ΗΠΑΡΘΕΝΟΣ  
By john Cousturier M. D.C.XXX.III.  
P. van Langeren fecit.    

PARTHENEIA SACRA. OR THE MYSTERIOUS AND DELICIOUS GARDEN OF THE SACRED PARTHENES; Symbolically set forth and enriched With PIOUS DEVISES AND EMBLEMS for the entertainment of DEVOUT SOULS; Contrived ALL TO THE HONOUR of the Incomparable Virgin MARRY Mother of GOD; For the pleasure and devotion especially of the PARTHENIAN sodality of her Immaculate CONCEPTION.  
By H. A.  
Printed by JOHN COUSTURIER. M.DC.XXXIII.   

THE ORDER OF THE SYMBOLS contained in this GARDEN.  

1. THE GARDEN.  
2. THE ROSE.  
3. THE LILY.  
4. THE VIOLET.  
5. THE HELIOTROPION.  
6. THE DEW.  
7. THE BEE.  
8. THE HEAVENS.  
9 THE IRIS.  
10. THE MOON.  
11. THE STAR.  
12. THE OLIVE.  
13. THE NIGHTINGALE.  
14. THE PALM.  
15. THE HOUSE.  
16. THE HEN.  
17. THE PEARL.  
18. THE DOVE.  
19 THE FOUNTAIN.  
20. THE MOUNT.  
21. THE SEA..  
22. THE SHIP.   
Whereunto are annexed the PHOENIX, and the SWAN without the Garden.   

THE EPISTLE TO THE PARTHENIAN sodality.  
MY dear PARTHENIANS, When the Saviour of the world had passed the Torrent of Cedron, into the Garden of Gethsemani, there to commence the Tragedy, whose sad Catastrophe he was to finish on Mount Caluarie, he gave to understand, how much (no doubt) he was pleased with Gardens. But then especially, after the Tragic Scene was ended, and that doleful curtain or veil was rend asunder (a token of the period of the jewish Theatre) when all was voided, and he vouchsafed to appear familiarly again to his dearest friends, in the form and habit of a Gardener, he evidently declared his good affection, towards the Garden of their Souls, which then he came to cheer-up and refresh with his Divine presence, & to banish the clouds of heaviness, which so sad a spectacle had cast upon the Garden of their hearts, when as no flowers or functions of their souls could cheerfully yield their lustre, or send forth any special odour of sanctity, so drowned in tears. May it not therefore seem strange unto you, if I, knowing the sympathy of hearts, between the Mother and the Son, the Blessed JESUS, flower of Nazareth, and his sacred Stem, presume here to personate, and make her appear to your views, not in the habit of fashion of a Gardener, which office she rather yealds (as proper) to her Son, but of a Garden, under the veil of Symbols, to deliciate a while with her Devotees, You, dearest Parthenians, yet grieved and groaning with the burden of your pressures, for his sake, who is the curious Gardener indeed, that from the beginning planted the same for himself, from all Eternity. Now than the winter passed of melancholy thoughts, the showers blowne-over and quite vanished, of tears of persecution; I say, laying the memory of them all aside, as storms already past, in conceit at least, you here behold our SACRED PARTHENES, who presents herself for your delights in Garden-attire and cheerfully receive her, with serene brows, in this course and rural array, of herbs and flowers, as if she were clothed with the Sun, crowned with the Stars, and trampling the Moon, as once she was seen by her holy Guardian, the dear Disciple, whom JESUS loved. Nor would I wish you perfunctoriously to view her only, and pass her over with a slender glance of the eye, but to enter into her Garden, which she is herself, and survey it well. Where, to the end you may not err, mistake, or go astray, in ways so new, and strange, and (for aught I know) as yet untraced or trod of any, take here, I pray, for Guide, my proper Genius, well acquainted with all passages of them. And you (O SACRED PARTHENES) I beseech especially, to guide me also, while in your service I take thus upon me to guide the rest.   

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.  
COnsidering, Gentle Reader, how much thou art taken and delighted (as men are wont) with change and variety in all things: I 〈◊〉 here endeavoured to serve thee in this Work, according to thine appetite. Which being not my sole end, but for thy devotion rather, I made Variety the hand maid to Piety, directing all, as you see, thereunto. And though I am a most unworthy Client and Devote to the Immaculate Virgin-Mother of God, I have presumed (as you see) to direct both the one and other, to the honour of that Incomparable Queen of Heaven. Wherein though the instruments I use, may seem profane, so profanely used now adays, as devices consisting of Imprese, and Mottoes, Characters, Essays, Emblems, and Poesies; yet they may be like that Pantheon, once sacred to the feigned Deities, and piously since sanctified, converted, and consecrated to the honour of the glorious Queen, and all the blessed Saints of Heaven. And following the example of the Israelits, warranted by GOD himself, I have borrowed but the silver and golden vessels, of those profane Egyptians, and not the poisonous liquours they caroused in them; to convert them (I say) to a better use, in service of my Lady and Mistress, and for the pleasure and devotion of her especial Family; yea, Gentle Reader, for thy solace too, if thou art pleased to accept of my poor endeavours.   

