liberal, as he was full of gracious favours: neither did she miss of her imagination; for he that thought her likely to be drawn on to the executing of his purpose, conceited this, that gold was as good as glue to knit her to any practice whatsoever, & therefore out with his purse, and clapped her in the hand with a French crown. This unaccustomed reward made made her more frank of her curtsies, that every rag reached the Gentleman a reverence with promise of many prayers for his health. He that harped on another string took the woman by the hand, & sitting down upon the green grass, discoursed unto her from point to point the beginning & sequel of his loves, and how by no means (except by her) he could convey any letter. The beggar desirous to do the Gentleman any pleasure, said she was ready to take any pains that might redound to his content. Whereupon he replied thus; Then mother, thou shalt go to yonder Abbey which is her father's house, & when thou comest thither use thy wont eloquence to entreat for thine alms: if the master of the house be present, show thy passport, and seem very passionate: but if he be absent or out of the way, then, oh then mother, look about if thou seest Diana masking in the shape of a Virgin, if thou spiest Venus, nay one more beautiful than loves goddess, & I tell thee she is my love fair Isabel, whom thou shalt discern from her other sister, thus: her visage is fair, containing as great resemblance of virtue as lineaments of beauty, & yet I tell thee she is full of favour, whether thou respects the outward portraiture or inward perfection: her eye like the diamond, & so pointed that it pierceth to the quick, yet so chaste in the motion as therein is seen as in a mirror courtesy tempered with a virtuous disdain: her countenance is the very map of modesty, and to give thee a more near mark, if thou findest her in the way, thou shalt see her more liberal to bestow, than thou pitiful to demand, her name is Isabella: to her from me shalt thou carry a letter, folded up every way like thy passport, with a greasy backside, and a great seal. If cunningly and closely thou canst thus convey unto her the tenure of my mind, when thou bringest me an answer, I will give thee a brace of Angels. The poor woman was glad of this proffer, and thereupon promised to venture a joint, but she would further him in his loves: whereupon she followed him to his chamber, & the whiles he writ a letter to this effect.  
Signior Francisco to fair Isabel.  
WHen I note fair Isabel the extremity of thy fortunes and measure the passions of my Love, I find that Venus hath made thee constant to requited my miseries; and that where the greatest onset is given by fortune, there is strongest defence made by affection: for I heard that thy father suspicious, or rather jealous of our late united sympathy, doth watch like Argos over Io, not suffering thee to pass beyond the reach of his eye, unless (as he thinks) thou shouldest overreach thyself. His mind is like the Tapers in janus Temple, that set once on fire burn till they consume themselves; his thoughts like the Sun beams, that search every secret. Thus watching thee he overwaketh himself; and yet I hope profiteth as little as they which gaze on the flames of Actna, which vanish out of their sight in smoke.  
I have heard them say (fair Isabella) that as the Diamonds are tried by cutting of Glass, the Topas by biding the force of the Andu●ile, the Sethin Wood by the hardness, so women's excellence is discovered in their constancy. Then if the period of all their virtues' consist in this, that they take in love by months, and let it slip by minutes, that as the Tortoise they creep pedetentim, and when they come to their rest, wil● hardly be removed. I hope thou wilt confirm in thy loves the very pattern of feminine loyalty, having no motion in thy thoughts, but fancy, and no affection, but to thy Francisco. In that I am stopped from thy sight, I am deprived of the chiefest Organ of my life● having no sense in myself, perfect, in that I want the view of thy perfection, ready with sorrow to perish in despair, if resolved of thy constancy, I did not triumph in hope. Therefore now rests it in thee to salve all these sores and provide medicines for these dangerous maladies, that our passions appeased, we may end ou● harmony in the faithful union of two hearts. Thou seest love hath his shifts, and Venus' quiddities are most subtle sophistry, that he which is touched with beauty, is ever in league with opportunity: these principles are proved by the messenger, whose state discovers my restless thoughts, impatient of any longer repulse. I have therefore sought to overmatch thy father in policy, ●s he over strains us in jealousy, and seeing he seeks it, to let him find a knot in a rush; as therefore I have sent thee the sum of my passions in the form of a passport, so return me a reply wrapped in the same papery that as we are forced to cover our deceits in one shift, so here after we may unite our loves in one Sympathy: Appoint what I shall do to compass a private conference● Think I will account of the seas as Leander, of the wars as Troilus, of all dangers as a man resolved to attempt any peril, or break any prejudice for thy sake. Say, when, and where I shall meet thee, and so as I be●gunne passionately, I break off abruptly. Farewell.  
Thine in fatal resolution, Seigneur Francisco.  
AFter he had written the letter, and dispatched the messenger her mind was so fixed on the brace of Angels, that she stirred her old stumps till she came to the house of Seigneur Fregoso, who at that instant was walked abroad to take view of his pastures. She no sooner began her method of begging with a solemn prayer, and a pater noster. But Isabella, whose devotion was ever bend to pity the poor, came to the door, to see the necessity of the party, who began to salute her thus. Fair Mistress, whose virtues exceed your beauties, and yet I doubt not but you deem your perfection equivolent with the rarest paragons in Britain, as your eye receives the object of my misery, so let your heart have an insight into my extremities, who once was young● and then favoured by fortunes, now old and crossed by the destinies, driven when I am weakest to the wall, and when I am worst forced to hel●e the candle. Seeing then the faults of my youth hath forced the fall of mine age, and I am driven in the winter of min● years to abide the brunt of all storms, let the plenty of your youth p●ty the want of my decrepit state; and the rather, because my fortune was once as high as my fall is now low: for proof, sweet Mistress, see my passport, wherein you shall find many passions and much patience: at which period, making a courtesy, her very r●gges seemed to give Isabella reverence. She hearing the beggar insinuate with such a sensible preamble, thought the woman had had some good parts in her, and therefore took her certificate, which as soon as she had opened, and that she perceived it was Francisco's hand, she smiled, and yet bewrayed a passion with a blush. So that stepping from the woman, she went into her ●hamber, where she read it over with such pathetical impressions as every motion was entangled with a dilemma: for on the one side, the love of Francisco grounded more on his interior virtues, than his exterior beauties, gave such fierce assaults to the bulwark of her affection, as the Fort was ready to be yielded up, but that the fear of her father's displeasure armed with the instigations of nature drove her to meditate thus with herself.  
Now Isabella, Love and Fortune hath brought thee into a Labyrinth, thy thoughts are like to janus pictures, that present both peace and war, and thy mind like Venus' anvil, whereon is hammered both Fear and Hope. Sith then the chance lieth in thine own choice, do not with Medea see and allow of the best, and then follow the worst: but of two extremes, if they be Immediata, choose that may have least prejudice and most profile. Thy father is aged, and wise, and many years hath taught him much experience. The old Fox is more subtle than the young Cub, the buck more skilful to choose 〈◊〉 than the young sawnes. Men of age fear and foresee that which youth leapeth at with repentance. If then his grave wisdom exceeds thy green wit, and his ripened fruits ●hy sprouting blossoms, think if he speak for thy avail, as his principles are perfect, so they are grounded on Love and Nature. It is a near collo●, says he, is cut out of the own flesh, and the ●●ay of thy fortunes, is the staff of his life● no dou●t he sees with a more p●etting judgement into the life of Francisco: for thou overcome with fancy, censurest of all his actions with partiality. Francisco, though he be young and beautiful, yet his revenues are not answerable to his favours: the Cedar is fair, but unfruitful, the Volgo a bright stream, but without fish: men covet rather to plant the Olive for profit, than the Alder for beauty, and young Gentlewomen should rather fancy to live, than affect to lust: for love without Lands, is like to a fire without fuel, that for a while showeth a bright blaze, and in a moment dieth in his own cinders. Dost ●hou think this Isabella, that thine eye may not surfeit so with beauty, that the mind shall vomit up repentance: yes, ●or the fairest R●ses have pricks, the purest Lawns their moles, the brightest Diamonds their cracks, and the most beautiful men of the most imperfect conditions, for nature having care to polish the body so fair, overweenes herself in her excellency, that she leaves th●ir minds unperfect. Whither now Isabella, into absurd Aphorisms? what can thy father persuade thee to this, that the most glorious shells have not the most orient mar●arites, that the purest flowers have not the most perfect savours, that men, as they excel in proportion of body, so the● exceed in perfection of mind? Is not nature both curious and absolute, hiding the most virtuous minds in the most beautiful covertures. Why what of this fond girl? suppose these premises be granted, yet they infer no conclusion: for, suppose he be beautiful and virtuous, and his wit is equal with his parentage, yet he wants wealth to maintain love, and therefore says old Fregose not worthy of Isabella's love. Shall I then tie my affection to his lands or to his lineaments? to his riches or his qualities? are Venus' altars to be filled with gold or loyalty of hearts? Is the Sympathy of Cupid's consistory united in the abundance of coin? Or the absolute perfection of constancy? Ah Isabella, think this, that love brooketh no exception of want, that where fancy displays her colours there always either Plenty keeps her Court, or else Patience so tempers every extreme, that all defects are supplied with content. Upon this, as having a farther reach, and a deeper insight, she stepped hastily to her standish, and writ him this answer.  
Isabella to Francisco, health.  
ALthough the nature of a father, and the duty of a child might move me resolutely to reject thy letters, yet I received them, for that thou art Francisco and I Isabella, who were once private in affection, as now we are distant in places. But know, my father, whose command to me is a law of constraint, sets down this censure, that love without wealth is like to a Cedar tree without fruit, or to corn sown in the sands that withereth for want of moisture: and I have reason Francisco to deem of snow by the whiteness, and of tr●●s by the blossoms. The old man whose words are Oracles tells me that love that entereth in a moment, flieth out in a minute, that men's affections is like the dew upon a crystal, which no sooner lighteth on, but it leapeth off: their eyes with every glance make a new choice, and every look can command a sigh, having their hearts like Saltpetre, that fiereth at the first, and yet proveth but a flash, their thoughts r●aching as high as Cedar's, but as brittle as rods that break with every blast: had Car●hage b●ene bere●t of so famous a Virago: if the beauteous Trojan had b●ene as constant as he was comely? Had th● Queen of Poetry been pinched with so many passions, if the wanton ferry-man had been as faithful as he was fair. No Francisco, and therefore seeing the brightest blossoms are pestered with most caterpillars, the sweetest Roses with the sharpest pricks, the fairest Cambrics with the foulest stains, and men wi●h the best proportion, have commonly lest perfection. I ●ay fear to swallow the ●ooke, lest I find more ba●e i● the confection, than pleasure in the bait. But here let m● breath, and with sighs foresee mine own folly. Women, poor souls, are l●ke to the Hearts in Calabria, that knowing Dictannum to be deadly, yet bruise on it with greediness, resembling the ●ish Mugra, that seeing the hook bare, y●t swallows it with delight, so women foresee, yet do not prevent, knowing what is profitable● yet not esc●ewing the prejudice: so Francisco I see thy beauties, I know● thy wa●t, and I fear thy vanities, yet can I not but allow of all, w●re they the worst of all, because I find in my mind this principle; in Love is no lack. What should I ●rancesco covet to dally with ●he Mouse when the Cat stands by, or fill my letter full of needless ambages when my father like Argos setteth a hundred eyes to overpry my actions, while I am writing thy messenger stands at the door praying. Therefore lest I should hold her too long in her orisons, or keep the poor man too long in suspense; thus briefly, Be upon Thursday next at night hard by the Orchard under the greatest Oak, where expect my coming, and provide for our safe passage: for stood all the world on the one side, and thou on the other, Francisco should be my guide to direct me whither he pleased. Fail not then, unless thou be false to her that would have life fail, ere she falsify faith to thee.  
Not her own, because thine, Isabell.  
AS soon as she had dispatched her letter she came down, and delivered the letter folded in form of a passport to the messenger, giving her after her accustomed manner an alms, and closely clapped her in the fist with a brace of Angels, the woman thanking h●r good Master, and her good mistress, giving the house her benison, hied her back against to Francisco, whom sh● found sitting solitary in his chamber: no sooner did he spy her, but flinging out of his chair, he changed colour as a man in a doubtful ecstasy what should betid: yet conceiving good hope by her countynaunce, who smiled more at the remembrance of her reward ●han at any other conce●t, he took the letter and read it, wherein he found his humour so fitted, that he not only thanked the messenger, but gave her all the money in his purse, so that she returned so highly gratified, as never aft●r she was found to exercise h●r old occupation. But leaving her to the hope of her hus●●f●i● again to Francisco, who seeing the constant affection of his mistress, that neither the sour looks of her father, nor his hard threats could affright her, to make change of her fancy, that no disaster fortune could drive her to make shipwreck of her fixed affection, that the blustering storms of adversity might assault, but not sack the for●e of her constant resoltuion, he fell into this pleasing passion: Women (quoth he) whi● as they are heavens wealth, so they are earths miracles, framed by nature to despite beauty, adorned with the singularity of proportion, to shroud the excellence of all perfection, as far exceeding men in virtues as they excel them in beauties, resembling Angels in qualities, as they are, like to gods in perfectness, being purer in mind than in mould, and yet made of the purity of man: just they are, as giving love her due; constant, as holding Loyalty more precious than life; as hardly to be drawn from united affection, as the Salamanders fro the caverns of Aetna. Tush quoth Francisco, what should I say they be women? and therefore the continents of all excellence. In this pleasant humour he passed away the time, not slacking his business for provision against thursday at night; to the care of which affairs let us leave him and return to Isabella, who after she had sent her letter fell into a great dump, entering into the consideration of men's inconstancy, and of the fickleness of th●ir fancies, but all these meditations did sort to no ●ffect; whereupon sitting down, she took her Lute in her hand, and sung this Ode.  

Isabells' Ode.  
Sitting by a river side,  
Where a silent stream did glide,  
Banckt about with choice flowers,  
Such as spring from April showers,  
When fair Iris smiling sheaws  
All her riches in her dews,  
Thick leaved trees so were planted,  
As nor art nor nature wanted,  
Bordering all the broke with shade,  
As if Venus there had made  
By Flora's wile a curious bower  
To dally with her paramours.  
At this current as I gazed,  
Eyes entrapped, mind amazed,  
I might see in my ken,  
Such a flame as fireth men,  
Such a fire as doth fry,  
With one blaze both heart and ●ie,  
Such a heat as doth prove  
No heat like to heat of love.  
Bright she was, for 'twas a she  
That traced her steps towards me:  
On her head she ware a bay,  
To fence Phoebus' light away:  
In her face one might descry  
The curious beauty of the sky,  
Her eyes carried darts of fire,  
Feathered all with swift desire,  
Yet forth these fiery darts did pass  
Pearled tears as bright as glass,  
That wonder 'twas in her eine  
Fire and water should combine:  
If ●h'old saw did not borrow,  
Fire is love, and water sorrow,  
Down she sat pale and sad,  
No mirth in her looks she had,  
Face and eyes showed distress,  
Inward sighs discoursed no less:  
Head on hand might I see  
Elbow leaned on her knee,  
Last she breathed out this saw,  
Oh that love hath no law;  
Love enforceth with constraint,  
Love delighteth in complaint.  
Who so loves hates his life:  
For loves pe●ce is minds strife.  
Love doth frede on beauty's fare,  
Every dish saw●t with care:  
Chief women, reason why,  
Love is hatched in their eye:  
Thence it steppeth to the heart,  
There it poysonet● every part:  
Mind and heart, eye and thought,  
Till sweet love their woe● hath wrought.  
Then repentant they 'gan cry,  
Oh my heart ●hat trowed mine eye.  
Thus she said and then she rose,  
Face and mind both full of woes:  
Flinging thence with this saw,  
Fie on love that hath no law.   
Having finished her do, she heard that her father was come in; and therefore leaving her an ●●ous instruments, she fell to her labour, to confirm the old proue●be in her father's jealous head, Otia si ●ollas, periere Cupidinis arcu●: but as wary as she was, yet the old goose could spi● the gosling wink, and would not up any means trust her, but used his accustomed manner of restraint: yet, as it is impossible for the smoke to be concealed, or fire to be suppressed; so Fregoso could by no subtle drifts so war●ly watch his ●ra●s●ormed Io, but she found a M●rcurie to release her. For upon the thurs●ay lying in her bed with little intent to sleep, she offered many sighs to Venus that she would be ●●atresse to Morpheus that some dead slumber might possess all the house; which fell out accordingly, so that at midnight she rose up & finding her apparel shut up, she was feign to go without hose, only in her smock and her petticoat with her father's hat and an old cloak. Thus attired like Diana in her night géete, she marcheth down softly, where she found Francisco ready with a private and familiar friend of his to watch her coming forth, who casting his eye aside, & seeing one in a hat and a cloak, suspecting some treachery drew his sword, at which Isabel smiling she encountered him thus.  
Gentle sir, if you be as valiant as you seem cholaricke, or as martial as you would be thought hardy; set not upon a weaponless woman, lest in thinking to triumph in so mean a conquest, you be preiudicte with the taint of cowardice. 'twas never yet read, that warlike Mars drew his fawchion against lovely Venus ● were her offence never great, or his choler never so much. Therefore Gentleman if you be the man I take you, Isabella's Francisco, leave off your arms and fall to amours, and let your parley in them be as short, as the night is silent, and the time dangerous. Francisco seeing it was the Paramour of his affections, let fall his sword, and caught her in his arms, ready to fall in a swoon by a sudden ecstasy of joy: at last recovering his senses, he encountered her thus.  
Fair Isabel, Nature's overmatch in beauty, as you are Diana's superior in virtue: at the sight of this atti●e, I dre● my sword, as fearing some privy foe; but as soon as the view of your perfection glanced as an object to mine eye, I let fall mine arms, trembling as Actaeon did, that he had dared too far in gazing against so gorgeous a Goddess: yet ready in the defence of your sweet self, and rather than I would lose so rich a prize, not only to take up my weapons, but to encounter hand to hand with the stoutest champion in the world. Sir (quoth she) these protestations are now bootless: and therefore to be brief, thus (and with that the tears trickled down the vermilion of her cheeks, and she blubbered out this passion) O Francisco, thou mayst see by my attire the depth of my fancy, and in these homely robes mayst thou note the recklessness of my fortunes, that for thy love have strained a note too high in love. I offend nature as repugnant to my father, whose displeasure I have purchased to please thee; I have given a final farewell to my friends, to be thy familiar; I have lost all hope of preferment, to confirm the sympathy of both our desires: Ah Francisco, see I come thus poor in apparel, to make th●e rich in content. Now if hereafter (oh let me sigh at that, lest I be forced to repent too late) when thy eye is glutted with my beauty, and thy hot love proved soon told, thou beginst to hate her that thus loveth thee, and prove as Demophon did to Phillis, or as Aeneas did to Dido: what then may I do rejected, but accurse mi●e twne folly, that hath brought me to such hard fortunes. Give me leave Francisco, to fear what may fall: for men are as inconstant in performance, as cunning in practices. She could not fully discourse what she was ●bo●t to utter; but he broke off with this protestation. Ah Isabel, although the winds of Lepanthos are ever inconstant, the Chris●●oll ever brittle, the Polype ever changeable; yet measure not my mind by others motions, nor the depth of my affection by the fleeting of others fancies: for as there is a Topas that will yield to every stamp, so there is an Emerald that will yield to no impression. The self same Troy, as it had an Aeneas that was fickle, so it had a Troilus th●t was constant. Greece had a Pyramus, as it had a Demophon; and though some have been ingrateful, yet accuse not all to be unthankful: for when Francisco shall let his eye slip from thy beauty, or his thoughts from thy qualities, or his heart from thy virtues, or his whole self from ever honouring thee: then shall heaven cease to have stars, the earth trees, the world Clements, and every thing reversed shall fall to their former Chaos.  
Why then (quoth Isabel) to horseback, for fear the faith of two such Lovers be impeached by my father's wakeful iealouzie. And with that (poor woman) half naked as she was, she mounted, and as fast as horse would place away they post towards a town in the said Country of Britain called Dunecastrum. Where let us leave them in their false gallop, and return to old Fregoso, who rising early in the morning, and missing his Daughter, asked for her through the whole house, but seeing none could discover where she was, as assured of her escape, he cried out as a man half Lunatic, that he was by Francisco robbed of his only jewel. Whereupon in a despairing fury he caused all his men and his tenants to mount them, and to disperse themselves every one with hue and cry for the recovery of his daughter, he himself being horsed, and riding the ready way to Dunecastrum. Where he no sooner came, but fortune meaning to dally with the old doteard, and to present him a bone to gnaw on, brought it so to pass that as he came riding down the town, he met Francisco and his daughter coming from the Church, which although it piercte him to the quick, and strained every s●ring of his heart to the highest note of sorrow, yet he concealed it till he took his Inn; and then stumbling as fast as he could to the Mayors howl of the town, he revealed unto him the whole cause of his distress, requiring his favour for the clapping up of this unruly Gentleman, and to make the matter the more hamous, he accused him of felony, that he had not only contrary to the custom bereft him of his daughter against his will, but with his daughter had taken away certain pla●e. This evidence caused the Mayor strait guarded with his Officers to march down with Fregoso to the place where Isabel and her Francisco were at breakfast, little thinking poor souls such a sharp storm should follow so quiet a calm: but fortune would have it so. And therefore as they were carousing each to other in a sweet frolic of hoped for content, the Mayor rushed in, and apprehended him of felony; which drove the poor perplexed lovers into such a dump, that they s●ood as the pictures that Perseus with his shield turned into stones. Francisco presently with a sharp insight entered into the cause, and perceived it was the drift of the old fox his father in law: wherefore he took it with the more patience. But Isabel seeing her new husband so handled, fell in a swoon for sorrow, which could not prevail with the sergeant, but they conveyed him to prison, and her to the Mayor's house. As soon as this was done, Fregoso as a man careless what should become of them in a strange Country, took horse and road home, he passed melancholy, and these remained sorrowful, especially Isabel: who after she had almost blubbered out her eyes for grief, fell at length into this passion.  
Infortunate Isabel, and therefore infortunate because thy sorrows are more than thy years, and thy distress too heavy for the prime of thy youth. Are the heavens so unjust, the stars so dismal, the planets so injurious, that they have more contrary oppositions than favourable aspects? that their influence doth infuse more prejudice than they can infer profit? Then no doubt if their motions be so malign, Saturn conspiring with all his baleful signs, calculated the hour of thy birth full of disaster accidents. Ah Isabel, thou mayst see the birds that are hatched in Winter, are nipped with every storm; such as fly against the Sun are either scorched or blinded; & those that repugn again nature, are ever crossed by fortune. Thy father foresaw these evils, and warned thee by experience; thou reiectedst his counsel, and therefore art bitten with repentance: such as look not before they leap, oft fall into the ditch; and they that scorn their parents, cannot avoid punishment. The young Tigers follow the braying of their old sire, the tender Fawns choose their food by the old Buck: These brute beasts and without reason stray not from the limits of nature; thou a woman and endued with reason, art therefore thus sorrowful, because thou hast been unnatural.  
Whether now Isabel? What, like the shrubs of India parched with every storm? Wilt thou resemble the brooks of Caruia, that dry up with every Sunshine? Shall one blast of Fortune blemish all thy affection? one frown of thy father infringe thy love toward thy husband? Wilt thou be so inconstant at the first, that hast promised to be loyal ever? If thou be'st daunted on thy marriage day, thou wilt be fleeting hereafter. Didst thou not choose him for his virtues, and now wilt thou refuse him for hi● hard fortunes? Is he not thy husband? yes: and therefore more dear to thee than is thy Father. I Isabel, and upon that resolve, least having so faithful a Troilus, thou prove as hateful a Cressyda: sorrow Isabel, but not that thou hast followed Francisco: but that Francisco by thee is fallen into such misfortunes: seek to mitigate his maladies by thy patience, not to incense his grief with thy passions: courage is known in extremities, womanhood i● distress: and as the Chrysolit is proved in the fire, the diamond by the anvil; so love is tried, not by the favour of Fortune, but by the adversity of Time. Therefore Isabel, Feras, non culpes, quòd vitari non po●es, and with Tully resolve thus: Puto rerum humanarum nihil esse firmum: Ita nee in prosperis la●itia ghosts, nec in adversis dolore concides. With this she held he● peace and rested, silent, so behaving herself in the Mayor's house with such modesty and patience, that as they held her for a paragon of beauty, so they counted he● for a spectacle of virtue: thinking her outward proportion was far inferior to her inward perfection: so that generally she won the hearts of the whole house, in that they pitied her case, and wished her liberty. Insomuch that Francisco was the better used for her sake: who being imprisoned, grieved not at his own sinister mishap, but sorrowed for the fortune of Isabel, passing both day and night with many extreme passions, to think on the distress of his beloved paramour. Fortune who had wrought this tragedy, intending to show that her frunt is as full of favours as of frown●s; and that she holds a dimple in her cheek, as she hath a 〈◊〉 in her brow, began thus in a Comical vain to be pleasant. After many days were passed, and that the Mayor had e●●red into the good demenor o● them b●th, noting that it proceeded rather of ●he displeasure of her father, than for any special ●●sart of felony, seeing youth would have his swinge, and that as the minerals of Aetna stoove fire, as the leaves in Parthia burn with the Sun; so young years are incident to the heat of love, and affection will burst into such amorous parties. He, not as Chremes in Ter●nce, measuring the flames of youth by his dead cinders, but thinking of their present fortunes by the follies of his former age, called a Conventicle of his Brethren, and seeing there was none to give any further evidence, thought to let Francisco lose. Having their fr●e consent, the next day, 〈◊〉 Isabel with him, he went to the jail, where they heard such rare 〈◊〉 of the behaviour of Francisco, that they sorrowed not so much at his fortunes, as ●hey wondered at his ●ertues: for the jailer discoursed unto them, how as he was greatly passionate, so he used great patience, having this v●●s oft in his mouth 
Fortiter ille f●cit, ●q●i miser esse poorest.  That he was affable and courteous, winning all, and offending none, that all his house as they greeu●d at his imprisonment, would be sor●ie at his enlargement; not for envy of his person, but for sorrow of his absence. The jailor thus commending the Gentleman, conducted them to the chamberdoore where Francisco lay, whom they found in secret meditation with himself: therefore they stayed, and were silent auditors to his passions. The first word they heard him breath out with a sigh was this, 
Soasrir me playst, cur l'espoir me comfort.   
And with that taking a Cittern in his hand, saying this note 
Pour paruenir l'endure.  He warbled out this Ode.  

