MAMILLIA.  
The second part of the triumph of Pallas: WHEREIN WITH PERPETVAL fame the constancy of Gentlewomen is canonized, and the unjust blasphemies of women's supposed fickleness (breathed out by diverse injurious persons) by manifest examples clearly infringed.  
BY ROBERT GREEN Master of Arts, in Cambridge.  
LONDON Printed by Th. C. for William Ponsonbie. 1593.   

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, AND HIS ESPECIAL friends, Robert Lee and Roger Portington Esquires, Robert green wisheth health, wealth, and prosperity.  
THe Philosopher Hermes (right worshipful) being demanded why continually he carried the stone Celonites about with him, answered, least happily he might become unthankful. Meaning hereby that ingratitude is such a loathsome vice in a liberal mind, and such a monstrous offence so repugnant to nature, that the forfeit of such a fault can be no less than the extremity of death can afford. For the nature of the stone is presently to deprive him of life which is infected with ingratitude. Which saying of Hermes thoroughly considered, and calling to mind the innumerable benefits and infinite good turns which I have received at your worship's hands, finding my ability far unfit to requite such courtesy, I was driven into a doubtful Dilemma, whether excusing myself by disability I should incur the suspicion of ingratitude, or in offering such simple stuff my insufficiency could afford, I should be counted impudent. Staying thus in suspense, I shaked off the shakles with calling to remembrance the saying of a poor Painter in Sienna, who offering a simple picture to Charles the second, being a present far unfit for such a Potentate, demanded how he durst offer such a base gift to so princely a parsonage. I feared not (quoth he) in that I knew he was our Emperor, knowing that it was kingly to accept of a gift though never so simple, and the sign of a worthy mind to think as well of the poor man's mite as of the rich man's treasure. Artaxerxes received thankfully the handful of water offered to him by a poor peasant, Cyrus was presented with a Pomegranate, and jupiter himself vouchsafed of the grain of wheat which the poor Pismire offered to him for a new years gift. Pricked forward (right worshipful) with these examples, I was the more bold to present this unworthy work as a witness of my unfeigned good will and affection, assuming so upon your worship's wont courtesies, as I assure myself you will accept of this my toy be it never such a trifle, and vouchsafe of my good will though the gift be never so simple: Promising that if hereafter either my wit or skill shall be able to yield any better fruit, I will offer it at your worships shrine, that all the world may know you are the two Saints to whom in heart I own most dutiful devotion. Hoping in the mean time that you will accept more of my will than of the work, and of my meaning more than of the matter, I commit your worships to the Almighty. From my Study in Clarehall the seven. of julie.  
Yours Worships bounden to command, ROBERT GREEN.   

TO THE GENTLEMEN READERS, HEALTH.  
ALexander the great (Gentlemen) commanding a certain Embroderer to work him a most curious carpet, who in deed was so unskilful in his science, as his work amongst mean men could carry small credit, stayed almost two years ere the work was performed, and at last presenting that unperfect piece to his Majesty, Alexander smiled at the folly of the man which would enterprise such a curious work having so small cunning: and being demanded of his Lords, how he liked of the carpet, answered, that how bad so ever the work were, he must needs think it passing curious, because it was so long in working. I fear Gentlemen to incur the like forfeit with the Embroderer because I have committed the like offence, for both I shall be appeached of folly for presuming so far without skill, and condemned of sloth, in that I have been breeding a Mouse while others would have brought forth an Elephant. And also I shall fear, if Gentlemen speak well of my work, that they jest with Alexander, and though they know my want of wit and lack of skill to merit dispraise, yet they will Ironice say all is well, because it hath been so long in penning. Well (Gentlemen) let Momus mock, and Zoilus envy, let Parasites flatter, and sycophants smile, yea, let the savage Satire himself, whose cynical censure is more severe than need, frown at his, pleasure, I hope honest Gentlemen will make account of Mamillia for her modest constancy, although she hath not the Pumistone of learning to polish her words with superficial eloquence: and so (Gentlemen) shrouding her under your courteous protection, hoping you will think well of my toy, I bid you farewell.  
Robert Greene..   

RICHARD STAPLETON GENTLEMAN, TO THE CURTEOUS and Courtly Ladies of England.  
YE peerless Dames of Pallas crew,  
and Britain Ladies all  
Addicted to Diana's train  
your sacred Nymphs I call,  
And vestal virgins whose renown  
shrines up your lasting name,  
Yea all the crew of womankind,  
come hear your passing fame  
Displayed abroad with golden trump,  
which soundeth out so shrill,  
As that your praise in learned prose,  
shall all Europa fill.  
See here with sugared happy style,  
as in a perfect glass,  
He figureth forth how Venus' troop,  
in loyal faith surpass  
The martial brood of Mars his train,  
deciphering to their face,  
That Pallas Ladies for their faith,  
do daunt them with disgrace.  
With pen he paints your constancy,  
with pen he here displays,  
Your faith, your troth, your loyalty,  
and what imports your praise.  
And champion like he challenge makes,  
with Lady Pallas shield,  
To stand in arms against your foes  
in open camped field.  
He first calls out Euripides  
which your reproach assigned,  
And challenge makes to Mantuan,  
which so blasphemed your kind.  
He jars likewise with Iwenall,  
and mazeth Martial quite,  
He doth profess himself a foe  
to all that own you spite,  
And plainly proves by reasons rule  
that every Author's clause,  
Which rashly rails of womankind,  
comes more of spite than cause.  
Sith than you peerless Britain Dames,  
your Champion here in place  
Sounds forth your praise, defends your right,  
defies your foes in face:  
Repay such guerdon for his pain,  
as he deserves to have,  
I mean to shroud Mamillia safe,  
'tis that the Author crave,  
Your wits and wills, your tongue and talk,  
against all those to use,  
Which shall like biting Momus brood  
his book or him abuse.  
RICHARD STAPLETON Gentleman.   