THE PROEM TO HIS GENIUS ON THE SACRED PARTHENES herself.  
MY GENIUS; If thou needs must praise, extol, and magnify Beauty, Virtue, Honour; and not in the air only of Ideas, or abstract from sense, but in a subject really, subsisting: I say, if thou needs must dignify and eternize a pure creature above the skies, praise then such an one, whose superlative praises, when thou hast said the most, can hardly so exceed, but that her due Eulogies, Encomiums, and Panegyrics, still shall far transcend the faculty of thy tongue, and thou be acquit of the least imputation of flatteries. And if my Genius carry thee (my pen) into dalliances, as it were, to deliciat with thyself, upon thy plumes, in contemplation of that noble Sex, corrival with the Masculine; do not, I prithee, with Isocrates, seek a Helena, that fatal and most deplorable firebrand of the Trojan City, on whom that elegant and terse Sophister poured forth the musks and civets of his venal tongue, the riches of of a wanton and luxuriating wit. Behold SHE is even now at hand, whom worthily thou mayst, and whom thou canst not praise enough, so far from praising her too much; who beside is able well to guerdon and recompense thy praises given her, with heaped and redoubled interest. Behold then our SACRED PARTHENES, Virgin of Virgins, for excellency, is SHE, whom safely thou mayst praise, whom the impatient World for so many Ages, groaning under their pressing burden of their crimes, with vows and prayers had most incessantly begged and importuned. A boon of well-nigh fifty Ages suit, obtained at last with much ado. So great a work it was for Nature, albeit holpen by Grace, to bring forth to Mortals a creature, worthy to be the Mother of God, Lady of the World, and the true Reparatresse of life. Nor do thou frame to thyself here the Mercuries of a counterfeit and Sophisticat candour, coloured cheeks, curled hair, and wreathed knots with inexplicable Meanders. Seek not Vermilion or Ceruse in the face, bracelets of Oriental-pearles on her wrist, Rubie-carknets on the neck, rich pendants in the ears, and a delicious fan of most exquisite feathers in her hand, nor all that magasin of Feminin riches, or richest ornaments of Beauty, enough to belie beauties rather, and destroy them quite, then to afford them, where they are not found; they being nothing else then a precious Scene of fopperies, which they only seek with a curious wastfulness, who will needs be wholly mad with the greatest sumptuousness and cost; whereas surely true Beauty is but one, which even integrity of the mind makes, being the lively colour of God; and was no doubt that, which so much graced our PARTHENES, and set her forth, whom the entire and intemerate comeliness of Virtues hath crowned with such a gloriet on her head, and such splendour and glory in heaven, as in a pure creature nothing may be imagined more magnificent in riches, nor in suavities sweeter. And surely when I think more attentively of her, it seems to me, the highest Architect of All and great GOD, the sole Moderator of all, in creating this one Soul, hath so admirably expressed himself in her, and with his most exquisite fingers, hath bestowed so much art and industry in her delineation, and so pleased himself with the delicate draughts he hath showed in this one image of himself, as if in the shop of human things he would expose her to all, to be imitated. Wherefore when as that Soul, far purer than the Stars, and flowing with so many exquisite ornaments, glided into the Tabernacle of her body, that impure Firebrand was not cast into her, which first was kindled in the Authors of our kind, and flamed forth afterwards far and wide, to the waste and utter ruin of the whole world, but as a Saphyr or purer Adamant, appears and grows up in pure and burnished gold: so a most chaste Soul, by the hands of God disposing so thereof, was put into her inviolable and sanctified body, that no least stain of her stock and progeny might light upon her. Then, after. SHE (that golden issue of her Mother) was borne and brought forth to light, I easily believe, that Nature recreated and refreshed from the daily misery it lay in, even laughed to behold her, supposing the light was newly risen to her, when first she fixed her eyes on her, from whose precious and Virginal womb, was the Fountain of light itself to spring. The Virgin-infant heerupon was nursed-up and trained between chaste walls, in a most holy discipline of Patrial laws, and instructed with those studies of arts, that might address her as a noble Sacrarie of God. Anticipating virtue, she urged and pressed more hard the flower paces of her years, which hardly could endure the long demurs of age, of uhom was Nature ashamed as it were to impose any laws of longer attendance. For even now in her first age, there shined many Dotes in her, as stars in the heavens in a serene night, like sparkling gems fixed in their orbs; since SHE had in her whole life, as you know, a marvellous society of all Virtues, wherewith SHE wove that loom of her age, as with singular and most excellent figures, in whom the absolute consent and harmony of all Virtues have magnificently conspired, that Beauty should not violate Shamefastness; gravity, infringe lowliness; meekness, gravity; Simplicity, Majesty; facility, constancy; lastly (which till then was never heard of) that the name of Mother should be nothing injurious to Virginity. All Virtues strove alike in HER, and all had the victory. Nor yet was SHE destiture of the gifts of Nature likewise, while a certain Divinity of beauty dazzled the aspects of men. 
So Epiphanius very nigh describes her,  The bashful forehead (seat of shamefastness) soft and gently arose; beneath the black and archie brows, shined forth the bright lamps of HER eyes, which how powerfully they pierced and penetrated the heavens, who knows not? The nose most gracefully inflecting, made a handsome kind of pilaster to her forehead; lips somewhat thinner, the receptacle of a meek elocution, and celestial graces; a great affability of speech; a singular modesty of gate; a countenance, graceful without softness or levity, grave without stateliness, set always in a perpetual sereanes, which hardly could admit the least impression of laughter. It were long to prosecute the rest; I shall have said all things, saying, SHE is the MOTHER of GOD. But this dignity when all the tongues, I say not of men only, but even of the Angels themselves, shall proclaim and set forth, do what they can, shall be enforted to cry out: De dilecta nunquam satis.   

THE PLATFORM OF THE GARDEN.  
WHerefore, my GENIUS, I would wish thee, to enter into the large, spacious, and ample GARDEN of our SACRED PARTHENES, and there behold those specious, and most delicious Objects; all, so wholly consecrated to her service, that they seem as borne to express her praises; every one, to help thee out, to accomplish and perform this task so hard to undertake, and impossible to be done so worthily, as SHE deserves. Go, I say; survey her GARDEN, beset with the bashful ROSE, the candid LILY, the purple VIOLET, the goodly HELIOTROPION, sprinkled all with DEWS, which the busy BEE gathers as it falls from the HEAVENS, dressed with an IRIS, as with a silver MOON, instead of a torch, and enamelled with miriads of STARS, as lesser lamps, to afford it light, in the obscurity of the night; enclosed round, and compassed-in with a wall, where on an OLIVE, you may behold the jolly PHILOMELA to perch, chanting her Roundelays; and on the other side, a flourishing and stately PALM; and likewise see a goodly HOUSE of pleasure, standing therein before you; and if you mark it well, you shall discern that domestical and almost inseparable companion thereof, the HEN, there scraping in the dust for food, wherein She finds a precious Margarit or PEARL; and on the top thereof espy an innocent and meek DOVE, as white and candid, as the driven snow; for in this GARDEN are all things pure. Where likewise in a place more eminent and conspicuous than the rest, you may behold a fair and beautiful FOUNTAIN, artificiously contrived with pipes so under ground, as waters all, when need requires. And if, my Genius, all these will not suffice, to make up full thy Choir of Laudes, to magnify thy SACRED PARTHENES, ascend upon that MOUNT before thy face; and with an Opticon discover thence, the Ocean SEA, and invite it likewise with the rest, to bear a part; and for a fuller compliment of all, wave but a little banner to some SHIP or other, to comein with all her fraught of magnificent praises. For all within ken or view of that same MOUNT, are subjects and dear Devotees of our Sacred and Incomparable PARTHENES.  
But soft, my Genius; ere thou lead thy Reader into the Maze or Labyrinth of the beauties therein contained, pause here a while, to consider how to behave thyself, before (I say) thou let him in, to speculate that Magazine of beauties; which being so mysterious and delicious an Object, requires not to be rashly looked upon, or perfunctoriously to be slighted over, but, as the manner is of such as enter into a Garden, to glance at first thereon with a light regard, then to reflect upon it with a better heed, to find some gentle mystery or conceit upon it, to some use or other; and then liking it better, to review the same again, and so to make a Survey thereupon to the same use. This would I have thee punctually observe in all, to guide thy Reader with, in this present GARDEN of our sacred PARTHENES. First then shalt thou present him with the Symbol itself, setforth in manner of a device, with an Impreze and Motto, expressing the allusion to the SACRED PARTHENES herself, in some mystery of hers, or attribute belonging to her. Then shalt thou take the Impreze being the Symbol by itself, and dally as it were with some natural and apt Character upon it; being no more, then certain superficial Glances, deciphering it in some sort, but lightly only, for a first entertainment of thy Reader. Then with Morals, on the Motto, shalt thou but touch or reflect upon the Paragon herself for the present, and no more. Then looking back with a fresh review on the Symbol itself, by way of an Essay, shalt thou make a fuller Survey thereof, discoursing on the Paragon herself, to match compare, and parallel them together, to find out some Eulogies or other, in praise of our SACRED PARTHENES. Thence to satisfy the Eye as well as the Understanding, for his greater delight, thou shalt pause a while, to lead him to behold, as in a Tapestry, the Symbol turned into an Emblem, piously composed; where for the clearer understanding thereof, the same shall be indicatively expressed in a Poesy, made for the purpose. Then shalt thou make him sit down a while, to ponder, consider, and contemplate some things beside, conducing to the further discovery of the hidden mystery, contained in the Symbol itself, to the honour of our SACRED PARTHENES, as certain Speculations or Theories thereon. And after all, shalt thou invite him to Apostrophize with the Paragon PARTHENES herself, under the Symbol so handled, being the utmost scope, and full fruition of the whole; and so conclude the piece with some boon or suit, correspondent to the present occasion, in every one. And this method would I have thee keep in al. Now then, being thus admonished, I licence, and freely give thee leave, to lead thy Reader first into her private Garden (for Princes, you must know, and great Ladies too, besides their public, have some private Garden of their own) where, though enclosed, yet with the wings of Contemplation, may he secretly view, reflect, review, survey, delight, contemplate, and enjoy the hidden and sublime perfections therein, and lastly obtain, no doubt, any reasonable suit at the hands of the SACRED PARTHENES in respect thereof, for his reward.   