Francescos Ode.  
WH●n I look about the place  
Where sorrow nurseth up disgrace,  
Wrap● within a fold of cares,  
Whose distress no heart spares:  
Eyes might look, but see no light,  
Heart might think but on despite,  
Son did shine, but not on me:  
Sorrow said it may not be,  
That heart or eye should once possess  
Any salve to cure distress:  
For men in prison must suppose  
Their couches are the beds of woes.  
Seeing this I sighed then,  
Fortune thus should punish men.  
But when I called to ●●nd● her face  
For whose love I brook this place,  
St●rrie eyes whereat my sigh●,  
Did eclipse with much delight,  
Eyes that lighten and do shine,  
Bea●es of love that are divine,  
Lily cheeks whereon beside  
Buds of roses show their pride,  
Cherry lips which did speak  
Words that made all hearts to breaks;  
Words most sweet, for breath was sweet,  
Such perfume for love is meet.  
Precious words, as hard to tell  
Which more pleased wit or smell.  
When I saw my greatest pains  
Grow for her that beauty stains.  
Fortune thus I did reprove,  
Nothing grievefull grows from love.   
Having thus chanted over his Ode, he heard the chamber door open; whereupon he grew melanchol●e, but when he saw the goddess of his affection, on whose constant loyalty depended, the essence of his happiness, he started up as when lovesick Mars saw Venus entering his pavilion in triumph, entertaining them all generally with such affability, & her particularly with such courtesy, that he showed himself as full of nurture as of nature. Interchange of entertainment thus past between these two lovers, as well with emphasis of words as ecstasy of minds, concluding with streams of pathetical tears. The Mayor at la●● entered parley, & told Francisco, though his father in law had alleged felony against him, yet because he perceived that it rather proceeded of some secret revenge, than any manifest truth, and that no further evidence came to censure the allegation, he was content to set him at liberty, conditionally, Francisco should give his hand to be answerable to what hereafter in that behalf might be objected against him. These conditions accepted, Francisco was set ●t liberty, and he and Isabella, jointly together taking themselves to a little cottage, began to be as Cy●eronicall as they were amorous; with their hands thrift coveting to satisf●e their heart's thirst, and to be as diligent in labours, as they were affectionate in loves: so that the parish wherein they lived, so affected them for the course of their life, that they were counted the very mirrors of a democratical method: for he being a Scholar, and ●urst up in the Universities, resolved rather to ●iue by his wit, than any way to be pinched with want, thinking this old sentence to be true, that wishers and woulders were never good householders, therefore he applied himself to teaching of a School, where, by his industry he had, not only great favour, but got wealth to withstand fortune. Isabel, that she might seem no le●se profitable than her husband careful, fell to her needle, and wi●h her work ●ought to prevent the injury of necessity. Thus they laboured to maintain their loves, being as busy as b●es, and as true as Turtles, as desirous to satisfy the world with their desert, as to feed the humours of their own desires. Living thus in a league of united virtues, out of this mutual concord of confirmed perfection, they had a son answerable to their o●●e proportion, which did increase their amity, so as the ●ight of their young infant was a double ratifying of their affection. Fortune and Love thus joining in league to make these parties to forget the storms that had nipped the blossoms of their former years, addicted to the content of their loves this conclusion of bliss. After the term of five years Seigneur Fregoso hearing by sundry reports the fame of their forwardness, how Francisco co●●ted to be most loving to his daughter, and she most dutiful to him, and both strive to exceed one an other in loyalty, glad at this mutual agreement he fell from the fury of his former melancholy passions, and satisfied himself with a contented patience, that at l●st he directed letters to his son in law, that he should make repair to his house with his daughter. Which news was no s●●ner come to the ears of this married couple; but providing for all things necessary for the furniture of their voyage they pos●ed as fast as they could towards Caerbrancke, where speedily arriving at their father's house they found such friendly entertainment at the old man's hand, that they counted this smile of Fortune able to countervail all the contrary storms, that the adverse planets had inflicted upon them. Seated thus, as they thought, so surely, as no sinister chance, or dismal influence might remove. She that is constant in nothing but inconstancy, began in fair sky to produce a tempest thus.  
It so chanced that Francisco had necessary business to dispatch certain his urgent affairs at the chief city of that Island called Troyno●ant; thither wi●h l●aue of his father, and farewell to his wife, the departed after they were married seven years: where after he was arrived, knowing that he should make hi● abode there, for the space of some nine weeks he sold his horse and hired him a chamber, earnestly endeavouring to make speedy dispatch of his affairs, that he might the sooner enjoy the sight of his desired Isabel: for did he see any woman beautiful, he viewed her with a sigh, thinking how far his wife did surpass her in excellence: were the modesty of any woman well noted by her qualities it grieved him, he was not at home with his Isabel, who did excel them all in virtues.  
Thus he construed all to her perfection, having no vacant time, neither day nor night ●herein he did not ruminate on the perfection of his Isabell. As thus his thoughts were divided on his business, and on his wife, looking one day out at his Chamber window he espied a young Gentlewoman which looked out at a casement right opposite against his prospect, who fixed her eyes upon him with such cunning and artificial glances, as she showed in them a chaste disdain, 〈◊〉 yet a modest desire. Where (by the way Gentlemen) let me say this much, that our courtesans of Troyn●●●n● are far superior in artificial allurement to them of all the worl●, for although they have not the painting of It●lie, nor the charms of France, nor the jewels of Spain, yet they have in their eyes adamants that will draw youth 〈◊〉 the I●t the s●ra●e, or the sight of the Panther the 〈…〉 looks are like lu●es that will reclaim, and like Cypress apparitions, that can represent in them all motions: they contain modesty, mirth, chastity, wantonness, and what not, and she that holdeth in her eye most civility, hath oft in her heart most dishonesty, bring like the pyrie stone, that is, fire without and frost within. Such a one was this merry minion, whose honesty was as choice as Venus' chastity, being as fair as Helena and as faithless, as well featured as Cressida and as crafty; having an eye for ●uery passenger, a sigh for every lover, a smile for every one that veiled his bonnet: and because she loved the game well, a quiver for every woodman's arrow. This courtesan seeing this country Francisco was no other but a mere novice, & that so newly, that to use the old proverb, he had scarce séent the lions. She thought to entrap him and so arrest him with her amorous glances that she would wring him by the purse: whereupon every day she would out at her casement stand, and there discover her beauties. Francisco, who was like the Fly that delighted in the flame, and coveted to feed his eye on this beauteous Courtesan tilted at her with interchange of glances, and on a day to try the finesse of his wit, with a poetical fury, began thus to make a Canzone.  

Canzone.  
As then the Sun sat lordly in his pride,  
Not shadowed with the vale of any cloud:  
The Welkin had no rack that seemed to glide,  
No duskin vapour did bright Phoebus' shroud:  
No blemish did eclipse the beauteous sky  
From setting forth heavens secret searching eye.  
No blustering wind did shake the shady trees,  
Each leaf lay still and silent in the wood,  
The birds were musical, the labouring Bees  
That in the summer heap●● their winter's good,  
Plied to their hives sweet honey from those flowers,  
Whereout the serpent strengthens all his powers.  
The lion laid and stretched him in the lawns,  
No storm did hold the Leopard fro his prey,  
The fallow fields were full of wanton fawns,  
The plough-swains never saw a fairer day,  
For every beast and bird did take delight  
To see the quiet heavens to shine so bright.  
When thus the winds lay sleeping in the caue●,  
The air was silent in her concave sphere,  
And Neptune with a calm did please his slaves,  
Ready to wash the never drenched Bear:  
Then did the change of my affects begin,  
And wanton love assayed to snare me in,  
Leaning my back against a lofty pine,  
Whose top did check the pride of all the air,  
Fixing my thoughts, and with my thoughts mine eine  
Upon the sun, the fairest of all fair:  
What thing made God so fair as this, quoth I?  
And thus I mused until I darkt mine eye.  
Finding the sun too glorious for my sight,  
I glanced my look to shun so bright a lamp●,  
With that appear an object twice as bright,  
So gorgeous as my senses all were damp●.  
In Ida richer beauty did not win  
When lovely Venus showed her silver skin.  
Her pace was like to juno's pompous strains,  
When as she sweeps through heavens brass paved way,  
Her front was powdered through with azured veins,  
That twixt sweet Roses and fair lilies lay,  
Reflecting such a mixture from her face,  
As tainted Venus' beauty with disgrace.  
Artophilex the brightest of the stars  
Was not so orient as her crystal eyes,  
Wherein triumphant sat both peace and wars,  
From out whose arches such sweet favours flies,  
As might reclaims Mars in his highest rage,  
At beauties charge his fury to assuage.  
The diamond gleams not more reflecting lights  
Painted with fiery pyramids to shine,  
Than are those flames that burn●sh in our sights,  
Darting fire out the crystal of her eine,  
Able to set Narcissus' thoughts on fire  
Although he sw●re him foe to swerte desi●r.  
Gazing upon this leman with mine eye,  
I felt my sight vail● bonnet to her looks,  
So deep a passion to my heart did fly,  
As I was trap● within her luring looks,  
F●rst to confess before that I had done,  
Her beauty far more brighter than the Sun.   
Francisco having thus in a poetical humour pleased his fancy, when his leisure served him would to make proof of his constancy interchange amorous glances with this fair courtesan, whose name was Infida, thinking his inward affections were so surely grounded on the virtues of his Isabel, that no exterior proportion could effect any passion to the contrary: but at last he found by experience, that the fairest blossoms, are soon nipped with frost, the best fruit soon touched with Caterpillars, and the ripest wits most apt to be overthrown by love. Infida taught him with her looks to learn this, that the ●ie of the Basilisk pierceth with prejudice; that the 〈◊〉 of Celidonie is sweet, but it fretteth deadly; that Cyrces' cups were too strong for all antidotes, and women's flatteries too forcible to resist at voluntary: for she so snared him in the favours of her face, that his eye began to censure partially of her perfection, insomuch, that he thought her second to Isabel, if not superior. Dallying thus with beauty as the fly in the flame: Venus willing to show how forcible her influence was, so tempered with opportunity, that as Francisco walked abroad to take the air, he met with Infida gadding abroad with certain her companions, who like blazing stars showed the marks of inconstant minions; for she no sooner drew near Francisco, but dying her face with a Uermillion blush, and in a wanton ●ie hiding afained modesty, she saluted him with a low courtesy. Seigneur Francisco that could well skill to court all kind of degrees, lest he might then be thought to have little manners, returned, not only her courtesies with his bonnet, but taking Infida by the hand began thus. Fair mistress, and if mine eye be not deceived in so bright an object, mine overthwart neighbour: having often seen with delight, and coveted with desire to be acquainted with your sweet self; I can not now but gratulate fortune with many thanks that hath offered such fit opportunity to bring me to your presence, hoping I shall find you so friendly, as to crave that we may be more familiar. She that knew how to entertain such a young novice made him this cunning reply. Indeed sir, neighborhoode craves charity, and such affable Gentlemen as yourself deserves rather to be entertained with courtesy than rejected with disdain. Therefore sir, what private friendship mine honour or honesty may afford you above all (that hitherto I have known) shall command. Then Mist●rs (quoth he) for that every man counts it credit to have a patroness of his fortune's, and I am a mere stranger in this City: let me find such favour, that all my actions may be shrouded under your excellence, and carry the name of your servant, ready for requital of such gr●●ious countenance to unsheath my sword in the defence of my patroness for ever. She that had her humour ●itted with this motion, answered thus, with a l●●ke that had been able to have forced Troilus to have been tr●thlesse to his Cressida: How kindly I take it Seigneur Francisco, for so I understand your name, that you proffer your service to so mean a Mistress, the effectual favours that shall to my poor ability gratify your courtesy, shall manifest how I account of such a friend. Therefore from henceforth Infida intertai●s Francisco for her servant: & I (quoth he) accept of the beauteous Infida as my Mistress. Upon this they fell into other amorous pr●ttle which I lean off, and walked abroad while it was dinner time. Francisco still having his eye upon his new mistress, whose bea●ties he thought, if they were equally tempered with virtues, to exceade all that yet his eye had made survey of. Doting thus on this new face with a new fancy, he often wrong her by the hand, and broke o●f his sentences, with such deep sighs, that she perceived by the Weathercock where the wind blewe: returning such amorous passions, as she seemed as much entangled, as he was enamoured. Well, thinking now that she had baited her hook, she would not cease while she had fully caught the fish, she began thus to lay the train. When they were come near to the City gates, she stayed on a sudden, & straining him hard by the hand, and glancing a look from her eyes, as if she would both show favour, and crave affection, she began thus smilinglie to assault him.  
Servant, the Lawyers say the assumpsit is never good, where the party gives not somewhat in consideration; that service is void, where it is not made fast by some fee. Lest therefore your eye should make your mind variable as men's thoughts follow their sights, and their looks waver at the excellence of new objects, and so I lose such a servant: to tie you to that stake with an earnest, you shall this day be my guest at dinner. Then if hereafter you forget your mistress, I shall appeal at the bar of Loyalty, and so condemn you of lightness. Francisco that was tied by the eyes, & had his har● on his halfpenny, could not deny her● but with many thanks accepted of her motion, so that agreed they went all to Infidaes' house to dinner; where they had such cheer as could upon the sudden be provided. Infida giving him such friendly & familiar entertainment at his repast, aswell with sweet prattle, as with amorous glances, that he rested captive within the labyrinth of her flatteries. After dinner was done, that she might tie him from starting, she thought to set all her wits upon Ela. Therefore she took a Lute in her hand, and in an angelical harmony warbled out this conceited ditty.  

Infidas song.  
SWeet Adonis ' darest not glance thine eye  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
Upon thy Venus that must die,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy.   

See how sad thy Venu● lies,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell ●●y,  
Love in heart and tears in eyes,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vou●, mon bell amy.   

Thy face as fair as Paphos' brooks,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
Wherein fancy baits her hooks,  
je vous ●n pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy●   

Thy cheeks like cherries that do grow  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
Amongst the Western mounts of snow,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous mon bell amy.   

Thy lips vermilion, full of love,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
Thy neck as silver, white as dove,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy.   

Thine eyes like flames of holy fires,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
Burns all my thoughts with sweet desires,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy.   

All thy beauties sting my heart,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
I must die through Cupid's dart,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous mon bell amy.   

Wilt thou let thy Venus die,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
Adonis were unkind say I,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N●oseres vous, mon bell amy.   