MAMILLIA. The Triumph of Pallas.  
AFter that Pharicles under the profession of a Pilgrim was parted from the coasts of Italy, his secret and sudden departure caused all the citizens of Padua to conjecture diversly of the cause of his journey, but especially it drove such a doubt into the sorrowful heart of Mamillia, and struck such a dump into the musing mind of her father Gonsaga, as it was hard to guess whether Mamillia conceived greater grief for the unkind departure of her new betrothed friend, or her father sorrow, in that he gave his consent of so chary chaffer to so churlish a chapman: But whether it were, no doubt their care was greater than their well meaning minds in any respect had deserved, and by so much the more their sorrow increased, by how much the report of Pharicles supposed Pilgrimage was to his great reproach daily bruited abroad the City: Gonsaga supposing Pharicles discredit considering the late contract, to breed his daughters utter infamy. For the Citizens gave their verdict of the Gentleman's journey as their fond affection had persuaded them to think either well or ill of his person: his friends supposing the best, said, that he meant to spend his time in travel until the next spring, wherein he meant to consummate the marriage his foes contrariwise conjecturing the worst, said that his pompous prodigality and rich attire, were the two blazing stars and careful comets which did always prognosticate some such event in tract of time should happen, and that his sumptuous expenses had so racked his revenues, wasted his patrimony, and brought his wealth to such a low ebb, as being fallen into an english consumption, there remained no hope of his health, unless he meant for debt to take his Inns in S. Patrick's purgatory. But these dry blows could draw no blood, this wavering wind could shake no corn, neither could those spiteful reports of his protested foes any jot move Mamillia to think evil of her professed friend, & by so much the less, in that she knew his revenues were able to maintain a greater port than ever he carried in Padua. But as thus her panting heart wavered between fear and hope, it was for certainty told her and her father by a secret friend, that Pharicles was either married or betrothed to her cousin Publia, and the sting of conscience so cumbered his guilty mind for committing this troathlesse treachery, that the shame of so hapless a fact caused him to take this unhappy journey. This tale not fully finished, Mamillia stood upon thorns cast beyond the moon, and conjectured that which neither the tale did import, nor Pharicles himself imagine: but the less she was to be blamed, because the more perfect love, as the sooner it is drenched with the misling showers of distrust, and this direful distrust is such a hellish foe to the heavy mind, that it suffers the passionate person to take no rest till manifest trial hath razed out this foolish frenzy, which Mamillia tried true: for cumbered thus with the clog of care, she conveyed herself covertly into her closet, where surcharged with the sorrow of this noisome news, she burst forth into bitter tears and baleful terms to this effect.  
With what greater plague quoth she, can either the unjust gods or cruel destinies wreck their wrath and exreme rigour upon any man, than whiles he safely floats in the seas of prosperity, to overwhelm him with the raging waves of adversity, than amidst the happy gale of good luck, to daunt him with the storms of disaster fortune, than to repay his bliss with bale, his joy with annoy, and his happy felicity with most hapless & distressed misery? And yet there is no sore so ill, but it seems more sour being remediless, than if it might be cured with cunning, nor no wound so deep, but it is thought more dangerous being incurable, than if either nature or art had provided a salve to heal it, nor no misfortune so great but it seems more grievous if there be left no hope that the present misery may in time be requited with prosperity. For where the conserve of hopes is wanting to comfort the distressed heart, there the corrosive of despair doth so fret asunder the molested mind as it maketh the perplexed person to pine in perpetual calamity.  
All which alas I see performed by proof in me most miserable creature, which o'late safely harboured in the haven of happiness, and so fostered up by fortune as she seemed to will that I did wish, am now so daunted with the despite of sinister mishap, and so crossed with the rigorous repulse of frowning fortune by the disloyal dealing of flattering Pharicles, as my weal to woe, my happiness to heaviness, yea all my joy and delight is turned to extreme sorrow and despite: and by so much the more this my grief is intolerable, by how much the more there remaineth the hope of redress. For alaste, too late it is to recall the stone already cast, to beat the bush the bird being flown, to break the bargain the bands being sealed, and to reclaim affection where both law and love hath fettered fancy with constraint, and as hard it is for thee poor Mamillia to hope to win Pharicles again to thy lure he being already seized on his desired prey, yea, so fast tied to his tackling with thy cousin Publia, as no means but death can break the bargain, no the knot is so knit, that if Pharicles himself did will what thou didst wish, and would prove as lewd unto her as light unto thee, yet he strives against the stream, and seeks to bear sail both against wind and weather: for as he was assured unto thee by promise, so he is betrothed unto her by performance: as he was linked unto thee (as thou supposedst) in the perfect league of amity, so he is (for certain) coupled unto her in the perfect law of matrimony.  
O ingrateful and perjured Pharicles, hath the constant state of thy Mamillia procured thy inconstancy? hath her troth made the treacherous? hath her love made thee disloyal? wilt thou digress so far from nature, and resist the law of nurture, as to repay faith with flattery, sincere affection with feigned fancy, and good will with hate? hast thou no more care of thy credit but to crack it with inconstancy? nor no more regard to thy solemn oath than to foil it with perjury? Why was nature so fond under so fine a shell to hide so rotten a kernel, under such golden feathers such rank flesh, under the shape of a Lamb the substance of a Tiger, under so sweet a face so sour a mind, to match so currsh conditions under so courteous a countenance, so perfect a person with such imperfect qualities, so fine a feature with such filthy flattery?  
Why but Mamillia can these sorrowful exclamations cure thy malady, or can the rubbing of thy wound procure thine ease? nay rather remember the old proverb, not so common as true, past cure, past care, without remedy without remembrance? Wilt thou prove so fond to set that at thy heart which Pharicles sets at his heel, to weep for him which wails not for thee: to sorrow for his amity which laughs at thy misery? No no, cast away care, let the remembrance of his treachery mitigate the fire of thy fancy, like not where thou art not loved, nor love not where thou finds such inconstancy: as he hath made a change, so make thou a new choice, for since he hath falsified his faith without cause, thou art free from thy promise without care: yea as he hath laid his love upon Publia, so lay thou thy liking upon some other gentleman which both for his person and parentage may deserve as well to be loved as he to be liked, and in so doing shalt thou content thy parents, procure thine own ease, and pay Pharicles his debt in the same coin.  
Why Mamillia art thou mad, or is fancy turned into frenzy? Shall the cowardice of the Kistrel make the Falcon fearful? Shall the dread of the Lamb make the Lion a dastard? Shall the lewdness of Pharicles procure thy lightness, or his inconstancy make thee wavering? His new desire in choice make thee delight in change? Shall I say his fault make thee offend, his want of virtue force thee yield to vanity? If he by committing perjury be a discredit unto men, wilt thou by falsifying thy promise be an utter infamy to women? No the Gods forbidden. For since Pharicles first won me, either he himself or none shall wear me, and although he hath cracked his credit, violated his oath-falsified his faith, and broke his protested promise, yet his inconstancy shall never make me to waver, nor his fléeting fancy shall not diminish mine affection. But in despite both of him and fortune, I will be his in dust & ashes. Y●●●uen that unfaithful Pharicles shall be the saint at whose sh●●●e I mean to do my devotion until my hapless heart through extreme sorrow receive the stroke of untimely death, which if it come not speedily, these hands enforced by despair, by some sinister means shall end my misery, and with that such scalding tears distilled from her crystal eyes, as they were sufficient witnesses of her insupportable sorrow.  
Where, by the way, Gentlemen, if fond affection be not prejudicial unto your judgement, we are by conscience constrained to condemn those unseemly satires and vain invectives, wherein with taunting terms and cutting quips diverse injurious persons most unjustly accuse Gentlewomen of inconstancy, they themselves being such coloured Chameleons, as their fondness is so manifest, that although like Aesop's ass they clad themselves in a Lion's skin, yet their ears will bewray what they be: yea they accuse women of wavering when as they themselves are such weathercocks as every wind can turn their tippets, and every new face make them have a new fancy, dispraising others as guilty of that crime wherewith they themselves are most infected, most unjustly straining at a gnat, and letting pass an elephant, espying one dram of dross, and not seeing a whole tun of ore, so injuriously descanting upon some one dame which for her wavering mind perhaps deserveth dispraise, and not attributing due honour to so many thousand Ladies which merit to be canonised as Saints for their incomparable constancy. But now their cavilling is so common, and their causeless condemning come to such a custom, as Gentlewomen think to be dispraised of a vain jangler rather bringeth commendation than inferreth discredit, esteeming their words as wind and their talk as tales: yea their despiteful speeches carry so little credit, as every man thinks they rather come of course than of cause, & that their cynical censures proceed rather of self will then either of right or reason. Well Gentlemen, if I might without offence infer comparison, we should plainly perceive that for inconstancy men are far more worthy to be condemned than women to be accused. For if we read the Roman records or Grecian histories, either feigned fables or true tales, yet we shall never find any man so faithful which hath surpassed women in constancy. Their only paragon whereof they have to boast is poor Pyramus, which killed himself for Thisbe, but to give them a sop of a more sharper sauce, let them tell me if ever any of their bravest champions offered to die for his wife as Admeta did for her husband Alcestis? What man ever swallowed burning coals as Portia did for Cato? Who so affectioned to his wife as Cornelia was to Gracchus? Who ever so sorrowed for the misfortune of his Lady as julia did for the mishap of her best beloved Pompey? Did ever any adventure such desperate dangers to enjoy his love as Hipsicratea did for her husband Mithridates? What should I speak of Tercia, Aemillia, Turia, Lentula, Penelope, or this our constant Mamillia with innumerable other, whose chastity faith & constancy toward their lovers could not even by the dint of death be changed? But least for saying my fancy some accuse me of flattery, again to Mamillia, who thus plunged in perplexity, & driven into the dangerous gulf of distrust, overcharged afresh with the remembrance of Pharicles discourtesy, had burst forth a new into her wonted tears, had not her father prevented her by coming into the closet, where finding her so bedewed with tears, yea in such distress as a woman half in despair, blamed her folly in this effect.  
Daughter, quoth he, as it is a sign of a careless mind not to be moved with mishap, so it is a token of folly to be careful without cause, and to be grieved for that which if it were justly weighed offereth at all no occasion of sorrow: in which you commit the fault, & deserve the blame, for your care is too great, & the cause none at all. The sudden departure of your friend Pharicles (as I guess) brought you into this dump, which in my fancy could breed no doubt: for although sundry and uncertain rumours be spread of his journey, and diverse men descant diversly of his departure, as fond affection leadeth them, his friends supposing the best excuse his fault, his foes mistrusting the worst accuse him of folly, and yet they both aim at the mark as the blind man shoots at the crow, Pharicles perhaps having so just occasion of his journey (as his speedy and happy return shall make manifest) that his friends by hoping well shall merit praise, and his foes by judging ill discredit. But perhaps the late report how either he was married or betrothed to your cousin Publia is the fretting canker which so cumbereth your disquiet conscience, which tale in my opinion as it was last set abroach, so it deserveth least trust, and especially on your behalf, since neither you have heard him counted for inconstant, nor you yourself have tried him wavering. Will you then be so light as to call his credit in suspense which never gave you occasion of suspicion, and reward him with distrust which never gave you occasion to doubt? No Mamillia, beware of such fondness, lest Pharicles hearing of your folly perform that in deed whereof you suspect him without desert. But suppose the worst, he hath falsified his faith, hath cracked his credit, and like a troathlesse Theseus proved himself a traitor: what then? Shall this his dissembling drive thee into despair? or his peevish inconstancy be thy perpetual care? No, but rather Mamillia as he hath stained his faith, so strain thou thy affection, as he hath fainted in performance, so fail thou in promise, yea learn to loathe him for his vice as thou lovedst him for his virtue, moderate thine affection, withdraw thy good will, and if thou hap to find him halting, race him quite out of thy remembrance, and in so doing it shall both please me and ease thee, in the mean time suppose the best.  
Mamillia perceiving her father's friendly affection by this his careful counsel, and seeing his talk tended to her weal, was driven into a doubtful dilemma what answer to frame: for if she should seem so light of love as to have her heart at liberty both to like and loath as fickle fancy led her, all the world might condemn her of inconstancy: again if she did not wholly agree to her father's judgement, he might think she did contemn his counsel and her own commodity: to avoid therefore the blame of disobedience and the blemish of discourtesy, she framed him an answer on this wise.  
Sir, quoth she, it is far more easy for the Physician to give counsel, than for the patiented to put it in practice, and a thing of less charge to find a fault than to amend it: yea it were an easy matter to be pricked with sorrow if the distressed man might assoon be cured as counseled: but to remove care or cease from grief is lightly persuaded, but very hardly performed, which by experience I find in myself. For I both know your counsel to be good, and also I most hearty desire to follow it, yet the grief of Pharicles ingratitude hath taken such deep root in my hapless heart that neither counsel nor constraint can raze it out of my remembrance. And whereas sir you persuade me to moderate mine affection, to withdraw my good will from Pharicles, and to quench the fire of fancy with the despiteful drops of hatred, I conjecture they be rather words of course to try my constancy, than spoken in good earnest to exhort me to such treachery. For you know I chose Pharicles for my mate, and you were content with the match, I fixed mine affection not to continue with him a year in dalliance, but to remain with him all my life in marriage, wherein no fond and uncertain liking but sincere and perpetual love is to be required: for to marry without the force of fancy, is to become a servile slave to sorrow. There must be a knitting of hearts before a striking of hands, and a constraint of the mind before a consent with the mouth, or else whatsoever the flower is, the fruit shall be repentance. Which things considered, I am not to be blamed, though I cannot leave to love at mine own pleasure, nor to be condemned though I am so overcharged with sorrow, sith an other shall enjoy him upon whom my heart is wholly fixed.  
Tush Mamillia quoth Gonzaga interrupting her talk, I say as I said before, that it is good to be careful if there were any cause, but since no occasion of sorrow is offered, why should you be overgrown with grief? Pharicles hath taken a sudden and uncertain journey, what then? Wilt thou condemn him of folly before thou hear the urgent cause of his speedy departure? No, but will you say the case is too manifest, and so infer the rumour of his late supposed marriage, which I deny as a most infamous slander raised upon so honest a Gentleman. And for better proof thereof come with me, for I will go to my brother Gostino, that there your cousin Publia may dissolve your doubt and confirm my hope, and so without any delay they hasted to hear the case decided.  
Where I cannot pass over without some speech, gentlewomen, the incomparable constancy of Mamillia, which was so surely defenced with the rampire of virtue, as all the fierce assaults of fortune could no whit prevail as prejudicial to such professed amity, no the feigned treachery of so troathlesse a traitor as Pharicles, did rather strengthen than astonish her infallible friendship: the counsel of her father, the fear of his displeasure, the hope of profit, or the dread of future danger, were of so little force to diminish her affection, as it rather remained by those contrary blasts of fortune far more inflamed than any whit extinguished.  
And yet infer Mamillia and a thousand other Ladies (who for their loyalty deserve as good report and as great renown) as perfect presidents against those unjust prattlers, which seek like sycophants to discredit women's constancy, and forsooth they must stand for no payment: but alas, if they spy one silly dame to halt or tread her shoe awry, her fault is as much as though all did offend, for they will exclaim against all in general, as though none were to be found guiltless. But it is no marvel if the silly Lamb be unjustly accused where the Wolf comes in as plaintiff.  
Well, Gonzaga being come to the house of his brother in law Gostyno, he found the old gentleman so far spent with his long and lingering sickness, that he was very loath with such frivolous questions to trouble his patience, yet after salutations and many words passed between them, wherein the one deciphred his pains, and the other lamented his case, the sick man uttering his grief with sighs, and the other his sorrow with tears, Gonzaga like a wily Fox found occasion to bring the matter in question so subtly, as Gostyno either not at all, or else very hardly spied the fetch, framing his talk to this or such like effect.  
Although Plato in the books of his common wealth doth counsel the Athenians not to visit any of their friends in time of adversity, except they could by some means redress their misery, because that comfort (saith he) is cold and unsavoury which cometh not bewrapt with some kind of remedy: yet as one condemning Plato's judgement in this case, I am come to comfort you as a friend, but not to cure you as a Physician, lest I might be thought to haunt my friend in his health, and hate him in his sickness, which either belongeth to a fool or a flatterer. But if I were as cunning a Physician as a constant friend, and had as great skill to cure as to counsel, yet if I take not my marks amiss, I should more profit you with good advise than with any potions were they never so sovereign. For your dangerous disease, which most importeth death, is age, and your sorest sickness is many years, I speak Gostyno the more boldly, sith I hear you are more willing to die than desirous to live, & that you seek more the wealth of your soul than the health of your body. In deed Appollonius Tianeus reporteth, that the Gymnosophists made a law, that no man having passed threescore years should buy any land before he made himself a grave, nor build any house before he had provided for himself a Sepulchre: because in age we ought to make more readiness to die than provisions to live, for the steel being spent, the knife cannot cut, the oil consumed the lamp goeth out, the Sun being set the day cannot tarry, the flower being fallen there is no hope of fruit, and old age being once come life cannot be lasting. You knowing therefore that nothing is so certain in old age as every day to look to die, having showed yourself both to be wise and wary, in that having but one only daughter, you both see her brought up in your life, and that which is more, most worshipfully married before your death, yea and to such a mate as she cannot but love for his person, and you like for his parentage and patrimony, I mean our friend & neighbour Pharicles, whose wit, wealth, and exquisite perfection both of mind and body, hath made all Padua astonished.  
Stay there quoth Gostyno, & think not much though I interrupt your talk so rashly, for as I receive both comfort and consolation by your good advise and counsel, so your strange news hath driven me into a quandary, whether I should take your words in earnest or jest: for I am sure my daughter Publia is as far from a husband as I am from a wife, or else I am greatly beguiled. And with that he called Publia which stood at the window talking with her cousin Mamillia, and began to sift her on this wise.  
If the news daughter be true that your uncle Gonzaga hath told me, I may justly be accused of folly, & you be condemned of disobedience: for in that I always left you the rains of liberty being young, to use your will as a law, and to lead your life after your own lust, I may be counted a fool, and in that you have abused this law of liberty, wedding yourself to your own will & despising my fatherly care & counsel as of none effect, you may be thought a disobedient child. Why? was my nature ever so strange, or your nurture so strait, was I so unwilling that you should match, or so wilful to keep you from marriage, as you should choose without my advise, yea, and that which is more, marry without my consent? Well, I know I have always had such a care to pleasure you as a father, and you such a fear to displease me as a daughter, that I both think the news untrue, and thee unworthy of such a report. But if the case be so, thou art not the first, nor shalt be the last which have slipped awry in this point: yet since thou hast here such a care of thy choice as to look before thou leap, and to love such a one as is to be liked for his living, both for his person and virtue, thou deservest the less to be blamed, and I have the less cause to be offended: to put me therefore out of doubt, and to satisfy thine uncle Gonzaga, I charge thee by the law of duty to tell me what hath passed between thee and Pharicles.  
Sir quoth she, as I have always found you to have had a fatherly care to provide for my welfare, so I have always counted it religion to requite that fatherly affection with the duty and obedience of a child, least happily I might seem to be more void of nature than the brute beasts which want nurture. The young lamb by mere instinct of Nature obeyeth the bleating of the old sheep: The sucking fawn followeth the steps of the Do: The cygnets dare not resist the call of the old Swan: the young Tiger (though never so wild) runneth at the beck of the old Tigress: and should I then, sir, be so void of grace, as to be more lewd than the young lamb, more void of Nature than the silly Fawn, more senseless than the young cygnets, and more fierce than the cruel Tigers: No no sir: But when I so far forget myself, as to pass these unreasonable creatures in careless disobedience, than the Gods requite so loathsome a fact with most hellish misery. Although the voice of the common people be a great verdict to confirm a thing in question, yet that which is spoken of many is not always true, much less the rumour which is raised by some one tattling person, doth follow by consequence as a thing necessarily to be believed. And therefore mine uncle Gonzaga did very ill in giving credit to such a flying tale, and did more overshoot himself in blowing it into your ears, until by further trial he had searched out the truth of the matter.  
In deed sir I confess, that Pharicles hath showed me some courtesy, and I have not altogether requited him with curiosity, he hath made some show of love, and I have not wholly seemed to mislike, lest in loving lightly I might seem lascivious, and in contemning churlishly I might be judged very curious: but for to contract I never meant without your consent, nor never intended to set on the seals before you had struck up the bargain. And for the confirmation of these my words, and the better satisfying of mine uncle Gonzaga, see here the letters which have passed betwixt me and Pharicles.  
Gostyno perceiving by the tenure of these letters, that this tale which was told of his daughter was wholly without troth, would very gladly have known of Gonzaga who was the author of such a report, thinking himself ill dealt withal to have so causeless a slander raised upon his daughter: but Gonzaga not willing to bring the matter any further in question, made him this answer.  
Brother Gostyno quoth he, I know it is ill putting the hand between the bark and the tree, & great folly to meddle in other men's matters, neither was it my mind when I told you this tale, to sow any dissension between your daughter Publia and you, but I came to warn her as a friend, and counsel her as a kinsman, that she might take heed of the train, lest she were taken in the trap, that she might not strike at the stolen lest she were canvased in the nets, that she might not venture no father into the ford than she might easily retire without danger, I mean that she should not lay her love no surer upon Pharicles, but that she might pluck it off at her own pleasure, for Pharicles is betrothed, and contracted long since to my daughter Mamillia, so that there remaineth nothing but that at his return home they consummate the marriage. To cause therefore your daughter to take heed of such cogging copesmates was the cause of my coming, least unadvisedly she might buy repentance too dear.  
Gostyno seeing the danger whereinto his daughter had fallen, if Gonzaga had not prevented it, gave him hearty thanks for his friendly counsel, and counted both himself and his daughter greatly bound unto him for preventing so secret a mischief, being to exclaim against the peevish perjury and trothless treachery of Pharicles, had not Gonzaga broken off the talk with taking his leave of his brother, and Mamillia giving the A dio to her cousin Publia, departed leaving Gostyno and his daughter wholly counseled, but not half comforted, because they could not so suddenly digest the great abuse of Pharacles.  
But poor Mamillia who before was drowned in dread, doth now swim in hope, before (as she thought) crossed with calamity, but now crowned with prosperity, o'late drenched in the dregs of distrust, and now safely settled in assurance, before she feared the worst, and now she hoped the best, at her coming nothing but woe woe, at her return all was joy, her woe to weal, her bale to bliss, her despite was turned to pleasure and delight. For now she hoped that although Pharicles had sown wild Oats he should reap good grain, that he had not run so far but he might easily return, that bought wit was best, and the being thoroughly beaten with his own rod, he would in time learn to be wise, and that whereas before he was trothless now he would be trusty, as he was false so he would be faithful: she thus persuading herself of the best was as merry as before she was sorry. But contrariwise Publia being before secure was now crossed with care, before in happiness now wholly in heaviness, o'late in joy, now in sorrow and annoy, so that getting herself secretly into her chamber she fell into these pitiful plaints.  
Alas quoth she, poor soul, it is too late to defend the walls when the City is overrun, to sound the retreat when the battle is fought, to apply the salve when the sore is incurable, and to seek to comfort where counsel cometh too late, and to reclaim affection fancy being already fixed. Thou speakest poor Publia by experience, for the counsel thine uncle Gonzaga, gave thee was not a confect to heal thy sorrow, but a corrosive to renew thy grief. And why? because to seek to cure an incurable disease is to double the patient's pains. Mine uncle Gonzaga did wisely warn me to beware of the train, and alas I was before taken in the trap, he wished me to beware of liking and I was long before in love, he had me take heed for wading too far, and I was before over my shoes. Why but fond fool thou hast not gone so far but thou mayst retire, thou art not so fast in the nets but thou mayst return, thy love is not so surely lodged, but thou mayst pull off thy liking, thou hast made no contract but thou mayst reclaim, nor given no consent but thou mayst recall, yea, & without clog to thy conscience or crack to thy credit. For why, he hath sworn to perform that which he could not justly promise, he hath offered thee his faith, whereas before another had his freedom, the greatest substance of his love was but a mere shadow of lust, than Publia cast him off which so did scoff thee, and detest him which so deeply dissembled: yea, for what fondness were it for thee to like him which is another woman's love, to make a choice of him whom another already hath chosen, to fix thy fancy upon Pharicles since Mamillia shall enjoy him. Alas I know all this, but what then? the person of Pharicles, his beauty, bounty, and rare qualities are so surely shrined in my breast, as they can never be razed out with oblivion: let Mamillia enjoy him as her husband (yea, and I pray the Gods send them long and happy days together) yet I will both love him and like him in a chaste mind for ever. What though he were false, shall I be faithless? though he had no troth, shall I be treacherous? shall his sleeting make me fickle, or his inconstancy make me without conscience? No, no, I have once given my heart and I mean not to pull back my hand, I have once loved him and I mean never to like any other: but here before the Gods I vow myself a vestal virgin till death shall end my sorrow.  