THE I. SYMBOL. THE GARDEN.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE GARDEN is a goodly Amphitheatre of flowers, 
The Impres●●●.  upon whose leaves, delicious beauties stand, as on a stage, to be gazed on; and to play their parts, not to see so much; as to be seen; and like Wantoness to allure with their looks, or enchant with their words, the civets and perfumes they wear about them. It is even the pride of Nature, her best array, which she puts on, to entertain the Spring withal. It is the rich Magazine or Burse of the best perfumes or Roman wash: A poesy of more worth, than a bal of pomander, to make one grateful where he comes; the one being sweetly sweet, the other importunely. It is a Monopoly of all the pleasures and delights that are on earth, amassed together, to make a dearth thereof elsewhere, and to set what price they list upon them? It is the precious Cabinet of flowery gems, or gems of flowers: The shop of Simples in their element, delighting rather to live delicious in themselves at home, where they are bred, then changing their conditions, to become restoratives to others; or to dye to their beauties, to satisfy the covetous humour of every Apothecary, to enrich himself with their spoils. It is the Palace of Flora's pomps, where is the wardrobe of her richest mantles, powdered with stars of flowers, and all embroadred with flowery stones. It is the laughter and smile of Nature: Her lapful of flowers, and the Garland she is crowned with in triumphs. It is a Paradise of pleasures, whose open walks are Tarrases, the Close, the Galleries, the Arbours, the Pavilions, the flowery Banks, the easy and soft Couches. it is, in a word, a world of sweets, that live in a fair Community together, where is no envy of another's happiness, or contempt of others poverty; while every flower is contented with its own estate; nor would the Daisy wish to be a Rose, nor yet the Rose contemns the meanest flower.   

THE MORALS.  SACER PRINCIPI. 
IT is a Maxim in all Arts: There is no rule without exception. 
The Mor●.  And Sanctuaries, we know, in all good Christian Commonwealths have been ever allowed of. Who is he so rude; that dares lay hands upon the vessels marked with the Prince's Arms? Or who presumes to disannul or cancel his Privy or Broad Seals? The Prince's closet is shut to all, but to the Prince himself. His Signet is a Key, that opens all the posterns of his Court. There is no Prince, who, besides his common treasure, hath not a private casket of his own. When the world was drowned, there was an Ark, that safely floated on the Main; nor all the Cataracts of Heaven, were able to overwhelm it. The jews indeed had their Cities of Refuge, and the King of jews no less his sanctified City. It was a great Praculum to violate the immunities of those; What think you then of his private City? Hath he a City for himself, and not a Garden private to himself? Doubtless he hath. He hath then a private Garden of his own; and keeps the keys himself. Long live the Prince then, to enjoy his Garden; 
Capit comme de●●us:  and cursed be he; that shall but with the mouth or hart seem to violate the sacred closures of his Garden. Quia PRINCIPI SACER.   