To let fair Venus die for woe,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy,  
That doth love sweet Adonis so,  
je vous en pry, pity me:  
N'oseres vous, mon bell, mon bell,  
N'oseres vous, mon bell amy.   
While thus Infida sung her song, Francisco sat, as if with Orpheus' melody he had been enchanted, having his eyes fixed on her face, and his ears attendant on her Music, so that he yielded to that Siren which after forced him to a fatal shipwreck: Infida laying away her lute after fell to other prattle. But because it grew late in the afternoon, Francisco that was called away by his urgent affairs, t●●ke his leave: whereat Infida seemed very melancholy, which made our young scholar half mad yet with a solemn congee departing he went about his business: whereas our cunning Courtesan, seeing her novice gone, began to smile, and said to her companions, that she had made a good market that had caught such ● tame fool. Alas poor young Gentleman (quoth she) he is like to the leaves in Egypt, that as they spring without rain, so they burn at the sight of the fire: or to the swallows, that think every Sun shine a Summer's day. He was never long waiter in Venus' Court, that counts every smile a favour, and every laugh to be true love: but 'tis no matter, he hath store of pence, & I will sell him many passions, until I leave him as empty of coin, as myself is void of fancy. And thus leaving her i●●●ing at her new entertained servant, again to Francisco, who after he had made dispatch of his business, got him home to his lodging: where sitting solitary in his chamber, he began to call to remembrance the perfections of his new Mistress, the excellent proportion of her phisnomy, her stature, voice, gesture, virtues (as he thought) ruminating upon every part with a plaudite. At last, as he was in this pleasing suppose, he remembered his sweet Isabel, whose beauty and virtue was once so precious, that between his old love, and his new fancy, he fell into these passions. Ah Francisco, whether art thou carried with new conceits? shall thy fruits be more subjects to the Northern blasts, than thy blossoms? shall thy middle age be more full of folly, than thy tender years? wilt thou love in thy youth, and lust when thy days are half spent? Men say, that the Cedar, the elder it is, the straighter it grows; that Narcissus flowers the higher they spring, the more glorious is their hue: and so should Gentlemen as they exceed in years excel in virtues: but thou Francisco are like to the Halciones, which being hatched white as milk, grow to be as black as jet?; the young storks have a musical voice, ●ut the old a fearful sound. When thou wert of small age men honoured thee for thy qualities, & now in years, shall they hate thee for thy vices. But to what end tends this large preamble to check thy fondness, that must leave to love, and learn to lust? What leave to love Isabel, whose beauty is divine, whose virtues rare, whose chastity loyal, whose constancy untainted? And for whom? for the love of some unknown Courtesan. Consider this Francisco, Isabel for thy sake hath left her parents, forsaken her friends, rejected the world, and was content rather to brook poverty with thee, than possess wealth with her father. Is she not fair to content thine eye, virtuous to allure thy mind? nay, is she not thy wife, to whom thou art bound by law, love, and conscience: and yet wilt thou start from her? what from Isabel? Didst thou not vow that the heavens should be without lamps, the earth without ●eas●s, the world without Elements, before Isabel should be forsaken of her Francisco? And wilt thou prove as f●lse as she is faithful? Shall she like Dido cry out against Aeneas? like Phillis against Demophon? like Ariadne against Theseus? and thou be canonised in the Chronicles, for a man full of perjury. Oh consider Francisco whom thou shalt lose if thou losest Isabel, and what thou shalt gain, if thou winnest Infida: the one being a loving wife, the other a flattering Courtesan. Hast thou read Aristotle, and findest thou not in his Philosophy, this sentence set down. Omne animal irrationale ad sui similem diligendum natura dirigitur. And wilt thou that art a creature endued with reason as thou art, excelling them in wisdom, exceed them in vanities? Hast thou turned over the liberal sciences as a scholar, and amongst them all hast not found this general principle, that unity is the essence of amity, and yet wilt thou make a division in the greatest sympathy of all loves. Nay Francisco, art thou a Christian, and hast tasted of the sweet fruits of Theology, and hast not read this in holy writ●, penned down by that miracle of wisdom Solomon, th●● he which is wise should reject the strange woman, and not regard not the sw●etnesse of her flattery: 
Desire not the beauty of a strange woman in thy heart, nor be not entrapped in her eye lids:  
For through a whorish woman, a m●n is brought to a morsel of bread, and a woman will hunt for the precious life of a man.  
Can a man take fire in his bosom, & not be burnt? Or can a man tread upon coals, and not be scorched?  
So he that goeth to his neighbours wife, shall not be innocent whosoever toucheth her.  
Men do not despise a thief when he stealeth to satisfy his soul: but if he be found he shall restore seven fold or give all the substance of his house.  
But he that committeth adultery with a woman, he is destitute of understanding: he that doth it, destroyeth his own soul.  
He shall find a wound and dishooour, and his reproach shall never be put away.   
If then Francisco, theology tells thee such axioms, wilt thou strive against the stream? and with the dear feed against the wind? Wilt thou swallow up sin with greediness, that thou mayst be punished without repentance? No Francisco, home to the wife of thy youth, and drink the pleasant waters of thine own well. And what of all these frivolous circumstances? Wilt thou measure every action with philosophy, or every thought with Divinity? Then shalt thou live in the world, as a man hated in the world. What Francisco, he that is afraid of every bush, shall never prove good huntsman, and he that at every gu●t puts to the Lee shall never be good Navigator. Thou art now Francisco to be a Lover, not a Divine; to measure thy affections by Ovid's principles, not by rules of Theology: and time present wills thee to love Infida, when thou canst not look on Isabel, distance of place is a discharge of d●●i●, and men have their faults, as they are full of fancies. What the blind ●ates many a fly, and much water runs by the mill that the Miller never knows of; the evil that the eye s●es not the heart rues not, Castè si non cautè: Tush Francisco, Isabel hath not Lynceus eyes, to see so far. Therefore while thou art resident in London, enjoy the beauty of Infida, and when thou art at home only content thee with Isabel: so with a small fault shalt thou fully satisfy thine own affection. Thus Francisco soothed himself, and did In vtram●is aurem dormire, caring little for his good, as long as he might please his new Goddess; and making no exception of a wife, so he might be accepted of his paramour. To effect therefore the desired end of his affects, he made himself as neat and acquaint as might be, and hied him to his new Mistress house, to put in practice that which himself had purposed; whether in the afternoon arriving, he understood by her chamber maid that she was at home and solitary: by her therefore he was conducted to Infidas closet, where he found her seeming melancholy, and thus awaked her from her dumps.  
Fair Mistress, hail to your person, quiet to your thoughts and content to your desires. At my first coming into your chamber, seeing you sit so melancholy, I thought either Diana sat musing on the principles of her modesty, or Venus' malcontent dumping on her amours; for the show of your virtues represents the one, & the excellence of your beauties discovers the other: but at last when the glister of your beauty surpassing them both, reflected like the pride of Phoebus on my face, I perceived it was my good Mistress, that discontented sat in her dumps: wherefore as your bounden servant, if either my word or sword may free you from these passions, I am here ready in all actions howsoever prejudicial, to show the effect of my affection. Infida glad to see her Lover in this Labyrinth; wherein to bind him sure, she taking him by the hand, made this wily answer.  
Sweet servant, how discontent soever I seem, dismay not you; for your welcome is such as you can wish, or the sincerity of my heart afford: women's dumps grow not ever of a prejudicial mishap, but oftimes of some superficial melancholy, enforced with a frown, and shaken off with a smile; having sorrow in their faces, and pleasure in their heart; resembling the leaves of the liquorice, that when they are most full of d●aw without, are then most dry within. I tell you servant, women are wily cattle, & therefore have I chosen so g●●d a herdsman as yourself, that what our wantonness offends, your wisdom may amend. But trust me Francisco, were I wronged by Fortune, or injured by ●nie foe, the promise of such a Champion were sufficient to arm me with disdain against both: but rest satisfied, your presence hath banished all passi●●s: and therefore you may see servant, you are the Loadstone, by whose virtue my thoughts take all their direction. Being thus pleasant, she sat Francisco down by her, & hand in hand interchanged amorous glances. But he that was abashed to discover his mind, in that some sparks of honesty still remained in his heart, sat tormented with love and fear, pricked forward by the one to discourse his desires, kept back by the other from uttering his affections. Thus in a quandary, he sat like one of Medusa's changelings, till Infida seeing him in this sudden amaze, began thus to shake him out of his passions.  
Now Signior Francisco, I s●e the old adage is not always true, Consulenti nunqu●● caput doluit: for you that erst alleged persuasions of mirth, are now overgrown with melancholy. When a extreme Storm follows a pleasant calm, than the effects are Metaphusicall, and where such a violent dump of cares is sequence to such an ecstasy of joys, either I must attribute it to some apoplexy of senses, or some strange alteration of passions. Francisco the oven dammed up hath the greatest heat, fire suppressed is most forcible, the streams stopped, either break through or overflow; and sorrows concealed as they are most passionate, so they are most peremptory.  
What Francisco? spit on thy hand, and lay hold on thy heart, o●e pound of eat pays not an ounce of debt, a friend to reveal is a medicine to relieve, discover thy grief, and if I be not able to redress with wealth, although what I have, is at thy command, yet I will attempt with counsel, either to persuade thee from p●ssi●●s, or entreat thee to patience: say Francisco, and fear not, for as I will be a friendly counsellor, so I will be a faithful concealer. Our young Gentleman hearing Infida apply such legative plasters to his cutting corrosives, thought the patiented had great hope when the physician was so friendly, he therefore with a demure countenance beginning lover like his preamble with a deep sigh courted her thus.  
Fair Mistress (quoth he) if I fail in my speeches; think it is, because I faint in my passio●s, being as timorous t● offend as I am amorous to attempt, when the object is offered to the se●se, the sight i● hindered, Sensibil● sensui opposi●um, nulla fit sensatio: Mars could never play the Orator when he wrying Venus by the hands: nor Tulli● tell his tale when his thoughts were in Terentiaes' eyes: Lovers are like to the ●eba● blossoms that open with the dew, and sh●t with the sun, so they in presence of their Mistress have their to●gues tied, and their eyes open, pleading with the one, and being silent in the other, which one describeth thus.  
Altar in alterius iactantes ●●mina vultus,  
Quarebant taciti noster ubi esset amor.  
Therefore, sweet Infida, what my tongue utters not, think conceited in my heart, and then thus: since first my good fortune, if thou favourest me, or my adverse destinies, if I find the contrary, brought me to Troyno●ant, and that these over-daring eyes were entertained into those gorg●ous objects, know that Cupid lying at advantage so snared me in thy perfections, that e●er s●●ce every sense hath rested imperfect. For when I marked thy face, more beauteous than Venus, I 〈◊〉 it with a sigh, and mi●● eye portrayed it with a passion, when I noted thy virtues, the● my mind rested captive, when I heard thy wit, I did not only wo●der, but I was so wrapped in the labyrinth of thine excellence, that no star but I●fida could be the guide whereby to 〈◊〉 my course. 〈…〉 Mistress, you, and ●●ne but you, 〈…〉 of my aspersions, h●●bo●r 〈◊〉 in such a sweet body a 〈…〉, but do 〈◊〉 justice, let me have love for 〈◊〉, lest I complain● my 〈◊〉 ●ot to be equivalent to my 〈◊〉, and think my fortunes to be sharper thus my 〈◊〉. Thin●e Infida 〈◊〉 in affections, are but slight follies; Venus hath shrines to shadow her truants, and Cupid's wings are shelters for such as ●●●ter far to content their thoughts. 〈◊〉 unseen, are ●●lfe pardoned; and Law requires not chastity, but that her soldiers 〈…〉. Then think (〈◊〉 Infida) if thou gr●unt my desire, how careful I will be of thy honour, rather ready to abide the prejudice of life, than to br●●ke the disparagement of thy fame: In am therefore of my loyal service, gra●●t me that sweet gift, which as it gins in amity, can no way take 〈◊〉 but in death: otherwise I shall be forced to accurse my fortunes, accuse thy frowardness, and expect no other 〈◊〉, but a life full of miseries, or a death full of martyrdom. With this passion ending his plea, he dissolved into such ●●ghes, that it discovered his inward affection ●o● to be less th●● his outward protestation. Infida noting the perplexity of her Lover, conceited his grief with great joy: yet that she might not be thought t●o forward, she seemed thus froward; and although her thoughts were more than his desires, and that her mind was no less than his motion, yet pulling her hand from his, she made this frow●ing reply.  
What Francisco, when the Tiger hunteth for his prey, doth he then hide his claws? Is the pyrit sto●e the● most hot, when it looketh most cold? Are men so subtle, that when they seem most holy, they are farthest from god, can they under the shadow of virtue cover ●he substance of vanity, & like janus be double faced, to present both faith & flattery. I had thought (servant) when I entertained thee for thy courtesy: I should not have had occasion to shake thee off for thy boldness: nor ●●en I lik●e thee for thy affable simplicity I should ha●e ●●sliked thee for thy secret subtlety: What Francisco, to de●●re such a gra●t as may, i● thou wert wise, neither stand with thy honesty to intent, nor with my honour to effect. Tell me Francisco, hath either my countenance been so ouerc●●teous, that it mig●● promise such small curiosity, or my looks so lascivious that thou mightest hope to find me sol●●ish, or my actions so wavering, or my disposition so full of vanity that my honour might seem soon to be assaulted, & soon sacked. If I have (Francisco) been faulty in these follies, then will I seek to amend wherein thou sayest I have made offence; if not, but that thou thinkest, for that I am a woman, I am eas●e to be won, with promises of love and protestations of loyalty, thou art (sweet servant) in a wrong box, and sittest far beside the c●shion; for I pass of my honour more than life, & covet rather to have the title of honesty, than the dignity of a diadems cease then, unless thou wilt surcease to have my favour, and content● thee with this● that Infida allows of thee for love, not for lust: & yet if she should tread her shoe awry, would rather yield the spoil of her honour to h●r servant, than to the greatest prince of the world. Francisco, though he was a novice in these affairs, and was nipped on the head with this sharp repulse, yet he was not so to take the shower for the first storm, nor so ill a woodman to give over the chase at the first default, but that he prosecuted his purpose thus. I am sorry (fair goddess of my devotion) if my presumption hath given any offence to my sweet mistress, for rather than I should but procure a frown in her forehead: I would have a deep wound in my own heart, coveting rather to suppress my passions with death, than to disparaged my credit with so g●●d a patroness. Therefore although my destinies be extreme, my affection great, and my loves such as can take no end, but in your favours, yet I rest upon this, Infida hath commanded me to cease, and I will not dare so much as to prosecute my suit, although every passion should be a purgatory, and every days denial a months punishment in hell: with that he set down his period with such a sigh, that as the Mariners say, a man would have thought all would have split again. This cunning Courtesan being afraid, with this check to have quatted the queasy stomach of her lover, de●irous to draw to her that with both hands, which she had thrust away with her little finger, began to be pleasant with Francisco, thus.  
What seru●nt, are you such a fresh water soldier, that you faint at the first skirmish? fear not man, you have not to deal with Mars, but with Venus ● and her darts of denial as they prick sharp, so th●y pierce little● and her thunderbolts do affright, not prejudice. Fear not man, a woman's heart and her tongue are not relatives; 'tis not ever true, that what the heart thinketh the tongue clacketh. Venus' storms are tempered with Rose water, and when she hath the greatest wrinkle in her ●rowe, than she hath the sweetest dimple in her chin: be blithe man, a faint heart never won fair Lady. Francisco hearing hi● Mistress thus pleasant, took oppor●●nitie by the forehead, and dealt so with his Infida, that before he went all was well, she blushed not, nor he● bashed, but both made up their market with a fair of kisses: which sympathy of affections, bred the poor Gentleman's overthrow; for he was so snared in the wily trammels of her alluring flattery, that neither the remembrance of his Isabel, the care of his child, the favour of his friends, or the fear of his discredit, could in any wise hale him from that hell, whereinto through his own folly, he was fallen.  
Where, by the way (Gentlemen) let us note the subtlety of these Sirens, that with their false harmony persuade, and then prejudice; who bewitch like Calypso, ● and enchant like Circe's, carrying a show as if they were Uestalls, and could with Amulia carry water in a siue, when they are flat Courtesans, as far from honesty, as they are from devotion. At the first, they carry a fair show, resembling Calisto, who hide her vanities with Diana's vail, having in their looks a coy disdain, but in their hearts a boat desire, denying with the tongue, and enticing with their looks, rejecting in words, and alluring in gestures, and such a one (gentlemen) was Infida, who so plied Francisco with her flattering fawns, that as the iron follows the adamant, the straw the jet, and the Helitropion the beams of the sun, so his actions were directed after her eye, and what she said stood for a principle, insomuch, that he was not only ready in all submiss humours to please her fancies, but willing for the least word of offence, to draw his weapon against the stoutest champion in all Troynovant. Thus seated in her beauty he lived a long while, forgetting his return to Ca●rbrancke, till on a day sitting musing with himself, he fell into a deep consideration of his former fortunes and present follies; whereupon taking his Lute in his hand he song this Roundley.  

Francescoes Roundeley.  
Sitting and sighing in my secret muse.  
As once Apollo did surprised with love,  
Noting the slippery ways young years do use  
What fond affects the prime of youth doth move,  
With bitter tears despairing I do cry,  
W● worth the faults and follies of mine eye.  
When wanton age the blossoms of my time  
Drew me to gaze upon the gorgeous sight  
That beauty pompous in her highest prime,  
Presents to tangle men with sweet delight,  
Then with despairing tear●s ●y thoughts do cri●,  
W● worth the faults and folly's of 〈◊〉 ●i●.   

When I s●r●eid the riches of her looks,  
Whereout flew fl●●es of never quenched desire,  
Wherein lay baits, that Venus' snares with ●ookes.  
Oh where proud Cupid s●te all armed with fire:  
Then touched with love my inw●rd soul● did cri●,  
W● worth the faults and follies of mi●●●i●.   

The milk-white Galaxia of her 〈◊〉,  
Where love doth dance lafoy voltas of his ski●●,  
Like to the Temple where true lovers vow  
To follow what shall please their Mistress wi●●,  
Noting her i●orie front, 〈◊〉 do I cry,  
W● worth the faul●s and follies of mi●e ●i●.   

Her face like silver Luna in her shin●,  
All tainted through with bright Vermilion str●i●es,  
Like lilies dipped in Bacchus' choicest wine,  
Powdered and inters●●●d with az●rde de v●ines,  
Delighting in their pride now may I cri●●  
W● worth the faults and folly's of mi●e ●i●.   

The golden wires that checkers in the d●y,  
Inferior to the ●resses of her 〈◊〉,  
Her amber tra●ells did my heart dis●●y,  
That when I look I durst not over d●●●:  
Proud of her pride now am I f●rst to cri●.  
W● worth the faults and follies of mi●e ●i●.   

These fading beauties drew me ●n to sin  
Nature's great riches fra●de my bitter ruth,  
These were the traps that love did snare me in,  
Oh, these, and none but these have wracked my youth,  
Misled by them I may despairing cry.  
woe worth the faults and follies of mine eye.   