And indeed she promised nothing but she did perform, for not long after Gostyno died leaving her sole heir to all his possessions. And although she was daily sued unto by diverse brave and gallant gentlemen, yet she refused them all, and the better to avoid the resort of suitors which daily frequented her house, she let all her lands to lease, and entered herself into a religious Monastery where she led her life as a chaste and famous virgin, and at her death dying without issue (for all his treachery) she bequeathed her possessions to her best beloved Pharicles.  
Where gentlemen (think of me what you please) I am constrained by conscience (considering the constancy of Publia) to blame those blasphemous blabs which are never in their vain except they be breathing out some injurious speeches against the constancy of women, not yielding any reason of their verdict or reproach, but the reckless rancour of their own perverse will pricks then forward to this despiteful folly. But I hope whatsoever the envious crew shall crow against me for defending the loyalty of women, virtuous & well disposed gentlemen will neither appeach me of flattery, nor condemn me of folly: But leaving these suppositions at last to Pharicles, who after that under the profession of a Pilgrim he had cut the straights with a speedy gale, and the mariners by compass of their course were come within ken of land, and had descried the cliffs of Sicilia: seeing the place of this pretenced ixile to be so near, had his heart encountered with such a diverse combat, and was so plunged in perplexity and drenched in the dregs of doubt, as being almost frettised for fear, the mariners by his oft changing of colours thought that either the poor pilgrim was in his Orisons, or else paying his debt by death unto nature. But as their imagination proceeded but by conjecture of his feeble complexion, so their aim was quite beyond the mark, for Pharicles was wishing for rain when the shower was past, drying the malt when the kill was on fire, sounding the retreat when the battle was fought, yea buying repentance too late. Now he confessed the fault when judgement was past, and found himself guilty when there was no hope of pardon: Now he felt within his crazed conscience a cruel conflict between wit & wilfulness, love and lightness, fancy and faith: on the one side the fixed mind of Mamillia proved his fading fancy to be founded on the tottering stage of flattery: on the other the constancy of Publia so galded his guilty conscience, as he frankly accused himself to be as fickle in his faith, and as light in his love, as the leaves of the herb Baaran which continually shake without ceasing.  
But the Pirate although he knows his practice to be plain theft, yet he turneth forth a new leaf, till either he be drowned in the sea, or else tossed by some infortunate tempest, land his ship at Tyburn: The counterfeit coiner although he knows his craft to be a flat trick of treason, yet he will not take the check for his fault, until he hath the final mate for his offence. So Pharicles, although he knew himself to be a deep dissembler, and that flattery was cousin german to treachery, yet he feared not to mock so long with Mamillia, & dissemble with Publia, until he gained nothing for his reward but a ship of sorrow to digest the reckless root of repentance: for as he had received the stroke by fickleness, so he meant to salve the sore by flight: as he had bred his bane by their presence, so he would cure his disease by absence: thinking that Aristotle his sentence in Logic was also an Axiom in love, that one contrary drives out another: judging as private familiarity was the father of fancy, so discontinuance should be of sufficient force to quench out the frying flames of love. But he sat beside the saddle, for he spoke by guess and not by experience, by wit, but not by wisdom. The sting of a serpent by continuance envenometh the whole body. He which is charmed of the Torpedo by procrastination runneth mad, and the prick of love by delay is uncurable: yet Pharicles blinded with the vale of vanity, and soused in the seas of self-love, was so wrapped in the waves of wilfulness, as at the first he thought his journey into Sicilia a perfect pumicestone to race out the memory of his dainty dames in Italy. But he skipped beyond his skill, and was very grossly blinded with folly, for he was not only frustrate of his imagination, but did even fry amidst the floods, that as he sailed on the seas, the beauty of his goddesses gave his conscience such a cruel canuizado by the means of fancy, as the poor Gentleman driven almost into the dungeon of despair, burst forth into these terms.  
O infortunate Pharicles, hath the dolorous destinies decreed thy destruction, or the perverse planets in thy nativity conspired thy bitter bane? Hath froward fortune sworn to make thee a miserable mirror of her mutability? Shall thy friends sorrow at thy hap, and thy foes rejoice at thy chance? yea all the world wonder at thy stayless state of life. Shall Mamillia muse at thy madness in change, and Publia laugh at thy lightness in choice? Yea shall they count thee more curious than careful, more witty than wise, more light in thy love than lewd in thy life, and yet so lewd as sufficient to win the best game? Ah Pharicles, shall thy dainty dames in Italy try by experience, that although thy person is so bravely beautified with the dowries of nature, as she seemed to show her cunning in carving a piece of so curious perfection, yet thy mind to be so blotted with the blemish of inconstancy, and so foiled with the filthy spot of fickleness, as nature may seem to make a supply in the body, sith there was such a want in the mind? Shall (I say) they compare thee to the diamond, who for all her glistering hue distilleth deadly poison? To the Seastar, whose shell staineth the ivory and whose meat is blacker than jet? Unto the trees in the Mount Vermise, whose bark burneth like fire, and whose sap is colder than Ice? Well Pharicles, cast thy cards, make thine accounts, and thou shalt find the greatest gain to be loss, and thy profit to be such as he that maketh of a mountain of gold a miry moulhill, of an Elephant a Gnat, and cometh from a wealthy merchant to a bare bankrupt. Consider with thyself thou hast stained thy stock, and what more to be regarded? Thou hast cracked thy credit, and what of greater price? Thou hast lost thy friends, and what of more value? Thou hast purchased two most trusty lovers to be thy mortal foes, and exiled thyself as a poor pilgrim into a strange country. Why Pharicles, can these thy dolorous discourses cure thy care? or can unfolding of thy infortunate life be a means to mitigate thy misery? rub not thy galded conscience for fear of a deeper sore, but if thou hast been careless in change be now careful and constant in choice, if thou hast committed a fault seek in secret wise to make some part of amends, if thou hast offended by breaking promise make a recompense in paying performance. Yea but the salve (be it never so pure) is not worth a rush if unapt for the soar, the medicine being unfit for the patient's disease, though never so sovereign, bringeth small profit, so this thy clerkly counsel unapt for the cause will procure thee but little ease: for thou hast deceived Mamillia, and halted with Publia, thou hast made a fault to both and canst make amends but to one, thy promise is to lay thy love on two where the performance can light but upon some particular person, so that in any wise thou canst not make a full satisfaction for thy fault, unless thou take upon thee such a charge as thou shalt never be able to rule nor they suffer. O unhappy man art thou the only mark at which fortune means to unloose her infortunate quiver? And with that he cast forth such a sigh, as it was a sufficient sign to witness a ready remorse in his troubled mind, that the master of the ship taking compassion on this perplexed pilgrim, thought to comfort his care with this merry motion.  
Sir, quoth he, your bitter tears and deep sighs which you power forth so plentifully, as tokens of some inward grief, hath driven both the mariners & me into a diverse dump, as we all stand in doubt whether those pitiful plaints proceed from a careful conscience cumbered with sin, or else that you are of that order of pilgrims, whose pretenced pilgrimage is to seek S. james, but their heart & devotion is vowed to an other Saint, which with a crabbed countenance hath given them such a cutting corrosive as they seek by absence either to mitigate her mood or procure their own ease: and if you be of the same case and in the like mind, I will think you as mad as he that counteth fasting a sovereign preservative against famine.  
Pharicles hearing the Pilots parley to touch him somewhat, & perceiving his talk to send to some end, thought as closely to stand him the ward as he had clerkly given him the blow, and therefore tricked up his talk with this cunning excuse.  
Pilot quoth Pharicles, although they skill in navigation be great, yet if thou hadst no greater cunning in stirring of the stern, than in conjecturing the cause of my sorrow, I would very loathly have committed myself under thy charge to have sailed into Sicilia: for whether thou presumest upon physiognomy or folly, it is but a bare division to say that either love or sin must be the cause of grief: but put case thou hast hit the mark, and that my outward sighs be signs of inward love, will not absence thinkest thou diminish affection?  
Yes quoth the Pilot, when you find solitariness a sovereign salve against sorrow, then will the dew of discontinuance quench out the fire of fancy: but leaving these amorous questions, you are welcome to the coasts of Sicilia.  
Pharicles seeing the cockboat ready to carry him to the shore, rewarded both the master and the mariners very frankly, desiring the Pilot (sith he himself was a stranger) to guide him to some honest Inn, where he might make his abode while he stayed in the country. Who being very desirous to gratify the Gentleman, carried Pharicles to a very friends house of his, who for the pilots cause gave Pharicles such courteous entertainment, as he thought himself to have happed on a very good host.  
Where by the way Gentlemen, we see the tickle state of such young youths whose wits are wills, and their wills are laws, coveting so much sensual liberty, as they bring themselves into perpetual bondage: for the Polype hath not more colours, nor the Chameleon more sundry shapes than they have change in thoughts, now liking, now loathing: for a while professed enemies to Venus' court, & then sworn true subjects to the crown of Cupid, so variable as a man can neither judge of their nature, nor nurture, unless by nativity they be lunatics, not taking this word as the English men do, for stark mad, but as borne under the influence of Luna, and therefore as firm in their faith as the melting wax that receiveth every impression, thinking as Pharicles did, that it is a Courtier's profession to court to every dame but to be constant to none, that it is the grace to speak finely though without faith, and to be wedded in words to as many as the lusting eye can like: so that at length when their talk is found tales, their love lust, and their protested promises small performance, than their credit being cracked, they must be travelers to seek that in a strange country which they could never find in their own: they must into Sicilia for shifts, into Italy for pride, to France for fraud, and to England for fashions and folly, so that they return home laden, not with learning, but with lewdness, not with virtue but with vice, yea, their whole fraught is a mass of mischiefs. I speak not of all travelers Gentlemen, but of such as Pharicles, which take their journey, either that their credit at home is crazy, or else being wedded to vanity seek to augment their folly.  
But again to Pharicles, who now safely settled in Saragossa the chief city in Sicilia, a place of no less suspicion than resort (and yet the most famous mart in all the country) dealt so clerkly in his calling, and behaved himself so demurely, as his pretenced kind of life gave occasion to no man to suspect his feigned profession: for his Palmer's weed was worn with such a gravity in his countenance, and such a modesty in his manners, as all men thought the man to be half mortified. For Pharicles knew very well that he could not live in Saragossa under the state of a gentleman, but either he must spend with the best or sit with the worst: yea, beside that without companions he could not be: and he thought it very hard to choose a dram of gold among a pound of dross, to find one Gem amidst a whole heap of flint, one Eel among many Scorpions, and one friend among a thousand flatterers: it might assoon be his hap to chance on a dissembling Davus as on a trusty Damon, to commit his counsel to a subtle Sinon as to a faithful Pylades, to take him for a professed friend which might be a protested foe, in the fairest grass to find the foulest Snake, in Oryllus box a deadly poison, in Carolus scarph a withered root, in the shape of a friend the substance of a foe. He thought likewise that such a City as Saragossa was often times as well stored with Parasites as guarded with soldiers, and as full of counterfeits as counsellors, and that he might find many cousins claiming more acquaintance to his purse than kindred to his person, more allied to his living than to his lineage: to conclude, more to feed his fancy for gain than either good will or friendship.  
Pharicles partly feared and partly persuaded with the consideration of the former premises, was fully resolved in his mind to abandon all company, & to give a final farewell to his forepast folly, to make a change of his chaffer with better ware, of his dross with gold, and of his fléeting will with stayed wisdom. Having thus determined to lead a Pilgrim's life to punish his body with this Palmer's penance, in satisfaction of his disloyal dealings with his trusty lovers, he had not lived in this Hermit's state by the space of a month, but he proved the Pilots talk to be no tales, nor his words to be wind, but a settled sentence: for want of company so increased his care, and brought such melancholic motions to his musing mind, as now he perceived solitariness to be the nurse of sorrow, and discontinuance the father of fancy. The modesty of Mamillia, the constancy of Publia, his credit cracked in Italy, his youth spent in vanity, his great promises and small performance, his feigned faith & forged flattery, so battered the bulwark of his breast, & gave such fierce assaults to his careful conscience, as he thought himself to be in a second Hell, until he might find a means to mitigate his misery: and therefore as solitariness was the sore, so he meant society should be the salve, determining to drive away those dumps by frequenting of company, which otherwise would have bred his utter bane: respecting neither cost, expenses, nor hazarding of himself, so his mind might remain in quiet.  
Pharicles having thus cast off his Pilgrims weed and Pilgrim's profession, gave the citizens of Saragossa in short time to understand that he was as well a Gentleman by nature as by nurture, and as worthily brought up as worshipfully borne. For first he made a restraint of his will by wit, than used his wit so warily and wisely, showing such a courteous countenance and frank liberality to all estates, as he drove them into a doubt, whether the comeliness of his person, or the worthiness of his mind deserved greater commendation: In so much as those young Gentlemen thought themselves happy which might be counted companions to this new guest, & above all the rest of this courtly true which kept him company, a young gentleman named Ferragus, only son to the governor of Saragossa, was joined with him in most private familiarity, thinking that day evil spent, wherein he had not visited his new friend Pharicles, and the more to do him honour being a stranger, he oftentimes carried him to his father's house, where in short time Pharicles won such credit by his courtesy, that Signior Farnese (for so was the old gentleman called) thought his house the more lucky he had such a guest, & his son the more happy he had chosen such a companion: but for all this Pharicles fearing to find a pad in the straw, and a burning spark amongst cold ashes, was a foe to none, nor a friend to any, neither durst trust Ferragus without sufficient trial, but bore himself so indifferent to all, yet showing himself so fit for all companies, as well in ripeness of wit as revenues of wealth, that there was no talk for a time but of the perfection of Pharicles.  
While thus flattering fame had spread abroad his famous qualities, there was a young gentlewoman in Saragossa called Clarynda, of more wealth than beauty, and yet so sufficiently furnished with the perfections & dowries of nature, that if she could have been continent and not common in her love, she might have been for her person a fit mate for the most famous Prince in the world. But she being both young, rich, and beautiful, having neither father nor mother which might make a restraint of her nature by due nurture, and enjoying a liberty without controlment which be the greatest bawds in the world to make a Gentlewoman slide in such slippery paths, having neither care of her person nor regard of her parentage, but setting both honour and honesty to sale became a professed Courtesan.  
In which stayless state of life she waded so far, that her chiefest care was to be careless in that which above all things she ought most to have regarded, for whereas both her birth and beauty had been of sufficient force to persuade her to beautify the goods of fortune and gifts of nature with a maidenly modesty and silent chastity, she contrariwise linking herself to sensual liberty, and wedding her mind to vanity, sought to reap renown & purchase fame by the which she tried in time to breed her greatest infamy: for why, she found both such pleasure and profit by setting her honesty to sale in the shameless shop of voluptuous desires, that neither the shame of her life, nor the fear of her death, the state of her birth, or the stain of her beauty, might in any wise move her from her loathed kind of living: no her heart was so hardened, and her ears so enchanted with the alluring charm of Venus' sophistry, that neither the persuasions of her friends lamenting her case, nor the rejoicing of her foes laughing at her lewdness, could drive her to desist from her detestable kind of dealing. Nay the more she was counseled, the less she was conformable; the more she was entreated, the less she was tractable: yea, she settled herself so surely, as she thought in the seat of self-will and security, that she employed all her time and study to entertain her licentious lovers, showing herself such a subtle Circe's and crafty Calypso, in giving them pestiferous potions, and drowning them in the dregs of devilish delights, that unless it were some wary Ulysses that had provided a preservative against her poison, they returned transformed into apes or asses, or into worse if worse may be. And yet for all this feigned affection, her fléeting fancy was never fixed upon any, but laying the net, was free herself, casting the bait, avoided the hook, seeking to entrap others, she herself was never entangled: and as the most infectious serpent hath always the sweetest breath, so for all her vicious mind she had such a virtuous tongue, and tricked up her talk with such painted colours, as they of Saragossa did marvel how she could so clerkly cover the substance of vice under the shape of virtue: yea they learned by her lewdness to warn their children from such state of life, they did see very well how that which was bred by the bone would not out of the flesh, that the young Adder would prove an old Serpent, that the cragged twig would prove a crooked tree, that she which spent her youth without restraint, would lead her age without controlment, that the maid which was vowed to vanity would wed herself in time to folly. But again to Clarynda, who wallowing in the waves of wantonness, and offering her incense at the altar of Venus, heard as well as others the rare report of Pharicles perfections, which tickling somewhat her toyish mind, made her desirous to try what was in the gentleman by experience, and to reap both pleasure by his person, and profit by his purse, which was the chiefest mark whereat she always aimed: Covering therefore the heart of a Tiger with the fleece of a Lamb, the claws of a Gripe with the pens of a Dove, the vanity of Lais with the vale of Lucretia, the miserable conditions of a Courtesan with the modest countenance of a matron, decking herself with inns & jewels of infinite valour, set herself in her window as an adamant object to draw the wavering eyes of Pharicles, thinking that as none could hear the Sirens sing, but they should be charmed with their melody, so it were as impossible to see her and not be alured with her beauty. But as the Lion seeking to entrap the heart as a pray, is himself unwares taken in the toils: so Clarinda making the snare fell in the pit, holding the view was taken at the gaze, seeking to catch an other captive, was brought herself into perpetual bondage: for indeed (according to her desire and imagination) Pharicles constrained by certain his necessary affairs came by her house, yet armed with such a privy coat as he warily withstood the greatest danger of her envenomed shot: giving her to understand that he could fly about the candle and not be singed, see the Scorpion and not be stricken, that he could laugh and look without liking: yea warm himself very nigh the fire and not be burned, that he could accedere ad hunc ignem, and yet not calescere plusquam satis: For why, passing by her window and seeing this gorgeous Gorgon so shrined in the shape of a goddess, did not only repu●e at Nature for placing so hellish a mind in so heavenly a creature, but also smiled to see such bravery linked with so little honesty, and such perfect beauty blemished with the want of chastity. Yet willing to show himself a friend to all, he gave her the Salve with a cringing courtesy, and went to his lodging without any more loss than in lending his look to such alluring vanities. But she contrariwise being at discovert, noting the comeliness of Pharicles countenance, & imprinting in her heart the perfection of his person, had her fancy so fettered aswell with the report of others as with her own judgement, that she marveled to find such a strange Metamorphosis in her immodest mind: for thinking to shake off the shackles with a bare farewell as she had done before, she felt herself so fast tied to the stake, that it craved her greatest cunning to unloose the knot. Now she felt the poison to work on herself that she had provided for others, and perceived that intending to lay the snare, she herself was wholly entrapped: yea the force of fancy gave such fierce alarms to her new besieged mind, as no rampire that she could make might withstand the battery. The more she strove against the stream the less it did prevail, the closer she covered the spark, the more it kindled: yea, in seeking to unlose the Lunes, the more she was entangled: In fine after she had passed two or three days in kicking against the prick, she felt such a hapless horror in her troubled mind, that she was forced to enter into consideration with herself what conditions she should offer to her new professed enemy, and therefore entering into her closet uttered these speeches.  
O unjust Gods quoth she, which have endued brute beasts with greater perfection in their kind than reasonable creatures: The Garlic killeth the Serpent, & she by instinct of nature escheweth the same. The juice of hemlock poisoneth the bear and what more abhorred? the grease of the snail infecteth the ape, and what more loathed? yea every creature shuneth the occasion of danger, man only excepted, which seeketh with pursuit to obtain that which breedeth his confusion: what bruiseth the brain? what mazeth the mind? what weakeneth the wit? what breedeth fear? what bringeth frenzy? what soweth sorrow? what reapeth care more than love? and yet the only thing wherein man delighteth. The bird loving the woods loatheth the nets, the heart liking the lawns hateth the snares: But man placing his felicity in freedom, taketh greatest care to cast himself into perpetual bondage.  
O Clarinda, would to God thou mightest accuse others and be free thyself from this folly: but alas thou dost condemn others of that crime wherein thou thyself deservest greatest blame: Wilt thou now fond fool become a professed friend to affection, which hast always been a protested foe to fancy? wilt thou now suffer thy mind to be nuzzled up in captivity, which hath always been nursed up in liberty? Thou hast counseled others to beware of the train, and wilt thou now thyself be taken in the trap? thou hast boasted that thou couldst both like and loath at thine own pleasure, and shall thy brags now be daunted with disgrace? wilt thou now prove such a coward to yield to the file, to stoop at the stamp, to give over the field before there be a stroke strooken, yea and to such a cruel tyrant as love is? It is a saying not so common as true, that she which soweth all her love in an hour, shall not reap all her care in a year, that she which liketh without remembrance shall not live without repentance. So then Clarynda be wise, since thou art warned, look before thou leapest: there is no better defence against danger than to consider the end of thine enterprise. Thou art entangled with the love of a stranger, who perhaps hath his heart fixed on some other place, thou hast fond set thine affection upon one whose wealth, wit, and conditions, thou only knowest by the flattering report of fame, he is in outward show a Saint, and perhaps in inward mind a serpent, for his person a paragon of beauty, for his conditions since he sojourned in Saragossa most highly to be commended: yea so perfect in substance and quality as he may in no respect be appeached of want: why? but Clarynda fame is not always true, and the bravest bloom hath not always the best fruit: those birds which sing sweetest, have oftentimes the sourest flesh, the river Silia is most pleasant to the eye and yet most hurtful to the stomach, the stone Nememphis is not so delicate without, as deadly within, all that glisters is not gold. Pharicles (Clarynda) for all his pompous fame of perfect conditions may be a parasitical flatterer of most imperfect conversation. Who was more courteous than Conon the Athenian? and yet a very counterfeit; who more gentle than Galba in show? yet none more treacherous in proof; Ulysses had a fair tongue but a false heart, Metellus was modest but yet mutable: the cloth is not known till it come to the wéeting, nor a lovers qualities perceived till he come to the wearing. Well Clarinda although it is good to doubt the worst, yet suppose the best, he is constant, trusty, not vainglorious nor wedded unto vanity, but a protested foe to vice and a professed friend to virtue: Alas fond fool? if thou weigh thy case in the equal balance the greater is thy care & the more is thy misery, for by how much the more he himself is virtuous, so much less he will esteem thee which art vicious: dost thou think he which is trusty will regard thee which art trothless? that his faithful courtesy will brook thy feigned inconstancy? is thy senses so besotted with self-love to suppose that a Gentleman of great wealth and no less wit, famous both for his person and parentage, will be so witless in change or careless in choice, so light in his love or lewd in his life, as to fix his affection upon a professed Courtesan, whose honesty and credit is so wracked in the waves of wantonness, and so weatherbeaten with the billows of immodesty, that it is set to sale in the shameless shop of Venus as a thing of no value to be cheapt of every straggling chapman. No no Clarinda, there is such a great difference between thy hapless chance and his happy choice, between thy careless living and his careful life, as there remains to thee not so much as one dram of hope to cure thy intolerable malady. And why fond fool? Was not Lamia in profession a Courtesan, in life a lascivious vassal to Venus' vanity, yea to figure her forth in plain terms a sta●esse strumpet racking her honesty to the uttermost, thereby to raise revenues to maintain her immodest life, and yet for all the blemish of immoderate lust wherein she was lulled a sleep by security, she so charmed and enchanted with her Siren subtleties the senses of king Demetrius, that he was so blinded with the beams of her beauty, and dimmed with the wanton vale of her alluring vanities, forgetting that she was by calling a courtesan & by custom common to all that could wage her honesty with the appointed price, he so entirely loved this graceless dame, that neither the remembrance of her forepast folly, nor the suspicion of her present immodesty could drive that worthy king to mislike her, until the extreme date of death parted their inseparable amity? Were not many noble Princes alured to the love of Lais? Was not that worthy Roman Cassius so fettered with the form of Flora the renowned courtesan of Rome, that he offered the prime of his years at the shrine of that gorgeous Goddess, and yet the worst of these two worthy wights far surpassing Pharicles as well in ripeness of wit as revenues of wealth. Yea but Clarynda infer no comparison, for these two stately dames were so decked and adorned with the gifts of nature, and so polished with princely perfection, that they were the most rare gems and peerless paragons of beauty that ever were shrouded under the shape of mortality, so that if jupiter had but once frequented their company, no doubt juno would have been infected with jealousy, whereas thy comeliness deserveth no such surpassing commendation, but that thou mayst yield the palm of a victory to a thousand whose beauty is such as their greatest imperfection may daunt thee with disgrace. Why but Clarynda, art thou so mad to lay a cutting corrosive to a green wound, to procure heat with cold, to repress hunger with famine, to salve sorrow with solitariness, and to mitigate thy misery with extreme despair? No no, since thou art once lodged up in the loathsome labyrinth of love, thou must like Theseus be haled out with the thread of hope: for better hadst thou met with Minotaurus in plain combat, than be but once arrested with the miserable maze of distrust. And therefore Clarynda cast away care, retire not before thou hast the repulse, but keep the course by thy compass: and since thou hast the sore seek the salve, apply thy wit & will, thy hand and heart to achieve that thing, in attaining whereof consists either thy continual calamity or perpetual joy, and with that she stepped to her standish which stood in the window, and wrote a letter to Pharicles in this effect.  