THE ESSAY.  
I will not take upon me to tell all; for so of a Garden of flowers, 
The Review.  should I make a Labyrinth of discourse, and should never be able to get forth. Cast but your eyes a little on those goodly Allies, as sowed all over with sands of gold, drawne-forth so straight by a line. Those Crossbows there (be not afraid of them) they are but Crossbows made of Bays; and the Harquebusiers, wrought in Rosemary, shoot but flowers, and dart forth musk. Those Beasts likewise, horrible there and dreadful to see to, are but in jest; all that menace they make, is but a show only. All those armed Men with greenish weapons, and those Beasts all clad in skins of green, are but of Prim, Isop, and Time, all herbs very apt to historify withal. I will quite pass over those little Groves, Thickets, and Arbours, and speak nothing of those Pety-canons there and Choristers, chanting their Complines in the Evening, and Nocturnes in the Night, mingling their pretty Mottets, which Nature learns them, of their own accord. Nor will I here speak a word of those Water-works, Conduits, and Aquaducts, which yet might you hear to make a gentle murmur throughout, affording an apt Base for the birds to descant on. I hast me to the Flowers only most proper to our GARDEN here. Behold, I pray, those Bushes, all enamelled with ROSES of so many sorts; these here apparelled with the white of Innocence; those there with a scarlet tincture; one well-nigh withered embalmes the air with its perfume, and makes a show with its golden threads, and all its treasure; that other is yet in its folds, and dares not hazard so much as to peep forth; this here puts forth the bud, and now half-open smiles withal, and shows forth a glimpse of its purple, through a cliff of the green Case, wherein it is; which the thievish birds would soon come to steal away, were it not for the Garrison of thorns, that serves for a Corps-de-guard to that Queen of flowers. Behold there the Lilies of ten sorts; some yet hidden in their green cups; others half borne; and the rest newly disclosed. What think you? are they not exceeding fair? You would say, they were of white Satin, streaked without, and all embroadered within with gold; you can hardly tell, whether they be milk condensed into leaves, or figured snow, or silver flower-de-lised, or a star all musked. Those yellow ones, would you not verily think them to be golden bells? and that red one, a little purse of crimson-satin? and those others, some goodly vessels of Emeralds, or the like? But mark a while; see you not those beds strewed with a thousand Violets? some yellow, some purple, some white, some speckled, and some party-couloured, some Carnashion, and some changeable. Behold those fair and beautiful Tulips there; those rich Amaranths, cerulean Hyacinths, Pansies, the gems of the goodly IRIS; the scarlet Gillyflower, the Pinks, the Marygolds, and a thousand other flowers. O what a Paradise of flowers is this! What a Heaven of musky stars, or Celestial Earth all starred with flowers, empearled with gems and precious stones! A land of promise, full of milk and honey! Behold, I say, the ROSE, dedicated (they say) to that little elf Cupid; whose threads are as golden hairs; whose thorns in steed of arrows; whose fire, a flash of lustre; and whose leaves are wings; few can touch it, without touch of love unto it; and it costs them dear, who meddle with it. The LILY hangs the head down; for modesty, I suppose; though it can not blush, for having nothing to blush at; her flower being all so white and without spot. They say, She was borne of the milk of juno; howsoever she is called the Royal flower, the Rose of juno. Note there the humility of the VIOLET, how like to the strawberry she keeps by the ground, hiding, what she can, her beauty in her leaves, but is discovered whether she will or no; partly by the flashes of her lustre, breaking forth unawares between the leaves, not so reserved as they ought; and partly with the odour she can not choose but send forth. The Tulip is a singular ornament to this Garden; look and observe it well. How were it possible, one would think, so thin a leaf, bred and nourished in the same air, and proceeding from the same stem, should be golden in the bottom, violet without, saffron within, bordered on the edge with fine gold, and the prickle of the point blew as a goodly Saphir? and a hundred others of several fashions, as if they had striven to dress themselves to put the eyes into pain, not knowing where to bestow themselves. There again, may you note another, not unlike to a Columbin, very gracious to see to, enamelled with drops of gold, and a thousand other the like varieties; so as of necessity we must needs confess, that GOD is very admirable in his works, since on so poor a thing, as a slender stalk, grow such a number of excellent varieties. And now I address myself to Thee, the Sovereign and Mystical GARDEN itself, the Paragon of Gardens.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
I Speak not here of the Covent-garden, the garden of the Temple, 
The Survey.  nor that of the Charter-house, or of Grays-inn Walks, to be had and enjoyed at home; nor of the Garden of Milan, or of Mountpelier, so illustrious for Simples, I speak not of the Garden of Hesperides, where grew the golden Apples, nor yet of Tempe, or the Elysian fields. I speak not of Eden, the Earthly Paradise, nor of the Garden of Gethsemany, watered with Blood flowing from our saviour's precious body: But I speak of Thee, that GARDEN so known by the name of HORTUS CONCLUSUS; wherein are all things mysteriously and spiritually to be found, which even beautifyes the fairest Gardens: being a place, no less delicious in winter, then in Summer, in Autumn, then in the Spring; and wherein is no season to be seen, but a perpetual Spring; where are all kinds of delights in great abundance, that can possibly be devised; where are fair and goodly Allies, straight and even, strewed all with sands, that is, a straight, virtuous, and Angelical life, yet strewed with the sands and dust of her proper Humility; where are Arbours to shadow her from the heats of concupiscence; flowery Beds to repose in, with heavenly Contemplations; Mounts to ascend to, with the study of Perfections: where are herbs, and Simples, sovereign medicines of all spiritual maladies, where (I say) are the Flowers of all Virtues: The LILY of spotless and immaculate Chastity, the ROSE of Shamefastness and bashful Modesty, the VIOLET of Humility, the Gillyflower ol Patience, the S of Charity, the Hyacinth of Hope, the SUN-FLOWER of Contemplation, the Tulip of Beauty and gracefulness. In this GARDEN ENCLOSED are certain risings to be seen of Hills in elevations of mind, and Valleys again in depressions and demissions of the same mind, through annihilation; here likewise are Vines of spiritual gladness, and Groves of a retired solitude, to be found. Here whole Quires of Angels are accustomed to to sing their Alleluyas, at all hours, in lieu of the Phil●mels in the silence of the Night; in steed of the Larks, at the hour of Prime; in place of the Thrush, the Linnet, and Canarie-bird, at all Hours. Here spring the limpid fountains of all Graces; whence stream the little rils and brooks watering the Paradise on all sides, and thence abundantly flowing to the rest of Mortals. Here are Pools for the harmless fry of her innocent thoughts, like fishes here and there to pass up and down in the heavenly Element of her mind; here and there certain labyrinths form in the herbs of Her endless perfections. Here lastly are statues of Her rare examples to be seen, Obelisks, Pyramids, Triumphal Arches, Aquaducts, Thermes, Pillars of Eternal Memory, erected to Her glory, in contemplation of her Admirable, Angelical, and Divine life.  
But that which sets forth and adorns this incomparable and mysterious GARDEN most, is the special Privilege and Prerogative it hath, not only over all the Gardens of the world beside, but even also of the Terrestrial Paradise itself; for that the Garden of Eden, or Terrestrial Paradise, was not so exempt from Sin, but the place where Sin began; and was not so free from the Serpent, but that he could get-in and work the mischief; so as for avoiding more enfuing dangers, it was necessary to place at the gates thereof for ever after, an Angel-Porter of the Order of the Cherubins, with a fiery and two-edged sword, to guard the same. Whereas this GARDEN (our LADY) was a GARDEN shutup indeed from the beginning, and divinely preserved Immaculate, from Her first Conception, adorned with all those sorts of flowers and plants of Graces, Virtues, and Perfections I mentioned above; whereto no Serpent, nor Original sin, much less Actual, could have acces, but was always even from her first beginning, a most delicious Paradise and GARDEN shutup from all invasions of Enemies.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
THe Virgin was a Garden round beset  
With Rose, and Lily, and sweet Violet.  
Where fragrant Sentsses, without distaste of Sin,  
Inuite● GOD the Son to enter in.  
But it was closed: 
* Alma signify Enclosed & a Virgin shut up in Hebrew.  Alma's shut up, we know,  
What Gardener then might enter in to sow?  
Or plant within this Eden? Or, what birth  
Might be expected from a virgin-earth?  
The Holie-Spirit, like a subtle wind,  
Peercing through all, only a way could find.  
As th' Earth brought forth at first, how't is not known:  
So did this Garden, which was never sown.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, how our Lord GOD had planted a Paradise of delights, that is, the Virgin MARIE, 
The Contemplation.  from the beginning, to wit, in the East; wherein he placed Man, whom he had framed, because indeed he put CHRIST in her womb, through the operation of the holy-ghost. Which place in truth is very pleasant; because whatsoever is delightful in a Garden, was abundantly found in Her: there being the Cedar of high Contemplation, the Cypress of odoriferous fame and sanctity of life, the Laurel of Constancy, the Palm of glorious Victory, the Mulberry of Patience, the Myrtle of Mortification, the Olive of Mercy, the Almond of Fruitfulness, the Figtree of deliciousness, the Planetree of Faith; for the Plane hath leaves like to our Escutcheons, or Targets, and therefore signifieth Faith; for that Faith is a Target against the temptations of the Devil; But especially the Tree of Life, whereof S. Augustin saith thus: The Virgin MARIE is said to be a Paradise, in the midst whereof is the Tree of Life, with whose leaves the sick are cured, whose odour revives the, dead, whose taste sweetens the bitter, whose shadow refreshes the wretched, and whose aspect rejoiceth the Angels.  
Consider then the amenity and pleasure of this GARDEN of our Lady. For there were Pomgranats, that is, an ordination of Virtues, and a wonderful sweetness of Devotion; for lo, Pomgranats have their grains disposed in an admirable order, and are indeed most delicious fruits; to which kind of Apples the Spouse invites her Spouse, saying: Let my beloved come into his Garden, and eat the fruit of his apples. There likewise was the Cypress with Nara, that is odoriferous fame and profound humility; because the Cypress is an odoriferous tree, and the Nard a most humble herb. There was Nard and Saffron, to wit, fervent Charity, and Humility of Celestial Contemplation; because the Nard is a hot herb; and Saffron hath a golden colour. There were Canes and Cinnamon, withal the trees of Libanus; because in her was a singular purity of Conscience, an excellent odour of good Fame, and incorruptibility of the flesh. For the Cane hath its virtue in the pith; the Cinnamon hath its odour in the bark; and the wood of Libanus is incorruptible: And lastly was there both Myrrh and Aloes, with all the prime Unguents; because in Her was bitterness of tribulation for her son's passion, the bitterness of compassion for the affliction of the miserable; and the sweetness of devotion was in Her mind. For Myrrh and Aloes are bitter; and the Unguents sweet and delicious.  
Ponder lastly these words of the Canticles: 
Cant. 4.  Come Southern wind, and blow upon my garden, and the spices shall flow forth. Where by the Southern wind is understood the breath of the holy-ghost. For the Southwind is a hot, humid, and fruitful wind; which even blew in the Virginal Garden of our LADY, for that it made her hot through Charity, humid through Piety, and fruitful through plenty of good works: and so flowed She with odoriferous Spices, whose odour as balm did recreate GOD; and like Cinnamon comforted the whole world: because Cinnamon comforts the stomach; and like unto Myrrh did drive away Devils; for that indeed the smell of Myrrh expels the worms.   

THE APOSTROPHE  
SHALL be made to the INCOMPARABLE VIRGIN, 
The Colloquy.  as to the Abstract of perfections, in this or the like manner: O most Sovereign Princess, Lady of Paradise, yea a Paradise itself of all perfections: Most pure Virgin, most chaste Spirit, Virgin full of grace, Mirror of purity, Pattern of sanctity, Sun of chastity, Model of innocence, Image of virtue, Example of perfection, Vessel of singular piety, Mother and Mistress of Christian Religion, blessed Band, delicious Garden, the Devotion of the whole world: Be all Virtues, O my dear Advocate, afforded me. O Lady, Sovereign creature among the pure; obtain them for me, I beseech thee from the bottom of my hart, through the sweetnesses of thy immaculate Conception, and thy blessed childbirth; through the sweet nourishment of the precious milk, given to thy Son, GOD and MAN, the King of Kings; by those sacred and divine kisses, which thou so reverently gavest him in his tender infancy. O grant me those flowers of thy delicious Garden, I beseech thee; and after all, to behold Thee triumphant in the Celestial Paradise.    