By these I slipped from virtues holy track,  
That leads unto the highest crystal sphere,  
By these I fell to vanity and wrack,  
And as a man forlorn with sin and fear,  
Despair and sorrow doth constrain me cry,  
woe worth the faults and follies of mine eye.   
Although this sonnet was of his ready invention, and that he uttered it in bitterness of mind, yet after he had passed over his melancholy, and from his solitary was fallen into company, he forgot this pathetical impression of virtue, and like the dog did redire ad vomitum, and fell to his own vomit, resembling those Grecians, that with Ulysses drinking of Cyrces' drugs, lost both form and memory: Well his affairs were done, his horse sold, and no other business now rested to hinder him from hying home, but his Mistress which was such a violent deteyner of his person, and thoughts, that there is no heaven but Infidaes' house, where although he pleasantly entered in with delight, yet cowardly he slipped away with repentance. Well, leaving him to his new loves, at last to Isabella, who daily expected the coming home of ●er best beloved Francisco, thinking every hour a year, till she might see him, in whom rested all h●r content. But whe● (poor soul) she could neither ●éede her sight with his presence, nor her ears with his letters, she began to lower and grew so discontent, that she fell into a fever. Fortune that meant to ●rie her patience thought to pro●u● her with these tragical news: It was told her by certain Gentlemen her friends, who were her husband's private familiars, that he meant to sojourn most part of the year in Troynovant: one blunt fellow amongst the rest that was plain and without falsehood, told her the whole cause of his residence, how ●ee was in love with a m●st beautiful Gentlewoman called Infida, and that so deeply, that no persuasion might revoke him from that alluring courtesan. At this Isabella made no account, but took it as a frivolous tale, and thought the worse of such as buzzed such fantastical follies into h●r ears, but when the general report of his misdemeanours were bruited abroad throughout all Caerbrancke, then with blushing cheeks, she hide her head, & gre●uing at his follies, and her own fortunes, smothered the flames of her sorrows with inward conceit, but outwardly withs●●●d such in satirical terms as did inveigh against the honesty of Francisco, so that she won great commendations of all for her loyalty and constancy, yet when she was gotten secret by herself, her heart full of sorrowful passions, and her eyes full of tears, she began to meditate with herself of the prime of her youth vowed to Francisco, how she forshake father, friends and Country to be paramour unto her heart's paragon. The vows he made, when he carried her away in the night, the solemn promises and protestations that were uttered. When she had pondered all these things, than she called to mind Aeneas, Demophon and Theseus, and matched them with Dido, Phillis and Ariadne, and at last sighed thus: And shall it be so between Isabel and Francisco? No, think n●t so (fond woman) let not jealousy blind thee, whom love hath indne● with such a piercing insight: for as there is no content to the sweetness of love, so there is no despair to the prejudice of jealousy: whereupon to shake off all fancies, she ●ooke her Cithern in her hand, and song this verse out of Ariosto.  
Che piu felice é pui i●condo stato,  
Che viver pui dolce é pui beato  
Sarui di servire uno amoroso cuore,  
Che d'esser in seruitu d'amore,  
Se non fusse huomo sempr● stimulato,  
Da quella rio timore, da quella frenezia,  
Da quella rabbia, della i●lozia.  
Yet as women are constant, so they are easy to believe, especially truth, and so it fell out with Isabella, for she (poor soul) could take no rest, so was her ha●d troubled with these ●●wes, hammering a thousand humours in her brain how she might know the certainty of his follies, and how she might reclaim him for his new entertained affection. She considered with herself, that men allure Doves by the beauty of the house, and reclaim hawks by the fairness of the lure, and that love joined with virtue, were able to recall the most straggling A●neas to make sails again to Carthage. Tush quoth she to herself, suppose he be fallen in Love with a courtesan, and that beauty hath given him the brave: what shall I utterly condemn him? No, as he was not the first, so he shall not be the last: what youth will have his swinge, the briar will be full of prickles, the nettle will have his sting, and youth his amours: men must love and will love, though it be both against l●w and reason; a crooked sien will prove a strait tr●e, the juniper is sour when it is a twig, and sweet when it is a tree; time changeth manners, and Francisco when he entereth into the conditions of a ●●attring Courtesan, will forsake her, and return penitent and more loving to his Isabel. Thus like a good wife she const●●●● all to the best, yet she thought to put him in mind of his return, and therefore she writ him a letter to this effect.  
Isabel to Francisco health.  
IF Penelope long●● for her Ulysses, think Isabel ●●sheth for her Francisco, as loyal to thee as she was constant to the wily Greek, and no less desirous to s●● thee in Caerbranck, than she to enjoy his presence in I●●●ca, watering my chéeckes with as many tears, as she her face with plaints, yet my Francisco, hoping I have no such cause 〈◊〉 she to increase her cares: for I have such resolution in thy constancy, that no Circe's with all her enchantments, no Calypso with all her sorceries, no Siren with all their melodies could pervert thee from thinking on thine Isabel, I know Francisco so deeply hath the faithful promise and loyal vows made & interchanged between us taken place in thy thoughts, that no time how long soever, no distance of place howsoever different, may alter that impression. But why 〈◊〉 I infer this needless insinuation to him, that no vanity can alienate from virtue: let me Francisco persuade th●● with other circumstances. First my 〈◊〉, think how thine Isabel lies alone, measuring the time with sighs, & thine absence with passions; counting the day dismal, and the night full of sorrows; being every way discontent, because she is not content with her Francisco. The only comfort that I have in thine absence is thy child, who lies on his mother's knee, and smiles as wanton as his father when he was a wooer. But when the boy says: Mam, where is my dad, when will he come home? Then the calm of my content turneth to a present storm of piercing sorrow, that I am forced sometime to say: Unkind Francisco, that forgets his Isabell. I hope Francisco, it is thine affairs, not my faults that procureth this long delay. For if I knew my follies did any way offend thee, to rest thus long absent, I would punish myself both with outward and inward penance. But howsoever, I pray for thy health, and thy speedy return, and so Francisco farewell.  
Thine more than her own Isabell.  
SHe having thus finished her letters con●cied them speedily to Troynovant, where they were delivered to Francisco, who receiving them with a blush, went into his study, and there unripped the seals with a sigh, perceiving by the contents that Isabella had an inkling of his unkind loves, which drive him into a great quandary, that deeply entering into the insight of his lascivious life, he began to feel a remorse in his conscience, how grievously he hath offended her, that had so faithfully loved him. Oh, quoth he, shall I be so ingrate as to quittance affection with fraud? So unkind as to weigh down love with discourtesy, to give her a weed that presents me a flower, and to beat her with nettles that perfumes me with roses, consider with thyself Francisco, how deeply thou dost sin: First, thou offendest thy God in choosing so wanton a goddess; then, thou dost wrong thy wife, in preferring an inconstant courtesan before so faithful a paramour: yet Francisco, thy harvest is in the grass, thou mayest stop at the brim, because thou hast never touched the bottom. What? men may fall, but to wallow in wickedness is a double fault. Therefore recall thyself, reclaim thy affections: Is not thine Isabella as fair? Oh, if she be not, yet she is more virtuous. Is not Isabella so witty as Infida? Oh but she is more constant, and then art thou so mad, to prefer dross before Gold, a common Flint before a choice Diamonds, vice before virtue, fading beauty before the excellence of inward qualilties: No, shake off these follies, and say, both in mouth & in heart; None like Isabella; This he s●ide by himself, but when he went forth of his Chamber, and spied but his Mistress looking out of her window all this gear changed, and the case was altered: she called, and in he must, and there in a jest scofft at his wives Letters, taking his Infida in his arms, and saying, I will not leave this Troy for the chastest Penelope in the world.  
Thus he soothed himself in the sweetness of his sin, resembling the Leopards that feed on Marioran while they die, or the People Hyperborei, that sit so long and gaze against the Sun till they become blind; so he doted on the perfection of Infida, till it gr●we to his utter prejudice: for no reason could divert him from his damned intent, so had he drowned himself in the dregs of lust: insomuch that he conuted it no sin to ●ffend with so ●aire a Saint: alluding to the saying of the holy Father.  
Consuetudo peccandi, tollit sensum peccati.  
Thus did these two con●inue in the Sympathy of their sins, while p●●re Isabel rested her at home content in this, that at last he would be reclaimed, and till than she would use patience, seeing Nunquam sera est ad bonos mor●● via. Wallowing thus in the folds of their own follies, Fortune that meant to experience the force of Love, dealt thus conceiptedly; After these two Lovers had by the space of three years securely slumbered in the sweetness of their pleasures, and drunk with the surfeit of Content, thought no other heaven, but their own supposed happiness; as every storm hath his calm, and the greatest Springtide the deadest ebb, so fared it with Francisco: for so long w●nt the pot to the water, that at last it came broken home; and so long put he his hand into his purse, that at last the empty bottom returned him a Writ of Non est inventus; for well might the Devil da●ce there, for ever a cross to keep him back.  
Well, this Lover fuller of passions than of pence, began (when he entered into the consideration of his own estate) to mourn of the chine, and to hang the lip as one that for want of sounding had struck himself upon the Sands; yet he covered his inward sorrow with outward smiles, and like janus presented his Mistress with a merry look, when the other side of his visage was full of sorrows. But she that was as good as a touchstone to try metals, could strait spy by the last where the shoe wringde him: and seeing her Francisco was almost foundered, thought to see if a skilful Farrier might mend him; if not, like an unthankful Hackneyman she meant to turn him into the bare leas, and set him as a tired jade to pick a salad.  
Upon which determination, that she might do nothing rashly, she made inquiry 〈◊〉 his estate, what livings he had, what Lands to sell, how they were either tied by Statute, or I●tail●e? At last, through her secret a●d subtle inquisition, she found that all his corn was on the floore● that his she●pe were clipped, and the W●●ll fold; to be short, that what he had by his Wife could neither be sold nor mortgaged, and what he had of his own was spent upon her, that nothing was left for him to live upon but his wits. This news was such a cooling Card to this Courtesan, that the extreme heat of her love was already grown to be lukewarm: which Francisco might easily perceive; for at his arrival, his welcome was more strange, her looks more coy, his fare more slender, her glances less amorous: and she seemed to be Infida in proportion, but not in wont passions.  
This uncouth disdain made Francisco marvel, who yet had not entered into her deceipts, nor (being ●●mple of himself) had ever yet experienced a strumpet's subtlety; he imputed therefore his Mistress' coyness to the distemperature of her body, and thought that being not well, it was no wonder though she gave him the less welcome.  
Thus poor Novice did he construe every thing to the best, until Time presented him with the truth of the worst: for in short time, his hostess called for money, his creditors threatened him with an arrest, his clothes waxed thread bare, and there was no more coin in the mint to amend them. Whereupon on a day, sitting in a great dump by his Infida, who was as solemn as he was sorrowful, he burst forth into these speeches.  
I have read sweet Love in the Aphorisms of Philosophers, that heat suppressed is more violent, the stream stopped makes the greater Deluge, and passi●ns concealed, procure the deeper sorrows. Then if Contrariorum Contraria est r●●io, there is nothing better than a bosom friend with whom to confer upon the injury of fortune. Finding myself (my Infida) full of Pathemas as sting to the quick, invenymed with the Tarantula of heart sick torments, I think no medicine fit for my malady, than to be cu●ed by the musical harmony of thy friendly counsel. Know then Infida that Troynovant is a place of great expense, like the Serpent Hidaspis', that the more it sucks, the more it is a thirst, eating men alive as the Crocodile, and being a place of as dangerous allurement, as the seat where the Sirens sit and chant their prejudicial melody. It is to young Gentlemen, like the Labyrinth, whereout Theseus could not get without a thread, but here be such monstrous Minotaures as first devour the thread, and then the person. The Inns are like hotehouses, which by little and little sweat a man into a consumption; the host he carries a pint of wine in the one hand to welcome, but a poniard in the other to stab; and the hostess she hath smiles in her forehead, and provides good meat for her guests, but the sauce is costly, for it far exceeds the cates. If coin want, then either to Limbo, or else clap up a commodity (if so much credit be left) where he shall find such knots, as he will never be able without his utter prejudice to untie. Brokers, I leave them of, as too course ware to be mouthed wit● an honest man's tongue. These Mi●otaures fair Infida, have so eaten me up in this Labyrinth, as to be plain with thee that art my second self, I want, and am so far indebted to the Mercer and mine Hostess, as either thou must stand my friend to disburse so much money for me, or else I must departed from Troyno●ant, and so from thy sight, which how precious it is to me, I refer to thine own conscience; or for an Vltimum vale take up my lodging in the counter, which I know, as it would be uncouth to me, so it would be gréevefull to thee; and therefore now hangs my welfare in thy wil How loath I was to utter unto thee my want and sorrow, measure by my love; who wish rather death than thy discontent.  
Infida could scarce suffer him in so long a Period, and therefore with her forehead full of furrows, she made him this answer. And would you have me (sir) buy an ounce of pleasure with a cunne of mishaps, or reach after repentance with so high a rate: have I lent thee the blossoms of my youth, and delighted thee with the prime of my years? hast thou had the spoil of my virginity. and now wouldst thou have the sack of my substance? when thou hast withered my person, aymest thou at my wealth? No sir, no; know, that for the love of thee, I have cracked my credit, that never before was slained. I cannot look abroad without a blush, nor go with my neighbours without a frump, thou, and thy name is ever cast in my dish, my foes laugh, and my friend's sorrow to see my follies: wherefore seeing thou beginnest to pick a quarrel, and hereafter, when thine own base fortunes have brought thee to beggary ●ilt say, that Infida cost thee ●o many Crowns, and was thine overthrow: avaunt novice, home to thine own wife, who (poor Gentlewoman) sits and wants what thou consumest at Taverns. Thou hast had my despoil, and I fear I beat in my belly the token of too much love I ought thee. Yet content with this discredit, rather than to run into further extremity: get thee out of my d●●res, for from henceforth thou shalt never be welcome to Infida. And with that she ●●ung up, and went into her Chamber: Francisco would have made a reply, but she would not hear him, nor hold him any more ●hat: Whereupon with a strain his ear, he went to his lodging. There ruminating on the number of his follies, and the hardness of his fortunes, seeing his score great● his coin little, his credit less: weighing how hardly he had used his Isabella: at last leaning his head on his hand, with tears in his eyes, he began to be thus extremely passionate. Now Francisco piscator ictus sapit, experience is a true mistress, but she maketh her Scholars tread upon Thorns, hast thou not leapt into the ditch, which thou hast long foreseen, and bought that with repentance which thou hast so greedily desired to reap. Oh now thou seest the difference between love and lust: the one full of contented pleasure, the other of pleasing miseries: thy thoughts were feathered with fancy, and whether did they fly so far that they freed themselves, and thou rests consume●. Oh Francisco, what are women? If they be honest Saints, the purity of nature, the excellence of virtue, the perfection of earthly content. But if they be courtesans and strumpet's. Oh let me breath before I can utter the depth of such a monstrous description. They be in shape Angels, but in qualities devils, painted Sepulchres with rotten bones, their foreheads are Calendars of misfortunes, their eyes like comets, that when they sparkle foretell some fatal disparagement, they allure with amorous glances of lust, and kill with bitter looks of hate, they have dimples in their cheeks to deceive, and wrinkles in their browe● to betray, their lips are like honey combs, but who tasteth the drops is empoisoned; they are as cle●re as Crystal, but bruise them, and they are as infectious as the Diamond, their tears are like the Aconiton, that the Hydra wept; they present as Deiani●a shirts for presents, but who so puts them on, consumes like Hercules, they lay out the folds of their hair, and entangle men in their tresses, playing the horseleech, that sucketh while they burst; between their breasts i● the vale of destruction, and in their bed's o● there is sorrow, repentance, hell & despair. They consume man alive, and aim at his substance not his perfection; like eagles, that only fly thither, where the carrion is, they lead men to hell, and leave him at the gates. To ●e brief, they are ingrateful, perjured, untrue, inconstant, ●●e●ting, full of fraud, deceitful, and to conclude in one word, they be the very refuse of nature's extrements. Oh Francisco, what a Satirical invective hast thou uttered? I may best, quoth he, for I have bought every principle with a pound: What now rests for thee poor infortunate man? Thou hast yet left a means to end all these miseries, and that is this Draw thy rapier and so die, that with a manly resolution thou mayest prevent thy further misfortunes. Oh although thou hast ●inned, yet despairs not, though thou art●●nathema, yet prove not an Atheist, the mercy of God is above all his works, 〈…〉 balm. Home to thy wife, to the wife of thy youth Francisco, to Isabella, who with her patience will cover all thy follies: remember th●s man, Nunquam sera est ad bonos mores via.  
Thus he ended, and with very grief fell in a slumber. At this the Palmer breathed, and made a stop and a long period. His host desirous to hear out the end of Francescoes fortunes, wished him to go forward in his discourse. Pardon me Sir, quoth the Palmer, the night is late, and I have traveled all the day; my belly is full, and my bones would be at rest. Therefore for this time, let thus much suffice, and to morrow at our uprising, which shall be with the Sun. I will not only discourse unto you the end of Francescoes amours, of his return home to his wife, and his repentance, but manifest unto you the reason why I aimed my pilgrimage to Venice.  
The Gentleman and his Wife very loath to be tedious to the good Palmer, were content with his promise; and so taking up the candle lighted him to bedde● where we leave him. And therefore assoon as may be Gentlemen, look for Francescoes further fortunes, and after that my Farewell to follies, and then adieu to all amorous Pamphlets.   
FINIS.   

¶ Imprinted at London by Thomas Orwin for N. L. and john Busbie, and are to be sold at the West end of Paul's Church. 1590.   

●ra●ce●cos Fortunes: Or The second part of Green's Never too late.  
Wherein is discoursed the fall of Love, the bitter fruits of Folly's pleasure, and the repentant sorrows of a reformed man.  
Sero, sed serio.  
Robertus green in Artibus Magister.  
Imprinted at London for N.L. and john Busbie. 1590.   

To the right Worshipful Thomas Burnaby Esquire, Robert green wisheth increase of all honourable virtues.  
THe Athenians counted such men unworthy their Common wealth as were ingrateful: and Plato seeing an unthankful man prosper, said, see men of Greece the Gods are proved unjust; for they have laden a thistle with fruit. When (right Worshipful) these reasons entered into my reach, and that I saw how odious in elder time ingrateful men were to all estates and degrees; lest I might be stained with such a hateful blemish, having received many friendly, nay fatherly favours at your ●ands, I resolved to endeavour how I might show the depth of my affection towards your Worship, I found my ability was not answerable to my desires to proportionate equal requital to your deserts, so that I only thought to make thanks my pay mistress, and so pass over your good turn with the old proverb, God and Saint Francis thank you. Yet when I perceived great men had taken little gifts, I took heart at grass, and emboldened myself to present you with a Pamphlet of my penning, called my Nunquam sera est: which your Worship so gratefully accepted, measuring my will more than the worth; that having made my second part, wherein is discoursed the sequel of Francescoes further fortunes, I thought to shroud it under your patronage: I have discovered herein the other follies of his youth, and how at last, repentance stroke in him such a remorse, that his sorrow for his sins were more than the pleasures conceited in his vanities. I have from the love of a lascivious Courtesan, brought him to the Wife of his youth: the story necessary for young Gentlemen, and not offensive unto grave ears: for the most severe Stoic of all that seeks a knot in a rush, may herein find some sentence worth the marking. And though you as Virgil hold Ennius, yet you may out of his dross gather some gold. They which think there is no God to their Goddess, may here find that wanton loves are the ready paths to prejudice, and that effeminate follies are the efficient causes of dire disparagement, and that there is no jewel like the gift of an honest wife. But whatsoever it is, all is shrouded under your favour: which hoping you will as gratefully patronage as the former, I wish your Worship as many good fortunes as yourself can desire, or I imagine.  
Your Worship's adopted son in all humble duty to command. Robert Greene..   

●o the Gentlemen Readers health.  
IF (Gentlemen) I had not promised the further discourse of Francescos fortunes, this Pamphlet had not come to the press: but seeing promise was debt, and sundry made challenge at the Stationer's shop, that I should be a man of my word. To satisfy therefore all my well wishers, I have written what befell Francisco after he had forsaken his Infida, no great adventures, but you may see plotted down many passions full of repentant sorrows, and read many of his Sonnets that he made in remorse of mind; such as they be they are yours, or what my pen can do, but look for it in more deeper matters.  
Yours, Robert Greene.   

In laudem Authoris.  

THough wanton Horace writ of loves delight,  
And blythlie chanted of his lass,  
Bonny and bright as any glass:  
Yet did the Poet Odes and satires write,  
Wherein he taught fond youth  
That folly hatchethruth,  
And with his toys  
Mixed virtues joys:  
So by his works he reaped immortal praise.   

Let him that writes the fall of lovers fits,  
Of beauty and her scorching fires,  
And fancy and her fond desires:  
If unto virtues l●re he wrest his wits,  
And pen down follies fall,  
Whereto young youth is thrall,  
Have honour then  
To grace his pen:  
But envy lives too much in these our days.  
Richard Hake.  
Virtutis comes invidia.    

R. S.  

THe Bee is praised for labour, not for ease,  
The more she works the richer is her hive:  
The little Ant that teacheth man to thrive,  
Is famed for that her labours never cease.   

The more the fruit, more precious is the tree;  
The more the fish, more valued is the stream;  
The sweetest night when many stars do gleamed  
The better ground that brings most grain we se●.   

The more it works, the quicker is the wit●  
The more it writes, the better to be steemed:  
By labour ought men's wills and wits b● deemed,  
Though dreaming dunces do inveigh against it.   

But writ thou on, though Momus sit and frown,  
A Cart●rs jig is fittest for a Clown.  
Bonum quo communius, eo melius.    

Green's Never too late.  
Nunquam sera est ad bonos mores via.  
NO sooner did Phoebus burnish the heaven with his brightness, and decked in a glorious diadem of chrysolites, had mounted him on his Coach to lighten the Lamp that makes Flora beauteous, but the Palmer was up and at his Orisons, being as devout in his thoughts, as he was mindful of his travels: walking in the garden all alone, and seeing the Sun new peeping out of the East, he began to meditate with himself of the state of man, comparing his life to the length of a span, or the compass of the Sun, who rising bright and orient, continueth but his appointed course, and that ofttimes shadowed with so many Clouds, and strained with a sable vale of such thick fogs, that he is more darkened with storms than beautified with light: and if it fortune his shine is without blemish, yet he setteth and that more oft in a fold of Clouds, than in a clear Sky: so man bor●●●n the pride of beauty or pomp of wealth, be his honours equal with his fortunes, and he as happy as Augustus; yet his life hath but his limits, and that clogged with so many cares and crosses, that his days are more full of miseries than of pleasures, and his disaster mishaps are more than his prosperous fortunes: but if the stars grace him with all favourable aspects, and that he live full of content in many honours and much wealth, yet his prime hath his Autumn, his fair blossoms turns to tawny leaves, age will shake him by the shoulder, and nature will have his due, that at last he must set with the Sun, and perhaps in such a cloud of sin, as his rising may be in a storm of sorrows. Thus did the Palmer meditate with himself, ●éeing penitent for the follies of his youth, that at last thinking to be as musical to himself, as the birds were melodious, he chanced out this O●e.  

The penitent Palmer's Ode.  
Whilom in the winter's rage  
A Palmer old and full of age,  
Sat and thought upon his youth,  
With eyes, tears, and heart's ruth,  
Being all with cares yblent,  
When he thought on years misspent.  
When his follies came to mind,  
How fond love had made him blind,  
And wrapped him in a ●ield of wo●s,  
Shadowed with pleasures shoes,  
Then he sighed and said alas,  
Man is sin and flesh is grass,  
I thought my mistress hairs were gold●  
And in their locks my heart I fold:  
Her amber tresses were the sight  
That wrapped me in vain delight:  
Her ivory front, her pretty chin,  
Were stales that drew me on to sin:  
Her starry looks, her Crystal eyes,  
Brighter than the Suns arise:  
Sparkling pleasing flames on fire,  
Yoked my thoughts and my desire,  
That I 'gan cry ere I blind,  
Oh her eyes are paths to sin.  
H●r face was fair, her breath was sweet,  
All her looks for love was meet:  
But love is folly this I know.  
And beauty fadeth like to snowed  
Oh why should man delight in pride,  
Whose blossom like a dew doth glide:  
When these supposes touched my thought,  
That world was vain and beauty nought,  
I 'gan sigh and say alas,  
Man is sin and flesh is grass.   
The Palmer having ended this Ode, sat in a great dump in the garden, when his Host accompanied with his wife, desirous to hear out Francescos fortune, were come into the place and gave him the bon iorno thus. Courteous Palmer, a kind salute to waken you from your morning's meditation, I see you keep the proverb for a principle, to bed with the be and up with the Lark: no sooner the Sun in the Sky but you are at your Orisons, either ruminating passions or penance, either some old remembrance or some new reverse. Howsoever (gentle Palmer) 'tis no manners to enter to● far into your thoughts, and therefore leaving your secrets to yourself, Com● stat● la vos●ra signoria quest a matina. The Palmer that had learned a little broken Italian, seeing his honest host in such a merry mood, made this answer. Io sto bensignior di● merce, ringratiando●i sonnamenti di vostra grand cor●esia, holding it fi● for my fortunes to have many cares and little s●eepe, that my penance may be great sith my sins are many: long slumbers are for idle persons, not for penitent Palmers; and sweet dreams are no instances of hearty devotion; therefore do I watch with the mouse to argue myself miserable, and enjoin myself to much pains, because I am cumbered wi●h many passions. This morning entering into this garden's I saw by the works of nature the course of the world: for when I saw Flora's glory shut up in the soldes of I●is frowns, I began to consider that the pride of man was like the pomp of a flower, that to day glories in the field and to morrow is in the furnace; that we be like the flies Hemerae, that take life with the Sun and die with the dew; that our honours are compared to the blossoms of a Cedar, which vanish ere they begin to burnish, and all our triumphs like characters written in snow, that printed in a vapour, at the least Sun shine discover our vanity, for they are as soon melted as our pleasures are momentary. Tied by Fates to this ti●kle state, we have nothing more certain than to die, nor nothing more uncertain than the hour of death: and therefore when I call to mind the follies of my youth, how they have been tickled with vice, I eovet in the flower of mine years to repent and amend: for 
Nunquam sera est ad bonos mores via.   
You do well sir (quoth the Gentleman) in all your actions to consider the end; for he that forerepents, foresees many perrills● Had I witted is a great fault, and after wits are bitten with many sorrows: therefore such as grieve at their follies, & covet to prevent dangerous fortunes, they which take an antidote of grace against the deadly aconiton of sin, and with present remorse prevent ensuing vanities: such indeed, as they live well, shall die blessed. But leaving this humour till another time, you may see by our early rising how my wife and I were delighted with your evenings par●ie: for trust me sir, desire of Francescos further fortunes made us thus watchful, and therefore seeing the morning is grey and our longing great, and yet a good while to breakfast, if your leisure may afford so much, I pray you sit down and tell us what was the end of his loves, and the effects of his repentance. The Palmer very willing to pleasure his courteous host, sat him down in an Arbour and began thus.  