Signora Clarynda of Saragossa, to Don Pharicles prosperity.  
ALthough thou hast both cause to muse and marvel (O noble Pharicles and unacquainted gentleman) in that thou receivest a letter from her whom neither familiarity nor friendship can give just occasion so much as once to salute thee with a Salve, much less to trouble thy patience with such stuff as may breed thy misliking & my misery, if the gods be not aiding to my enterprise, yet if thou shalt vouchsafe to construe my meaning to the best, or at the least take the pains to turn over these imperfect lines proceeding from a perplexed person, which I hope thy noble mind and courtesy will command thee, thou shalt find it no smaller cause than the fatal fear of death that forced me to yield to this extremity, nor the occasion less than the dread of pinching despair which drove me to pass the golden measure of surpassing modesty. In deed the noble and virtuous dames (Pharicles) of famous memory, whose happy life hath canonised them in Chronicles for perfect paragons both of virtue and beauty, have with general consent averred, that shamefast modesty and silence be the two rarest gems & most precious jewels wherewith a Gentlewoman may be adorned. Notwithstanding they have all been of this mind, that where either love or necessity extend their extreme rigour to the uttermost, there both human & divine laws surcease, as not of sufficient force to abide the brunt of two such terrible & untamed tyrants. For there is no silence such but the file of love will fret in sunder: nor no modesty so shamefast but the sting of necessity will force to pass both shame and measure. Sapph (Pharicles) was both learned, wise, and virtuous, and yet the fire of fancy so scorched and scalded her modest mind, as she was forced to let slip the reins of silence to crave a salve of Phaon to cure her intolerable malady. If Phedra (Pharicles) had not both surpassed in beauty and modesty, poor Theseus would never have forsaken his Ariadne in the deserts, to have linked himself with her in the inviolable league of matrimony, yet her beauty and modesty were brought to such a low ebb by the battery of love, that she was feign to sue for help to her unhappy son Hippolytus. I dare not (o Pharicles) of these exemplified premises infer either comparison or conclusion, for because to compare myself to them were a point of arrogancy, and to derogate so much from their degree, as to match them with my rudeness were a trick of extreme folly. Yet this I am forced to confess, that the self-same fire hath so inflamed my fancy, & the like battery hath so beaten my breast, as silence and modesty set aside, I am forced by love to plead for pardon at the bar of thy bounty, whose captive I remain, till either the sentence of life or death be pronounced upon me poor careful caitiff. Love, yea, love it is, (o Pharicles) and more if more may be that hath so fettered my freedom and tied my liberty with so short a tedder, as either thou must be the man which must unlose me from the lunes, or else I shall remain in a loathsome Labyrinth till the extreme date of death deliver me. The Dear Pharicles, is more impatient at the first stroke, than the Hind which before hath been galded and yet escaped, the soldier grieveth more at the first cut, than he which hath been acquainted with many wounds: so I alas having never felt before the fire of fancy, nor tried the terrible torment of love, think the burden more great, & the yoke more heavy, by how much the less I have been acquainted with such insupportable burdens. Well Pharicles, I know thou wilt conclude of these my premises, that since I have been an inhabior so long Nell' lafoy strada cortizana, & professed myself a friend to Caesar, that either I have been a deep dissembler in feeding many fools fat with flattery, or else that I never loved any but thee, is a trothless tale, & a flat trick of treachery. Confess I must of force (O worthy gentleman) that I have flattered many, but never fancied any, that I have alured some, but loved none, that I have taken diverse in the trap, and yet always escaped the snare, until too long flying about the candle, I am so scorched in the flame, & so surely fastened with the fetters of fancy by the only sight of thy surpassing beauty, as of force I must remain thy careful captive till either thy courtesy or cruelty cut asunder the thread of hope, which makes me pine in misery. It is not (o Pharicles) thy purse but thy person which hath pierced my heart, not thy coin but thy comeliness which hath made the conquest, not the help of gain, but the hope of thy good will that hath entangled my freedom, not the glitring shape of vanity but the golden substance of virtue, not thy living, lands or parentage, but thy rare qualities and exquisite perfections are the champions which have chained me in the baleful bands of lasting bondage. Lasting I may well term them, sith there is such a difference between thy state and my stay, as there remains to me no hope of liberty. For perhaps Pharicles thou wilt say, that the crooked twig will prove a crabbed tree, that the sour bud will never be sweet blossom, how that which is bred by the bone will not easily out of the flesh, that she which is common in her youth will be more inconstant in her age: To conclude, that the woman which in prime of years is lascivious, will in ripe age be most lecherous. Yet Pharicles I answer, that the blossoms of the Mirabolanes in Spain is most infectious, and yet the fruit very precious: that the wine may be sour in the press, & yet by time most sweet in the Cask: that oftimes where vice reigneth in youth, there virtue remaineth in age. Who more perverse being young than Paulyna, & who more perfect being old? Losyna the Queen of the Vendales at the first a vicious maiden, but at the last a most virtuous matron. But to aim more near the mark, was not Rhodope in the prime of her youth counted the most famous or rather the most infamous strumpet of all Egypt? so common a courtesan, as she was a second Messalyna for her immoderate lust, yet in the flower of her age being married to Psammeticus the king of Memphis, she proved so honest a wife and so chaste a Princes, as she was not before so reproached for the small regard of her honesty, as after she was renowned for her inviolable chastity. Phryne that graceless Gorgon of Athens, whose monstrous life was so immodest that her careless chastity was a prey to every straggling stranger, after she was married to Siconius, she became such a foe to vice, and such a friend to virtue, yea, she trod her steps so steadily in the trade of honesty, as the Metamorphosis of her life to her perpetual fame was engraven in the brazen gates of Athens. So (Pharicles) if the Gods shall give me such prosperous fortune as to receive some favour of thee in lieu of my most loyal love, and I shall reap some reward for my deserts and have my fired fancy requited with fervent affection, assure thyself I will so make a change of my chaffer for better ware, of my fléeting will with stayed wisdom, of my inconstancy with continency, from a most vicious liking to such a virtuous living, from a lascivious Lamia, to a most loyal Lucretia, as both thou and all the world shall have as great cause to marvel at my modesty, as they had cause to murmur at my former dishonesty: & thus languishing in hope I wish thee as good hap as thou canst desire or imagine.  
Thine though the Gods say no, Clarynda.  
CLarynda having thus finished her Letter, called one of her maids which she thought most meet for such a purpose, and willed her to carry it with as much speed as might be to Pharicles, who having taken the charge in hand, dealt so clerkly in the cause as she sought such fit opportunity for the performance of her message, that she found Pharicles sitting solitary in his chamber, to whom she offered the letter in her mistress behalf on this wise.  
Sir quoth she, if my bold attempt to trouble your study may import small manners or little modesty, the urgent cause being once known, I hope both I shallbe excused and you pacified. For so it is, that my mistress Clarynda by the space of two or three days hath been pinched with such unacquainted pains, and gripped with such unspeakable griefs, as the extremity of her sickness is such, as we look only when the stroke of death shall free her from this incredible calamity. Yet amidst the sorest pangs of her pinching distress, she commanded me to present this letter to your worship's hands, wherein both the cause and the sickness itself is deciphered. For she hath heard by report that you have such perfect skill in curing that kind of malady which by fortune is inflicted upon her, that either of her death or the restoring of her health consisteth in your cunning, which if it be such, as no doubt it is, if either you have the nature of a Gentleman, or your courtesy be such as all Saragossa speaketh of, I hope her disease being once known, you will send such a sovereign salve for her sickness, as we her poor handmaids shall have cause to give you thanks for our mistress health, and she herself be bound to remain a dutiful debtor of yours for ever.  
Pharicles hearing the subtle song of this enchanting Siren, doubted to touch the scrap for fear of the snare, and was loath to taste of any dainty delicates, lest he might unhappily be crossed with some empoisoned dish of charming Circe's, for Pharicles knew himself an unfit Physician for such a paltering patiented, neither could he on the sudden divine of her dangerous disease, nor conjecture the cause of her insupportable sorrow, unless she were fallen in love with his friend Ferragus, and thought to make him a means to persuade his friend to the like affection. But to avoid the trap whatsoever the train were, he though best to look before he did leap, and to cast the water before he gave counsel, least in kneeling to Saint Francis shrine, he should be thought a Friar of the same fraternity: to avoid therefore such inconvenience as might happen by replying too rashly, he gave her this uncertain answer.  
Maid quoth he, as you have for your part sufficiently satisfied me with this excuse, not to think evil of your boldness, so you have driven me into a doubt what I should conjecture of the strangeness of the message, sith that since I sojourned in Saragossa, I have neither openly professed myself a Physician, nor secretly ministered to any of my friends whereby any such supposition might be gathered, but perhaps it pleaseth your Mistress to descant thus merrily with me for my pilgrim's apparel which at my first coming to Saragossa I did use to wear, which if it be so, tell her I travailed not as a Pilgrim that had cunning to cure the disease of a Courtesan, because I would not buy repentance too dear, but that my pilgrim's weed did warn me to beware for cheaping such chaffer, as was set to sale in the shameless shop of Venus: Marry if your mistress be in earnest, & that her disease be so dangerous that all the learned Physicians in Saragossa dare not deal withal, and yet my small skill may cure it, I mean first to seek out the nature of the sickness, and then the virtue of the simples to make the receipt, which being done, my Page shall bring her an answer of her letter speedily. The maid hearing this doubtful answer departed, but Pharicles desirous to see what clerkly conclusions he should find in the Courtesans scroll, could scarcely stay while the maid had turned her back from unripping the Seals, wherein he found Clarinda cumbered with such a perilous sickness, as must of necessity breed her death if she were not cured, or his extreme misery if she were amended, seeing himself therefore chosen a Physician for such a passionate patient as would reward him with large revenues & rich possessions for his pains (yea and that which was more, yielded her person into his power in part of payment, whose comely proportion surpassed the bravest dames in Europe, if the stain of her honesty had not been a blemish to her incomparable beauty) he was with these large offers driven into a doubtful dilemma what he should reply to Clarindas' demand, his dissembling with Mamillia, his treachery to Publia, his credit cracked in Italy, the loss of his friends, the hate of his foes, and now again the riches of Clarinda, her surpassing beauty, and her promise to take a new course of life so assaulted the fort of this perplexed Pharicles, as he had almost yielded a listening ear to the melody of this immodest mermaid. But as there is no herb so perilous which hath not some one virtue which is precious, nor no Serpent so infectious which is not endued with some one quality which is commodious: So Pharicles although he was wholly wedded unto vanity, and had professed himself a mortal foe to virtue, being in the state of his life such a mutable machavilian, as he neither regarded friend nor faith, oath nor promise, if his wavering wit persuaded him to the contrary: yet he entered into such deep considerations of the courtesans conditions and of the care of his own credit, yea the fear of God and dread of man so daunted his conscience, that now he so loathed this lascivious Lamia, as full of chollar he fell into these melancholic passions.  
Is it not sufficient (O fickle and unsteadfast fortune) that thou hast drenched me in the waves of distress, and tossed me with the tempest of adversity, in losing two such true and trusty lovers as by thy frowning frowardness I have lost, but now to aggravate my grief and to repay my care with greater calamity, thou seekest in a strange country to trap me in the snares of captivity, where I have neither kinsmen to comfort me, nor friends to give me good advise to redress my misery: yea and that which is most despite, to entangle me with such trash, the burden whereof is the greatest plague that any mortal man can sustain? O hapless man, and unhappy fortune! Why but Pharicles, why dost thou so fondly accuse fortune of injustice? Whereas if thou weyest all things in the equal balance, she seeketh more thy preferment than thou thyself canst desire. Consider but thine own case: Mamillia hath rejected thee for a flatterer, and Publia accounts thee for a Parasite, Gonzaga is thy foe, Gostyno thine enemy, yea thy very friends are become thine adversaries, and all Padua despiseth thee as a pattern of lewdness: what hope canst thou have then Pharicles to recover thy credit where every man of reputation will refuse thy company? Dost thou hope to win fame where thou art infamous, or to be counted virtuous where thou art tried to be most lascivious? No, no, and therefore count fortune thy friend, who in a strange country hath offered thee such a match, as for her parentage & patrimony, lands and living, birth and beauty, may deserve to be a mate for the most famous Prince in the world. Yea but Pharicles, she is a Courtesan, common and inconstant. What then? Hath she not promised to change her vicious liking into a most virtuous living, the state of a Courtesan into the stay a of matron, & to make a Metamorphosis of her forepast dishonesty into most perfect modesty? The palm that is most crooked being a twig is most strait being a tree. What more hurtful to the heart than the buds of a date, & yet no greater cordial than the fruit: nothing savoureth worse than a Panther being a whelp, yet no beast hath so sweet a smell being old: that which oft times in prime of years is most perilous, in ripe age proveth most precious. So Pharicles although Clarinda hath been a most graceless monster in her youth, yet she may prove a most gracious matron in her age: yea and by how much the more she hath known the filthiness of vice being a maid, by so much the more she will embrace virtue being a wife. O Pharicles are thy senses o'late so besotted, and thy wit so inveigled, art thou so blinded with the vale of vice & dimmed with the mask of vanity, that thou art become more sottish than the senseless stones, or more bruit than unreasonable creatures. The Crysolite being worn on the finger of an adulteress, so detesteth the crime as it cracketh in pieces by mere instinct of nature. The Unicorn is such a foe to adultery, and such a friend to chastity, as he always preserveth the one and killeth the other. The juice of the Basco leaf so abhorreth unlawful lust, as it will not by any means be digested in the stomach of a strumpet. Wilt thou then Pharicles love her whom the senseless stones do loath, or deal with that person whom very bruit beasts do detest? No, no, Mamillia will rather both forgive and forget thy flattery, & Publia pardon thy perjury, than they would but once have thee consent to company with such a graceless Courtesan. And with that such a sorrowful sadness oppressed his melancholic mind, as he had fallen into forepast passions had not his friend Ferragus driven him out of that dump, who coming into the chamber & finding him as one having his heart on his halfpenny, wakened him out of his dream with this pleasant salutation.  
I am sorry friend Pharicles to find you in this dump, so I am the more grieved because I cannot conjecture the cause: and although it be the duty of a friend to be copartner of his friends sorrow, yet I dare not wish myself a partaker of your sadness, because I suppose you are offering incense at the altar of such a Saint, at whose shrine you will not so much as once vouchsafe that I should but sing placebo. If this be the care that cumbereth your mind, good Pharicles find some other time for your amorous passions: But if it be any sinister mishap which hath driven you into this dump, either want of wealth, loss of friends or other frown of Fortune, only reveal Pharicles wherein I may pleasure thee, and I will supply thy want with my weal, & cure thy care with such comfortable counsel as my simple wit can afford. The fairest sands Pharicles are oftimes most fickle. When the leaf of the seahulver looketh most green, then is the root most withered, where the Sea breaketh with greatest billows, there is the water shallowest: so oftimes in the fairest speech lies hid the falsest heart, in flourishing words dissembling deeds, and in the greatest show of good will the smallest effect of friendship. I can not Pharicles paint out my affection towards thee with coloured speeches, nor decipher my amity with the pencil of flattery, but if thou wilt account me for thy friend, & so use me when thou hast occasion, thou shalt (to be short) find me far more prodigal in performance than prattling in promises, and so I end.  
Pharicles for all these painted speeches of his friend Ferragus, durst not wade us far where the ford was unknown, nor reveal the cause of his care to his companion, lest happily he might find a Pad in the straw, and try that oftimes of the smoothest talk ensueth the smallest truth: to satisfy therefore his friend and to cloak the cause of his care, he coined this pretty excuse.  
O Ferragus quoth he, it is not as you imagine the pangs of love which have driven me into these passions, neither the want of wealth which have thus wrapped me in woe? for to be entangled with love I have always thought it a madness, and to wail for wealth a point of mere folly, but it is Ferragus such a misery, as the sturdy stoics themselves, which were never moved with adversity, did only dread to be strooken with this despiteful dart of calamity. Yet amidst this my greatest misfortune thy friendly affection is such a comfortable collife to my crazed mind, & I find such comfort in thy friendship, as I think my lands life nor liberty half sufficient to requite thy courtesy, but promising unto thee the like unfeigned affection, & reposing the stay of my life in thy trustiness, I will unfold unto thee the cause of my distress. The smoke Ferragus of Padua is more dear unto me than the fire of Saragossa, and the waters of Italy do far more delight my taste than the most delicate wines in Sicilia, and rather had I live in a poor cottage in my native soil, than be pampered up in princely palaces in a strange country: Yea, it is Ferragus naturally given to all to choose rather to live in adversity amongst their friends at home, than in prosperity among strangers abroad: in so much that no greater misery can be inflicted upon any man, than to lead an exiled life in a foreign nation. This this Ferragus is the cross wherewith I am afflicted. For I must confess unto thee by the law of friendship, that through the displeasure of the Emperor I am condemned to lead my life in perpetual exile, so that neither I cannot nor may not so much as once approach the confines of Italy, which restraint from my native country is such a hell to my mind, and such a horror to my conscience, as death should be thrice welcome to release me from banishment. It is not the loss of my lands or living Ferragus which so molests my mind, but the want of my faithful and familiar friends: for wealth may be gotten by wisdom, but a trusty friend is hardly recovered, so that Zeno himself was of this opinion, that the loss of friends is only to be lamented. Solon the Athenian being demanded why he made no law for adulterers, answered, because there were none in his common wealth. Why quoth the other, but how if there happen to be any, shall he die? No quoth Solon, he shall be banished, meaning that no torture, torment nor calamity is to be compared to the misery of exile. Woe is me then most miserable creature.  
Why Pharicles quoth Ferragus, wilt thou salve sadness with sorrow, or cure care with calamity? Wilt thou wipe away woe with wailing? or drive away these dumps with dith despair? No no Pharicles, but to add a salve to this sore, thus I reply to thy complaint.  
The most wise & ancient Philosophers Pharicles have been of this opinion, that the world generally is but as one City: so that wheresoever a wise man remaineth, he dwelleth in his own home, for nature hath appointed the self-same laws to every place, neither is she contrary to herself in the furthest parts of the world. There is no place where the fire is cold, and the water hot, the air heavy, and the earth light: neither hath wit or learning less force in India than in Italy, and virtue is had in reputation as well in the North as in the South: so that Anacharsis was wont to say, unaquaeque patria Sapienti patria. But perhaps Pharicles thou wilt object thy great possessions which thou hast lost, and how thou wert of more account for thy birth and parentage among thine own, than ever thou shalt be among strangers. But I say Pharicles, that Coriolanus was more beloved of the Volscians, among whom he lived in exile, than of the Romans with whom he was a citizen. Alcibiades being banished by the Athenians, became chief Captain of the army of the Lacedæmonians. And Hannibal was better entertained by king Antiochus, than with his own subjects in Carthage. And I dare say Pharicles, thou wert never more famous in Padua than thou art here in Saragossa: Yea, and the more to mitigate thy misery, consider with thyself that there is no greater comfort than to have companions in sorrow: thou art not the first, nor shalt not be the last which have been exiled into foreign countries, yea, and such to whom thou art far inferior both in calling and countenance. Cadmus' the king of Thebes was driven out of the self same city which he had builded, and died old in exile among the Illyrians. Sarcas' the king of the Molossians vanquished by Philip king of Macedonia, ended his miserable days in exile. Dionysius the Syracusan driven out of his country was constrained to teach a School at Corinth. Syphax the great king of Numidia seeing his city taken and his wife Sophonisba in the arms of his mortal foe Masynissa, and that his misery should be a trumpet to sound out Scipio's triumph, ended his life both exiled and imprisoned. Perseus' the king of Macedonia, first discomfited and then deprived of his kingdom, and lastly yielded into the hands of Paulus Aemilius, remained long time a poore-banished prisoner. These Pharicles without reciting any more, are sufficient, considering their crowns, kingdoms and Majesties, to prove that Fortune hath not only offered the like mishap to others, but also hath not done so great despite unto thee as was in her power to have done. But perhaps Pharicles thou wilt reply that these mighty Monarches are not in the same predicament, for they were banished their kingdoms by open enemies, and thou thy country by supposed friends: they were exiled by sinister enmity of foreign foes, and thou by the secret envy of flattering companions: so that the self same citizens who were bound unto thy father for his prudent government being their magistrate, and to thee for thy liberality maintaining their liberties, have repaid thy courtesy with most ingrateful cruelty. To which I answer, that Theseus whose famous acts are so blazed abroad through all the world, was driven out of Athens by the self same citizens which he himself had placed, and died an old banished man in Tyrus. Solon who governed his citizens with most golden laws, was notwithstanding exiled by them into Cyprus. The Lacedæmonians being bound nor beholding to no man so much as unto Lycurgus, for all his prudent policy in governing the city constrained him to lead his life in exile. The Romans suffered Scipio Africanus the first which defended them from so many perils, most miserably to die in Lyntermum. And the second Scipio for all that he subdued Carthage and Numantia which refused to become tributaries to the Romans, found in Rome a murderer but not a revenger. Ingratitude Pharicles, is the most ancient mischief which reigneth among the people, being so deeply rooted that it doth not as all other things wax old, but waxeth daily more fresh, so that the flower falling there followeth great store of fruit. And further Pharicles, for the loss of thy friends I confess it is the greatest cause of care, and yet oftimes the fairest face hath the foulest heart, and the sweetest words the sourest deeds, thou hast therefore the means by this mishap to judge between the faithful and feigned friend: for as the touchstone trieth the gold, so adversity proveth friends. Had not Orestes fallen into his extreme frenzy, he had never tried the sacred faith of Pylades: and if the wars of the Lapythans had not lighted upon Pirithous, he might have thought himself to have had many friends, whereas he found none but one, the famous Theseus. Euryalus had never proved the constancy of Nysus, had he not fallen into the hands of the soldiers of Turnus. Sith then (Pharicles) fortune hath but given thee occasion to try thy friends, count it not for such a misery. For if all thy companions and kinsmen in Padua prove but clawbacks, assure thyself thou hast such a faithful friend here in Saragossa, as counts thy mishap his misfortune, and thy care his own calamity: yea, if either my counsel may comfort thy crazed mind, or my wealth relieve thy want, try and then trust: and if thou findest me troathlesse, the gods reward my treachery with most vile and extreme misery.  
Pharicles hearing the great protestations of his faithful friend Ferragus, and perceiving that his friendship was constant and not counterfeit, not only told him that this report of his exile was but a tale to try his affection, but also revealed unto him the very troth of his departure from Italy: what hap had passed between him and Mamillia, and also the letter of Clarinda: which when Ferragus saw, he both gave him counsel to avoid such a common Courtesan, and further to drive him out of those dumps, carried him to his father's house to pass away the time in parley.  
Where, assoon as they came, they found Signior farness in the garden devising pleasantly with diverse Gentlewomen, amongst whom was Madam Gambara the marquess of Saldena, and the young Lady Modesta: who seeing Pharicles, were very glad of his so happy arrival, that now they might try what was in the Gentleman, sith he was the man that bore the bell for courtly bringing up throughout all Sicilia. But Pharicles seeing them in earnest talk, thought they had been canvasing of some serious and secret matter, and not being very well acquainted with the marquess, knew it past manners to come to counsel before he were called, began to withdraw himself out of the garden had not Signior farness recalled him on this wise.  
What Master Pharicles quoth he, is it the fashion in Padua to be so strange with your friends, knowing that you are not so soon come as welcome, nor so hastily arrived as heartily desired of all the company? I speak also for my Lady Gambara and Madam Modesta, especially at this time, since there is such a passing doubtful matter in question as all our cunning cannot decide. We knowing therefore that you travelers cannot be without experience and especially in such loving cases, will refer our whole controversy, if the marquess and my Lady Modesta be content, to your skilful determination, and in my opinion we shall have happed on a very fit judge.  
Sir quoth he, I both know and find myself far more welcome to your house than my small deserts can merit: yet not willing to strain so much upon your courtesy, to be so bold to intrude myself into company where both my betters are in presence and the talk utterly unknown, lest they might judge I had either small nurture or less manners. But since it hath pleased my Lady the marquess and Madam Modesta (to whom I think myself greatly bound that their Ladyships will vouchsafe of such a simple Gentleman) to admit me for a hearer of such a doubtful discourse: yet Sir I accept not the conditions, for if the case be so intricate as neither your old years nor great experience can decide, it were far unfit for me to set down a sentence whose age and skill is yet in the budding, and especially in such an honourable company where either their countenance or calling may force me speak either for fear or favour.  
No Master Pharicles (quoth the marquess) although I have such opinion both of your wit and skill as I durst in a more weighty matter than this admit you for a judge: yet since you are a party touched within the compass of the commission, I will not tie myself so straightly to your verdict, as either your yea or nay shall stand for payment unless you bring the soundest reason.  
Our question is Master Pharicles whether the man or the woman be more constant or loyal in love. The cause of our controversy arose about certain vain verses compiled by an injurious Gentleman here in Saràgossa, who with despiteful taunts hath abused the Gentlewomen of Sicilia, most peevishly describing their apparel, and presumptuously deciphering their nature. But leaving him to his folly, you know both the case and the cause, and therefore let us hear your opinion.  