THE II. SYMBOL. THE ROSE.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE ROSE is the Imperial Queen of Flowers, 
The Impresa.  which all do homage to, as to their Princess, She being the glory and delight of that Monarchy. She is herself a Treasury of all Sweets, a Cabinet of Musks, which She commends to none to keep, but holds them folded in her leaves; as knowing well, how little conscience is made of such stealths. If any have a will to seek Diamonds among flowers, he may seek long enough ere he find them; but if a Ruby he seeks for, the ROSE is a precious Ruby. It is the Darling of the Garden-Nimphs, and the cause sometimes perhaps of much debate between them, while each one strives to have it proper to herself, being made for all, and is verily enough for al. It is the Palace of the flowery Numen, environed round with a Court-of-Guard about her, that stand in a readiness with javelins in hand, and the Qui va la in the mouth, with whom is but a word and a blow, or rather whose words are blows, that fetch the blood. It is the Metropolis of the Graces, where they hold their Commonwealth, and where the Senate of all odoriferous Spices keep their Court. It is the chiefest grace of Spouses on their Nuptial days, and the Bride will as soon forget her fillet as her Rose. It is the masterpiece of Nature in her garden-works, and even a very spell to Artisans to frame the like; for though perhaps they may delude the eye, yet by no means can they counterfeit the odour, the life, and spirit of the Rose. When Flora is disposed to deliciate with her minions, the Rose is her Adonis, bleeding in her lap; the Rose her Ganymede, presenting her cups full of the Nectar of her sweets. It is even the Confectionarie-box of the daintiest Conserves, which Nature hath to cherish-up herself with, when she languisheth in Autumn. The Cellarie of the sweetest lickours, either wine or water; her wines being Nectar's, and her waters no less precious than they, whose dried leaves are the empty bottles. In a word, the Rose for beauty is a Rose, for sweetness a Rose, and for all the graces possible in flowers, a very Rose; the quintessence of beauty, sweets, and graces, all at once, and all as epitomised in the name of ROSE.   

THE MORALS.  CASTO PERFUSA RUBORE. 
IT is a common Saying: The honest Bridegroom, 
The Motto.  and the bashful Bride. For so when Rebecca first was brought to the youthful Isaac, as a Spouse, she put her scar for veil before her eyes. So Rachel did, and many others. Lucretia the chaste chose rather to wallow in her blood, then to survive her shame, wherein she blushed indeed, but yet without cause; for yet still she remains in all men's mouths, the chaste Lucretia. The hart and cheeks have their intelligences together, and the purest blood is messenger between them. The hart is put into a fright; the obsequious blood comes-in anon, and asks: What ail you, Sir? Go, get you up, and mount to the turret of the cheeks, my only friend, and call for help; the blood obeys, and makes the blush, that raiseth such alarms, intender Virgins most especially. What fears the Virgin, when she blushes so? The wrack of her honour; you will say. How so? Is Honour in the Body, or the Mind? If in the Mind, the Mind is a Citadel impregnable, not subject to violence, nor to be betrayed, but by itself. Then blush not, Virgin, for the matter; thy hold is sure enough, and thou in safety, if thou wilt thyself. But this of all other Virtues, never is safe and secure enough; this of all others fears the very shadows themselves, and trembles like an Aspin-leaf at the least motions. Now looks she pale like a very clout; and now through modesty, the colour mountsses into her cheeks, and there sets-up his ruddy standard, as if the Fort were his; till fear again prevailing, plucks it down And these were the vicissitudes our Sacred VIRGIN had, when her glorious Paranimph discoured his Embassage to her in her secret closet, presenting her a shadow only, seeming opposite to her chaste Vow; where at She trembled in his sight, CASTO PERFUSA RUBORE.   