The Palmer's tale of Francisco.  
AS soon as Francisco awake from his slumber, and began to enter further into the consideration of Infidas cozenage, his heart throbd at his follies, and a present passion of his great misfortunes so pained him, that all perplexed he began again to sing his former song, and to say that women's thoughts were like to the leaves of a Da●e tree that change colours with the wind●, in a moment figuring out sorrow with tears, and in that instant deciphering pleasure with smiles: neither too resolute with the Stoics to yield to no passions, nor too absolute with the Esseni to surfeit with over much chastity: their desires (quoth he) resemble Aeolus' forehead, that next every storm contains a calm: their deeds are like Almanacs that decipher nothing but uncertainty; either too scrupulous with Daphne to contemn all, or too voluptuous with Venus to desire all; and strait neither flesh nor fish as the Porpus, but time pleasers, to content themselves with variety of fancies. In this humorous melancholy he arose up and ranged about the City, despairing of his estate as a man pennyless, and therefore impatient because he knew not how to redress his miseries: to rely upon the help of a Courtesan, he saw by experience was to hang hope in the air: to stand upon the favour of friends, that was bootless; for he had few in the City, as being but a stranger there, and such as he had were won with an Apple, trencher friends, ●nd therefore to be left with the puff of the least blast of adversities. To go home to his wife to fair Isabel, that was as hard a censure as the sentence of death, for shame of his follies made him ashamed to show his face to a woman of so high deserts. In this perplexity he passed over three or four days till his purse was clean empty, his score great, and his hostess would trust him for no more money, but threatened him, if present payment were not made, to lay him in prison. This news was hard to Francisco, that knew not how to avoid the prejudice, only his refuge was to prevent such a misfortune to carry his apparel to the Brokers, and with great loss to make money to pay for his diet: which once discharged, he walk● up and down as a man forlorn, having neither coin nor credit. Necessity that stingeth unto the quick, made him set his wits on the tenter, and to stretch his brains as high as Ela, to see how he could recover pence to defray his charges by any sinister means to salve his sorrows: the care of his parents and of his own honour persuaded him from making gain by labour: he had never been brought up to any mechanical course of life. Thus every way destitute of means to live, he sight out this old said saw, Miserrimum est fuisse beatum: yet at last, as extremities search very far, he called to mind that he was a scholar, and that although in these days Art wanted honour, and learning lacked his due, yet good letters were not brought to so low an ebb, but that there might some profit arise by them to procure his maintenance. In this humour he fell in amongst a company of Players, who persuaded him to try his wit in writing of Comedies, Tragedies, or Pastorals, and if he could perform any thing worth the stage, than they would largely reward him for his pains. Francisco glad of this motion, seeing a means to mitigate the extremity of his wa●●, thought it no dishonour to make gain of his wit, or to get profit by his pen● and therefore getting him home to his chamber writ a Comedy, which so generally pleased all the audience, that happy were those Actors in short time that could get any of his works, he grew so exquisite in that faculty. By this means his want was relieved, his credit in his host's house, recovered his apparel in greater bravery than it was, and his purse well lined with Crowns.  
At this discourse of Francisco, the Gentleman took his guest by the hand and broke off his tale thus. Now gentle Palmer, seeing we are fallen by course of prattle to parley of Plays, if without offence do me that favour to show me your judgement of Plays, Playmakers and Players. Although (quoth the Palmer) that some for being too lavish against that faculty, have for their satirical invectives been well canvased, yet seeing here is none but ourselves, and that I hope what you hear shall be ●roden under foot, I will flatly say what I can both even by reading and experience. The invention of Comedies were first found amongst the Greeks', and practised at Athens: some think by Menander whom Terence so highly commends in his Heautontimorumenon. The reason was, that under the ●ouert of such pleasant and Comical events, they aym●d at the overthrow of many vanities that then reigned in the City: for therein they painted out in the persons the course of the world, how either it was graced with honour, or discredited with vices: There might you see leveled out the vain life that boasting Thrases use, smoothed up with the self conceit of their own excellence; the miserable estate of covetous parents, that rather let their sons ●ast of any misfortunes, than to relieve them with the superfluity of their wealth: the portraiture of parasitical friends and flattering Gnatos, that only are time pleasers and trencher friends, which sooth young Gentlemen subtellie in their follies, as long as they may: Ex eorum sullo vivere was set out in lively colours. In those Comedies the abuse of Bawds that made sa●e of honest virgins, and lived by the spoil of women's honours, was deeply discovered. To be short, Lechery, Covetousness, Pride, self-love, disobedience of parents, and such vices predominant both in age and youth were shot at, not only with examples and instances to feed the eye, but with golden sentences of moral works to please the ear●. Thus did Menander win honour in Greece with his works, & reclaim both old & young for their vanities by the pleasant effects of his Comedies. After him this faculty grew to be famous in Rome, practised by Plautus, Terence, and other that excelled in this quality, all aiming as Menander did in all their worke● to suppress vice and advance virtue. Now, so highly were Comedies esteemed in those days, that men of great honour and grave account were the Actors, the Senate and the Consuls continually present, as auditors at all such sports, rewarding the Author with rich rewards, according to the excellency of the Comedy. Thus continued this faculty famous, till covetousness crept into the quality, and that mean men greedy of gains did fall to practise the acting of such Plays, and in the Theatre presented their Comedies but to such only, as rewarded them well for their pains: when thus Comedians grew to be mercenaries, than men of account left to practise such pastimes, and dis●ained to have their honours blemished with the stain of such base and vile gainest in so much that both Comedies and Tragedies grew to less account in Rome, in that the free sight of such sports was taken away by covetous desires: yet the people (who are delighted with such novelties and pastimes) made great resort, paid largely, and highly applauded their doings, in so much that the Actors by continual use grew not only excellent, but rich and insolent. Amongst whom in the days of Tully one Roscius grew to be of such exquisite perfection in his faculty, that he offered to contend with the Orators of that time in gesture, as they did in eloquence; boasting that he could express a passion in as many sundry actions, as Tully could discourse it in variety of phrases: yea so proud he grew by the daily applause of people, that he looked for honour and reverence to be done him in the streeres: which self conceit whe● Tully entered into with a piercing insight, he quipt at in this manner.  
It chanced that Roscius & he met at a dinner, both guests unto Archias the Poet, where the proud Comedian dared to make comparison with Tully: which insolency made the learned Orator to grow into these terms; why Roscius, art thou proud with Esop's Crow being 〈◊〉 w●●h ●he glory of others feathers● of thyself thou canst say nothings and if the Cobbler hath taught thee to say● ave Caesar, disdain not thy tutor, because thou pratest in a King's chamber: what sentence thou utterest on the stage, flows from the censure of our wits; and what sentence or conceit of the invention the people applaud for excellent, that comes from the secrets of our knowledge. I g●a●nt your action, though it be a kind of mechanical labour; yet well done t●s worthy of praise: but you worthless, if for so small a ●oy you wa●e proud. At this Roscius waxed red, a●d bewrayed his imperfection with silence: but this check of Tully could not keep others from the blemish of that fault, for it grew to a general vice amongst the Actors, to excel in ●●de as they did exceed in excellence, and to brave it in the streets, as they brag it on the stage● so that they reveld it in Rome in such costly robes, that they seemed rather men of great patrimony, than such as li●ed by the favour of the people. Whic● Publius Servilius very well noted; for he being the son of a Senator, and a man very valiant, met on a day with a player in the streets richly apparrelled● who so far forgot himself, that he took the wall of the young noble man● which Servilius taking in dis●aine, countercheck with ●his frump: My friend (quoth he) be not so brag of thy silken robes, for I saw them but yesterday make a gre●● show in a brokers shop. At this the one was ashamed, and the other smilde● and they which ●ea●d the ●uip●●augh● at the folly of the one & the wit of the other. Thus sir ●aue you heard my opinion briefly of plays, that Menander deuise● th●● for the suppressing of vanities, necessary in a common we●●●●, as long as they are uses in their right kind; the play makers worthy of ●onour for their Art: & pla●er●● men deserving both pray●e and profit, as long as they wa●●●●ther covetous nor insolent. I have caused you 〈◊〉 (quoth the gentleman) to make ● large digressiō● but y●u have resolved me in a matter that I long doubted of: and therefore I may 〈◊〉 again to Francisco. Why then thus quoth th● Palmer● After he grew excellent for making of Comedies, he wa●t not only brave, but full of Crowns: which Infida hearing of, and having intelligence what course of life he did take● thought to cast forth her lure to reclaim him, though by her unkindness he was proved haggard; for she thought that Francisco was such a ●ame fool that he would he brought to strike at any stolen, ●ecking herself therefore as gorgeously as she could, painting her face with the choice of all her drugs, she walk● abroad where she thought Francisco used to take the air; Love and Fortune joining in league so favoured her, that according to her desire she met him. At which encounter I guess, more for shame than love she blasht; and filled her countenance with such repentant remorse (yet having her looks full o● amorous glances) that she seemed like Venus, reconciling herself so froward Mars. The sight of Infida was pleasing in the eyes of Francisco, and almost as deadly as the basilisk: that had he not had about him Moly as Ulysses, he had been enchanted by the charms of that wily Circe's; but the abuse so stuck in his stomach that she had proffered him in his extremity, that he returned all her glances with a frown, and so parted. Infida was not ama●ed with his angry mood, as one that thought loves furnace of force to heat● the coldest Amethyst, and the swerte words of a woman as able to dr●w on desire, as the Sirens melody the passengers. What quoth she, though for a while he be choleric, Beauty is able to quench the ●●ame, as it sets hearts on fire; as Helen's faults angered Paris, so her favours pleased Paris: though she were false to Menelaus, ye● her fair made him brook her folly's: Women are privileged t● have their words and their wil●, and whom they kill with a ●rowne they can revive with ● smile. Tush, Francisco is not so froward, but he may he won, he is n● Saturnist to bear anger long, he is soon hot and soon cold, choleric and kind hearted; who though 〈◊〉 be scolded away with bitter words 〈◊〉 will be reclaimed again with sweet kisses● a woman's tears are Adamant, and men are no harder than Iron● and therefore may ●ee drawn to pity their passions. I will feign, fla●ter, and what not, to get again my Francisco; for his purse is full, and my coffers wax empty. In this humour taking pen and paper, she wrote a letter to him to this effect.  
Infida to Francisco wisheth what he wants in health or wealth.  
IF my outward penance (Francisco) could discover my inward passions, my sighe● bewray my sorrows, or my countenance my miseries, than should I look the most desolate of all, as I am the most distressed of all; and the furrows in my face ●ee numberless, as the griefs of my heart are matchless: But as the feathers of the Halciones glister most against the ●orest storm, and Nilus is most calm against a deluged so the sorrows of my mind are so great that they smother inwardly, though they mak● no outward appearance of mishap. All these miseries Francisco grow from the consideration of mine own discourtesies: for when I think of thy constancy, thy faith, thy ●●●ture, and thy beauty, and weigh with myself how all these unwed unto Infida, they were lost by the disloyalty of Infida: I ca●● i● in question, whether I had better despair and die, or in ●ope of thy favour linger o●● my life. Penance of free-will merits pardons of course, and griefs that grow from remorse, deserve to ●ee salved with ru●h. I confess Francisco that I wronged the●, and therefore I am wrong at y● hear●: but so doth the 〈◊〉 of thy perfection, & the excellence of thy ●●●tues 〈…〉 in my heart 〈◊〉 although th●● shouldest vow t● lo●th me. I 〈◊〉 cease to ●oue thee. O● consider, 〈◊〉 have their fault's 〈◊〉 their fo●l●e●, & act that in an hour which they rep●t a● their life alter. Though Mars & Ven●● 〈◊〉, they were friends after 〈◊〉 for 〈…〉 and forget Francisco then heartily, that I repent so deeply: grace thy Infida again with one smile, ease her impatient passions with thy sweet presence; and assure thyself she will satisfy with love, what she hath offended with folly. Bones that are broken & after set again, are the more stronger: where the Beech Tree is ●ut, there it grows most hard: reconciled friendship is the sweetest amity. Then be friends with thy Infida: look on her, and but visit her: and if she win not thy love with her words, and show herself so penitent that thou shalt pardon: then let her perish in her own misfortunes, and die for the want of thy favour. Farewell.  
Thine ever, despairing Infida.  
THis letter she sealed up and sent it by a secret friend to Francisco: who at the first, knowing from whence it came, would scarcely receive it; yet at last willing to hear what humour had made the Courtesan write unto him; he ●roke ●pe the seals and read the former contents: which when he had thoroughly perused● he found himself perplexed: for the cunning of her flattery made the poor man passionate. In somuch that sitting down with the letter in his hand; he began thus to meditate with himself.  
Why dost thou vouchsafe Francisco to look on her letters that is so lewd, to view her lines that are powdered with flattery, to hear her charms that seeks thy prejudice, to liste● to such a Calypso that alms only at thy substance, not at thy person? Wilt thou wer● poor her forehead was full of frowns, and in her loo●● sat the storms of disdain: but when the sees thou ●ast feathered thy ●est, & hast crowns in thy purse, she would play the hors-le●ch to ●uck away thy wealth: & n●w would she be 〈◊〉 heart's gold, while she ●est thee not one dra● of go●●e. Oh Francisco she ●ides her ●lawes, 〈◊〉 loomis ●or her pray with the ●y●er, she weeps with the Crocodile, and smiles with the Hi●na, and ●●●tters with the Panther, and under the couer● of a 〈…〉, shrouds the intent of thy ●a●e. Knowest thou not that a● the Marble dripps against rain, 〈◊〉 their tears fo●●poynt mischief, that the savours of a Courtesan are like the song● of the Grasshopper, that ever fortel some fatal disparagement, Beware then Francisco (Pisca●●● actu● s●pl●) she hath once burnt thee, fear fire with the Chil●● she hath crossed thee with disdain, covet not her with desi●●● h●●e h●●, ●or in loathing such a one thou lovest thy God. Return not with the dog to the vomit, wallow not with ●wine in the mire, foresee not the best & follow the worst. And 〈◊〉 Francisco trust me she is fair, bea●tifull and wise: I but with that a Courtesans perhaps she will now love thee faithfully if she do, fond man, is not her hearty liking, hateful lu●t● dangerous to thy body, and damnation to thy Soul. 'tis a saying not so common as true, that he which looketh continually against the Sun shall at la●● be blind●● that who so handleth pitch must needs be de●iled, the tree 〈◊〉 abideth many blasts, at last falleth by the Carpenter 〈◊〉, th● bird that striketh at every stolen cannot long escape the 〈◊〉, ●o long goeth the pitcher to the brooke● that at last it ●omes broken home, and he that securely swimmeth in 〈◊〉 shall surely be drowned in iniquity, who so ●indeth sins together shall never be never be unrevenged in the one, and he that delighteth to offend in youth, shall no doubt fe●le the punishment. Quod defir●ur n●n ●nfertur. Though GOD for a time suffer a man to wallow in his own wickedness, and to say unto his soul, Tush the Lord regardeth not the way of sin 〈…〉 seem the more, and thy sin the greater. He that hath the dropsy, drinketh while he bursteth and yet not 〈◊〉; the Horseleech hath two daughters that never try ●●●ugh who so is slung with the Serpent Dipsas, burneth, ●ut can never be c●●led: and who so is inflamed with sin, thirsteth continually after wickedness until he hath s●ppe● the dregs of God's displeasure, to his own destruction. Beware by this, fall not into the trap, when thou fee●● the train: for knowing the sin, if thou offendest against thine own conscience; the Lord will send upon thee cursing, trouble, and shame in all that thou settest thy hand unto, and will not cease to revenge until thou perish from off the face of the earth. Oh hast thou not at home an Isabel that is the wife of thy youth and the only friend of thy bosom, endued with such exquisite beauty and exce●ding virtue, that it is hard to judge whether the pure complexion of her body, or the perfect constitution of h●r mind, holds the supremacy. And is not a peaceable woman and of a good heart, the gi●t of the Lord? There is nothing so much worth as a woman well instructed● a shame fast and faithful woman is a double grace, and there is no treasure to be compared to her continent mind: but as the glistering beams of the sun when it ariseth, decketh the heaven: so the beauty of a good wife adorneth the house: & as golden pillars ●●e shine upon the sockets of silver, so doth a fair face in a virtuous mind. Shall the fear of God than Francisco be so far from thine eyes as to leave thine own wife and embrace a Courtesan, to leave the law of God, and suffer thy heart to be subverted by ●u●t. The Lion so abhorreth this crime, as he killeth the Lioness, for committing this fac●. Th● stork never meddleth 〈◊〉 with ●is 〈◊〉. The jacinth 〈◊〉 w●● not be wor●e on the 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉, nor the Olive grow, if pl●●ed 〈◊〉 one tha● dareth his life in unlawful lusts: and wil● thou 〈◊〉 thyself more ●a●●les in this crime than 〈…〉, more ●●ckles th●● unreasonable creatures, more 〈◊〉 than 〈◊〉 ● y●a far less in virtue than a man, & far 〈…〉 vice than a beast. Then 〈◊〉 the Lord look down from heaven, and plague thee with a heavy 〈◊〉. At this ●●●use standing a great while in a maze, at last he step to h●s 〈◊〉 and wrote this answer.  
Francisco wisheth to Infida remorse of conscience, & regard of honesty.  
I Have read thy letters Infida wherein I hoped to have 〈◊〉 more honesty and l●sse vanity; a sign of better though●●● and lines of more remorse; else had I lef● them sealed, as I c●uet to leave thee unseen. But I perceive as no time will alter the Panther from his spots, the Mouse from her fear, nor the Tiger from his fierceness; so neither date nor reason will change the conditions of a Courtesan: Thou writest thou are pe●i●●●●, so I think, but it is no● for thy sins; but that thou hast not liberty enough to ●in, enjoind by some overthwart neighbour to be more honest than thou wo●l●●t be, which is ●s great a penance to one of thy trade, as a long pilgrimage to a sorrowful Palme●. A ●eare in a 〈…〉 like heat ●●ops in a bright 〈…〉 the Crocodile when she weep●, a Courtesies laughter is like to lightning, the beawtifies the ●eau●● for a bl●ze but fore●●● storms and thunder. Art tho● in love with Francisco, ●●●rie gippe Giglet, thy love sits on thy ●onges 〈◊〉, ready to leap off assoon as thy mouth ope●s● and thine honesty hangs at thine ●ye● which fall● away with every 〈…〉 art 〈◊〉 with my be aw●●, that is because thou hear●●t I have a rich p●rse, not affair face● for thou va●e west as much of beauty without pence, as a horse of a foyre ●tabl● without prenender. Thou art enticed by my virtues, I wo●der how that word virtue comes in thy mouth, when it is so far from thy heart● and pe●●●o●r●●●●e, for the most infectious Serpents ha●e sweet●t breaths: ●nd the commonest Courtesans, the most courteous speeches.  
Thou wo●ldest have me g●ace thee with my prese●●●● and 〈◊〉 our old● friendship: so I will, when ● mean to give my body to the Surgeon, & my Soul to the Devil: for in loving thee, I must needs grant this Legacy. Thy reason is, that bones once broken, united again, are the strongest. I would thy neck might make the experience, and then I would trust the instance. But why pe●ter I so much paper to so lew● a person? as I found thee at the first, I leave thee at the last, even empty gordgde to bai●e at a full purse, incon●inient, false, perjured; as far from God as thou art friend to the Devil: and so adieu.  
Franc●sco penitent, and therefore a persecuter of courtesans.  
AFter he had written this letter he sent it to Infida, ●horeading it, and seeing she could get●e no 〈◊〉 at the hands of Francisco; that wrought she never so subtly, yet her trains were discovered, that her painted luers could no● make him stoop, so had ●e with reason re●elled his former folly: when she perceived (I say) that all her 〈◊〉 potions were found to ●e● poisons, though she covered them never so clarkly● she ●el not in despair with overmuch love, but swore in herself to intend him some secret prejudice, if ever it lay in her by any means to procure i●: but leaving her to the justice of him that poiseth the deeds of such impenitent persons in his balance, and committing Francisco to the making of some strange comedies I will show you how Fortune made an assault to the unfeigned affection of fair Isabel.  

The discourse of Isabella's Fortune●.  
ISabel living thus pensive in that she wanted ●●e presence of her Francisco, yet for her patience and virtue grew so famous, that all Caerbranck talked of her pe●fections: her beauty was admired of every eye, be ●●●lities applauded in every man's ear, that she was esteemed for a pattern of virtuous excellence throughout the whole City. Amongst the rest that censured of her curious favours, there was one Signior Bernardo ● Bourgomaster of the City, who chancing on a time to pass by the ●●●re where Isabel so iourn; seeing so sweet a Saint, began to fa●l enamoured of so fair an object: and although he was old, yet the fire of lust crept into his eyes and so inflamed his heart, that with a disordinate desire he began to affect her: but the renown of her chastity was such, that it almost quatted those sparks that heated him on to such lawless affection. But yet when he called to mind that want was a great stumbling block, and saw the necessity that Isabel was in by the absence of Francisco, he thought gold would be a ready means to gain a woman's good will● and therefore despaired not of obtaining his purpose. After that this Signior Bernardo had well noted the exquisite perfection of h●r body, and how she was adorned with most special gifts of nature, he was so snared with the ●etters of lascivious Concupiscence, as reason could not redress what lust had engrafted; his aged years yielded unto danitie, so that he turned away his mind from God, and durst not lift up his eyes unto heaven, lest it shoul● be a witness of his wickedness, or a corrosive to his guilty conscience: for the remembrance of God is a terror to the unrighteous, and the sight of his creatures is a sting to the mind of the ●●probate. He therefore feeling his devilish heart to b●e ●●rplexed with such hellish passions, carele●●●● cast off the 〈◊〉 of God from before his eyes, neither remembr●●● 〈…〉 was an Elder to give good counsel, ●or a judge in th●●●tie to minister right: his hoary hairs could not ha●e him from sin, nor his calling convert him from filthiness, but he greedily drunk up the dregs 〈…〉 carefully ●us●ed his brains to oppress 〈…〉 obtain his purpose 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉 thus. Being 〈…〉 Bourgomaster in all the city, he determined to make a privy search for some suspected person; and being master of the watch himself, to go up into her chamber, and there to discover the depth of his desire, so he thought to join love and opportunity in one union, and with his office and his age to wipe out all suspicion. Age is a crown of glory when it is adorned with righteousness, but the dregs of dishonour when 'tis mingled with mischief: for honourable age consisteth not in the term of years, nor is not measured by the date of a man's days, but godly wisdom is the grey hair, and an undefiled life is ●lde age. The Herb grace the older it is, the ranker smell it hath: the Sea star is most black being old: the Eagle the more years, the more crooked is her bill; and the greater age in wicked men, the more unrighteousness: which this Signior Bernardo tried true; for desire made him hate delap, and therefore within two or three nights, picking out a watch answerable to his wish, he himself (as if it had been some matter of great import) went abroad, and to colour his folly with the better shadow, he searched divers houses, and at last came to the place where Isabel lay, charging the host to rise and to show him her chamber; for (quoth he) I must confer with her of most secret affairs. The good man of the house obeyed willingly, as one that held Bernardo in great reverence, and brought him and the match to the chamber door. Bernardo taking a ●andle in his hand, ●ad them all departed till he had ●alked with the Gentlewoman, which they did, and he entering in shutting the door, found her fast on sleep; which fight ●raue the old Lecher into a 〈◊〉 for there seein● nature in her pride, lust 〈◊〉 him the more, that he sat on ●he bed side a great while viewing of her beauty: at last starting up, he awake her out of a sw●ete ●●umbe●● Isabel looking up, and seeing one of the Bourgomasters in the chamber, (for Bernardo was known for his gravitas and wealth of every one in the City) she was amazed● yet gathering her wits together, raising herself up on her pillow, although he knew she 〈◊〉 rightly refel hi● folly, and ●a●●ly perceived her c●●●s●ile cooled the extreme of his desires, yet the fear of God was so far from him, that he prosecuted his intent thus.   

Signior Bernardos' answer to Isabella's reply.  
WHy Isabel (quoth he) thinkest thou thy painted sp●●●ches, or thy hard denials shall preu●il● against 〈◊〉 pretended purpose? No, he is a coward that yieldeth at the first shot, and h● no● w●●thie to wear the bud of beauty that is daunted with the 〈◊〉 repulse. I have the tr●e in my hand and mean to enjoy the fruit: I have he●ten the bush and now will not let the birds ●●ie● and seeing 〈…〉 here alone, your 〈…〉 shall stand for no sterlin●●hat if you consent, be 〈◊〉 of a most trustee fr●●nd● if not, hope for no other hap b●● open infamy. For ●●ou knowest (Isabel) that a woman's chiefest treasure is her good 〈◊〉, & that she which hath 〈◊〉 her credit is half hanged, for death cu●s off all miseries, but 〈◊〉 is the beginning of all sorrows. Sith than infamy i● worse than loss of life, assure thy sel●e I will 〈◊〉 thee to the quick, for I will presently send thee to prison, and cause some Ruffian in the city to swear ●hat stars the absence of thy 〈…〉 Franc●s●● ● he hath 〈…〉 so shall 〈…〉 punishment, and make 〈◊〉 laughing stock to the world, odious to thy friends, a●d to live hated of thy husband: mine 〈◊〉 and au●hor●tie, my ag● and 〈…〉 my pr●ten●e 〈…〉 th●n (●ai●e Is●bel) 〈…〉 of thy 〈…〉 thyself a wi●e woman, 〈…〉 ●●●●bel hearing the mischievous 〈…〉 Le●h●r and se●ing he had 〈…〉 she coul● not avoid 〈…〉 of the body or the destruction of the soul, was so driven into such a passionate dilemma, that she burst forth into tears, sighs and plaints, which she blubbered forth on this wise.  
Alas (quoth she) most vile and unjust wretch, is the fear of God so far from thy mind, that thou seekest not only to sack mine honour, but to suck my blood? Is it not injury enough that thou seekest to spoil mine honesty, but that you long to spill my life? Hath thy sweet love pretended such bitter taste? Is this the fruit of your feigned fancy? No doubt the cause must be pernicious when the effect is so pestilent. Flatter not yourself in this thy folly, nor soothe not thy thoughts in thy sins; for there is a God that seethe and will revenge, and hath promised that who bindeth two 〈◊〉 together shall not be unpunished in the one. But what availeth it to talk of wisdom to a fool, or of the wrath of God to a wilful reprobate. The Charmer charm he never so wisely, charms in vain if the Adder be deaf; and he casteth stones against the wind that seeketh to draw the wicked from his folly: let me therefore (poor soul) more narrowly consider mine own case, I am perplexed with divers doubtful passions, and grievous troubles assaileth me on every side: if I commit this crime though never so secretly, yet the Lord is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and pierceth into the very thoughts, and mine own conscience will be a continual witness against me of this wickedness: Stopendium peccatimors, than what other hap can I hope for but perpetual damnation, sith the Lord himself hath promised to be a swi●● witness against all wilful adulterers: And if I consent not unto this unrighteous wretch, I am like to be unjustly accused of the like crime, and so shall I being guiltless, have mine honour ever blemish with infamy. By this means what a discredit shall I bring to my parents, to my husband and my children: the hoary hai●es of my father shall be brought with sorrow unto the grave, Francisco shall be ashamed to show his face in the streets of the City, and my 〈…〉 seed of an harlot's and 〈◊〉 alas I m● self 〈◊〉 ●acklesse. Why my secret offence shall 〈◊〉 all this open shame; The Lord is slow to wr●th, 〈◊〉 his mercy exceedeth all his works: he wisheth not the death 〈…〉 ●nd 〈◊〉 repentance pacifi●th his displeasure. But oh vile wretch that I am, why do I blaspheme 〈…〉 the L●● and his Law? why do A 〈…〉 C●n I say I will rep●●● at my 〈◊〉 or shall I 〈◊〉 sin in hope because the Lord is merciful? 〈◊〉, it i● better for me to fall into thy hands 〈…〉 commit the 〈◊〉 than to sin in the sight of the Lor●● shall I not rather fear God than man; and dread him more that killeth both soul and body, than him that h●th pow●r 〈◊〉 to kill the body only? Yet his fear shall be my def●●ce. 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 she raised herself up, spitted in his face, and wished him to do his worst: whereupon ●e calle● up the w●tch, and commanded her to make he ready, for sh●● should to priso●. Her Host wondering what the cause should 〈…〉 to her action's and the virtue of he● life; 〈…〉 his word for he●, that she should the ●ext day 〈◊〉 whatsoever should be objected against her● but hi● wo●de would not be taken; for Bernardo 〈◊〉 ●ull of ●urie, & carried her away to prison; where d●epel● grieved, and yet smothering her sorrow wi●h patience, 〈…〉 next morrow assoon as day broke, she called for pen and ink and wrote this mournful 〈◊〉.  