The copy of the verses.  
SInce Lady mild (too base in array) hath lived as an exile,  
None of account but stout: if plain? stolen slut not a courtresse  
Dames nowadays? fie none: if not new guised in all points  
Fancies fine, fawst with conceits, quick wits very wily.  
Words of a Saint, but deeds guess how, feigned faith to deceive men.  
Curtsies coy, no vale but a vaunt tricked up like a Tuscan.  
Paced in print, brave lofty looks, not used with the vestals.  
In hearts too glorious, not a glance but fit for an Empress.  
As minds most valorous, so strange in array: marry stately.  
Up fro the waist like a man, new guise to be cased in a doublet.  
Down to the foot (perhaps like a maid) but hosde to the kneestead.  
Some close breetcht to the crotch for cold, tush; peace; 'tis a shame Syr.  
heareth by birth as black as jet, what? art can amend them.  
A periwig frounced fast to the front, or curled with a bodkin.  
Hats from France thick pearld for pride, and plumde like a peacock.  
Ruffs of a Size, stiff starched to the neck, of Lawn; marry lawless.  
Gowns of silk, why those be too bad? side, wide with a witness.  
Small and gentI'the waist, but backs as broad as a Burgess.  
Needless noughts, as crisps, and scarphes' worn Alla Morisco.  
Fumde with sweets, as sweet as chaste, no want but abundance.   
Pharicles having read these verses smiling at the vain of the Gentleman, found his mind clogged with a double care. For to praise men for their loyalty he found his own conscience a just accuser of their inconstancy, to condemn women for their fickleness he saw Mamillia and Publia two precedents of perfect affection: yet for fashion sake he made this or such like answer.  
If credit Madam may be given to those ancient authors, whose wit, wisdom and learning hath shrined them up in the famous temple of immortality, your demand is answered, and the question easily decided. For Socrates, Plato, yea and Aristotle himself, who spent all their time in searching out the secret nature of all things, assigned this as a particular quality appertaining to womankind, namely, to be fickle and inconstant, alleging this Astronomical reason, that Luna a feminine and mutable Planet hath such predominant power in the constitution of their complexion because they be phlegmatic, that of necessity they must be fickle, mutable and inconstant, whereas Choler, wherewith men do abound, is contrary, and therefore by consequence stable, firm and without change: so that by how much the more the body is Phlegmatic, by so much the more the mind is fickle: and where the body is most Choleric, there the mind is most constant. To leave these rules of Astronomy, and to come to human reason, Pindarus, Homer, Hesiodus, Ennius, Virgil, martial, Propertius, and many authors more, whose pithy and golden sentences have in all ages been holden as divine Oracles, have in all their writings with one consent averred, that the natural disposition of women is framed of contraries: now liking, now loathing, delighting this, and now again despising the same: loving and hating: yea laughing & weeping, and all with one wind: so that it is their natural constitution in this one property to be like the Polipe: that if it happen some one woman not to be variable, it is not so because it is her nature, but because she hath amended her fault by nurture. For the confirmation of the former premises, Madam, it is not necessary to infer examples, sith there is none here but could report infinite histories of such dissembling dames as have falsified their faith to their lovers, whereas the constancy of men is such, that neither hath any authors found it faulty, neither can as I conjecture, if you speak as you think, your conscience condemn them as guilty, so that to confirm the loyalty of men were as much as to prove that which is not denied.  
How say you to this quoth Signior Farnese, hath not Pharicles answered you fully to your question? is not now my former reasons confirmed and yours utterly infringed?  
Tush sir quoth the marquess, one tale is always good until another is heard, but all this wind shakes no corn, neither is the defendant overthrown at the fist plea of the plaintiff. The more glistering the skin of the Serpent is, the more infectious: where the billows be greatest, there the water is shallowest: the rotten wall hath the most need of painting, and the falsest tale hath need of the fairest tongue: where the greatest show of eloquence is, there is the smallest effect of troth. But to your surmised Sophistry thus I answer master Pharicles, that whereas you build your reasons upon the credit of ancient authors, I will lay my foundation upon the same rock, and so thrust you on the bosom with your own lance. For as for Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, whom you allege as ratifiers of your former reasons, I say that both they and others who far surpass them in the sacred skill of Astronomy, affirm (as you say) that the natural constitution of women is Phlegm, and of men Choler, which if you consider with indifferent judgement, proveth us trusty and you trothless, us constant and you variable, us loyal under Luna, and you mutable under Mars. For the Phlegmatic complexion is cold and moist, utterly repugnant to the flaming heat of voluptuous desires, participating of the nature of water, which so cooleth and quencheth the fire of fancy, as having once fixed the mind, it resisteth with the cold moisture the frying heat of fond and fickle affection, whereas the choleric constitution is hot & dry, soon set on fire and soon out, easily inflamed and as easily quenched, ready to be scorched with the least heat of beauty, being of the nature of fire which is the most light and moving Element of all, firing at the first sight, and yet so dry as it hath no continuance, being very violent and little permanent. And though Luna is predominant in our complexion, yet Mercury is Lord of your constitution, being in his constellation fleeting, inconstant, variable, treacherous, trothless, and delighting in change: so that it is not so common as true, the nature of men is desirous of novelty. And as touching Hesiodus, Homer, Virgil and others, I answer that evil will never spoke well, and that Martial & the rest of his cogging companions, because they found some one halting, they will condemn all for créeples, thinking by discrediting others unjustly to make themselves famous, and condemning others of that whereof they themselves are chiefly to be accused. Who fixeth his fancy, and then changeth affection? who promiseth love and performeth hate? who now liketh and within a moment loatheth? who wooeth one and sueth to another? who loyal in his lips and a liar in his heart? but only men, and yet they must be constant. As for the infinite examples you could infer master Pharicles to prove the disloyalty of women, you do well to conceal them because you cannot reveal them: for it is hard to reap corn where no seed was sown, to gather grapes of a barren vine, to pull hair from a bald man's head, or to bring examples of women's disloyalty which never committed such trothless treachery. But as for your changing champions which challenge to defend your crazed constancy, how trusty was Theseus to poor Ariadne? Demophoon dissembled with Phillis, and yet she died constant. Aeneas a very straggler, yet Dido never found halting. jason without faith, and yet Medea never fleeting. Paris a counterfeit Chameleon, & yet Oenone a trusty Turtle. Ulysses variable, and Penelope most constant. Yea, Pharicles infinite examples might be brought which would breed our credit and your infamy, if time as well as matter would permit me. So that the inconstancy of such mutable Mercurialistes, and courtly copesmates as you be, is grown to such a custom, that flattery is no fault, & variety is rather embraced as a virtue than rejected as a vice. In fine, the blossom of disloyalty hath brought forth such faithless fruit in your mutable minds, as he that is constant is counted a calf, and he that cannot dissemble cannot live.  
How now Signior Farnese, quoth the lady Modesta, hath not the marquess given Pharicles a cake of the same dow, yea, hath she not better defended the Fort than he could assault it? Now you see Pharicles counterfeit coin will go for no payment, and his rampire too weak to withstand her force, and his reason not so strong but they are clearly infringed.  
In troth, quoth Farnese, my Lady marquess hath played the valiant champion, and hath put in so perfect a plea to defend her client's cause, that if I have ever any case in the Court, she shall be my counsellor.  
jest how you please, quoth the marquess, I am sure mine adversary will confess, that howsoever I faltered in my tale, I failed not in the truth.  
Indeed Madam, quoth Pharicles, it is a fowl bird defiles the own nest, and yet I will say my conscience, that for constancy men are far more to be appeached of want than women to be condemned for defect, and therefore who soever made the forepast verses, was both unjust and injurious: yea, the railing of Mantuan in his Eglogs, the exclaiming of Euripides in his Tragedies, the taunts of martial, and privy quips of Propertius, are more of course than cause, and rather enforced by rage than inferred by reason.  
What Pharicles quoth Signior Farnese, I see thou canst hold a candle before the devil, and that you can so cunningly run a point of Descant, that be the plain song never so simple thou canst quaver to please both parts. You were even now a condemner of women's variety, and are you now an accuser of men's inconstancy? If you be so variable in your verdict, we will think that either you speak foolishly without skill or as a flatterer to please women. But indeed it is dangerous for him to speak ill of an Irish kearne that is offering a Cow to Saint Patrick, and as perilous for a man to blaspheme women that is kneeling at the shrine of Venus: sith than you are in the same case we will take your devotion for a sufficient excuse. In the mean time if it please my Lady the marquess we will go to dinner, and there end our discourse more at leisure.  
Content, quoth the marquess, and with that they went to dinner, where Pharicles behaved himself so wittily, as they stood in doubt whether his wit, beauty, or behaviour deserved greater commendations.  
Well, dinner being ended, Pharicles having the spurs in his side, alleging urgent cause of his so hastily departure took his leave of the marquess, and the rest of the company, and giving great thanks to Signior Farnese for his good cheer, hied him home in haste to his chamber. Where seeing the letter of Clarynda, a ghastly object to his gazing eyes, willing to return an answer that she might not accuse him of discourtesy, took Pen and Ink and wrote a letter to this effect.  
Pharicles to Clarynda, health.  
IT is hard Clarynda for him which cometh within the reach of a Crocodile to escape without danger, & it is as impossible to see the Cockatrice & not be infected. Who so toucheth the Torpedo must needs be charmed, and he that handleth a Scorpion cannot but be stricken: 'tis not possible to meddle with pitch & have clean hands, nor to be acquainted with a strumpet & have a good name. This considered Clarynda, I being a stranger of Italy, whose life & living is more noted than if I were a citizen in Saragossa, counting my honest behaviour the chiefest stay of my unknown state, feared lest thy maids arrival to my lodging should be hurtful to my countenance, or prejudicial to my credit. If then I grieved to have my parlour cumbered with the maid, you may well think I were loath to have my person troubled with the Mistress. For silence & modesty Clarynda which you say the force of my love constrained you to pass, I am sure you shook hands with modesty, and strained courtesy with silence long before you knew me for Pharicles, or I you for a Courtesan. Indeed you have brought forth fit examples to confirm your consequent, & I allow them. For silent Sappho was a rhyming monster of lechery, & you a rooted Mistress in bawdry: Modest Phedra was a most incestuous harlot, and you a most infectious strumpet: so that your comparisons hold very well, sith the equality of your manners makes them not odious. Dost thou think Clarinda that I am so careless in choice as to choose such filthy chaffer, or so soon alured as to be in love with such trash? No, no, I have such care to my credit and such regard to my calling, such respect to my birth, and such fear to defame my parentage, as I mean not to match with a Princess if she be not honest, much less than link myself to a lascivious Lais whose honesty shall be a pray to every straggling stranger. Shall I beat the bush and others get the birds? Shall I hold the net and others catch the fish? yea, shall every man get his fee of the Dear, and I get nothing but the horns? No I will first fast before I taste of such a dish as will turn me to so great displeasure. But you reply that the Mirabolanes in Spain are perilous in the bud & precious in the fruit, that the wine is sour in the press and yet sweet in the Cask, that she which is vicious in her youth may be virtuous in her age: I grant indeed it may be, but it is hard to bring the posse into esse. For the barking whelp proves always a biting dog, the young Fry will prove old Frogs: where the blossom is venomous, there the fruit must needs be infectious, where vice is embraced in youth, there commonly virtue is rejected in age: yea, 'tis a thing most commonly seen, that a young whore proves always an old Bawd. As for Rodhope the courtesan of Egypt, and Phyrne the strumpet of Athens, whom you bring in as examples of this strange Metamorphosis, I answer, that their particular conversion inferreth no general conclusion. For though Rodhope of a vicious maiden became a virtuous matron, and though Phryne of a lascivious Lamia became a loyal Lucretia, yet it follows not that you should of a straggling harlot become a stayed housewife: for we see it hardly cometh to pass that a young devil proves an old Saint. But put case you would perform as much as you promise, and make a change of your chaffer with better ware, of your fléeting affection with fixed fancy, that your forepast dishonesty would turn to perfect constancy, that of a careless Corynna you would become a careful Cornelia: yet I cannot recall the stone already cast, withhold the stroke already strooken, nor reclaim affection, fancy being already fixed. I am Clarynda, to put thee out of doubt, betrothed to a young Gentlewoman in Padua, who in beauty, wealth and honesty, is inferior to none in all Italy, and wouldst thou then have me leave the fine Partridge to pray on a carrion kite, to refuse the Hare and hunt at the Hedgehog, to falsify my faith to a most honest & beautiful dame, and plight my troth to a lascivious and dishonest strumpet? No Clarynda, thou hearest I cannot though I would, and if I could I will not, and so farewell.  
Not thine if he could, Pharicles.  
Pharicles having thus finished his letter, sent it by his Page to Clarynda, who receiving it heartily and rewarding the Page bountifully, went hastily into her closet, where unripping the seals she found not a preservative, but a poison; not news to increase her joy, but to breed her annoy; not loving lines as from a friend, but a quipping letter as from a foe; not a comfortive to lengthen her life, but a corrosive to shorten her days: yea, she found the letter so contrary to her former expectation, that now falling into a desperate mind, she turned her fervent love into extreme hate, her deep delight into deadly despite, as now her chiefest care and industry was to revenge her broiling rage upon guiltless Pharicles, which she speedily performed on this wise.  
It happened that upon the same day wherein she received the Letter, Signior Farnese and the rest of the Magistrates of Saragossa were assembled together in the common Hall, to consult of matters as concerning the state of their City, whither Clarynda came, and there openly accused Pharicles to be a Spy, and that his remaining in Saragossa was to see where the City was weakest, and that he had conferred with her how and when he might most conveniently betray it: and that she regarding more the commodity of her country than the love of a stranger, thought good to reveal the matter speedily, that they might the better prevent such a mischief.  
The Magistrates giving credit to Clarynda, and knowing that Pharicles had a pestilent wit for such a purpose, sent the officers to apprehend him, who finding him in his lodging, made him greatly astonished when he knew the cause of their coming, yet he made them good cheer and went the more willingly, because he felt his conscience clear from any such crime as might be objected against him. Pharicles being come into the common Hall, Signior Farnese saluted him on this manner.  
I see master Pharicles, quoth he, 'tis hard to judge the tree by the leaves, to choose the stone by his outward hue, cloth by his colour, and a man by his fair words, for none so fair as the Panther, and yet none so ravenous, the Peacock hath most glistering feathers and yet most ugly feet, the barren leaf is most delightful to be seen & most deadly to be tasted, the chrysolite pleaseth the eye and infecteth the stomach, yea, that which oft times seemeth most precious, proveth most perilous, for treachery hath a more glozing show than troth, and flattery displays a braver flag than faith: subtle Sinon could tell a finer tale than simple Brennus, and deceitful Ulysses had a fairer tongue than faithful Ajax: so Pharicles I perceive, the more wit thou hast, the more to be suspected, and thy fairest speech infers the foulest mind, thy courtesy here in Saragossa hath been but a cloak for thy treachery. Well Pharicles, have I brought up a bird to pick out mine own eyes? have I hatched up the egg that will prove a Cockatrice? yea, have I cherished thee as a friend, which wouldst murder me as a foe? have I sought to breed thy credit and thou devised my destruction? have (I say) I sought thy bliss and thou my bale? I thy weal and thou my woe? have our citizens here in Saragossa honoured thee as thy friends, and thou abhorred them as thine enemies? well, the greater their love was counting thee courteous, the greater plague will they inflict upon thee finding thee treacherous? The Trojans never showed more favour to any than to Sinon, who afterward betrayed the city. Who so welcome into Carthage as Aeneas, and yet he repaid them with ingratitude: the Babylonians never trusted any better than Zopyrus and he most traitorously betrayed them to Darius: and shall not their mishaps learn us to beware? yes Pharicles, we will prevent our danger with heaping coals upon thy head. The cause of these my speeches I need not rehearse, because thine own conscience condemns thee as guilty. Thou art accused here Pharicles by Clarinda to be a spy, yea, thou hast fought secretly to betray the city into the hands of the Italians thy countrymen, & upon this she hath here solemnly taken her oath. And besides this I give thee to understand, that thou canst not by the Statutes of Saragossa plead for thyself being a stranger if thou be appeached of treason, neither will it serve thee to have a testimonial from thy country, sith we know that the Italians are confederate to thy treachery, so that by the law this day thou shouldest die, since thy accuser hath confirmed the complaint with her corporal oath: yet I will stand so much thy friend as reprieve thee for forty days, to see what will fall between the cup and the lip, and with that he sat down.  
Pharicles amazed with this treacherous accusation of this graceless Courtesan, was so drenched in distress, and soused in sorrow to see that he might not acquit himself with unfolding this devised knavery, that if very courage had not been a conserve to comfort his care, he had there with present death ended this dissension. But cheering himself up as well as he could, he went to the jailor's house without uttering any one word, until there being solitary by himself he fell into these extremities.  
It is more grief (quoth he) to the silly Lamb to lie lingering in the gripe of the Tiger, than presently to be devoured, and he which is cast into the lions den wisheth rather to be torn in pieces than to live in fear of future torment: yea, I try by experience that to die cannot be full of care, because death cutteth off all occasions of sorrow, but to live & yet every day to look to die, of all woes is the most hellish misery: for the stinging fear to die, and the greedy desire to live make such a cruel combat in the mind of the condemned person, as no kind of torture (how ever so terrible) is to be compared to that when as one lingereth in life without any hope at all to live. And what then Pharicles, is there any mishap so miserable which thou hast not merited, or any death so despiteful, which thou hast not deserved? No, were thy torment thrice more terrible, it were not half sufficient to repay thy treachery: thy dissembling with Mamillia, and thy falsehood with Publia, unless the Gods be too unjust, cannot escape without vengeance. Why but do the Gods fret more at my flattery than they fumed at others folly? Aeneas dissembled with Dido, and yet was prosperous: Theseus deceived Ariadne, and yet happy: Paris contemned Oenone, and yet the Gods favoured his enterprise in gaining Helena: jason was unjust to Medea, and yet returned safe to Greece. Yea, but Pharicles, they were not so wilful as thou wert, to set thyself opposite both to the Gods and Fortune, they took time while time was, and held open the poke when the Pig was offered. For Aeneas though he forsook Dido, he obeyed the Gods in taking Lavinia, and Theseus though he rejected Ariadne, yet he took the dame which Fortune assigned him and that was Phedra: But Pharicles thou hast committed double offence, not only in forsaking thy forepast lovers, but also in rejecting her whom Fortune proffered thee, and that was Clarinda. Oh Pharicles be content with thy state, and let patience be the remedy to assuage this thy intolerable malady: for better hadst thou far turn the stone with Sisyphus, and be torn upon the wheel with Ixion, than be coupled with such a common Courtesan: yea, ere it be long thou wouldst think thyself happy to suffer ten thousand deaths to be separated from her company: for as there is no pain to be compared to the stinging of an Aspic, so there is no such plague as to be troubled with a strumpet. And with that such sorrow surcharged his molested mind, as he was not able to utter any more complaints.  
While thus Pharicles lay languishing in despair, there was a Merchant of Padua named Signior Rhamberto, who being newly arrived in Saragossa, and hearing of the late mishap of Pharicles, durst not bewray what countryman he was for fear of further danger, but conveyed himself out of Sicilia with as much speed as might be, and being come to Padua, thought good to show Signior Gonzaga in what distress Pharicles lay in Saragossa, but being come to the house, he found the Gentleman at the point of death, and all the Senators of Padua lamenting the extremity of his sickness, and therefore sat down among the rest and held his peace, when as Gonzaga scarce able to utter one word for weakness, taking his daughter Mamillia by the hand, gave her this fatherly advertisement.  
As daughter, quoth he, the man which hath the stone Agathes about him is surely defenced against adversity, so he which is forewarned by counsel if he be wise, is sufficiently armed against future mishap and misery. I therefore Mamillia having such fatherly affection and care for thy future state as duty binds me by instinct of nature, seeing I lie looking every minute when my silly soul shall leave my careful carckasse, thought good to give thee this fatherly farewell, as the only treasure which I charge thee by the law of duty most carefully to keep.  
Virginity Mamillia, is such a precious jewel to a virtuous Gentlewoman, as Euphronia being demanded of one of her suitors what dowry she had to the advancement of her marriage, answered, such wealth as could not be valued, for (quoth she) I am a virgin: meaning, that no wealth doth so enrich a maiden, nor no dowry, of what price so ever so adorn a Damsel, as to be renowned for inviolable virginity. Sith than Mamillia it ought to be more dear than life, and more esteemed than wealth, as thou hast been careful in my days to keep it without spot and thereby hast reaped renown, so I charge thee after my death to be as chary of such precious chaffer, lest thy sorepassed fame turn to thy greater discredit. Yea Mamillia and when the time cometh that thou meanest to match thyself in Marriage, bestow not that carelessly in one moment which thou hast kept carefully all thy life, but look before thou leap, try before thou trust, haste makes waste, hot love soon cold, and then too late cometh repentance: contemn not the counsel of thy friends, nor reject not the advise of thy kinsmen, prefer not thine own wit before the wisdom of thine Ancestors, nor lean not to wilfulness lest had I witted come too late. Be not secure least want of care procure thy calamity, nor be not too careful lest pensive thought oppress thee with misery. Build not thy love upon the outward shape of beauty, lest thou try thy foundation was laid on the fickle sands of vanity. Vow not thyself to his wealth whom thou meanest to love, nor wed not thyself to his wit, but let thy fancy grow so far as thou hearest the report of his virtue. Choose not by the eye Mamillia, but by the ear, and yet be not delighted with his fair words, lest if thou takest pleasure in hearing the Sirens sing, thou dash thy ship against most dangerous rocks. I need not I hope Mamillia stand so much upon these points, for a  child will dread the fire, and thou hast been too sore canvased in the nets, to be alured to the scrap, thou hast been too sore soused in the waves to venture in an unknown ford, and the treachery of Pharicles is sufficient to cause thee take heed of others flattery. Well Mamillia, after thou hast chosen howsoever thy choice be, seek to cherish thy husband with love, and obey him with reverence, be not too sad lest he think thou art sollempe, nor too light lest he condemn thee of lewdness, and above all have a regard to thy good name, and a care to the safe keeping of thy honour. Let not too much familiarity breed any suspicion, nor show no such countenance as may give occasion of mistrust, but so behave thyself as thou mayst be a credit to thy husband, and a comfort to thy friends. Upon these considerations Mamillia I have left thee by my last will and testament only heir and sole executor of all my lands and movables, yet with this proviso, that if thou marry with faithless Pharicles, that then thou shalt be disinherited of all my goods and lands, and that the City of Padua shall as mine heir enter into all my possessions, and for the performance of my will, I leave the whole Senate as supervisors. Gonzaga had scarcely spoken these last words, but his breath was so short that he could speak no longer, and within three hours after he departed, leaving Mamillia a sorrowful child for the loss of so good a Father.  
Well, after that Mamillia had by the space of a week worn her mourning weed, and the daily resort of her friends had something redressed her sorrow, Signior Rhamberto (though very loath) revealed unto her the whole estate of Pharicles distress, how he was put in prison for a spy, and that he was accused as one that sought to betray Saragossa where he sojourned into the hands of the Italians, and that in lieu of this his treachery he should upon the fortieth day for this so heinous a fact be executed.  
Mamillia hearing into what misery Pharicles was fallen, although his unjust dealings had deserved revenge, yet she remitted all forepast injuries, and began to take compassion of his mishap, yielding forth such sobbing sighs and scalding tears, as they were witnesses of her distressed mind, and earnestly entreating Signior Rhamberto for Pharicles credit to conceal the matter as secretly as might be, who having promised to keep the matter as secret as she could request, took his leave & departed, but Mamillia seeing herself solitary, fell into these contrary passions.  
Well now I see it true by experience, that where the hedge is lowest there every man goeth over, that the weakest is thrust to the wall, and he that worst may holds the candle: that the slenderest twig is oftimes laden with most fruit, the smallest stalk of corn hath the greatest ear, and he that hath most need of comfort is of time most crossed with calamity. Alas injurious fortune, is it not sufficient for thee to deprive me of my Father which was more dear unto me than mine own life: but also to heap care upon care, and sorrow upon sorrow, I mean to murder that man whom in all the world I chief esteem! Pharicles I mean, who is the fountain of my joy, the haven of my happiness, and the stay of all my felicity, who hath won my heart by love, and shall wear it by law. What sayest thou Mamillia, shall Pharicles enjoy thee? Art thou so careless of thy father's commandment, so soon to forget his counsel? Shall his words be as wind, and his talk of so little effect as thou meanest rechlesly to regard it? Wilt not thou in thy life observe that which he enjoined thee at his death? Was not Pharicles the only man he forbade thee to marry, and wilt thou choose him for thy mate? In loving him thou dost forfeit thy lands and show thyself a disobedient daughter, in hating the man thou enjoyest thy possessions, and declares thyself a dutiful child. Tush Mamillia, is not Pharicles the man to whom thou art confirmed by love and contracted by law? Did not thy father consent to the match and agree to the covenant? And shall he now upon so light an occasion cause thee to violate thine oath, break thy promise, and turn thy love to hate? No, I will obey my father as far as the law of Nature commands me, but to crack my credit and clog my conscience I will not consent: neither his fatherly counsel nor the loss of my goods and lands shall constrain me to forsake Pharicles, no misling mists of misery, no drenching showers of disaster fortune, nor terrible tempests of adversity shall abate my love or wrack my fancy against the slippery rocks of inconstancy: yea if my lands will buy his ransom or my life purchase his freedom, he shall no longer lead his life in calamity.  
And with that she fling out of her chamber being so diligent and careful to bring her purpose to pass, that within short space she furnished a ship wherein in disguise apparel she sailed to Sicilia coming to Saragossa the day before Pharicles should be executed, where she dealt so warily and wisely, that not only she learned the cause of his imprisonment, but also got the copy of those letters which had passed between Clarynda and Pharicles, thinking every hour a year till the next morning.  
Well the dismal day being come wherein Pharicles by the dint of death should dispatch all his forepast miseries, Ferragus being clad in mourning attire with a pensive heart and sorrowful countenance cometh to accompany Pharicles so distressed with grief & oppressed with sorrow, so blubbered with tears and blown up with sighs, that Pharicles was feign to comfort him on this wise.  
Why friend Ferragus quoth he, shall the patiented appoint the salve, or the sick man set down the medicine? Shall he that is crossed with care be a comforter, or the distressed man be driven to give counsel? Shall I which now on every side am pinched with the pains of death become a Physician to cure thy calamity? Or rather shouldest not thou in this extremity seek to assuage my dolor with comfortable encouragement? Why Ferragus am I more hardy which am at the hazard of death, than thou which art devoid of danger? Yea: for by how much the more I feel my conscience guiltless of this crime, by so much the more I feel my mind free from sorrow. Socrates would not have his friend lament when he drunk his fatal draft, because quoth he, causeless death ought to be without dolour: so good Ferragus cheer thyself since thy friend Pharicles is so far from treason to Saragossa, as thou from treachery to Padua. Pharicles scarcely had uttered these words when the officers entreated him to make haste, for signor Farnese and the rest of the Magistrates had stayed a great space for his coming at the common Hall. Pharicles knowing that procrastination in care was but to increase sorrow, found no fish on his fingers, nor made no delays from his death, but went with them willingly. He being arrived there before the Magistrates, signor Farnese standing up to pronounce the fatal sentence, was interrupted by Mamillia, who coming in richly attired and strangely disguised, kneeling on her knees craved leave to speak, which being granted, she uttered these words.  
You have great cause to muse and marvel) O noble and worthy Sicillians) in that a silly virgin a stranger, yea and of the same City of Padua, which is now so detested of the citizens of Saragossa, dare presume not fearing any danger to present herself amidst so many enemies. But whom the devil drives he must needs run, and where law and necessity are two spurs in the side, there the party so perplexed neither maketh delay nor feareth danger, so that Gentlemen by how much the more my arrival is to be thought strange, by so much the more my distressed grief is to be supposed greater. It is not the hope of preferment which forced me to this extremity, because I am of sufficient parentage and patrimony in mine own country, neither the desire to see foreign fashions, because it is not fit for a virgin to be counted a wanderer. No it is partly for thy cause signor Farnese that I came, both to keep thee from pronouncing unjust judgement, to discover the monstrous treachery of a trothless Courtesan, and to save this guiltless Gentleman from present danger. Who by birth is a Paduan & of noble parentage, issued from such a stock as yet was never stained either for cowards or traitors. For his state, he is not free but contracted unto me by consent of both our parents. As concerning his sojourning in Saragossa, it was not to betray your city, but to learn your fashions, not to be counted a counterfeit, but to be called courteous? But to be brief, lest my tale might seem tedious to his unjust accusation inferred by such an injurious Courtesan, thus I answer, that if the calling of a strumpet carried as little credit here as it doth with us in Padua, Pharicles would have been more favourably examined, and her accusation more thoroughly canvased. It was not (O noble Farnese) that she accused Pharicles because of his treachery, but in that he would not consent to her vanity: not because she had such love to her native country, but in that Pharicles would not agree to match himself with so graceless a monster: and for the confirmation of this my allegiance, see here the Letter of Clarynda, and the reply of Pharicles, and with that she held her peace.  
Farnese and the rest of the Magistrates having read the contents of the letters, marveling at the mischievous mind of so hellish a harlot, sent speedily for Clarynda, who being come and more strictly examined, confessed the fault, and received the punishment due for such an offence. But when the citizens of Saragossa, and especially Ferragus, heard how Pharicles was acquitted and the treachery discovered, they both rejoiced for his happy delivery, and also wondered that such marvelous wit, wisdom, and incomparable constancy could remain within the young and tender years of Mamillia. But Pharicles seeing before his eyes the Goddess which had given him unhoped for life, driven as it were into an ecstasy for joy, with blushing cheeks & trembling joints as one feeling in his conscience the sting of his former inconstancy, welcomed her on this wise.  
Oh Mamillia quoth he, how welcome thou art to thy poor perplexed Pharicles I can scarcely conceive, much less able to express, but if time and place were convenient either to confess my fault or acknowledge my offence, thou shouldest perceive I did now as hearty repent as before wilfully offend. Alas how am I bound if it were but for this one only desert to remain thy bondslave for ever at command, well, omitting such secrets till a more convenient leisure, hoping thou hast forgiven and forgotten all forepast follies, I bid thee once again most heartily welcome to Saragossa. Pharicles quoth she, thy Mamillia takes this thy hearty welcome as a sufficient recompense for all her trouble and travel, assuring thee she hath both forgiven and forgotten all forepast injuries, otherwise I would never have taken such pains to free thee from danger. Let your amorous discourses alone till an other time quoth Farnese, for you shall with the rest of the Magistrates of Saragossa be my guests to day at dinner. Pharicles and Mamillia thanking Farnese for his courtesy, & accepting his gentle proffer, were not only his guests for that day, but were so sumptuously banqueted there for the space of a week, that they easily perceived by their good cheer how welcome they were to the Gentleman. At last taking their leave of Farnese, they returned home to Padua, where the Senators hearing of the strange adventures which Pharicles had passed, and perceiving the incomparable constancy of Mamillia, they were not only content that they two should marry together, but also, contrary to her father's last will & testament, let her peaceably enjoy all his lands and possessions. Marry whether Pharicles proved as inconstant a husband as a faithless wooer, I know not: but if it be my hap to hear, look for news as speedily as may be.  
Robert Greene..   