THE ESSAY.  
BEhold here the Princess of flowers, the Pearl of Roses, 
The Review.  with all its varieties: the Damask Rose, the Musk-Rose: The Red, the Cinnamon, the Carnation, the Province, the White, the Savage Rose (which grows in the Eglantines) and lastly the Golden Rose, fair indeed to behold, but not so sweet. The Rose grows on a speckled thorn, swelling into sharp or pointed buttons somewhat green, which rives by little and little, and opens at last, than unbuttons and discloses its treasure, the Sun unfolds it, and opens the lights and leaves, making it display itself, and take life, so affording it the last draught of beauty to its scarlet; and now having perfumed it, and made the infusion of Rose-water thereinto, in the midst appears, as in a cup, certain golden points, and little threads of Musk or Saffron, sticking in the hart of the Rose. But to speak of the fires of its Carnation, the snow of the white Satin, the fine Emeralds, cut into little tongues round about, to serve as a train to wait upon it; of the Balm and ambergrees, that breathes from this little crop of gold, which is in the midst; of the sharpness of the thorns, that guard it from the little thieves, that would be nibbling it away with their beaks; of the juice and substance, which being squeezed, embalmes all round about it, with its favour, of a hundred hidden virtues; as to fortify the hart, to clear the crystal of the eyes, to banish clouds, to cool our heats, to stirre-up the appetite, and a thousand the like, were a world to deal with; but I hasten to the Mistris-flower herself, who mysteriously sits in this goodly oeconomic of Sweets and beauties, as in her Bower, wherein She delights to shroud herself.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
Two things in the Rose chiefly do I note: 
The Survey.  what inwardly it contains, and what virtue and quality the Rose outwardly gives forth. It is strange, the same should be hot and cold together; cold in the leaves, hot in the seed; so as passions proceeding of excessive heat, it alleys and qualifyes with its leaves; and with the heat and vigour of its seeds, it quickens and virifyes the frigid and melancholy affections of the body. Some men are tepid, yea cold in the love of God; they are so dull & stupid in Divine things, that they cannot raise up the mind from terreve and earthly cogitations, to sublimer thoughts; being immured with base affections. But our Mystical Rose, with the seed of Grace in her, wherewith She was replenished, inflames their hearts to the love of God. Oh seed of our Rose! 
〈…〉.  She shall not fear her house for the colds of the snows; for all her household are clothed double. This snow so cold, is a frigidity of mind; but against this cold she clothes her Devotees with double suits of charity, to God and their Neighbour. Some also are hot, and most desperately inflamed with the fires of Concupiscence; these heats she tempers and extinguishes with the dews of her refrigerating grace, as with the leaves or mantle as it were of her gracious protection.  
The Rose, the more it is wrung or pressed, the sweeter odour it sends forth, and yealds such a redolent fragrancy withal, that all are wonderfully taken with the odoriferous breath it gives: and this our Rose, the more she was wrung and pressed with the cruel fingar of tribulations and afflictions, the greater her sanctity appeared. Being banished into Egypt, she gave forth a most fragrant odour of Patience, wherewith she embalmed all Egypt, and fructifyed afterwards into an infinite race of Devotees, to her and her Son; witness the Paul's, the Anthony's, the Hilarions, the Macarians of Egypt. In the Passion of her Son, transfixed with the sword of sorrow, she yielded a sweet perfume of perfect Faith. In other afflictions and tribulations she imparted the communicative odour of Compassion. For the torments which he suffered of the jews, she sent up the fragrancy of thanksgiving to the heavenly Father, from the Thurible of her Hart. And in the desolation she felt after his Ascension, for the absence of her Beloved, she poured forth incense of her holy Desires and incomparable Devotion. After all which odours, O give me leave, most sweet and odoriferous Rose, through desires and devotion to run after thee; or, do thou but draw me after thee, 
Cant. 1.  unto the odour of thine ointments.  
The Rose grows on thorns, but puts not on their nature; the thorns are churlish and rough, while the Rose is sweet and gentle. And Our Rose sprung indeed from the thorny stock of the jewish race, but yet took nothing of the condition of thorns with her. The jews were Proud and haughty, She most humble; they full of vices, she fully replenished with grace; the jews, we see, are Infidels, she the pattern and mirror of Faith; the jews covetous of earthly and terrene things, and she most thirsting after celestial. She sprung likewise from the thorny Eva; but yet took not after her nature. O thou Virgin (saith S. Bernard) most flourishing Rod of jesse! through whom was recovered in the Branch, what had perished in the Root! Eva was a branch of bitterness, Marry a branch of eternal sweetness. An admirable and most profound dispensation of the Divine Wisdom! that such a Rod should grow from such a Root; such a Daughter from such a Mother; such a Freeborn from such a Bondslave; such an Empress from such a captive; from so dry a Thorn, so flourishing a Rose.  
What the Rose gives outwardly forth, are the objects of three principal Senses: of Seeing, Smelling and Touching; and for the first, who sees not, that hath the benefit of eyes, how gorgeous the Rose is among all the flowers of the Garden, alluring and attracting the eyes of all that enter into it? So our incomparable Rose, was exceeding fair; and with incredible beauty, seemed gracious and amiable to the eyes of al. 
H●st. 2.  She was a glad spectacle unto GOD, Men, and Angels; to GOD, because so specious to her Son, her Spouse, her GOD. The King desires thy beauty, and says therefore: Show me thy face, for thy face is comely. 
psal.  Unto men, she was so admirable for beauty and grace, that S. Denys, that great light of the Militant Church, beholding her, acknowledged himself to have been dazzled, and nigh transported from himself. And for the Angels, hear what the Prophet says: All the rich of the people, shall implore thy countenance. And who are these rich, but the Angels, who beyond others enjoy the riches of the heavenly Kingdom? Whence She is said to be the Glory of Jerusalem, the gladness of Israel, the honour of her people.  
As for the odour she gave-forth of her Sanctity, 
judith. 14.  it is said: The odour of thy garments; which is of her outward virtues, 
Cant. 4.  being as the odour of incense, a grateful Sacrifice to God, which recreates those that are edified therewith.  
And for the sense of Touching in the Rose, it is understood in a spiritual sense. Hear S. Bernard: Why fears human frailty to approach to Marie? you shall find nothing terrible; She is wholly sweet and gentle; and being so sweet, is therefore to be sought-for, and embraced through devotion. Take her then, and she shall exalt thee; when thou shalt embrace her, thou shalt be glorified by her.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
THe Virgin sprung even from the barren earth, 
The Pause.   
A pure white Rose was in her happy birth,  
Conceived without a thorn. This only Flower  
The Father raised by his Almighty power.  
When th' Angel said, she should conceive a Son,  
She blushed, & asked, how it should be done?  
The holy-ghost inflamed, & so the white  
By him was made a Damask fiery bright.  
Lastly her Son made her purple red,  
When on the Cross his precious Blood was shed▪  
No Faith of Mortals then but had a stain,  
Excepting hers; for she was died in grain.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  a gallant and odoriferous Rose, growing on a pricklie and thorny stem, and men with admiration to stand pointing at it, saying to one another: What is that, there so shot-up, so beautiful to behold, from so ragged, sharp, and harsh a thorn? And then ponder, how the Angels stood amazed, seeing so our Mystical Rose transplanted from Hierico, into the Heavenly Paradise; or ascending rather so flourishing from the Desert, when there was like questioning amongst them, at her glorious Assumption, ask: Who it was, 
Cant, ult.  that ascended flowing with delights?  
Consider then the Rose, while it grows in the Garden, and flourisheth, as it were alive; how it cheers and glads the eyes of all with its glorious presence; and how, after it is cropped from its stem also, which is the death of the said Rose, what an odour it hath with it, even after it hath been persecuted with fire in the furnace of the Still, as well in the water, as in the cake; and then think, what a mirror and pattern of sanctity Our Lady was, during her abode here in the garden of the World; and how she multiplied her favours to mankind, especially after she was translated thence, and had been proved and exercised with infinite tribulations, leaving an unspeakable odour behind, of miracles and graces; witness the innumerable Votes that hang on her Temples and Chapels throughout the world.  
Ponder lastly, that of Roses are made, sometimes Electuaries, sometimes Oils, sometimes Plasters, and Conserves very sovereign and medicinal for many diseases, namely four: for first, the Rose fortifyes the stomach, and comforts the hart; secondly, it stops the flux of the venture; thirdly, it clarifyes the eyes; and finally, heals the headache. So our Mystical Rose comforts the hart, in affording it the Charity of GOD; restrains the flux of sins, through the Fear of GOD, which she gives to eschew sins withal; clarifyes the eye of the understanding, by imparting to it the knowledge of Divine things; and cures the head, 
Thess, 5,  which is hope, being the helmet of health, when she raiseth our tepid hope, to desire Celestial things; and therefore saith: I am the mother of fair dilection, 
Ecel, 24  of fear, of knowledge, and of holy hope.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
FLower of flowers, 
The Colloquis  O Rose of roses, O Flower of roses, O Rose of flowers! Shore me up with flowers, because I languish for love of thy love jesus, the bud of thee, o Rose, little in thy womb greater in thine arms, & then fairest of all, when opened throughly and displayed on the Crosse. By that precious bud of thine, I beseech thee, and the shedding of his most precious blood, thou wouldst change my thorns into roses; and present me, as a Rose of sweet odours, to thy Son, and not as thorns for fuel of the fire of his indignation. O grant me this, I beseech thee; and here do I present thee, in honour of thee, the Mystical Rose, and thy Son, thy sovereign Bud, the Hymn that follows: 
Salue CHRISTI sacra Parens,  
Flos de spina, spinâ carens,  
Flos, Spinati gloria.  
Nos spinetum, nos peccati  
Spinâ sumus cruentari;  
Sed tu spinae nescia.     

THE III. SYMBOL. THE LILY.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Lily is the Sceptre of the chaste Diana; 
The Impresa  whose Flowerdeluce, the crown; and stem, the handle; which she chastely wealds amidst the Nymphs of flowers. It is a Siluer-Bel, without sound to the ear, but full of sweets to the brim; and where it can not draw the ears, the eyes it will; and inebriats the curious with its over-sweets. It is a Box of Civet's, which opens to the Zephirs, and prodigally powers forth its spices to the standers roundabout, though they come not very nigh it, Flora it seems hath no other Purse, than this of candid saffron, without strings to shut it up; so prodigal she is of her sweets which she well knows can never all be disbursed. Who had not seen a Lily heretofore, especially the Flowerdeluce, the Prince of Lilies, would start (no doubt) as with the sight of a Garden-Comete, and call in his friends perhaps to gaze on a Blazing Star or Garden-Miracle. It is the ensign of France, even vying with the British or Lancastrian Whiter Rose; if not so happy for her Union with the Red, the Ensign of Peace, yet in this more happy, that she never was divided, to have need of such a Union, as ever standing of herself. It is a Quiver of amorous shafts, with golden heads, which some call hammers rather, against lust, to blunt the thorns of lewd Concupiscence. A very Purselin cup, replenished within, with the rarities of Nature, enough to stupify and astonish the curious in the search of secrets. It is beside a precious Pot of the purest Alabaster, filled with the invaluable Spicknard of Arabia; for scent and odour, as it were, fellow unto that, the blessed Magdalen poured on her master's head; and if you will not believe me, approach but to the vessel itself, and you shall feel it straight. To say no more, no snow is found to be more white than it, nor gives a greater flash of lightning in the eyes than it, that sweetly dazzles and not dulls the sight.   