Isabella's Sonnet that she made in prison.  
 
No 〈…〉  
For 〈…〉  
The 〈…〉  
The 〈…〉  
Report that sild to honour is a friend,  
May many li●s against true meaning mint:  
But yet at last,  
'Gainst slanders blast,  
Truth doth the silly sackles soul defend.   

Though false reproach seeks honour to distain,  
And envy bites the bud though near so pure,  
Though lust doth seek to blemish ●hast desire:  
Yet truth tha● brooks not falsehoods slanderous stain,  
Nor can the spite of envies wrath endure:  
Will try tru● love from lust in I●stice fire:  
And manger all  
Well free from thr●●●  
The guiltless soul that keeps his footing sure.   

Where innocence triumpheth in her prime,  
And guilt cannot approach the honest mind;  
Where chaste intent is free from any miss,  
Though 〈◊〉 strive, yet searching time  
With piercing insight will the truth out find,  
And make discovery who the guilty is●  
For time still tries  
The truth from lies:  
And God makes open what the world doth blinds.   

Veritas Temp●ris filia.   
ISabel wetting her sonnet with ●eares, and pronouncing every line with a sigh, sat in a dump. Whilst the fame of this fact was spread abroad throughout all Caerbranck, every man began sundry conjectures as affection led them: her friends sorrowing suspected the cankered mind of the Burgomaster; yet for his calling durst not discover their suspicion: her foes laughing said, that dissembled holiness was a double sin, and that the holiest countenance hath mischiefs, I thought it my duty to bring her into open infamy that she may be punished for her fault, known for a h●rlot, and from henceforth live despised and hated of all For proof that she hath lived long in this lewd kind of life, this young man shall here before you all make present deposition; and with that he reached him ● bible: whereo● he swore that he had long time conversed dishonestly with Isabel, ever since the departure of her husband. At which oath the people that were jurours in the cause, believing the protestation of Bernardo, and the deposition of the youth, presently found her guilty: and then Bernardo and the rest of the Burgomasters gave judgement, that she should presently have some open and seue●● punishment, & after ●t banished ●ut of the town. Assoon as Isabel heard the censure, she appealed for no mercy, nor bashed any whit, as one desirous of favour; but lifting up her eyes to heaven, only said thus. O God which seest the secrets of all hearts, and knowest all things before they come to pass, which des●er●est the very inward thoughts, and ●riest the heart and the reins: Thou knowest that because I would not consent unto the filthy Just of this ●oting lecher; nor agree by defiling my husband's bed to fulfil his fleshly desires, that he hath slandered me with that crime whereof I was never guilty, that he hath produced this young ma● by sinister subornation to perjure himself in a fault whereas not so much as in thought I committed such a fact; he hath to satisfy his malicious mind without cause devised this false crime. I confess O Lordis be a most grievous offend●r, and to deserve far greater punishment, but not for this d●●●e. Hear then O Lord my pr●yer, and let the innocence of my case plead before thy divine maies●y: if it be thy will pre●●●● his 〈◊〉, confound his counsels and let him which hath digged the pit for others, fall into the snare himself. Thou hast never as yet O Lord lets the succourless without helpe● but hast delivered them which fear thee from all adversity: thou did●se set free joseph from the hands of his brethren which sought to spill his blood, and didst prevent the practices of S●●l, inte●●ed against thy servant Dauid● Elize●● 〈…〉 Dotham was not only freed from his 〈◊〉 but also guarded about with a troop of holy Angels: Elias was preserved from the cruelly of jesabel, and 〈◊〉 with Ravens. But chief in my case; how mightily ●i●st thou 〈◊〉 Susanna from the treachery of the two Elders in raising up young Daniel to maintain her right● Nay 〈◊〉 hath trusted in thy mercy, which hath come to mish●ppe● or who hath put his hope in thee and hath suffered harm. So O Lord, if it be thy will thou canst disciose the devise of this Signior Bernardo, and unfold the follies of this false wit●esse: help then O LORD, for in thee is my trust.  
The people hearing the solemn protestation of sorrowful Isabel, thought she had spoken these words to excuse her fault, but not that she was guiltless of the fact; giving more credit to the reverend age of Bernardo, and the ●ath of the young man countena●●tou● by the Burgomaster; th●n to the young years of a simple woman, supposing her speeches were more of customs to cloak her follies, than of conscience to clear her of that crime; and therefore they woul● have returned her back again unto prison, till the day assigned for her punishment. As sh●e was ready to be carried away, he which had accused I●abel ●●are up as a man lunatic, and cried out unto the peopl●● Thus I have ●ame● men of Caerbranck, I have sinned● the thought of my ●●esent perjury is a hell to my 〈◊〉; for I hau● 〈◊〉 fal●ly against th● innocent and have consented to condemn Isabel without cause: an● wi●h that he 〈◊〉 at the bar how Signior Bernardo had 〈◊〉 him against the Gentlewoman, and how in all hi● life before he never wa● in her comp●●●e. 〈◊〉 which confession of the young man, the Burgomasters examined the matter more effectually, and found tha● isabel was clear, tha●●, honest and virtuous, and Bernardo was a doting lecher: whereupon they not only amersed him in a great fine, to be paid to Isabel, but put him for ever after from ●earing any office in the City.  
Thus was Isabel delivered from her enemies, and reckoned more famous for her chastity through all Caerbranck. This strange event spread abroad through all the countrey● and as fame ●lies swift and far, so at last i● came to the ears of Francisco: for he sitting in Tr●ynouant at an ordinary amongst other Gentleman, heard this fortune of Isabel reported at the table for strange news, by a Gentleman of Caerbranck, who brought in Isabel for a mirror of chastity, and added this more, that she was married to a Gentleman of a ripe wit, good parentage, and well skilled in the liberal Sciences, but (quoth he) an unthrist; and one that hath not been with his wife this six years. At this all the table condemned him as passing unkind, that could wrong so virtuous i● wife with absence: He was silent and blushed, feeling the worm of his conscience to wring him; and that with inch a sharp sting, that assoon as he got into his chamber, he fell to meditate with himself of the great abuses he offered his wife, the excellence of her exterior perfection, her beauty, virtue, and other rare ornaments of nature presented themselves into his thoughts, that he began not only to be passing passionate; but deeply penitent, sorrowing as much at his former follies, as his hope was to joy in his ensuing good fortunes: Now he saw that Omnia sub sole vanitas: that beauty without virtue was like to a glorious flower without any operation, which the Apothecaries set in their shops for to be seen, but assoon as it withereth, they cast it into the furnace as an unprofitable weed: that the embracings of a Courtesan seem they never so sweet, yet they were the paths to destruction; that their looks were stales unto death, and the folds of their ha●des are fetters to snare men in sin. Now he saw that pride was extreme folly, for such as look● most high against the Sun grew soon blind: that Icarus caught his fall, by soaring high● that ●ime 〈◊〉 spent in●●●itie, in riotous company, amongst a ●rew of careless Caualier●, that would boast it in the town, not brave in the field wa● neither to be recalled nor recompen●●. Oh Francisco (quoth he) how 〈◊〉 thou been lead away with every loo●e, fed upon with Trencher flie●, eaten alive ●ith flatterer's, given to look at a goddess more than thy God, more ready to a Bowl th●n thy Boo●e, squaring in the streets when thou shoul●●st be meditating in thy chamber. If thou knowest these to be extreme parts o● folly, repent and amend: The Dear knowing Tam●risk is deadly to his nature, scorns to come near the tree. The Unicorn will not brook to re●t under a Cytron t●ee, for that he holds it mortal: The Elephant will fly out of the company of a murderer. These brute beasts avoid what nature tells them is perilous: thou huntest after those harms with greediness, that thou knowest are prejudicial.  
Well Francisco, then now or else n●uer t●ey with such follies; step at the bottom, ●nd then it is S●ro, 〈◊〉 let it be Seri●● home to thy wife of shy youth, recon●ile thyself to her, she will forgive and forget thy former fondness, a●d entertain her penitent paramour, with as great kindnesses as he comes home with penance: What man, Nu●qu●● sera ●st ad bonos mores via. With that Francisco took ●en● and paper, and wrote this 〈◊〉.  

Francescoes Sonnet, made in the prim● of his penance.  
With sweeting brows I long have plowde the sand●●  
My seeds was youth, my crop was endless care:  
Repent hath sent me home with empty hands  
At last, to tell how rife our follies are:  
And time hath left experience to approue●  
The gain is grief to those that traffic lo●e.   

The silent thought of my repentant ye●res  
That fill my head, have called m● home at last:  
Now love unmasked a wanton wretch appears;  
Begot by guileful thought with over haste.  
In prime of youth a rose, in age a we●de,  
That for a minute's i●ye pays endless need.   

Dead to delights, a foe to fond conceit,  
Allied to wit by want, and sorrow bought:  
Farewell fond youth, long fostered in deceit:  
Forgive me Time disguise in idle thought.  
And Love adieu, lo hasting to mine end;  
I find no time too late for to amend.   
Having framed this sonnet, he gave the copy to some of his friends● making manifest to them his resolution to leave Troynovant, and to go home, and by their help, who furnished him with such necessaries ●s he did want, he in short time took his journey. The day of his departure was joyful to all his friends, in so much that as many as knew of his jurney, gathered themselves together, and made him a banquet; where (very merry and pleasant) they karoust to the health of his Isabel: One amongst the rest who loved Francisco so tenderly, took a cup of wine in his hand, & with tears in his eyes, said thus: Francisco, I have nothing to give thee, being myself pinched with want: but some precepts of wit that I ha●e bought with much experience, those shalt thou have at my ha●des. which if thou put in practice, think I have given much tre●sure.  

The farewell of a friend.  
1 Let gods worship be thy morning's work, and his wisdom the direction of thy days labour.  
2 Rise not without thanks, not sleep not without repentance.  
3 Choose but a few friends and try those; for the flatterer speaks fairest.  
4 If thy wife be wise make her thy Secretary, else lock thy thoughts in thy heart, for women are seldom silent.  
5 If she be fair, be not jealous; for suspicion cures not women's follies.  
6 If she be wise, wrong her not: for if thou lovest others she will loathe thee.  
7 Let thy children's nurture be their richest portion: for wisdom is more precious than wealth.  
8 Be not proud amongst thy poor neighbours: for a poor man's hate is perilous.  
9 Nor too familiar with great men: for presumption wins disdain.  
10 Neither be too prodigal in thy fare, nor die not indebted to thy belly, but enough is a feast.  
11 Be no● envious, lest thou fall in thine own thoughes.  
12 Use patience, mirth, and quiet: for care is enemy to health.   
And Francisco (quoth his friend) that thou mayest remember my precepts I drink to thee. Upon this he pl●●ged him, and so in pleasant that they passed away the time till breakfast was done, and then he ga● him to horse, and then brought him a mile out of the Cit●e. At last, although they played loath to departed, yet Francisco must away, but before he departe●, when they were ready to shake hands, 〈◊〉 out of his sleeve a Sonnet that he had made and gave them it. The effects were these.  

Francescos Sonnet called his parting blow.  
Reason that long in prison of my will  
Hast wept thy mistress wants and loss of time:  
Thy wont siege of honour safely climb,  
To thee I yield as guilty of mine ill.   

Lo (fettered in their tears) mine eyes are priest  
To pay due homage to their native guide,  
My wretched heart wounded with bad betide,  
To crave his peace f●●m reason, is addressed.   

My thoughts ashamed since by themselves consumed,  
Have done their duty to repentant wit:  
Ashamed of all sweet guide I sorry sit,  
To see in youth how I too far presumed.   

Thus he whom love and error did betray,  
Subscribes to thee, and takes the better way.  
Sero sed serio.   
Assoon as he had delivered them the Sonnet, shaking hands, he put spurs to his horse and road onward on his iourney● within five vaies he arrived at Caerbrancke, where assoon as he was lighte● he went to the house where his wife sojourned, and one of the maids espying Francisco, yet knew him for all his long absence, and ●anne in and told it to Isabel that her husband was at the d●ore: she being at work in he● chamber, sat at this news a● one in an ecstasy, until Francisco came up, who 〈◊〉 ●he 〈◊〉 sigh of his wife, considering the excellency of her beauty, her virtues, chastity, and other perfections, and measuring he● constancy with his disloyalty, stood as a man metamorphosed: at last he began thus.  
Ah Isabel, what shall I say to thy fortunes or my 〈◊〉? what exordium shall I ●se to show my penance, or discover my sorrows, or express my present joys & For I ●ell th●e I conceive as great pleasure to s●● th●● well, as grief in that I have wronged thee with my absence. Might sighs, (Isabel) tears, plaints, or any such exterior passion's portray out my inward repentance, I would show thee the Anatomy of a most distressed man: but ●mongst many sorrowing thoughts there is such a confusion, that superflu●●●●●f griefs stops the source of my discontent. To figure out my follies or the extremity of my fancie●, were but to m●nifest the bad course of my life● and ●o ra● the fearre by ●●●ting out mine own scathed a●● therefore 〈◊〉 it suffice, I repent heartily, I sorrow deeply, and mean to amend and continue in the same constan●ite. A● th●● Francisco st●●de and w●p●, which Isabel seeing, contained by ●is outward griefs his secret passions, and therefore taking him about the neck, wetting his cheeks with the tears that fell from her eyes, she made him this womanly, and wise answer.  
What Francisco, comest thou home full of woes, or seekest thou at thy return to make me weep? Hast thou be●● long absent, and now bringest thou me a treatise of discon●ent? I see thou are penitent, and therefore I like not to hear wh●t folly's are passed. It 〈◊〉 for Isabel that henceforth thou wilt love I●●bel. and upon that condition without any more words welcome to Isabel. With that she smiled and wept, and in doing both together sealed up all her contrary passions in a kiss. Many lo●kes p●st between them, many odd 〈◊〉 and many fauours● but what they did, or how th●y agreed in secret that I 〈…〉 forth they c●me great 〈◊〉 out of the chamber, where Francisco was welcomed home of his wife's ●ost with great cheate● who to show his kindness the more, ●ad provided solemn ●an●●e●, having hidden many of hi● neighbours to supper, that they might accompany F●●●●esco.  
Well, supper being done and they sitting by the fire, the host seeing them all in a dump, said, that to drive them out of their melancholy he would tell them a tale, which they all desirous of, sat silent, and he began thus.   

The Hosts tale.  
IN Thessaly, where Nature hath made the soil proud with the beauty of Shepherds, there dwelled a swain called Selador; ancient, as having age seated in his hairs; and wealthy, as enfeoffed with great possessions; and honest, as being endued with many virtuous qualities. This Selador had to joy him in his age a daughter of great beauty, so exquisite in her exterior feature, as no blemish might eclipse the glory that Nature bestowed in her lineaments. As thus she was fair, so was she wise, and with her wit joined virtue, that to behold, she was Helena; to hear, Pallas; and to court, a Daphne. This damosel whose name was Mirimida, kept h●r father's sheep, & in a scarlet petticoat, with a chaplet of flowers on her head, went every day to the ●●●lds, where she plied the care of her father's folds with such diligence, that she seemed with Labour to enter arms against Love, & with her hands thrift to prevent her hear●s grief. Using thus daily the plains of Thessaly, the Shepherds delighted at the gaze of so excellent an object, and held their eyes fortunate when they might behold her feature, esteeming him happy that could lay his flocks nearest to her folds. Amongst the rest of all the swains that fed their thoughts 〈◊〉 he favours, there was one called Eurymachus, a young youth that had th● pride of his years triumphing in his countenance, witty and full of pleasant conceits, and that Fortune might jump with love, and make him gracious in women's eyes he was wealthy; for gold is the Chrisocoll of love. This Eurymachus always so plotten the course of his sheep walk, that he was next neighbour to Mirimida, in so much that to discover his fancy he did her often favours; for when any of her Lambs went ●●tray, or any thing grew amiss, then Eurymachus was the swain that endeavoured by his labour to redress every loss. By this means he waxed private and familiar with Mirimida, which was the means that wrought him into a prejudicial labyrinth; for he did so near acced●r● ad ig●em, that he did calescere plu● quam saetis: for as none comes near the fume of the Misselden but he waxeth blind, nor any touch the Salamander but he is troubled with the palsy; so none could gaze on the face of Mirimida 〈◊〉 they went away languishing. This did poor E●rymachus experience: for although he knew loves fires were fatal, and did not warm but scorch; yet he loved with the bird ●o fly to the ●lame though he burn his wings and fell in the ●ush; he would not with Ulysses stop his ears, but sit and sing with the Syreus; he feared no enchantment, but caroused with Circe's, till his over-daring drew him into a passionate danger, and so long sucked in the beauty of Mirimida with his ever thirsty eyes, till his heart was fuller of passions, than his eyes of affections: yet discover his thoughts he durst not, but smothered up his inward pains with outward silence; having the Oven the hatter within for that it was dam● up, and his gre●fes the deeper for that they were concealed. To manifest his malady to her he durst no●, he thought himself too homely a patiented for such a Physician: to utter his loue● to another and make any his Secretary but himself, he supposed was to draw in a rival to his loves. Thus was Eurymachus perplexed, till at last to give a little ●ent to the flame, sitting on a day on a hill, he pulled forth pen and ink, and wrote this fancy.  

Eurymachus fancy in the prime of his affection.  
When lordly Saturn in a sable robe  
Sat full of frowns and mourning in the West,  
The evening star scarce p●●pt from out her lodge,  
And Phoebus nowly galloped to his rest:  
Even th●n  
Did I  
Within my boat sit in the silent streams,  
All void of cares as he that lies and dream's.   

As Phao so a ferry-man I was,  
The country lasses said I was too fair,  
With easy toil I laboured at mine ●are,  
To pass from side to side who did repair:  
And then  
Did I  
For pain●s take pence, and Charon like transport  
Assoon the swain as men of high import.   

When want of work did give me l●aue to rest,  
My sport was catching of the wanton fish:  
So did I wear the tedious time away,  
And with my labour mended oft my dish  
For why  
I thought  
That idle hours were Calendars of ruth●  
And time ill spent was prejudice to youth.   

I scorned to love, for were the Nymph as fa●re  
As she that loved the beauteous Latmian swain,  
Her face, her eyes, her tresses, nor her brows  
Like ivory could my affection gain:  
For● by  
I said  
With high disdain, Love is a base desire,  
And Cupid's flames, why the are but ●atrie fire.   

As thus I sat disdaining of proud love,  
Have ever F●rri●●● there cried a boy,  
And with him was a paragon, for bu●  
A lovely 〈◊〉 beauteous and coy,  
And ●●ere  
With her.  
A maiden, covered with a t●●nie val●,  
Her face unseen far breeding lovers bal●.   

I stirred my boat, and when I came to shore  
The boy was winged, me thought it was a wonder:  
The dame had eyes like lightning or the flash  
That runs before ●he 〈◊〉 report of thunder;  
Her smiles.  
Were sweet●,  
Lovely her face: was near so fair a creature,  
For earthly cark●sse had a heavenly feature.   

My friend (quoth she) 〈…〉 behold,  
We three must pass, but not af●r thing fare,  
But I will give (for 〈◊〉 Queen of l●ue)  
The brightest lass thou lik'st unto thy share,  
Choose where  
Thou ●●est,  
Be she as fair as loves sweet Ladi● is,  
She shall 〈◊〉 if 〈◊〉 will be thy bliss.   

With that she smiled with such a pleasing face,  
As might have made the marble rock relent:  
But that I triumphs in disdain of love,  
Bad 〈◊〉 on him 〈◊〉 ●o fond love was bend,  
And then  
Said thus,  
So light the ferry-man for love doth care,  
As Venus pass not, if she pay no f●r●.   

At thi●●● a frown ●at on her angry brow,  
She winks upon her wanton son hard by:  
He from his quiver drow a bolt of fire,  
And aimed so right as that he pierced mine eye:  
And then  
Did she  
Draw down the v●le that hide the virgin's face,  
Whose heavenly beauty lightened all the place.   

Strait then I leaned mine arm upon mine ear,  
And ●ookt upon the Nymph (if so) was fair:  
Her eyes were stars, and like Apollo's lo●ks  
Me thought appeared the trammels of her hair.  
Thus did  
I ga●e  
And sucked in beauty till that sweet desire  
Cast fue●● on and set my thought on fire.   

When I was lodged within the net of love,  
And th●t they saw my heart was all on flame,  
The Nymph away, and with her trips along  
The winged boy, and with her goes his dame.  
Oh than  
I cried  
Stay Ladies stay and take not any care●  
You all shall pass and pay no penny fare●   

Away they fling, and looking coily back  
They laugh at me: oh with a loud disdain.  
I send out sighs to overtake the Nymphs,  
And t●●res a● lures to call them back again:  
But ●●ey  
Fly ●hence,  
But I sit in my boat●, with 〈…〉  
And feel a pain●, 〈◊〉 know not what 〈◊〉 sore.   