In praise of the Author and his Book.  

IN Britain soil there is a garden plat,  
Which for the Air and Nature of the place,  
Both wholesome is and bravely situate,  
Where learning grows and hath a noble grace.   

This plat doth yield unto us diverse plants,  
Which spread in time this Island round about,  
Though some of them good juice and moisture wants,  
Yet many have both pith and force (no doubt)   

Some sharp of taste, but very wholesome are,  
Some not so good, yet very toothsome be,  
Some toothsome are, and very good (though rare)  
Which all excel each other in degree.   

Not first nor next do please my fancy much,  
The last are best, which pleasant profit brings,  
'mongst whom this plant, (whose place and grace is such,)  
Doth yield a flower, which fair and lively springs.   

green is the plant, Mamillia the flower,  
Cambridge the plat, where plant and flower grows,  
London the place which brought it first in power,  
The Court a seat most fit for such a rose.   

And to be short (if I true prophet be)  
Plate, place, and seat, this pleasant rose shall see,  
If plant doth please court, city, and country,  
And not displease her noble Majesty.   
G. B.  

Nomen & ingenium cum debet inesse Poëtae.  
Omen ita & genium debet habere liber.  
o'er placet Grenus, prodest oculisque colore,  
Ingenium genium, nomen & omen habet.   

 virtutis comes invidia, sic  
Calami comes calumnia.    

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL and virtuous Gentlewoman Mary Rogers, wife to M. Hugh Rogers of Euerton, increase of worship and virtue.  
PRaxiteles the Painter, being demanded why in presenting a curious target to Minerva he did most cunnigly portray the picture of her Priest Chrisites, answered that Mynerua was wise, & so was Chrisites, & that being his friend he thought this the best means to gratify him. Which saying of Praxiteles I take as a sufficient excuse for my rashness. For if I be demanded why in dedicating my Book to others I have inserted your worships name, I answer that both your constant, virtuous and godly disposition caused me with Praxiteles to engrave your name in a work where gentlewomen's constancy is so stiffly defended, knowing your rare and virtuous qualities to be such, as your very enemies (if you have any) shall be forced maugre their face to extol your fame with immortal praise, and also your liberal bounty & friendly courtesy (whereof without any desert I have tasted) drove me, though not as I would, yet as I could, to show the dutiful affection wherewith I am bound to be at your command for ever. While thus I wished more evidently to show some sign of my good will, a certain letter of Mamillia to the young Lady Modesta chanced to come unto my hands, wherein the Anatomy of lovers flatteries is displayed, which I humbly present unto your worshipful patronage, desiring you to accept it, not according to the value of the gift, but to the mind of the giver, and assuring you that none of your well-willers do in heart wish you more prosperity, though my ability be not able in outward show to make it manifest. Thus ceasing to trouble your worship, I commit you to the Almighty.  
Clare Hall the seven. of july. Yours at command, ROBERT GREEN.   

THE ANATOMY OF LOVER'S FLATTERIES.  

Mamillia to the young and virtuous Virgin the Lady Modesta.  
I Remember Madam that when as my grandfather Lewes Gonzaga was newly created Duke of Nevers, that divers of his friends to show their dutiful affection, offered him sundry rich presents most meet for so high a parsonage and amongst the rest a certain Musician presented unto his hands a scroll wherein were pricked two or three curious points of cunning descant, desiring the Duke to accept of his simple gift, sith therein was comprehended all his riches and skill, to attain the which, he had passed divers countries and most dangerous perils. The Duke wisely weighing with himself, that nothing was more precious than that which was purchased with danger, accepted the gift as a most precious jewel. Considering which, Madam, and finding myself so greatly indebted to your Ladyship for the great courtesy and good entertainment you showed me in Saragossa, as my insufficiency shall never be able to requite it, I thought good least happily I might be thought ungrateful, or counted so oblivious as to forget a good turn, in stead of precious gems and rich jewels to present your Ladyship, with a casketful of friendly counsel, which so much the more is to be esteemed chary chafre, by how much the more I have bought the proof and experience of the same with pain and peril. And if Madam you shall take it as a caveat to avoid the alluring snares of Cupid's flatteries, both I shall be glad my writing took so good effect, & you have cause hereafter to thank me for my counsel.  
That lascivious Poet Ovid, Madam Modesta, whom justly we may term the foe to womankind, hath not only prescribed in his books de art Amandi a most monstrous Method to all men, whereby they may learn to allure simple women to the fulfilling of their lust, and the losing of their own honour, but also hath set down his books de remedio amoris, to restrain their affections from placing their fancies but for a time upon any Dame, which books are so sauced with such blasphemous descriptions of women's infirmities, as they show that with the Satire he could out of one mouth blow both hot and cold. Yea Iwenall, Tibullus, Propertius, Calimachus, Phileta, Anacreon, and many other authors have set down caveats for men, as armours of proof to defend themselves from the alluring subtleties of women. But alas, there is none contrariwise which hath set down any prescript rules wherewith women should guide themselves from the feigned assault of men's pretended flattery, but hath left them at discovert to be maimed with the glozing gun-shot of their protested perjuries, which seemeth repugnant to nature. For if the silly Lamb had more need of succour than the lusty Lion, if the weak and tender vine standeth in more need of props than the strong oaks, women sure, whom they count the weak vessels, had more need to be counseled than condemned, to be fortified than to be feared, to be defenced than both with Nature and Art to be assaulted. But this their injurious dealing were a sufficient caveat, if women were wise, to cause them beware of men's pretended policies, and not to be enticed to that train whereunder they know a most perilous trap to be hidden. The beasts will not come at the Panther for all his fair skin, because by instinct of Nature they know he is a murderer: the fish will not come at the bait though never so delicate, for fear of the hidden hook? neither can the glistering feathers of the bird of Egypt cause the silly Lark to keep her company, sith she knew her for her mortal enemy. Yet we simple women too constant and credulous, God knows to deal with such trothless jasons, yield our heart and hand, our love, life and liberties to them, whom we know cease not only publicly to appeach us of a thousand guiltless crimes, but also secretly seek with forged flattery to scale the Fort, and to sack both honour and honesty. But Madam, omitting women's foolish simplicity in trusting too much men's subtle flattery, seeing it is as well given by Nature for the woman to love as for the man to lust, I will first define what love is, namely a desire of beauty: and beauty according to the mind of sundry writers is of three sorts, of the mind, of the body, and of the speech, which if they concur in one particular person, and especially that of the mind, sufficiently furnished with virtues & requisite qualities, such a one ought a Gentlewoman to choose: but the chance is as hard as to find out a white Ethiopian. Sith than it is so difficult among infinite Scorpions to find out one silly Eel, amidst a whole quarry of flint to choose out one precious gem, and amongst a thousand lusting lechers one loyal lover, and so hard to descry the true sterling from the counterfeit coin, and the precious medicine from the perilous confection: I will as well as I can point you out the crew of those cogging companions, which outwardly profess themselves to be trusty lovers, and inwardly are ravening Wolves and troathlesse lechers. There are some, Madam, of this dissembling troop, which rightly may be termed maskers, some hypocrites, some Poets, some Crocodiles, some Scorpions, and the Genus to all these forepast Species is flatterers. The maskers are they, Madam, which covertly under the colour of courtesy shroud a pestilent and peevish kind of curiosity: their countenance shall be grave though their conditions be without grace, and when they see any Gentlewoman addicted to be courteous, honest, wise, and virtuous, they will strait with the Polipe change themselves into the likeness of every object, knowing that it is impossible to entice the birds to the trap, but by a stolen of the same kind. They carry in outward show the shadow of love, but inwardly the substance of lust, they have a fine die though a course thread, and though at the first they shrink not in the wéeting, yet that poor Gentlewoman shall have cause to curse her peniwoorth which tries them in the wearing: she shall find them whom she though to be Saints to be Serpents, that those who in wooing are Doves, in wedding to be devils, that in the fairest grass lies hid the foulest Snake, in the bravest tomb the most rotten bones, & in the fairest countenance the foulest conditions: those whom I term to be hypocrites, are they who pricked forward with lust to fix their fléeting fancy upon some silly dame, whom nature hath beautified both with the shape of beauty and substance of virtue, judging that it is naturally given to women to be desirous of praise, seek to call them to the lure with recounting their singular qualities, and extolling their perfections even above the skies, flourishing over their flattery with a Rhetorical gloze of feigned dissimulation, the poor maid whom they call their mistress, they like counterfeits canonize for an earthly goddess, comparing her for her beauty to Venus, for her wit to Minerva, for her chastity to Diana, & yet this virtue the chiefest thing they seek to spoil her of: her eyes are twinkling stars, her teeth pearls, her lips coral, her throat ivory, her voice most musical harmony: yea she is so perfect in all points, as they marvel how so heavenly a creature is shrouded under the shape of mortality: these I say who have honey in their mouth and gall in their heart, are such hypocritical flatterers as they seek with sugared words and filled speech to inveigle the silly eyes of well meaning Gentlewomen, when as inwardly they scoff at the poor maids which are so blind as not to see their extreme folly and gross flattery. Prattling Poets I call those who having authority with Painters to feign, lie, and dissemble, seek with Siren's songs and enchanting charms of devilish invention, to bewitch the minds of young and tender virgins, under the colour of love to draw them to lust, painting out in Songs and Sonnets their great affection, and deciphring in feigned rhymes their forged fancy: they be taken in the beams of her beauty as the be in the Cobweb, they are singed at the sight of her fair face, as the Fly at the Candle, they suffer worse pains than Sisyphus, more torments than Tantalus, more grief than Ixion: they are plunged in Pluto's pit, and so drowned in distress, that unless the silly maid by selling her freedom, and losing both honour and honesty give a salve to their surmised sore, they shall end their days in hellish misery: yea to decipher their sorrows more narrowly, they are so overgrown with grief, as in all their body they have no place whole, but their heart, nothing at quiet but their mind, nor nothing free but their affection, they are indeed so passionate in their pen, and such inckpot lovers, that the poor maid which by trusting too much is charmed with their magical enchantments, shall find their firmest fancy was but forged folly, their love was but tickling lust, and that the hotness in their chase was but to make shipwreck of her chastity. The nature of the crocodile, Madam, is with grievous groans and trickling tears to crave help as one in distress, but who so cometh to secure him is presently devoured: so Madam, those kind of lovers whom I term Crocodiles, are they which when neither flattery can prevail, nor supposed courtesies is of force to scale the Fort of their invincible honesty, than (knowing that gentlewomen are pitiful and wholly framed of the mould of mercy) they fall with the crocodile to their feigned tears, seeking with dissembled sighs and sobs, with weeping and wailing, with distressed cry, and pitiful exclamations, to move her to take pity of their plaint, whom after with greedy gripes they bring to utter decay and ruin. But Madam, as the juice of the herb Baaran drieth faster than it can be pressed out, and as the water of the fountain Sibia can no faster be powered into brass but it turneth into metal, so there is nothing in the world that drieth sooner than a lovers tears, nor no sickness sooner inwardly salved than a lovers sorrow, their care may soon be cured, because it cometh not from the heart, and their mourning soon amended, sith it no whit moveth the mind: yet they can so cunningly counterfeit the shadow of a perplexed patient, and have trickling tears and far fetched sighs so at their command, that few well meaning and pitiful maids can escape the train of their alluring subtleties. Scorpion's Madam, are they which sting with their tail, and seek with despiteful terms to abuse the credit of Gentlewomen: these be those kind of lovers which having neither comeliness of person nor conditions of mind, neither wit, wisdom, beauty, or learning, nor any other good quality to purchase them credit or win them the favour of women, but are utterly rejected as unsavoury, salting neither worth the tasting nor eating, seek then with blasphemous reproaches and injurious railing to call the fame of honest Gentlewomen in question, than they condemn them of inconstancy, comparing them to Chameleons, Polipes, and weathercocks, affirming their fancies to be fleeting, their love to be light, and their choice wholly settled in change: that they be malicious, deceitful, enchanting Syreus, crafty Calipso's, as subtle as Serpents, as cruel as Tigers, and what not? and the cause of this their unjust accusing cometh not through any injury offered them by Gentlewomen, but that they themselves are so imperfect both in mind and body, that both by nature and art they may justly be appeached of want. Having now Madam though not eloquently yet truly set down before your face in plain colour the Anatomy of such licentious lovers as seek with alluring baits to entrap the minds of chaste maidens, sith love is the labyrinth which leadeth us to be devoured of these incestuous monsters, let us learn to fly it as warily as wise Ulysses did the Mermaids. Anacreon who spoke by experience and writ by proof, calleth love a tyrant, mischievous, cruel, hardy, unkind, foul, ungracious, cursed, wicked, and the cause of all mischief. Love of beauty sayeth he is the forgetting of reason, the father of frenzy, the disturber of the mind, the enemy to health, the sink of sorrow, the garden of grief, and to conclude, a confused chaos of misery: so that if it might be seen with bodily eyes, or be an object to our exterior senses, the Basilisk is not more feared, nor the Cockatrice more avoided than loathsome love would be eschewed and detested. What folly is it for that woman which is free to become captive, which is at liberty to become a perpetual slave to another man, who having the choice in her own hand to live at her own lust, will willingly yield herself subject to be directed at another man's pleasure? But this affection of love naturally traineth & entrappeth young minds, and especially of women, wherefore they had need to take the more heed least happily it stealeth upon them, for commonly it cometh upon such as will not seek means to prevent, but carelessly receive it as a sweet & pleasant thing, not knowing what and how perilous a poison lies hid under that pleasant face. Let her therefore that will avoid this frantic & foolish affection, give no more ear unto the alluring charms of the feigned lover than unto the song of an enchanting sorcerer, let her consider that as it is proper to the Chameleon to change, to the Fox to be wily, to the Lion to be haughty, and to the Hyena to be guileful, so it is the property of lovers to dissemble, that when he doth most fry in fancy, than he doth most freeze in affection, when he feigneth Aetna he proveth Caucasus, when he complaineth of care than is he most secure, when he waileth outwardly then he laugheth inwardly, like to the stone Ceraunon, which when it burneth most fervently, being broken distilleth most cold liquor. The end also of these lovers affection is to be considered, which is not for her virtue, wisdom, or honesty, but either alured by her beauty which she enjoyeth, or her riches that she possesseth. The skin of the Ermelyn is desired and the carcase despised, the horn of the Unicorn most preciously received and his flesh rejected, the hoof of the Leopard is the thing that hunters seeks or else he is contemned, so the beauty and riches of a woman is highly regarded, but her virtue and honesty lightly esteemed, that as the taste being once glutted thinketh the sweet wine sour, or as the finest delicates to a full stomach seemeth but course cates, so he that buildeth his love upon beauty of the body and only regardeth riches when the beauty is faded, his love decreaseth or being satiate with pleasure loatheth the plenty, or if wealth want, his love pineth with extreme penury. But put case the mind is already caught in the snares of Cupid, and hath yielded herself as a vassal unto Venus, let us find a remedy to draw her out of this perilous Labyrinth. I remember the saying of Dant, that love cannot roughly be thrust out but it must easily creep, and a woman must seek by little and little to recover her former liberty, wading in love like the Crab whose pace is always backward, calling to her remembrance that if her lover be fair, he will be proud of his person, if rich, his substance procureth stateliness, if of noble parentage, it maketh him disdainful: that the stone Echites is most pleasant to the eye, but most infectious to be handled, that the herb called Flos Solis is beautiful to behold but deadly to be tasted, that the fairest face hath oft times the falsest heart, and the comeliest creature most currish conditions: who more fair than Paris, yet a trothless traitor to his love Oenone. Ulysses was wise, yet wavering, Aeneas a pleasant tongue, yet proved a parasitical flatterer, Demophoon demure and yet a dissembler, jason promiseth much yet performed little, and Theseus addeth a thousand oaths to Ariadne, yet never a one proved true. Consider the herb of India is of pleasant smell, but who so cometh to it feeleth present smart, the gourde leaf profitable, the seed poison, the rind of the tree Tillia most sweet and the fruit most bitter, the outward show of such flattering lovers full of delight, but the inward substance sawsed with despite. Call also to mind their often perjuries, their vain oaths, falsified promises and inconstancy, their protestations, pilgrimages, & a thousand dissembled flatteries, and if thy lover be infected with any particular fault, let that be the subject whereon to muse, knowing that many vices are hidden under the coloured shape of virtue, if he be liberal think him prodigal, if eloquent a babbler, if wise inconstant, if bold rash, if timorous a dastard, if he be well backed think it is the tailors art & not nature's workmanship, if a good waste attribute it to his coat that is shaped with the Spanish cut, if well legged think he hath a bombast hose to cover his deformity, yea drive all his perfections out of thy mind, and muse upon his infirmities, so shalt thou lead a quiet life in liberty and never buy repentance too dear, and though he counts thee cruel because thou art constant and dost refuse to yield to thine own lust, think it no discredit: for musty casks are fit for rotten grapes, a poisoned barrel for infectious liquor, and cruelty is too mild a medicine for flattering lovers. Thus Madam, you have heard my counsel which I have learned by proof and speak by experience, which if you willingly accept, I shall think my labour well bestowed, and if you wisely use, you shall think your time not ill spent, but if you do neither, my well wishing is never the worse, and so far you well.  
Yours to command, Mamillia.   