THE MORALS.  NIVEO CANDORE NITESCEN 
THey are truly chaste, 
The Motto.  whose mind and body never yet admitted stain in the virgin-wax of their pure integrity, in either part. chaste is she held to be, and so is truly, that vows her chastity, and keeps the same, howbeit once stained perhaps, at least with impurities of mind, and washed again with the Laver made of the purest Blood of the immaculate Lamb, she seems indeed to follow the Lamb, wheresoever he goes. The Turtle-Widowes are accounted chaste, and so they are, that having lost their virginal integrity, are reborn anew, as it were, both in mind and body, with a chaster purpose, never more to choose another earthly Mate, or Turtle-dove, to follow and consort withal; but instead of such, make choice to link themselves from thenceforth to a heavenly Spouse; and who, trow you, but the Spouse of Spouses? and that for ever. The Vestal-Virgins were esteemed such by all their Flamens, though they had but a bodily integrity, and no more, while the mind perhaps was secretly a Prostitute to all impurities. And if there was any of them, as some there might be, who kept both the one and other sort of purities indeed, yet were they not vowed perpetually to be such; and so were chaste, though they shined not with that snowy chastity; which, if it be, were, and ever shall be so, is not yet the perfectest chastity of all, nor any way such, as the Queen of Virgins was, and therefore worthily said to be: NIVEO CANDORE NITESCENS.   

THE ESSAY.  
WHEN Nature is in her chiefest jollity, she tapistryes the whole Vnivers with a world of delicious flowers. 
The Review.  And to say truth, these flowers are even the smiles and laughters of the Earth, that sees herself now delivered of the cruelties of the Winter, and long captivity. She seems therein to take pleasure, recreate, and disport herself; to diaper the face of the earth in a thousand fashions, enamelled with as manierarities; while the gentle breaths of Zephyrus, with the sweet influences of Heaven, mixing their moistures, with the heats of the April-Sun, make that whole diversity, which is in the bosom of the earth, all sowed-over with a thousand seeds, now mortified with the austerities of the winter. When they are come forth, Nature solicitous of these treasures so odoriferous, seeks to guard them carefully, and adorn them curiously; arming some with thorns, others with prickles; covering these with rough, and others with large and shady leaves, to conserve their lustre. Among the which the Lily carries hers very long, and green, the stem, high and round, straight, united, fat, & firm, all clothed with leaves. On the top whereof, grow out as it were certain wires, with heads theron, or buttons somewhat long, of the colour of the herb, which in time grow white, and fashion themselves in form of a bell of satin or silver. From the bottom and hart thereof, grow upright, some little wires of gold, with heads like hammers of the same. The leaves whereof, of an exquisite whiteness, all streaked and striped without, go enlarging themselves, like a bell, as before is said. The seed remains in these hammers of gold. The stem to carry the head the better, is knotted and strengthened throughout; for that the Lily is ever with the head hanging downwards, and languishing, as not able to bear up itself. There are some of them red, some of them azure. These are all so delicious, that even to behold them were a great delight.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
THE Liseron is a Lily also, 
The Survey.  though a bastard of that kind, without odour and those wires above, made as an essay, or practice, and first draught of Nature, endeavouring so to form patterns, to frame some masterpiece of the true Flowerdeluce, the Prince of Lilies. Our incomprable VIRGIN is this Flowerdeluce, that Princess of Lilies, for the many sympathies and fair resemblances it hath with it. The Lily is white without, and gold within, and both within and without, most fragrant and odoriferous; and the Blessed VIRGIN was most fair and beautiful in her flesh, through the candour of her virginity: 
Sap. 7.  she, the candour of the eternal light; and the glass without spot. In mind she was all inflamed, as the burnished gold, Gold (as Aristotle saith) can not be corrupted; nor could Her Charity be ever extinguished. For, 
Cant, 8. c  many waters, as it is said, can not extinguish charity. And how sweet She was both inwardly and outwardly, who sees not, that considers her Humility, in the lowliness of her hart within, and outwardly in her conversation? Which Humility of hers sent forth such an odour unto God, 
1. Cant 1  as alured and attracted him to her: When the King was in his seaty, my Nard gave forth an odour: to wit, her Humility: And these are the Lilies: Virginity, Humility, and Charity, which chiefly environed the Blessed Virgin, while her little JESUS was hanging at her breast, being fed among Lilies; for if these be not Lilies, what are they?  
Again the Lily hath a straight stem or stalk, tending wholly and directed upwards, but the leaves pendant and hanging downwards; and the Virgin's mind like a staff was always straight, and tending to GOD, in yielding him thanks for his benefits, and ever magnifying his holy Name. For as the Lily whatsoever odour and candour it hath, directs it to heavenwards: So MARIE, what sanctity or grace soever she had, offered it up all unto GOD, But for the leaves, her words, they were always bend to the earth, in speaking perpetually most humbly of herself. Whence said she so affectuously: My soul doth magnify our Lord; behold the stem of this Lily, how straight it was, and how directly ascended to the Heavens: But see the leaves now, and mark how they look downwards: He hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaid, and the like.  
The Lily beside is always fragrant, and of a most sweet odour; and our Lily was perfumed with an odoriferous ointment, which made her so fragrant and redolent, composed of three odoriferous spices: aromatizing as Balm, 
Eccls 24.  Myrrh, and Cinnamon. For she was Embalmed by the Divinity, when the Deity was lodged in her; spiced with Myrrh, through the gift of Angelical purity and Virginity; and inflamed with a sweet Divine love, which is as the powder of Cinnamon here understood, hot in smell, and taste; hot in smell, and therefore as love, draw me with the odour of thy Ointments, to wit, with the love of thy heavenly graces; hot in taste, and therefore Divine; because we are bid to see and taste, how sweet our Lord is. Of which ointment it is said in the Canticles: 
Cant. 2.  The odour of thine ointments, is beyond all spices.  
Besides, the Lily hath the root and stem, six-square or corner-wise. So the root of Charity in this Paragon, hath six points with it: the first, a love of GOD above all things; the second, wherewith she loved her own soul, conserving the same in all sanctity; the third, wherewith she loved her body, keeping it entirely for the Divinity; the fourth, wherewith she loved her domestics and familiars, instructing them in all virtue; the fifth, wherewith she loved her friends, in GOD; The last, wherewith she loved her enemies, for GOD.  
And to conclude, as the Bedchambers of Kings are adorned with Lilies, that they may rest more deliciously among them; so the Virgin, not the Chamber only of a King, but of GOD also, was dressed-up and beset all with Lilies roundabout; according to that: Thy womb as a heap of corn hedged-in with Lilies; 
Cant. 7.  for she was all encompassed with Lilies: above, being enclosed with the Lily of eminent Charity; beneath, with the Lily of profund Humility; inwardly, with the Lily of internal Purity; outwardly, with the Lily of Virginity; on the right hand, with the Lily of Temperance, in prosperity; on the left, with the Lily of Patience, in adversity; before, with the Lily of Providence, in future things; behind, with the Lily of Gratitude, for passed benefits. And since she was so environed and enclosed with Lilies of all sides, the Church sings of her: As the days of the Spring, do the flowers of the roses environ her round. 
Cant. 2.  Among which flowers of Roses and Lilies, the Beloved, that is CHRIST, is feeding: My beloved to me, and I to him, who seeds among the Lilies.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
A Pure-white Lily, 
The P●use.  like a silver Cup,  
The sacred Virgin humbly offers up.  
Her constant, steadfast, lowly Hart (the foot,  
Which all supports) is like this flower's root.  
The stem, her right Intention; & the bowl  
(The flower itself) is her chaste spotless Soul.  
The yellow knobs, which sprouting forth are seen,  
Isradiant Love, which guild's her Cup within.  
In lieu of liquides, is a fragrant sent:  
Her virtue's odours, which she doth present.  
Her Son accepts all, that she offers up,  
GOD, Part of her inheritance, & Cup.   