At last I feel it is the flame of love,  
I strive but bootless to express the pain,  
It cools, it fires, i● hopes, i● feare●, i● frets,  
And stirs passions throughout every 〈◊〉  
That 〈◊〉  
I sat●  
And sighing did fair● Venus' laws appr●●●,  
And swore n● thing so sweet and sour as love,  
●r●●lorida pungu●●.   
Having made this Canzon he put it in his bosom, and oft when he was by himself would read it, easing his passion with viewing the conceits of his own fancy: on a day having brought down his s●eep● he espies Mirimida, a●d to her he goes, and after his wont salut● sat down by her, and fell to such ●hat 〈…〉, intermeddling his passion with so 〈◊〉 sighs, 〈…〉 his eye so effectually upon her face without 〈◊〉, that she perceived the Shepherd had 〈…〉, and that there was none but she that b●re the Antidote. As thus she noated his passions, she espied a 〈◊〉 of paper sticking out of his bosom, which she 〈…〉 perceiving it was a Sonne● she read it, and th●● lo●king earnestly on Eurymachus 〈…〉, and she with a friendly smile began to cross him 〈◊〉 this 〈◊〉.  
What Eurymachus 〈…〉 labours wipe away wanton Amours, nor thy sharps care prevent thy 〈◊〉 love? I had thought fancy 〈◊〉 not 〈◊〉 on thy ●●ele, nor affection presented any object ●o thine eye● 〈◊〉 now 〈…〉 the Chameleon cannot live without air, 〈…〉 ●er without fire: so men 〈…〉 quiet in 〈◊〉 life, unless they acquaint them with l●ue: I see swains are not such swads but they have thoughts and passions, and be they never so low they can look at beauty. Corydon in his grey cassock had his fair Phillis, and Menalcas could court Galatea in his shepherds cloak, and Eurymachus be he never so homely will hazard, but at whom there lies the question.  
At whom (quoth Eurymachus) ah Mirimida, at one that is too high for my thoughes, and too beauteous for my fortunes: so that as I have soared with the Hobby, I shall bate with the Bunting; & daring with Phaeton, I shall drown with Icarus: mine eye was too proud, my thoughts too forward; I have stared at a ●●arre, but shall stumble at a stone, and I fear because I have ouerlookt in love, I shall be overlaid in love. With that he sighed, and Mirimida smiled and made this reply. Why Eurymachus, a man or a mouse? what is there any Cedar so high but the slowest snail will creep to the top? any fortune so base but will aspire; any love so precious but hath his prize? What Eurymachus, a Cat may look at a King, and a swains eye hath as high a reach as a Lords look. Vulcan in his leather suits courted Venus in her silks: the swain of La●mos w●ed Luna, both dare●, and both had their desires. What? Love requires not wealth but courage, & parentage is not so high prized by fancy as parsonage: fe●●e not man, if thou hast looked high, follow thy thought, and cry loves favours, for denial is no dishonour. Eurymachus hearing Mirimida in such an amorous humour, encouraged by her persuasions, thought now to strike while the iron was hot, and therefore taking her by the hand began thus.  
Truth Mirimida, Venus ●awes are bounded with constraint, and when love leadeth the eye, desire keeps no compass: when Paris courted Helena, though she were coy and denied, yet was she not discourteous & disdained; for she answered thus mildly: Nemo etenim succens●t amanti. This (Mirimida) makes me hardy to take thee by the hand, and  
Nay (quoth Eu●ymachus) and he took her ●ast by the arm, if I were sure you had power as Diana had to plague me with Act●●●● punishment, you pass not without a little more prattle; if I anger you, 'tis first a preparation ●o ● good stomach, for ●holler is a friend to digestion: secondly, as the Chrisocoll and the gold by long stri●ing together grow to be one metal; so by o●e falling out we shall be be●ter friends: for 
Amantium i●ae amoris redintegratio est.   
Therefore (fair Mistress) si● still and grant some favour to him that is ●e pained with fancy, I will love you though I am poor, and a King can do but so much: if you think my degree be to● low for so high beauty, think of all parte● the mean is the merriest, and that the shepherds grey hath less grie●e ●ho● th● Lordly estates: I know women must be coy, because they are women, and they must have time to be won, or else they would be thought to ●e wantons● therefore whatsoever you say now I hold it not authentical, yet for that I would have some hope, goo● M●rimida let me see th●e laugh. She could not but smile to see the Shepherd so pleasant, and so Eurymathus rested content, and from amorous that they fell to talk of other matters till evening grew on, and then they folded their sheep and with a friendly 〈◊〉 parted.  
Eurymachus was not alone thus 〈◊〉 of the fal●● Mirimida, bu● all the Shepherds of Thessaly wri● Poems and D●●●es of her bea●●ie, and we●e ●ute●s to her for favour; she like 〈◊〉 held love in 〈◊〉, and yet wa● courteous to all 〈◊〉 o●her kind of conference. Amongst the rest, Venus (●e●●ke) willing to be pleasant, had 〈◊〉 one in the labyrinth of love called Mullidor, a fellowship was of honest patents, but very poor, and his person●●● was as if he had been cast in Esop's moul●, his 〈◊〉 like● 〈…〉 of the largest life in folio, able to furnish a Cobblers 〈◊〉 sat down to his pottage and eat off his 〈◊〉 full, the old woman stumbles to the pot again for a fresh mess. Ah mother (quoth he with a great sigh) no more breathe ●o night: with that she clapped her hand o● her knee, and swore her ●oy was not well that he forsook his supping, yet he fell to a piece of bacon that stood on the board, and a ●ough barley pudding: but he rose before the rest and got him into a corner, where folding his arms together he sat thinking on his love. Assoon as the rest of the swains were up from the table and turning Crabs in the fire, she took her son into the seller, and sitting down in her chair began thus.  
Son Mullidor, thy cheeks are lea●e, and thou lookest like le●ton, pale & wan, I saw by thy stomach to night thou art not thine own man, thou hadst o'late (God save thee) a lovely fat pair of cheeks, and now thou lookest like a shotte● herring: Tell me Mullidor, and fear not to tell me, for thou tellest it to thy mother, what ailest thou? Is it grief of body or of mind that keeps thee on holidays from frisking it at the football? Thou art not as thou wert wont, & therefore say what thou ail'st, and thou sh●l● see old women have good counsel.  
At th●se speeches of his mother, Mullidor fetch a great sigh, and with that (being after supper) he broke winde● which Callena hearing, oh son (quoth she) 'tis ●he Collic● that troubles thee; to bed man, to bed, and we will have a warm p●tled. The Colic mother, no 'tis a disease that all the cunning women in the Country cannot cure, and strangely it holds me for sometimes it pains me in the head● somewhiles in mine eyes; my heart, my heart, oh there mother it plays the devil in a mortars somewhile it is like a frost, cold● sometimes as a fire, hot: when I should sleep than it makes m● wake; when I eat it troubles my stomach; when I am in company it makes me sigh; and when I am alone it makes me cry right out, that I ●an wet one of my new Lo●ker●●●apkins w●●h weeping. It came to me by a great chau●●e● for as I 〈◊〉 on a fair ●lower, a thing I know not what 〈◊〉 in at 〈◊〉 eyes, a●d ran round about all my vay●●s, and at last ga● into my heart, and there ever since hath remained, and there mother ever since so wring● me, that Mullidor must die, and with that he fell on weeping.  
Call●na seeing her son shed ●●ares, fell to her hempen apron and wiped her bleared eyes, and at last demanded of him if it were not love. At that question he hung down his head and fighthed. Ah my son (quoth she) now I see 'tis love; for he is such a sneaking fellow, that if he bu● le●●e in at the eylid a●d dive down into the heart, and there rests as cold as a stone, yet touch him and he wi●● s●●ike: for t●ll me Mullidor, what is she that thou lo●est and will not love thee? If she be a woman as I ●m, she cannot ●ut fancy thee; for mine eye though it be now old (and with that up went her apron and she wiped them clear) hath b●en a wanton when it was young, and would have chosen at the first glance the properest springal in the Parish: and trust me Mullidor, but be not proud of it, when I look on thee I find ●hee so lovely, that I count her worse th●n accursed would not choose thee for her Paramour. With these words Mullidor began to smile, and troubled his mother ere she had half ended he● tale on this ma●ner.  
Mother, I may rightly compare the Church to a looking glass; for as man may see himself in the one, and the●e see his proportion: so in the other the wenches e●●s are a testificate; for vpp●● whom you se● all the girls look, he for foo●e and fare carries away the bell, and I am sure for these two years I ne●er come in●o the Church and was no sooner set, but the wenches began to wink one on another to look on me and laugh. Oh aware mother when a dog wags his tail he loves his master, and when a woman laughs, for my life she is over the head & ears in love. Then if my fortune serve me to be so well thought on, why should I not ●enter on her I love. It is (mother) Seladors daughter Mirimida. Now God's blessing on thy heart (quoth Callen●) for loving such a smug lass, marry her (my son) and thou shalt have my benison in a clout. Mirimida? marry 'tis no mar●ell if thy cheeks are fallen for her: why, she is the fairest blossom in all the town: to her son, to her, trick thyself up in thy best reparel, & make no bones at it but on a wooing: for women's desires, I may tell thee boy, are like children's fancies, won oft with an apple when they refuse an Angel, and Mullidor take this with thee and fear not to speed: A woman's frown is not ever an instance of choler: if she refuse thee outwardly, she regards t●ee inwardly; and if she shake thee up and bid thee be packing, have the better hope, Cats and Dogs come together by scratching: if she smile, than son say to thyself, she is thine● and yet women are wyl●e cattle, for I have seen a woman laugh with anger, and kiss him she hath desired to kill: she will be co● (Mullidor) but care not for that, 'tis but a thing of course; speak thou fair, promise much, praise her highly, comm●nd her beauty above all, and her virtue more than all, sigh often, and show thyself full of passions, and as sure as thy cap is of wool, the wench is thine.  
Mullidor hearing his mother give such good counsel, said he would jeopard a joint, and the next day have a fling at her. With that he said his heart was eased, and his stomach somewhat come down with her good persuasions: whereupon the Am●rie was opened, and he turned me over the cantle of a Chée●e and went to bed. The next morning up he rose, and his holy day robes went on, his sta●d eppes ●ewe black●, his cap fair brushy, and a clean Lockeram band. Thus retired, away flings Mullidor to the field, and carried away his sheep & led them into the plains where Mirimida sought to feed her flocks: coming there, he that Venus fires as well warm the poor as the rich, and that deformity was no means to abridge fancy: whereupon she replied thus. Why Mullidor are you in love, and with me: i● there none but Mirimida that can fit your eye, b●ing so many beautiful damsels in Thessaly; take heed man, look● before you leap least you fall in the ditch: I am not good enough for so proper a man as yourself, especially being his mother's only son: what Mullidor, let m● counsel you, there are more maids than Malkin and the country hath such choice as may breed your better content: for mine own part at this time I mean not to marry. 'tis no matter quoth Mullidor what you say: for my mother told me, that maids at first would be coy when they were wooed, and mynse it as ●were a mare over a mouth full of Thistles, and yet were not a whit the worse to be liked, for 'twas a matter of custom. Well then Mullidor quoth Mirimida, leave off for this time to talke● of love; and hope the best: to morrow perchance it will be better: for women are like unto children, that will oft refuse an Apple, and strait cry for the paring: and when they are most hungry, then for sullenness fast: This Mullidor quoth she, is the frowardness of love: Marry than quoth he, if they have children's maladies, 'ttwere good to use children's medicines, and that's a rod: for ●e they never so froward, a ier●k or two will make them forward: and if that would bring women to a good temper; my mother hath a stiff cudgel, and I have a strong arm.  
Thus these two past away the day, till presently they espied a farr● off a Gentleman with a Ha●ke on his fist, to come riding towards them: who drawing nigh and seeing so fair a Nymph, rained his horse, and stood still, as Acteo● when he gazed at Diana: at last he alighted, and coming towards her, saluted her thus curteously● Fair virgin when I saw such a sweet Saint with such a crooked Apostle, I strait thought Venus had bee● walking abroad to take the ●yre with Vulcan; but assine as mine eyes began narrowly to make 〈◊〉 of thy beauty, I found V●nus ●lemishe with thy rare 〈…〉 sheep that are folded by su●h 〈…〉 are the●e shepherd's that enjoy the presence of such a beauteous creature: no marue●●● if Apollo became a 〈◊〉, o● Mercury a ●eatheard, when their 〈◊〉 are recompensed with such loves. Myself fair damasell, if either my degree were worthy, or my deserts any, wo●lde crave to have entertainment to become your dutiful 〈…〉 wh●le Mirimida held down her head and blushy: at last, lifting up her eyes full of modesty, and her face full of 〈◊〉 colours● such as flourish out the fronts of Diana's virgins she made the Gentleman this answer. My servant sit (quoth she) 〈◊〉, your worth is far above my wealth, and your dignity 〈◊〉 high for my degree, poor country Damo●●●● must n●t aim too high at fortune, nor fly too fast in desires, least ●ooking at their ●eete with the Peacock they let fall their places, and so shame at their own follies: but if my gr●● w●●● so great as to entertain such servants, I must bestow upon 〈◊〉 some changeable livery, to show the ●arietie of the●● minds● for men's hearts are like to the ●oli●e, tha● will 〈…〉 to all col●ors but ble●, and their thoughts into all 〈◊〉 but constancy's In that sit, ●ou● 〈◊〉 dazzled and 〈…〉, for Venus, 〈…〉 Gentleman t●●s abu●e h●s patience, as a man conceited in his own properness, and especially afore Mirimida, thwarte● him thus. You master meacock that stand upon the beauty of your churmnilke face; as brag with your Buzzard on your fist, as a Sow under an apple tree: know that we country swains as we are not beholding to Nature for beauty, so we little account of Fortune. for any favour: Tush man, my crook back harboureth more honest conditions, than thy fleering countenance: and these course suits, can fetch more pence than thy silks: for I believe thou mak'st a sco●●e of the Mercer's book: thou hast made such sure entrance there, that thou wilt never from thence till thou be'st come out by the ears. Goodman courtier, though we have backs to bear your frumps; yet we have queake stomack● tha● will hardly brook them: and therefore fine fool, be gone with your foul, or I will so be labour you, as you shall feel my fingers this fortnight: And with that Mull●dor heaved up his sheephook & bend his bro●●s, so that the Gentleman gi●ing Mirimida the ●die●, he pu● spurs to his horse and went his way.  
At this manly part of Mullidor, Mirimida laugh● heartily; and he took a great conceit, that he had showed himself such a ●all man: Upon this, Mirimida gave him a Nosegay which stuck in her bosom for a favour; which he accepted and gratefully, as though another had given him a tun of gold. Night drew on, and they folded th●ir sheep and departed, she to her Father, and he towards old Callena, as joyful a man as Paris, when he had the promise from Venu● ● he plodded on his way with his head full of passions and his heartful of new thoughts, and 〈◊〉 eye was on the Nosegay, in so much that he stood in a 〈◊〉 whether it were Love or some other 〈◊〉 worse 〈…〉, that thu● hincht him & pin●ht him: at la●● he fell with himself 〈◊〉 this meditation. Now do I perceive that Love is a purgation, and searcheth every urines' tha● though & ente● at the ●ye, yet it runs to the heart, and then it 〈…〉 old coil, where it worketh like a jugglers 〈◊〉. Oh Love thou art like to a flea which fittest sore, and yet leapest ●way and art not to be found: or to a pot of strong al●, that maketh a man call his Father whoreson: so both them bewitch a man's wits that he knoweth not a B. from a Battildore. Infortunate Mullidor, and therefore infortunate, because thou art over the ears in Love; and with whom? with Mirimida: whose eyes are like to sparks of f●re, and ●hine like a pound of butter, like to be melted with her beau●y, and to consume with the frieng flame of fancy. Ah Mullido● her face is like to a ●ed & white Daisy growing in a green meadow, & thou like a be, that comest and suckest honey from it, and carriest it home to the hive with a heave & hoe: that is as much to say, as with a head full of woes, & a heart full of sorrows and maladies. Be of good cheer, Mirimida laughs on thee, & thou knowest a woman's smile is as good to a lover, as a sunshine day to a Ha●maker: she shows thee kind looks, & ca●ts many ● sheep's eye 〈◊〉 thee: which signifies that she counts thee a man worthy to jump a ma●ch with her: nay more Mullidor, she hath given thee ● Nosegay of flowers wherein as a top gallant for all the rest, is set in Rosemary for remembrance: Ah Mullidor cheer thy s●lfe, fear not; love & fortune favours lusty 〈◊〉 ●owards are n●t friend● to affection: therefore venter's for thou has● won her: else 〈◊〉 she not gi●en thee this nosegay. And with this remembering himself, he 〈◊〉 up, left off his am●rous passions and ●●udgeth home to his house; where coming i●, old Calena stumbles to see in wha● humour her son c●me ho●e: ●●●●lick he was, & his ●ap on the oneside, he asked if supper we●e ready: his mother seeing his stomach was good, thought there was some hope of her Sons good fortunes, and therefore said, there was ● 〈◊〉 in the po● that is almost enough: but son quoth she, what newest what success in thy loves? how doth Mirimida 〈…〉 Ah, ah, quoth Mullidor, and he smiled, how should I be used: but as one that was wrap in his m●●hers smock when he was borne, Can the s●nne want heat, and the winter cold: or a proper man be denied in his suits? No mother, assoon as I began to circumglaze her with my Sophistry: & to fetch her about with 2 or three venies: from mi●e eyes I gave her such a thump on the breast, that she would scarce say no: I told her my mind & so wrap● he in the prodigality of my wit that she said an other time should: but then we parted laughing, with such a sweet smile that it made me lose in the ha●t like a dudgeon dagger: she gave me this nosegay for a favour, which how I esteemed it guess you● thus have I used her in kindness, and she used me in courtesy; & so I hope we shall make a friendly conclusion. By my troth son quoth she, & I hope no less, for I tell you, when maids give gifts, they mean well; and a woman if she laugh with a glancing look wisheth it were neither to do nor undone: she is thine my son fear not: and with that she laid the cloth and se● victuals on the board where Mullidor tried himself so tall a trencher man, that his mother perceived by his drift he would not 〈◊〉 for love. Leaving this passionate ●ubber, to the conceit of his loves ● let us return to the young courtier called Radagon, who ●ro●ting a soft pace upon his courser seeing the sun now bright and then overshadowed with clouds, began to compare the state of the weather fantastically to the humour of his Mirimidas fancies: saying, when Phoebus was eclipsed with a vapour, than she lowered: when he showed his glory in his brightness, the● she smiled● Thus he dallied in an ●n●oth m●tion so long, that at last he began to feel a fire that fretted to the heart. Riding thus in a quandary he entered into the consideration of Mirimidas beauty whereupon frolickly in an extemperat humour he made this sonnet.  

Radagons' Sonnet.  
No clear appeared upon the azurd Sky,  
A val● of storms had shadowed Phoebus' face●  
And in a sable man●le of disgrace:  
Sat he that is ycleap'd heavens bright eye,  
As though that he,  
Perplexed for Clitia, meant to leave his place,  
And wrapped in sorrows did resolve to di●;  
For death to louer● woes is ever me●  
Thus folded in a hard and mournful laz●  
Distressed sat he.   

A misty fog had thickened all ●he air,  
Iris sat solemn and denied her showers  
Flora in tawny hid up all her flowers  
And would not diaper her meads with fair,  
As though that she  
Were armed upon the barren earth to lower  
Unto the founts Diana nild repair,  
But sat as overshadowed with despair  
Solemn and sad within a withered bower  
Her Nymphs and she.   

Mars malcontent lay sick on Venus' knee,  
Venus in dumps sat muffled with a frown  
juno laid all her frolic humours down,  
And jove, was all in dumps as well as she:  
'twas Fate's decree.  
For Neptune (as he meant the world to drown)  
Hea●d up his surges to the highest tre●,  
And leagud with Eol, marred the Seaman's gle●  
Beating the Cedars with his billows down  
Thus wroth was he.   

My mistress deynes to show her sunb●ight face,  
The air cleared up, the clouds did fade away,  
Phoebus was frolic when she did display  
The gorgeous beauties, that her frunt do grace.  
So that when she●  
But walked abroad, the storms then fled away,  
Flora did chequer all her treading place,  
And Neptune calmed the surg●●●ith his mace,  
Diana a●d her Nymphs were bl●the and gay,  
When h●r th●y see.   
kill a thousand men. Indeed I cannot deny but oft sub melle latet venenum, that beauty without virtue is like a box of ivory containing some baleful Aconiton, or to a fair shoe that wrings the too●e; such love as is laid upon such a foundation is a short pleasure full of pain, and an affection bought with a thousand miseries; but a woman that is fair and virtuous maketh her husband a joyful man; and whether he be rich or poor, yet always he may have a joyful heart. A woman that is of a silent tongue, shamefast in countenance, sober in behaviour, and honest in condition, adorned with virtuous qualities correspondent● is like a goodly pleasant flower decked with the colours of all the flowers of the garden: and such a one (quoth he) is Mirimida, and therefore though she be poor I will love her and like her; and if she will fancy me I will make her my wife. And upon this he resolved to prosecute his suit towards her, in so much that assoon as he came home and had rested himself a while, he stepped to his standish and wrote her a letter.  
Radagon was not more pained with this passionate maladif than poor Eurymachus, who could t●ke no r●st, although every day in her presence he fed his eye with the beauty of her face: but as the Hidaspis' the more he drinks the more thirsty he is; so Eur●machus the more he looked the more he loved, as having his eye deeply enamoured of the object; reveal any more his su●e he durs● not, because wh●n he began to that of love she sha●● him off● and either 〈◊〉 ●way in a rage, or else forced him to fall to other prattle; in so much that he determined to discourse his mind in a letter● which he performed as cunningly as he could & sent it her●  
Mullido● that ass r●pt out his reasons divers ●imes to Mirimida, until she was weary of the 〈…〉 fooleries, and so with a sharp wor● or two ●ip● him on the pate: whereupon ask his mother's counsel, she persuaded him to write v●to Mirimida, although he and a p●n wer● as fit as an ●●●e and ● harpe● 〈…〉 and stealing into the Churchyard under an Appletrees 〈◊〉 in his muses he framed a letter and sent it her.  
Thus had Fortune (meaning to be merry) appointed in her secret synod that all these three should use one means to possess their loves, & brought it so to pass that the three letters from these three rivals were delivered at one instant: which when Mirimida saw, she sat her down and laughed, wondering at the rareness of the chance that should in a moment bring such a conceit to pass; at last (for as then she was leading forth her sheep) she sat her down, and looking on the superscription said to herself; what Adamants are fair faces that can draw both rich, poor & fools to lodge in the labyrinth of their beauties: at this she sighed, & the first letter she broke open, because he was her first lover, was Eurymachus. The contents whereof were these.  
Eurymachus the Shepherd to Mirimida the Goddess of Thessaly.  
WHen (Mirimida) I sit by thy sweet self & wonder at thy sight, feeding as the be upon the wealth of thy beauties, the conceit of ●hine excellency drives me into an ecstasy, that I became dumb with over much delight; for Nature sets down this as an authentic principle: 
Sensibile sensui suppositum nulla fi● sensatio.  If the flower be put in the nostril there is no smell; the colour clapped close to the eye blemisheth the sight: so a lover in presence of his mistress hath the organs of his speech tied, that he conceals with silence, a●d sighs out his smothered passions with sorrows. Ah Mirimida, consider that love is such a fire as either will burst forth or burn the house; it is such a stream as will either have his course, or break through the banks & make a deluge, or else force their heart strings crack with secrecy. Then Mirimida, if I be lavish in my pen, blame me not that am so laden with love; if I be bold, attribute it to thy beauty, not my impudency, & think what I over dare in, it grows through the extremity of loyal affection, which is so deeply imprinted in my thoughes, as neither time can diminish nor misfortune blemish. I aim not (Mirimida) at thy wealth, but at thy virtues; for the more I consider thy perfection, the more I grow passionate, & in such an humour, as if thou deny, there is no means to cure my malady but that salve which healeth all incurable sores, & that is ●eath. Therefore (sweet Mi●imida) consider of my loves & use me as my loyalty deserves: let not my poverty put in any bar, nor the baseness of my birth be● any excuse of thy affection; weigh my desires, not ●y degrees, & either send me a speedy pla●ster to salve my despairing passions, or a corrosive to cut off my linger sorrows, either thy favour with life, or thy denial with death, between which I rest in hope till I hear thine answer.  
Thine, who can be no others but thine, the Shepherd Eurymachus.  
To the end of this letter (for that he would run descant upon his wit) he set down a Sonnet written in the form of a Madrigale, thus.  