MODESTA TO HER Beloved Mamillia.  
IT is too late, Madam Mamillia, to sound the retreat, the battle being already fought, to dry the malt the kil being on fire, to wish for rain when the shower is past, to apply the salve the sore being remediless, & to give counsel the case being past cure, for before the corrosive came, the sore was grown to a festered Fistula, & ere your comfortable confect was presented to my hand, I was fallen into a strange Fever. Thou didst Mamillia counsel me to beware of love, and I was before in the lash. Thou didst wish me to beware of fancy, and alas I was fast fettered, I have chosen Mamillia (What do I say?) have I chosen? yea: but so poor soul as all my friends do wish me to change, and yet I have satisfied myself though not contented them. My friends regarded the money and I respected the man, they wealth and I wisdom, they lands and lordships and I beauty and good bringing up, so that either I must choose one rich whom I did hate and so content them, or take one poor, whom I did love and so satisfy myself. Driven Mamillia into this dilemma, I am to ask thine advise what I should do, whether I should lead my life with abundance of wealth in loath, or spend my days with no riches in love. In this if thou shalt stand my friend to give me thy counsel, I will if ever I be able requite thy courtesy. From Saragossa in haste.  
Thine assuredly, doubtful Modesta.  
Mamillia having received this Letter, returned her as speedily as might be an answer to this effect.   

MAMILLIA TO THE Lady Modesta.  
Madam Modesta, I have received your letters, & have viewed your doubtful demand, whereunto thus I answer, that to live we must follow the advise of our friends, but to love our own fancy: for to another man's living they may give precepts, but to fix fancy in love they can prescribe no certain principles. Then Madam, sith you have riches which may of a poor wooer make a wealthy spéeder, wed not for wealth, lest repentance cast the accounts, nor match not with a fool, lest afterward thou repent thine own folly, but choose one whose beauty may content thine eye, and whose virtuous wisdom may satisfy thy mind, so shalt thou have neither cause to repent, nor occasion to mislike thy choice, and that thou mayst perceive my meaning more plainly, read this following history with good advisement.  
There dwelled in Toledo a certain Castilian named Valasco by parentage a Gentleman, by profession a Merchant, of more wealth than worship, and yet issued of such parents as did bear both great countenance and credit in the country. This Valasco after the decease of his father was a ward to the Duke of Zamorra, who seeing him endued with great wealth and large possessions having the disposition of his marriage in his hands, married him to a kinswoman of his named Sylandra, a Gentlewoman neither endued with wit nor adorned with beauty: and yet not so witless but she was wilful, nor so deformed but she was proud, insomuch as her inward vices and outward vanities, did in tract of time so quat the queasy stomach of her husband Valasco, that although in his childish years he did not mislike of her folly, yet in his ripe years when reason was a rule to direct his judgement, he so detested the infirmities of her nature and the infections of her nurture, as she was the only woman his crazy stomach could not digest. Valasco being thus cumbered with such a cross, as the burden thereof was to him more heavy than the weight of the heavens to the shoulders of Atlas, and knowing by experience what a misery it was to marry without love, or make his choice without skill, and how loathsome it was to live without liking, or to be wedded to her whom neither his fancy nor affection did desire to enjoy: having by his wife Sylandra one only daughter named Syluia, determined with Themistocles to marry her rather to a man than to money, and never to match her with any whom she did not both entirely love and like. While he was in this determination Sylandra died, leaving Valasco a diligent husband for the finishing of his wines funerals, and a careful father for the well bringing up of his daughter Syluia, who now was about the age of sixteen years, so beautified with the gifts of nature, and adorned with sundry virtues and exquisite qualities, as the Citizens of Toledo were in doubt whether her beauty or virtue deserved greater commendation. Syluia flourishing thus in the prime of her youth and proving daily more excellent as well in the complexion of the body as in the perfection of her mind, grew so renowned for her famous feature almost throughout all Europe, that as they which came to Memphis thought they had seen nothing unless they had viewed the Pyramids built by Rhodope, so the strangers which arrived at Toledo thought their affairs not fully finished until they had obtained the sight of Syluia. So that as the most chary chafre hath ever most choice of chapmen, and as the richest iem hath ever most resort to view it and buy it, so by the means of Syluia the house of Valasco was so frequented with a noble train of worthy Suitors, as if it had been a common Burse for exchange of Merchandise. Yet all their wooing proved small spéeding, sith Syluia kept a loof from seizing on the lure. For although there were divers of most noble parentage and great possessions which required her in marriage, offering for her feoffment great lands and Lordships: yet Valasco would neither condescend without her consent, nor constrain her to consent to his commandment. Well, Syluia thus glorying in her freedom, and taking pleasure to trace in the large lees of liberty, was not suffered so quietly to fortify the bulwark of her chastity, but she had sundry assaults and daily canuizadoes to force her yield the fort to some of her importunate suitors, amongst whom, there repaired by mere chance at one time and in one day three Gentlemen of sundry nations and divers dispositions, the first an Italian called S. Gradasso, the second a Frenchman named Monsieur de vast, the third, an Englishman called master Petronius. Signior Gradasso, was very old but of great wealth, Monsieur de vast of surpassing beauty, but somewhat foolish, and master Petronius of great wit, but of very small wealth, these Gentlemen were very courteously entertained by Signior Valasco, whom they requited with sundry salutations to this effect. The renown sir, quoth Signior Gradasso, not only of your daughter's beauty, but also of her singular virtue is so blown abroad by fame in every place, and in every man's ears, as there hath been no talk for a time in Italy but of the perfection of Syluia, which forced me being now old and stricken in years, to repair hither as one desirous not only to see your daughter, but also to take her to wife, and to endue her with such feoffments and large possessions as she shallbe satisfied and you sufficiently contented. Gradasso having said his mind, Monsieur de vast not being the wisest man of the world in telling a tale, let a man of his called jaques be his interpreter, feigning that he was utterly ignorant in the Spanish tongue, who in his master's behalf framed his talk to this effect. Sir, quoth he, my master being the only son and heir to his parents, and being left the only pillar of all his parentage, hath ever since the decease of his father been very careful to match himself with such a one in marriage as might content him for her beauty, and be his countenance and credit for her virtue & honesty. Hearing therefore of your daughters singular perfection as well in the one as in the other, he was enforced by an inward affection to come as one very desirous to match himself with so good a mate, offering all his lands in dower as a perfect pledge of his unfeigned good will. jacques had no sooner made an end of his parley, but poor Petronius offered his suit very ruefully. Sir quoth Petronius, as it is a sign of folly to cheap that chaffer for the which there is far more offered than he is able to afford: so the beauty, virtue and parentage of your daughter Syluia, the great dowries and large feoffments offered by sundry suitors had daunted my fervent affection, sith being a poor scholar by profession, & yet a Gentleman by birth, far unfit by the means of want to be a wooer, had I not heard that you have given the rains of liberty to your daughter to be mistress of her own choice, neither respecting the defect of want, nor the superfluity of wealth, so your daughter like and love the party. Encouraged with this her free liberty in choice, I am come to offer her neither lands nor Lordships but my silly self, ready in what I may and she please to pleasure her.  
Signior Valasco, having heard and diligently marked the effect of their talk, smiling and marveling at their strange adventure, that three Gentleman so far distant in place and diverse in condition should so fitly meet at one instant, yea and framing their suits all to one effect, returned them this friendly and courteous answer. Gentlemen quoth he, you are not come in more haste, than welcome with a good heart, and for my part I conceive such good liking of you all in general, as I could be content to bestow my daughter upon any of you in particular. For neither thy old age Signor Gradasso, nor your want of learning, Monsieur de vast, nor thy lack of wealth master Petronius, do breed in me any such misliking, but that if it please my daughter to consent, I will willingly condescend: for in her and not in me consisteth your denial. Therefore follow me and I will bring you where every man shall prefer his suit, and have a speedy answer. And with that he carried them to Syluias' chamber, whom they found sitting solitary at her muses. Who espying her father accompanied with these three Gentlemen entertained every one of them so courteously with a kiss, her countenance notwithsting importing such gravity, as they perceived she was neither infected with curiosity, nor devoid of surpassing modesty: which so astonished the passionate hearts of these three patients, that as the dear with the sigh● of a fair apple standeth at gaze, so they were with her beauty & virtue driven into such a maze, the Signor Valasco was fain to break silence in this manner. Syluia quoth he, these three gentlemen enforced by affection, & drawn by the report of thy beauty (as they say) are come from foreign countries to crave thee in marriage, which sith it consisteth not in my power to grant without thy consent, I have brought them to thy Chamber, that both they may speak for themselves, and thou give them such an answer as fancy or affection shall command thee. This Gentleman being old is of great riches to maintain thy estate: the other is as thou seest very fair, but not very wise: the last is learned and wise, but not of any wealth. Now Syluia the choice is in thine own hands, if thou love one of them I shall like him, if thou refuse them all, I am still contented. Syluia yielding most dutiful thanks to her father for his natural affection, returned him soberly this solemn answer.  
Sir quoth she, I now see by experience that dreams are not always vain illusions and fond fantasies, but that sometime they prognosticate & foreshow what afterward shall happen. For julius Caesar a little before he was Monarch of the world dreamt that he had overcome Mars in plain battle. Penelope the night before her long looked for Ulysses came home, saw in her sleep Cupid pricking an Olive branch at her bed's head, and this night last passed I did see in a dream Venus standing in a most brave and delicate garden wherein were but only three trees, the one a very old and withered Oak, yet laden with Acorns, the other a fair and beautiful Cedar tree, and yet the root decayed and rotten, the third a green bay tree flourishing and yielding forth an odoriferous smell, but being barren and without berries. And me thought as I thus stood taking the view of the trees, Venus changed me into a turtle Dove, and bade me build my nest in one of these trees which best pleased my fancy. And as I was ready to yield her an answer, I suddenly awoke, and Venus lost her verdict. To divine of this dream it passeth my skill, but I conjecture the three trees did represent these three Gentlemen, and the Turtle myself: but what either Venus or the building of the nest do signify, it passeth my skill to conjecture. But omitting my dream and the signification thereof till tract of time shall divine it, sith you are Gentlemen of sundry countries and diverse dispositions, and yet all shoot at one mark: let me hear what every one of you can say in commendation of his own estate, and then as Fortune shall favour you, and fancy force me, you shall receive an answer. Syluia had no sooner ended her talk, but the Gentleman began to divine of the dream very devoutly, descanting diversly of the building of the nest, and applying the interpretation to their particular preferment. The Turtle always or most commonly, quoth Gradasso, buildeth on the tall and strong oak, honouring it because it is Arbour iovis, the tree of jupiter, and delighting to build in it by a secret motion of nature, and therefore I have cause if the dream prove true, to count my part the best portion. Nay sir, quoth jacques in his masters behalf, you have least hope & greatest cause to doubt, for the oak was old & withered, & the turtle naturally delighteth in green & flourishing trees, and especially in the tall and beautiful Cedar, and therefore you are exempted. As for the bay tree although it be green, yet Pliny reporteth it is the only tree which the turtle Dove abhorreth, and therefore of these premises I infer this conclusion, that by the divination of this dream my master shall obtain the prize at this turnay. Well masters quoth Petronius, though you thrust me out for a wrangler, and count me as a cipher in algorithm, yet I say, that neither I have occasion to doubt nor you cause to hope. For though by the means of Venus there chanced such a Metamorphosis, yet though her body was transformed, her heart, mind & understanding was not changed, though she were a Turtle in show, yet she was Syluia in sense, not having so base a mind, as either to build her nest in a withered oak, where it were more meet for a miry sow to feed, than so gallant a bird to build, or on a fair Cedar, sith the root was rotten and ready to fall, but would rather make her choice of a fair and flourishing bay tree, which may both profit herself and pleasure her senses. So that if we have part I hope and assure myself mine to be the best. Tush Gentlemen quoth Syluia, fish not before the net, nor make not your accounts without your hosts, least happily your gains be small, and your shot uncertain. But if you please to have my company, leave off all circumstances and go to the matter. Signior Gradasso hearing Syluia to grow so short, began the assault with this March. It is necessary saith Callymachus, for him which will be a perfect lover to have experience in his wooing and constancy in his wedding, lest by want of skill he lose his labour, and his mistress through his inconstancy repent the bargain. For where experience wanteth, there commonly the choice hath an ill chance, and where constancy bears no sway, there the match is always marred. Now these two so commendable qualities are always found in old age, and never seen in young years. The old Buck maketh better choice of his food than the little Fawn, the old Lion chooseth always a better pray than the young whelp, the bird Acanthis in her age buildeth her nest with most discretion, and an old man hath more experience to make a perfect choice, than a young man's skill to gain a happy chance, age directs all his doings by wisdom, and youth doteth upon his own will, age having bought wit with pain and peril, foreseeth dangers and escheweth the same, but youth following wanton wit too wilfully, never preventeth perils while they be passed, nor dreadeth dangers while he be half drowned, yea there is such a difference between an old man and a young stripling, between hoary hairs and flourishing youth, that the one is followed as a friend to others, and the other eschewed as an enemy to himself. The Brachmen & Gymnosophistes made a law that none under the age of forty should marry without the consent of the Senior, least in making their choice without skill, the man in process of time should begin to loath, or the woman not to love. For youth fiereth his fancy with the flame of lust, and old age fixeth his affection with the heat of love. Young years make no account but upon the glittering show of beauty, and hoary hairs respecteth only the perfect substance of virtue. Age seeketh not with subtleties to enchant the mind, nor with sleights to entrap the maid, he weareth not a velvet scabbard and a rusty blade, nor a golden Bell with a leaden clapper, he frameth not his affection in the forge of flattery, nor draweth not a false colour with the Pencil of dissimulation: he doth not coin his passions with a counterfeit stamp, nor feign his love with a coloured lie, he beareth not honey in his mouth & gall in his heart, he hath not an Olive branch in his bosom and a sword at his back, he carrieth not bread in his hand and a dagger in his sleeve, but if he fancy 'tis with faith, and if he tell his tale it is tempered with truth, which shineth in a lover as a polished gem set in most glistering gold. So that old men are oft envied for their virtue, and young men pitied for their vice. The herb Carisnum being newly sprung up hath a most sour juice, but being come to his groweth a most delicate sap. The old Fir hath the sweetest smell, the aged Panther the purest breath, and the oldest man the most perfect conditions: so that as it is natural for the Palm tree to be strait, for the Coral to be red, for the Tiger to be fierce, for the Serpent to be subtle, and the Camel to have a crooked back, so is it proper to old men to be endued with virtue, and young men imbrued with vice, for hoary age to be entangled with love, and stayless youth to be entrapped with lust, that as the bravest Sepulchre cannot make the dead carcase to smell sweet, nor the most delicate ienimes make a deformed face fair, so the richest attire or most costly apparel cannot make a young mind savour of virtue. The old Pine tree is more esteemed for the profit, than the flourishing buds of the trees in the isle of Colchos for their poison, the old Serpent's Serapie are of greater account for their virtuous skin, than the young and glistering efts for their envenomed hides. Age is always more esteemed for his stayed mind than youth for his stayless mood. That flourishing and beautiful dame Rodophe which married old Sampniticus the King of Memphis, was wont to say that she had rather be an old man's darling than a young man's drudge, that she had rather content herself with an old man in pleasure, than feed her fancy with a young man in penury, that she had rather be loved of an old man ever, than liked of a young man for a while. The mind of a young man is momentary, his fancy fading, his affection fickle, his love uncertain, and his liking as light as the wind, his fancy fired with every new face, and his mind moved with a thousand sundry motions, loathing that which o'late he did love, & liking that for which his longing mind doth lust, frying at the first, and frizing at the last, not sooner inflamed than quickly cold, as little permanent as violent, and like the melting wax which receiveth every impression, where as age is constant like to the emerald, which having received a form never taketh other stamp without cracking. The mind of an old man is not mutable, his fancy fixed, and his affection not fleeting, he chooseth not intending to change, nor changeth not till death maketh the challenge. The old Oak never falleth but by the carpenters axe, nor the affection of age but by the dint of death. The old Cedar tree is less shaken with wind than the young Bramble, and age far more stayed than youth, yea though an old man be withered in age, yet he flourisheth in affection, though he want the beauty of body, yet he hath the bounty of the mind, though age had diminished his colour, yet it hath augmented his virtue, though youth excelleth in strength, yet age surpasseth in steadfastness, so that I conclude by how much the more the virtues of the mind are to be preferred before the beauty of the body, by so much the more ought an old lover to be preferred before a young lecher. You have heard Syluia what I have said, and you know I have spoken nothing but truth. If then it please you to think well of my part and accept of my person, to requite my loyal love with lawful liking, and my fixed fancy with fervent affection: assure yourself you shall have Signior Gradasso so at your command, as you in every respect can wish, and in the pledge of this my good will I will make your feoffment a thousand Crowns of yearly revenues. Signior Gradasso had no sooner ended, but jacques in his masters behalf framed his talk to this effect. There is nothing quoth he, which among mortal creatures is more detested than deformity, nor nothing more embraced than beauty, which above all the gifts both of Nature and Fortune doth make us most resemble the gods. So that where the body is adorned with beauty and perfection of nature, there it seemeth the gods show most favour and affection, sith that they took such care in carving a piece of so curious perfection. Insomuch that they say when the gods made beauty, they skipped beyond their skill, in that the maker is subject to the thing made, for what made Thetis be inconstant but beauty, what forced Venus to be in love with Anchises but beauty? what caused Luna to like Endymion but beauty? yea, it is said to be of so great force, that it bewitcheth the wise, and inchaunteth them that made it. There is none so addicted to chastity whom beauty hath not changed, none so vowed to virginity whom beauty hath not charmed, none so severe whom beauty hath not besotted, nor none so senseless whom the name of beauty can not either break or bend. Love cometh in at the eye not at the ears, by seeing natures works not by hearing sugared words, and fancy is fed by the fairness of the face not by the fineness of the speech. Beauty is the Siren which will draw the most adamant heart by force, and such a charm as have constrained even the vestal virgins to forsake their celles, yea it so inveigleth the sight and bewitcheth the senses, it so troubleth the mind and disturbeth the brain, yea it bringeth such extreme delight to the heart, so that as the Viper being tied to a beech tree, falleth into a slumber, so diverse beholding beautiful persons have stood as though with Medusa's head they had been turned to a stone. Anacharsis being demanded what he thought was the greatest gift that ever the Gods bestowed upon man, answered beauty, for that it both delighteth the eye, contenteth the mind, and winneth good will and favour of all men. Pigmaleon for beauty loved the Image of ivory, and Apelles the counterfeit which he coloured with his own skill, & the picture Ganimides' greatly astonished the Ladies of Cypress. What made Aeneas so beloved of the Carthaginians but beauty? what gained Theseus the good will of Ariadne but beauty? what won Demophoon the love of Phillis but beauty? and what forced the Syluein Nymph Oenone to leave the lawns but the incomparable beauty of Paris? The Gentlewoman which hath a husband that is endued with beauty & adorned with the gifts of Nature, shall have ever wherewith to be satisfied, and never whereof to mislike: whereas contrary the deformed man is such a monster in nature, and such a sorrow to a woman's heart, as she bewails her chance to have chosen one that every one doth loath. The foulest Serpent is ever most venomous, the tree with a withered rind hath never a sugared sap, the dirty puddle hath never good fish, and a deformed body seldom a reformed mind. The wise Lapidaries say that the precious stone with the most glistering hue hath always the most secret virtue. The pure gold is chose by the perfect colour, the best fruit, by the bravest blossoms, and the best conditions by the sweetest countenance. But perhaps mistress Syluia you will say his fair face inflameth my fancy and his beauty bewitched my senses, his shape in deed doth persuade me to requite his good will with mutual affection, but then his folly again quaileth my stomach and is a cooling card to quench the fire of fancy, to which I answer Syluia, that his folly is not so prejudicial as profitable, not so much hurtful as commodious. Aspasia the lover of Socrates, being demanded what thing a woman in the world chief desired, answered to rule, thinking that sovereignty was the thing that women most desire, and men most fear to grant them. If then it be a woman's wish to have her own will, and as the common proverb saith, to rule the roast after her own diet, you shall in taking my master to your mate, have so much your hearts ease as either you can desire or imagine. For my master will wholly be led by your line, and you shallbe the star, by whose aspect he will direct his course, your yea shallbe his yea, and your nay his denial. Thus although his folly be prejudicial in one respect, it shallbe most profitable in another, so that his incomparable beauty shall sufficiently delight your fancy, and his folly be a means that without restraint you may enjoy free will and liberty. Thus mistress Sylva, you have heard what I in my masters behalf can allege. If therefore you mean to repay his good will with love, he promiseth not only to make you sole mistress of his heart, but of all his lands and lordships. jacques having finished this tale, master Petronius as one betwixt fear & hope gave the Fort the sorest assault with this Alarm. Plato the wise and grave Philosopher was wont to say, that as man differeth from brute beasts in reason, so one man excelleth another by wisdom and learning: esteeming him that wanted knowledge, science, and nurture, but the shape of a man though never so well beautified with the gifts of nature, supposing that although he were endued with the outward shadow of beauty, as justly he might compare with Paris: or so stored with treasure and riches, as he might cast his counts with Croesus: yet if he wanted learning to enlarge his beauty, or wisdom to direct his wealth, he was to be counted no other but a beautiful picture burnished with gold. He that enjoyeth wealth without wisdom, sayeth Anaxagoras, possesseth care for himself, envy for his neighbours, spurs for his enemies, a pray for thieves, travail for his person, anguish for his spirit, a scruple for his conscience, peril for his love, sorrow for his children, and a curse for his heirs, because although he knows how to gather, he wanteth skill to dispose. Alexander the Great made so great account of knowledge and wisdom, that he was oft wont to say, he was more bound to Aristotle for giving him learning, than to his father Philip for his life, sith the one was momentary, and the other never to be blotted out with oblivion. Nestor was more honoured and esteemed for his learning and wisdom at the siege of Troy, than either Achilles for his strength, Ajax for his valour, or Agamemnon for his stout courage. Circe's was not enamoured with the beauty of Ulysses but entangled with his wisdom. Aeneas when as Dido sat in Parliament, told his tale with such wit and discretion, so seasoned with the salt of learning, and sweet sap of science, that not only she was snared in his love, but also said, surely thou art come of the offspring of the Gods, alluding to this saying of Empedocles, that as we in nothing more differ from the Gods than when we are fools, so in no thing we do come near them so much as when we are wise. Socrates' thanked the Gods only for three things, first, that they made him a man and not a woman, that he was borne a Grecian and not a Barbarian, thirdly, that he was a Philosopher and not unlearned, esteeming the gifts of nature and fortune of no value unless they be beautified with the gifts of the mind. Bias the Philosopher being reproved by a certain injurious person that he was poor and ill-favoured, answered that he was greatly deceived both in his beauty and his riches, for quoth he, how can I be poor when I am wise, hard favoured when I am learned, thinking it the chiefest beauty to be endued with learning, & the greatest treasure to be enriched with wisdom? The Philosopher Critolaus being very deformed, as having a crooked back and very poor as begging with a staff & a wallet, was notwithstanding so well beloved of a certain Gentlewoman of great wealth and worshipful parentage, as she would willingle have accepted him for her husband, which Critolaus perceiving, laid down his staff and his wallet, and put off his cloak, the more to show his crooked back, wishing her with more diligence to mark his deformed shoulders, to whom she answered, O Critolaus, thy deformity cannot quench that which thy wisdom and learning hath set on fire. It is learning in deed which allureth when every word shall have his weight, when nothing shall proceed but either it shall savour of a sharp conceit or a secret conclusion. It is wisdom that flourisheth when beauty fadeth, that waxeth young when age approacheth, resembling the sea hulver leaf, which although it be dead still continueth green. Beauty withereth with age, and is impaired with sickness, be the face never so beautiful, the least scar or mole maketh it most deformed, but learning and knowledge by tract of time increaseth like to the Cygnets which being young are very black, but in their age most perfectly white: like the birds that build in the rocks of the Sea, whose feathers grow most glistering in their age. As for riches it is momentary, subject to the chance of inconstant fortune, it may be consumed with fire, spent with folly, wasted with riot, and stolen away by thieves: but wisdom is a treasure so certain as no mishap can diminish, neither be impaired by any sinister frown of fortune. Artemisia the Queen being demanded by a certain gentlewoman, what choice she should use in love, marry, quoth she, imitate the good Lapidaries, who measure not the value of the stone by the outward hue, but by the secret virtue: so choose not a husband for the shape of the body, but for the qualities of his mind, not for his outward perfectness, but for his inward perfection. For if thou like one that hath nothing but a little beauty, thou shalt seem to be in love with the counterfeit of Ganymedes, and if thou fancy only riches, thou choosest a wooden picture with a golden coat. Learning is the gem which so decketh a man, and wisdom the jewel which so adorneth the mind, that she which chooseth a wise man to her mate, though never so poor, saith Themistocles, maketh a good match. Thus mistress Syluia you have heard my opinion, though not so wisely as I would, yet as learnedly as I could, not daring to be too bold, lest in wading too far in an unknown ford I suddenly slip over my shoes. Lands I have none, to offer you large feoffments, nor livings to assign you a great dowry: but if it please you to accept of a poor gentleman, I shall be bound by det & duty to be yours for ever. Syluia having given attentive heed to these three gentlemen, as one of a very quick wit and sharp conceit, returned them these answers. Signior Gradasso, quoth she, it was a law among the Caspians, that he which married after he had passed fifty years should at the common assemblies and feasts sit in the lowest and vilest place as one that had committed a fact repugnant to the law of Nature, calling him which was well strooken in years, & yet enamoured, that would fry in affection when he was wholly frozen in complexion, not an old lover, but a filthy fool, and a doting old lecher, and in my judgement they had great reason so to term him. For old rotten straws, are more fit for dung than for the chamber, withered flowers to be cast away, than to be placed in a brave nosegay, old sticks more meet for the fire than for sumptuous building, and aged men are more fit for the grave than to spend their time in love. Cupid, Signior Gradasso, alloweth none in his court but young men that can serve, fresh and beautiful to delight, wise that can talk, secret to keep silence, faithful to gratify, and valiant to revenge his mistress injuries. He that is not endued & privileged with these conditions, may well love but never be liked. How can a young woman fix her affection upon an old man, who in the night time in steed of talk telleth the clock, crieth out of the gout, complaineth of the sciatica, is cumbered with cramps, and troubled with the cough, having neither health to joy himself, nor youth to enjoy her. To the end that love be fixed sure, perpetual and true, there must be equality between the enamoured. For if the lover be old and she be young, he overgrown with age, and she in flourishing youth, assure yourself that of feigned lovers they shallbe ever professed and unfeigned enemies. For it is not love but sorrow, not mirth but displeasure, not taste but torment, not delight but despite, not joy but annoy, not recreation but confusion, when in the lover there is not both youth and liberty: yea, & the withered straw is soon set on fire and easily quenched, the old and dry wood easily inflamed and quickly put out, age soon doteth and soon detesteth, now swimming in love and presently sinking in hate like to the stone Draconites, that no sooner cometh out of the flame but it is vehemently cold. What a foolish motion, nay what a frantic madness is it for him whom nature denieth any longer to live to entangle himself in the snares of love whose natural heat is turned to frost, with the match of fancy to kindle a new fire when sickness summons him and age warns him that death draweth nigh, than to become a client unto Cupid, to plead for bounty at the cruel bar of beauty, knowing that the herb Adiaton cannot abide to touch the withered grass, that the trees in the mount Vernese detest to be clasped of the old ivy, and that youth greatly abhorreth to be coupled with age. Further whosoever being young, fair and beautiful, matcheth her with a doting old lover be she as chaste as Lucretia, as trusty as Penelope, as honest as Turia, as faithful as Artemisia, as constant as Cornelia, yet her honour, honesty and good name shall not only be suspended but greatly suspected: yea, in so much that the old man himself to keep his doting wits warm, will cover his head with a jealous cap, being very credulous to believe each flying tale, and suspicious evermore to judge the worst. If his young wife be merry she is immodest, if sober, sullen, and thinks of some lover whom she likes best, if pleasant inconstant, if she laugh it is lewdly, if she look it is lightly: yea, he casteth beyond the Moon, & judgeth that which neither she would nor could imagine, restraining her from all liberty & watching as the crafty Cat over the silly Mouse, should I than Gradasso seeing the trap follow the train, spying the hook, swallow the bait, and seeing the mischief, run wholly into misery? No, no, I mean not to be so foolish as the birds of Cholchos, which although they see the nets, yet willingly strike at the stolen, or like the Tortoise which desireth the heat of the Sun that notwithstanding breedeth his destruction, nor so sottish as with free consent to cross myself with perpetual calamity. Sith than Signior Gradasso I count you being so old, not a fit match for my tender youth, I pray you at this time be content to take my nay for an answer. And as for you jacques which have said so well in your master's behalf, I commend you for a faithful servant, though your reasons were to small effect. I confess jacques, that nothing sooner delighteth the eye, contenteth the sense, or allureth the mind of a young maid than beauty: but as the stone Topason is not more loved for the outward hue than hated for the poison which secretly is hid within it, or as the herb Nepenthes is not more liked for the pleasant shape, than loathed for the poisoned sap: so beauty cannot inflame the fancy so much in a month, as ridiculous folly can quench in a moment: nay, as of all things wit soonest setteth the fancy on edge & sharpeneth affection, so folly cooleth desire, and forceth love in the loudest gale to strike sail and be quiet. What joy can that Gentlewoman have, whose husband hath neither modesty to moderate his affection, nor manner to be have himself well in company, who can neither be constant because he is a fool, nor secret sith he is without sense, but as the Dolphin hath nothing to cover his deformity but a few glistering scales, or as the clownish Poet Cherillus had nothing to be praised in his verses but the name of Alexander, so he hath nothing to shadow his folly but a fair face, nor nothing to be commended but a little fading beauty. Whereas you allege that Venus was entangled with the beauty of Anchises, and Luna with the feature of Endymion, & Dido with the brave shape of Aeneas. I answer, that Anchises was neither a fool, Endymion a sot, nor Aeneas witless: for if they had, they might assoon have persuaded old Sylenus to despise the rites of god Bacchus as have procured any of these three to yield to their allurements: sith they knew that beauty in a fool is as a ring of gold in a swine's snout. We read that a Consul in Rome married a daughter of his to a fair fool, because he was endued with great possessions, who was not long married to his wife julia, for so was the Consul's daughter called, but for want of wit and lack of wisdom, he so burned in jealousy and surged in the seas of suspicious folly, that as the poor Gentlewoman was stooping to pull on her shoe, he espying her fair and crystal neck, entered into such a suspicious fury, that presently he thrust her through with his sword, verifying the saying of Castymachus, that a fool deprived of reason is no other but a mad man bereaved of his sense. Whereas you say that sovereignty and rule is the chiefest thing a woman doth desire, and that by marrying a fool I shall have the ready means to attain it, put case I grant the antecedent, yet I deny the consequent, for if I were as greedy to bear sway as Semiramis that craved of her husband Nynus to rule the kingdom three days, or as Cleopatra that coveted only to be master of Marcus Antonius, yet a fool is so obstinate in his senseless opinion, and so perverse to be persuaded, that he will not only deny me the superiority, but he will himself rule the roast though it be to his utter ruin. So that jaques I conclude that your master being somewhat foolish, and I myself none of the wisest, it were no good match: for two fools in one bed are too many. But now master Petronius no longer to feed you with hope I give you this A dio, that although I confess wisdom to be the most precious iem wherewith the mind may be adorned, and learning one of the most famous qualities, wherefore a man may be praised, yet if you were as wise as Solomon, as learned as Aristotle, as skilful as Plato, as sensible as Socrates, as eloquent as Ulysses, Si nihil attuleris ibis Homere foras, for wit doth not more fry than want can freeze, nor wisdom heateth not so sore as poverty cooleth, & rather had I in wealth content myself with folly, than wedding myself to a poor wise man pine in poverty. But sith I hope Petronius thou wilt prove like the stone Sandastra which outwardly is rough, but inwardly full of glistering beams, and that thou wilt try thyself so good a husband as thy vow, learning, and wisdom promiseth, I will not only supply thy want with my wealth, and thy poverty with my plenty, but I will repay thy fancy with affection, and thy love with loyalty, hoping that although my friends will count me a fool for making my choice, yet I myself shall never have cause to repent my chance, & in pledge of this my plighted troth, have here my heart and hand for ever at thy command. How Gradasso and Monsieur de vast liked of this verdict I need not relate, nor what their answers were I know not, and if I knew to recount them it availeth not, but I am sure Petronius thought he had made a fortunate journey. Well Signior Valasco hearing the determination of his daughter, was as well contented with the chance as she satisfied with the choice, and ever after made as great account of his son in law Petronius, and liked as well of the match as though she had married the richest Duke in Europe.  
Madam Modesta, I have recounted this history that your doubtful question might be thoroughly debated & fully decided. You see that Silvia who was wise, fair, and virtuous, would not be alured with the golden show of riches because she loathed the person, nor be enchanted with the charm of beauty sith she detested his folly, but choose poor Petronius who might both comfort and counsel her with his wisdom, and be her credit and countenance for his learning. If then your lover be both fair and wise though without wealth, why should you mislike your choice sith you are able to apply to his sore the like salve with Syluia, and of a poor scholar make him a wealthy Gentleman. Choose not Modesta so that thy friends shall like the choice and thou mislike the chance, lest time and trial make thee account Rue a most bitter herb: thus wishing thy love prosperous success howsoever the matter happen, I bid thee heartily farewell.  
Thine to her power contented Mamillia.    

LONDON Printed by Th. C. for William Ponsonbie. 1593.