Eurimachus in laudem Mirimidae, his Motto Inuita fortuna dedi vota concordia.  
When Flora proud in pomp of all her flowers  
Sat bright and gay,  
And gloried in the d●aw of Iris showers,  
And did display  
Her mantle chequered all with gaudy green:  
Then I  
Alone  
A mournful man in Er●cine was seen.   

With folded arms I trampled through the grass,  
Tracing as he  
That held the Throne of Fortune brittle glass,  
And love to be  
Like Fortune fleeting as the restless wind  
Mixed  
With mists  
Whose damp doth make the clearest eyes grow blind.   

Thus in a maze I spied a hideous flame,  
I cast my sight,  
And saw where blythly bathing in the ●ame  
With great delight,  
A worm did lie, wrapped in a smoky sweat:  
And yet  
'twas strange  
It careless lay and shrunk not at the heat.   

I stood amazed and wondering at the sight,  
While that a dame  
That shone like to the heavens rich sparkling light,  
Discoursed the same:  
And said, my friend this worm within the fire  
Which lies  
Content,  
Is Venus' worm, and represents desire.   

A Salamander is this princely beast,  
Decked with a crown,  
Given him by Cupid as a gorgeous erest  
'Gainst fortune's frown,  
Content he lies and baths him in the flame,  
And goes  
Not forth  
For why he cannot live without the same.   

As he: so lovers lie within the fir●  
Of fervent love,  
And shrink not from the flame of hot desire●  
Nor will not move  
From any heat, that Venus' force imparts:  
But lie  
Conten●  
Within a fire and waste away their hearts.   

Up flew the da●● and vanished in a cl●wd●,  
But there stood I,  
And many thoughts within my mind did shroud  
Of love: for why,  
I felt within my heart a scorching fire,  
And yet  
As did  
The Salamander, 'twas my whole desire.   
Mirimida having read this Sonnet, she strait (being of a pregnant wit) conceited the drift of his Madrigale, smiled and laid it by, and then next took up Radagons' letter, which was written to this effect.  
Radagon of Thessaly to the fair Shepherdize Mirimida health.  
I Cannot tell (fair Mistress) whether I should praise Fortune as a friend, or curse her as a foe, having at unwares presented me with the view of your perfection, which sight may be either the sun of my bliss, or the beginning of my vale: for in you rests the balance either to weigh me down my 〈◊〉 with courte●●e, or my denial with extreme unkindness. Such as are prick with the bones of the Dolphin, hear music and they are presently ●eales of their malady; they which are i●ne●ymed with the Upper, rub the so●e with Rhubarb and feel● a remedy, and those which drink Aco●iton are cured by Antidotes. But love is like the sting of a Scorpion, it must be salved by affection; for neither charm, hear●e, stone, nor mineral hath virtue to cure it: which made Apollo exclave this passion.  
Hei mihi quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis.  
With the same distress (sweet Mirimida) am I pained, who lighting by chance as Paris did in the vale of Ida upon Venus, have seen a brighter Danie than Venus; but I fear me less courteous than Venus. I have no golden apple (fair Nymph) to present thee with, so to prove thee supreme of beauty; but the devotion of my thoughts is offered humbly at thy feet, which shall ever confess none so beauteous as Mirimida. Then as Venus for reward gave Paris Helena, so courteous Nymph be prodigal of thy favours and give me thy heart, which shall be to me more dear than a hundred Helen's.  
But here perhaps thou wilt object, that men's pleas are like Painter's pencils, which draw no substance but shadows, that to the worst proportions give the richest colours, and to the coarsest pictures the finest glasses, that what we writ is of course, and when we feign passions, then are we least passionate, having sorrowful pens when we have secure hearts, and louring looks when we have laughing thoughts. I cannot deny (sweet Mistress) but that hot loves are like a bavins blaze, and that men can promise more in a moment than they will perform in a month. I know there was a Demophon that deceived Phillis, an Aeneas that falsified his faith to Dido, a Theseus that forsook his Ariadne: yet measure not all by some men's minds; of a few particular instances, conclude not general axioms; though some have been fleetings think not all to be false; try me, I refer your passions to my proof, and as you find me loyal so reward me with love. I crave no authentical grant, but a superficial favour: say (Mirimida) that Radagon shall be welcome if he be faithful, and then my hope shall comfort my heart. In which suspense ● rest confused, at the bar of your courtesy. Farewell.  
Mirimidas Radagon, though she will not be Radagons Mirimida.  
This she read over twice and blushed at it, as feeling a little heat, but strait she sighed and shake it from her heart, and had laid it by, but that turning over the next page she espied certain verses, which was a Canzon per● thus.  

Radagon in Dianam Non fuga Tencrus amat: quae ●amen odit habet.  
It was a valley gaudy green,  
Where Diana at the fount was seen,  
Green it was,  
And did pass  
All other of Diana's bowers,  
In the pride of Flora's flo●●●s.   

A fount it was that no Sun sees,  
Circled in with Cipres trees,  
Set so nigh,  
As Phoebus' eye  
Can not do the Virgins seathe,  
To see them naked when they bathe.   

She sat there all in white,  
Colour ●i●ting her delight,  
Virgins so  
Ought to go:  
For white in armory is placed  
To be the colour that is chaste.   

Her ta●t a Cassock might you see  
Tucked up above her knee,  
Which did show  
There below  
Legs as white as whales bone.  
So white and chaste was never non●.   

Hard by her upon the ground,  
Sat her Virgins in a round  
Bathing their  
Golden hair,  
And singing all in notes high  
Fie on Venus' flattering eye.   

Fie on love it is a toy,  
Cupid witless and a boy,  
All his fires  
And desires  
Are plagues that God sent down from high,  
To pester men with misery.   

As thus the Virgins did disdain  
lovers joy and lovers pain,  
Cupid nigh  
Did espy,  
Grieving at Diana's song,  
Slyly stole these maids among.   

His bow of steel, darts of fire,  
He shot amongst them sweet desire●  
Which strait flies  
In their eyes.  
And at the entrance made them start,  
For it ran from eye to heart.   

Calisto strait supposed love  
Was fair and frolic for to love:  
Diana she  
Scaped not free:  
For well I wots hereupon  
She loved the swain Endymion.   

Clitia Phoebus, and Cloris eye  
Thought none so fair as Mercu●ie:  
Venus thus  
Did discuss  
By her son in darts of fire,  
None so chaste to check desire.   

Diana rose with all her maids,  
Blushing thus at loves braids,  
With sighs all  
Show their thrall.  
And flinging hence pronounce ●his saw,  
What so strong as Lou●● sweet l●w?   
Mirimida having read the letter of Radagon, perceived that love was in his eyes, and perhaps had smylie touched hi● heart: but she that was chary of her choice, and resolute not to fetter herself with fancy, did pass over these passions, as men d●● the shadows of a painter's pensell● which while they view they praise, and when they have praised, pass over without any more remembrance: yet she could not but enter into the humorous ●each of his conceit, how he checked the coy disdain of women in his Sonnet, she blushed, and her thoughts went away with her ●loud, and so she lighted on the letter that Mullidor had sent her, which drove her into a pleasant vain. The effects of his passions were these.  
Mullidor the malcontent, with his pen clapped full of love, to his Mistress Mirimida greeting.  
AFter my hearty Commendations remembered, hoping y●● be in as g●●d health as I was at the making hereof. This is to certi●●● you, that love may well be compared 〈◊〉 a bottle of hay, which once set 〈…〉 or to a cup full of strong ale, which when a man hath once tasted, he never leaves till he hath drunk it all up: so Mistress Mirimida, after the furious flames of your two eyes had set my poor heart on the coals of love, I was so scorthed on the grediron of affection, that I had no rest till I was almost turned to a c●ale, and after I had tasted of the liquor of your sweet phisnomy, I never left supping of your amiable countenance, till with love I am almost ready to burst. Consider with yourself fair Shepheardize, that poor men feel pain as well as Princes; that Mullidor is sick of such a malady, as by no means can be cured, unless yourself lay a cerecloth to draw away my sorrows: then be pitiful to me lest you be counted disdainful, to put so trusty a lover out of his right wits; for there's no ho but either's I must have you, or else for very plain love run mad. It may be (Mirimida) you think me too base for your beauty: why? when you have married me I am content to serve you as a man, and to do all those endeavours that belongs to a servant, and rather to hold you for my Mistress than my wife. Then seeing you shall have the sovereignty at my hands, which is the thing that all women desire, love me sweet Mirimida, and think this, if you match with me, old Callena my mother hath that in a ●lowte that will do us both good. Thus hoping you will ponder my passions in your mind, and be more courteous than to cast away a young man for love. Farewell.  
Yours half mad because he would be yours, Mullidor the malcontent.  
Such a poetical ●urie took Mullidor in the brains, that he thought to show his vain in verse, and therefore annexed to his letter this pleasant Ditty.  

Mullidors' Madrigale.  
Dildido dildido,  
Oh love, oh love,  
I feel thy rage rumble below and above.   

In summer time I saw a face,  
Trope bell pourmoy alas alas,  
Like to a st●●nd horse was her pace:  
Was ever young man so dismayed,  
Her eyes like wax torches did make me afraid,  
Trop bell pour moy voila mon trespass.   

Thy beauty (my Love) exceedeth supposes,  
Thy hair is a nettle for the nicest roses,  
Mon dieu aide moy,  
That I with the primrose of my fresh wit,  
May tumble her tyranny under my feet,  
He donque ie sera un ie●ne roy.  
Trope bell pour moy alas alas,  
Trop bell pour moy voyla mon trespass.   
Mirimida having read this humorous fancy of Mullidor, began thus to meditate with herself. Listen not fond wench to love, for if thou dost thou learnest to lose, thou shal● find grief to be the gains, and folly the paymistr●is that rewards all amorous travels. If thou web thyself to Radagon, thou aimest beyond thy reach: and looking higher than thy fortunes, thou wilt repent thy desires; for Mirimida affects beyond compass, have ofttime infortutunate effects; rich robes have not ever sweet consent, and therefore the mean 〈◊〉 the merriest honour. What then, mu●t Eurymachus of all these t●●●● be the man that must make up the match; he is a shepherd and harbours quiet in his cottage, his wishes are not above his wealth, nor doth his conceit climb higher than his deserts. He hath sufficient to shroud thee from wa●●, and to maintain the state of an honest life. Shepherd's wrong not their wives with suspicion, nor do country Swains esteem less of their loves than higher degrees. But Mirimida, mean men have frowns as wel● as kings; the least hair hath his shadow, the Fly her spleen, the Ant her gall, and the poorest Perceant his chol●er. Peasant's can wield a cudgel better than a great Lord, and dissension will have a fling amongst th● meanest. 〈◊〉 therefore marriage must have her inconvenience, better golden gives than iron fetters. What sayest thou then to Mullidor? that he is Mullidor, and let that suffice to shake him off for a fool; for it were thy discredit to have only a woodcock to keep the wolf from the door. Why then, meanest thou not to love? No fond lass if thou be wise; for what is sweeter than liberty? and what burden heavier than the fist of a froward husband. Amongst many Scorpions thou lookest for one E●le; amongst a hedge full of nettles for one flower; amongst a thousand flatterers for one that is faithful; & yet when thou hast him thy thoughts are at his will, and thy actions are limited to his hum●●rs. Beware Mirimida, strike not at a stolen because it is painted; though honey be sweet Bees have stings; there is no sweeter life than chastity, for in that estate thou shair live commended and uncontrolled.  
Upon this she put up the letters, and because she would not lead her Lovers into a labyrinth of hope, the appointed them all to meet her at the Shéepfolds on one day and at one hour, where the Wooers that ●●ood upon thorns to hear her censure met without fail. After salutes post between Mirimida and them, she began to parley with them thus.  
Gentlemen, all rivals in love and ●●me●s at o●● fortun●● though you three affect like desire to have M●rimidas favour, yet but one of you can were the flower, and perhaps none, for it is as my fancy censures: therefore are you content that I shall set down which of you, or whether none of you shall enjoy the end of you● suits, and who so is forsaken, to part hence with patience and never more to talk of his passions. To this they all agreed and she made this answer. Why then Radagon and E●●ymachus wear you two the Willow Garland, not that I hold either your degrees or deserts worthless of a fairer than Mirimida: but that the destinies do so appoint to my desires, that your affects cannot work in me any effects. At this, Radagon and Eurymachus frowned, not so much that they were forsaken, but that so beautiful a creature would wed herself to such a deformed ass as Mullidor, and the fool he simpered it in hope to have the wench. Now (quoth she) Mullidor may hope to be the man: but trust me as I found him I leave him, a dolt in his loves, and a fool in his fortunes. At this they laughed and he hung the head, and she left them all. Radagon taking his hawk to go fly the Partridges Eurymachus marching with his sheephook to the folds; Mullidor ●ying home to his mother to recount his mishaps, and Mirimida singing that there was no Goddess to Diana, no life to liberty, nor no love to chastity.  
Francisco, Isab●l, and all the rest of the guests applauded this discourse of the pleasant Host: and for that it was late in the night they all rose, and taking their leave of Francisco departed, he and his wife bidding their Host good night, and so going to bed, where we leave them to lead the rest of their lives in quiet.  
Thus (quoth the Palmer) you have heard the discovery of ●ouths follies, and a true discourse of a Gentleman's fortunes.  
But now courteous Palmer (quoth the Gentleman) ●t rests that we crave by your own promise the reason of your pilgrimage to Venice. That (quoth the Palmer) is discoursed in a word: for know sir, that enjoining myself to penance for the follies of my youths passions having lived in love, and therefore reap all my loss by loue●●earing that of all the Cities in Europe, Venice hath most semblance of Venus' vanities. I go thither not only to see fashions, but to quip at folly's, that I may draw others from that harm that hath brought me to this hazard. The Gentlewomen of Venice your neighbours, but unknown to me, have more favours in their faces than virtue in their thoughts; and their beauties are more curious than their qualities be precious, caring more to be figured out with Helen, than to be famozed with Lucrece; they strive to make their faces gorgeous, but never seek to fit their minds to their God, and covet to have more knowledge in love than in religion: their eyes bewray their wantonness, not their modesty; & their looks are lures that reclaim not Hawks, but make them only bate at dead stales: As the Gentlewomen so are the men, lose livers and strait lovers, such as hold their conscience in their purses and their thoughts in their eyes, counting that hour ill spent that in fancy is not misspent. Because therefore this great City of Venice is holden loves Paradise, thither do I direct my pilgrimage, that seeing their passions, I may being a palmer, win them to penance, by showing the miseries that Venus mi●eth with her momentary contents: if not, yet I shall carry home to my countrymen salves to cure their sores; I shall see much, hear little, and by the insight into other men's extremes, return both the more wary and the more wise. What I see at Venice (sir) and what I note there, when I return back, I mean to visit you and make you privy to all.  
The heedful Host having judicially understood the pitiful report of the palmer, giving truce to his passions with the tears he spent, and resolved to requite that thankfully which he had attended heedfully, gave this Catastrophe to his sad and sorrowful discourse. Palmer, thou hast with the Kitrell foreshowed the storm ere it comes, painting out the shapes of love as lively, as the Grapes in Zeuxis Tables were portrayed cunningly; thou hast lent youth Egle eyes to behold the Sun; Achilles' sword to cut and recure, leaving those medicines to salve others, that hath lost thyself, and having burnt ●hy wings with t●e 〈…〉 dallying too long with th●●●re● thou hast bequeathe● other● a lesson with the Unicorn to prevent poison by preserves before thou taste with the lip. The only request I make in requital of my attention, is, that thou leave certain testimonies on these walls, where●n whensoever I look, I shall remember Francescos follies and thy foresight.  
The Palmer esteeming the courteous reply of his hos●, and desirous to satisfy his request, drawing blood from the vain Cephalia, (on an arch of white ivory erected at the end of an Arbour, adorned with Honysuckles and Roses) he wrote thus with a pencil.  

In greener years when as my greedy thoughts  
'Gan yield their homage to ambitious will,  
My feeble wit that then prevailed noughts,  
Perforce presented homage to his ill:  
And I in follies bonds fulfilled with crime,  
At last unloosed: thus spied my loss of time.   

As in his circular and ceaseless ray  
The year gins, and in itself returns  
Refreshed by presence of the eye of day,  
That sometimes ni● and sometimes far sojourns:  
So love in me (conspiring my decay)  
With endless fire my heedless bosom burns,  
And from the end of my aspiring sin,  
My paths of error hourly doth begin.   

Aries.  
When in the Ram the Sun renews his beams,  
Beholding mournful earth arrayed in grief,  
That waigh●●eliefe from his refreshing gleams,  
The tender flocks rejoicing their relief  
Do leap for joy and lap the silver streams.  
So a● my prime when youth in me was chief,  
All Heifer like with wanton horn I played,  
And by my will my wit to love betrayed.   

Taurus.  
When Phoebus with Europa's bearer bides,  
The Spring appears, impatient of delays  
The labourer to the fields his plough swains guides,  
He sows, he plants, he builds at all assays,  
When prime of years that many errors hides,  
By fancy's force did trace ungodly ways,  
I blindfold walked disdaining to behold,  
That life doth vade, and young men must be old.   

Gemini.  
When in the hold whereas the Twins do rest,  
Proud Phlaegon breathing fire doth post amain:  
The trees with leaves, the earth with flowers is dressed:  
When I in pride of years with peevish brain  
Presumed too far and made fond love my guest;  
Wi●h frosts of care my flowers were nipped amain.  
〈◊〉 height of weal who bears a careless heart,  
Reputes too late his over foolish part.   

Cancer.  
When in Aestivall Cancers gloomy bower,  
The greater glory of the heavens doth shine;  
The air is calm, the birds at every stowre  
To tempt the heavens with harmony divine.  
When I was ●irst enthralled in Cupid's power,  
In vanei I spent the May-month of my time●  
Singing for joy to see me captive thrall  
To him, whose gains are grief, whose comfort small.   

Leo.  
When in the height of his Meridian walk  
The Lion's hold contains the eye of day,  
The riping corn grows yeolow in the stalk,  
When strength of years did bless me every way.  
Masked with delights of folly was my talk,  
Youth ripened all my thoughts to my decay:  
In lust I sowed, my fruit was loss of time;  
My hopes were proud, and yet my body slime.   

Virgo.  
When in the Virgin's lap earth's comfort sleeps,  
Bating the furi● of his burning eyes,  
Both corn and fruits are firmed, & comfort creeps  
On every plant and flower that springing rise:  
When age at last his chief dominion keeps,  
And leads me on to see my vanities;  
What love and scant foresight did make me sow●  
In youthful years, is ripened now in woe.   

Libra.  
When in the Balance Daphne's Leman blins  
The Ploughman gathereth fruit for passed pain:  
When I at last considered on my sins,  
And thought upon my youth and follies vain;  
I cast my count, and reason now gins  
To guide mine eyes with judgement, bought with pain,  
Which weeping wish a better way to find,  
Or else for ever to the world be blind.   

Scorpio.  
When with the Scorpion proud Apollo plaies●  
The wines are trodden and carried to their press,  
The woods are f●ld 'gainst winter's sharp affrays:  
When graver years my judgements did address,  
I 'gan repair my ruins and decay:  
Exchanging will to wit and soothfastness:  
Claiming from Time and Age no good but this,  
To see my sin, and sorrow for my miss.   

Sagittarius.  
When as the Archer in his Winter hold  
The Delian Harper tunes his wont love,  
The ploughman sows and tills his laboured mould;  
When with advise and judgement I approve,  
How Love in youth hath grief for gladness sold,  
The seeds of shame I from my heart remove,  
And in their steads I set down plants of Grace  
And with repent bewailed my youthful race.   

Capricornus.  
When he that in Eurotas silver glide  
Doth bane his tress, beholdeth Capricorn,  
The days grows short, then hasts the winter tied  
The Sun with sparing lights doth seem to mourn,  
Grace is the green, the flowers their beauty hides:  
When as I see that I to death was borne,  
My strength decayed, my grave already dressed,  
I count my life my loss, my death my best.   

Aquarius.  
When with Aquarius Phoebe's brother stays,  
The blithe and wanton winds are whist & still,  
Cold frost and snow the pride of earth betrays:  
When age my head with hoary hairs doth fill,  
Reason sits down, and bids me count my days,  
And pray for peace, and blame my froward will:  
In depth of grief in this distress I cry,  
Peccavi Domine, miserere mei.   

Pisces.  
When in the Fish's mansion Phoebus dwells,  
The days renew, the earth regains his rest:  
When old in years, my want my death foretells:  
My thoughts & prayers to heaven are whole addressed  
Repentance youth by folly quite expels,  
I long to be dissolved for my best,  
That young in zeal long beaten wi●h my rod,  
I may grow old to wisdom & to God.   
The palmer had no sooner finished his circle, but the Host over read his conceit, and wondering at the excellency of his wit, from his experience began to suck much wisdom, & being very loath to detain his guest too long: after they had broken their fast, and the goodman of the ●ouse courteously had given him thanks for his favour, the Palmer set forward towards Venice: what there he did, or how he lived, when I am advertised (good Gentlemen) I will send you tidings. Mean while, let every one learn (by Francescoes fall) to beware, least at last (too late) they be enforced to bewail.    
FINIS.