THE THEORIES.  
Contemplate first, 
The Contemplation,  how all thorns conceive but thorns. For what should thorns conceive but merely thorns? Corrupt mothers bring forth into the world but men, which merely are but men and sinners. But the Virgin-Mother conceived the Holy of Holies. She now a Lily conceived, and afterwards produced the true Lily of the valleys; a Lily of Virginity, the Lily of Majesty: through whose candour is darkness expelled; with whose odour, are raised the dead; with whose touch, are the leprous cleansed, and all the infirm and diseased cured. And therefore how much this Lily of ours, is to be exalted above all the other Daughters, judge you, and ponder it well.  
Consider then, that though there were many other Virgins beside, conspicuons and eminent for sanctity, yet were as thorns; for that they had some blemish in them; since, howbeit they were pure in themselves, yet the foams of sin was not extinguished in them; who were indeed as thorns to others, that have been touched and incited with concupiscence towards them. Whereas the Virgin-Mother was wholly privileged from all guilt, in whom was that foams altogether extinguished, and was accomplished with so intense a Chastity, that with her inestimable Virginal purity, she so penetrated the hearts of the beholders, as she could not be coveted of any; but for the time rather extinguished all lust of concupiscence in them. O beauty of Virginity and Humility, wherewith the Son of GOD was so alured and ravished!  
Ponder lastly, that as the Lily hath a most efficacious virtue against leprosy, ulcers, and the holiefire, as also against the stinging of serpents: So the blessed Virgin being conceived as a Lily, was endued with such virtue of the Divine grace, that neither the leprosy of Original sin, the fire of concupiscence, nor the biting of the old Serpent, could any ways hurt her.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Lily of Lilies, and next the Lily (thy dearest Son) the purest of all Lilies. 
The Colloqute  Alas! most pure and immaculate Virgin, shall I always live in the slavery and servitude of this impure flesh of mine? And shall I ever be troubled and vexed with these unchaste cogitations, and impure apprehensions; which so macerate my unwilling soul? Oh, thou elevated and raised above all pare creatures, most blessed Virgin, I say Blessed with all benediction! how long? Alas! how shall I sustain the body of this death, this impure thistle of the body, with its thorns? Alas, when shall I be delivered and rid thereof?    

THE IV. SYMBOL. THE VIOLET.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Violet is truly the Hermitesse of flowers, 
The Impresa  affecting woods and forests, where, in a lowly humility mixed with solicitude, she leads a life delicious in herself, though not so specious to the eye, because obscure. She is a great companion to the Primrose, and they little less than sworn sisters; with whom, when she is disposed, she will recreate herself whole nights and days; and you shall likely never find them far asunder. When they are so in company in the wood together, where she is bred and borne, they make an excellent enamel of blue and yellow; but being by herself alone, as in her celle, she is a right Amethyst. Had june been in quest; to seek her Bird, as strayed in the woods, she would easily have thought these purple Violets had been her Argoe's eyes, as shattered here and there, and dropped down from her Peacock's train; and so well might hope to have found her Bird again, as Dear are traced by their footing. She is even the Wanton among leaves, that plays the Bopeep with such, as she is merry and bold withal; whom when you think you have caught, and have now already in your hand, she slips and leaves you mocked, while you have but her scarf only, and not herself. She is the Anchoress, sending forth a fragrant odour of her sactitie, where she is not seen; which she would hide full fain, but can not. She is the Herald of the Spring, wearing the Azure-coat of Arms, and proclaiming sweetly in her manner to the spectators the new arrival of the welcome guest. She is the Primitiae or hasty present of Flora, to the whole Nature. Where if the Rose and Lily, be the Queen and Lady of Flowers, she will be their lowly handmaid, lying at their feet, and yet happily (for worth) be advanced to lodge in the fairest bosoms, as soon as they; as being the only Fair affecting obscurity and to lie hid, which other Beauties hate so much.   

THE MORALS.  HUMI SERPENS EXTOLLOR HONORE. 
Virginity indeed is a specious and glorious thing, 
The Motto.  and hath somewhat of the Angel with it: but yet nothing so happy as Humility is, which hath in truth somewhat else withal, as it were Divine. Virginity and purity invited the Word to take up his lodging in the Virginal womb; but Humility was it, that strook-up the bargain between the Immaculate Hostess and the Divine Guest. And hence arose the source of all her advancements. The Angels are pure indeed, but lower than their nature is, they can not stoop; since Lucifer himself even after his fall retained his nature still, which he could not forgo: thrice happy they, had they not aspired higher than they were indeed. But the Eternal Word could stoop so low, and really did, to be less than Angels. If purity then be a glorious, specious, and Angelical thing, Humility is a virtue more than Angelical, as being Divine. The Angels would fain have risen higher, but could not; they tried their wings, and with that jearus (that daring youth) had a shameful fall. But the purest of all Virgins in contemplation of the Eternal Word, ready to stoop so low, whereas she was to be truly the Queen of Angels, styles here herself the lowly handmaid of our Lord; when creeping on the ground as low as might be, she came to be exalted to the highest dignity next her Son, in human nature, and might worthily say: HUMI SERPENS EXTOLLOR HONORE.   

THE ESSAY.  
ONE would think, 
The Review.  the Author of Nature had made choice of the Violet, to couch his enamel, and to make the delicateness of his pencil shine therein, and the fairest colours of the world, to border the mantle of the Spring withal. There are some purple, but with the finest purple; some as snow, fashioned into little flowers, like curdled milk, and blazoned as with Argent leaves, all sown thick with little odoriferous stars: Others are of Ore musked, or of Violcts metamorphosed into most sweet gold, cut into blossoms. There are some decked with a hundred and a hundred leaves neatly fitted together, and all as grafted into one stem, which casting themselves into a round and folding within one another through a sweet economy, agree to frame and compose a very dainty and delicious Violet, as fair as sweet, mingling, with a gentle confusion, a thousand colours, which sympathize exceeding well, and glad the eye. Behold the Violet of March and April; May and june have theirs apart, being of a changeable colour, having the top and edge of purple, white in the midst, and guilded beneath in the bottom. What a marvellous enamel to see the argent, the purple, the Ore, and azure of the leaves, which shade roundabout, all coming forth of a little green tuft, from a little sprig, with a string, that serves as a pipe for Nature to distil her musks, that breathe from thence. The leaves are somewhat round in their peering forth, and jagged; and then after extend they in length, and spread themselves. Their great virtue comes from a little fire well tempered in them, and a sweet heat, which is the predominant quality of their complexion, and makes them sweetly bitter. To renew their forces again, when they are decaying, they steep them in vinegar; and it is incredible, the virtues these little flowers have; for they mollify hardness, allay heats, and extinguish inflammations: the juice softens the venture, dissipates and evacuats choler, sweetens the asperity of the lights, alleys the fire that burns the breast; with infinite other things, most sovereign for use.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
BEHOLD now the Violet, 
The Survey.  which after the Rose (the Queen of flowers) and the Lily (the honour of gardens) I should think might follow well in Our Lady's Garden, as an excellent Type or Symbol of her. It is flower well known to all, familiar and domestical with all Nations. For where have you a Garden, that hath not store of them? yea the woods together with the Primrose seem to be as strewed with them as tapistryes; they are so diapered alover with those flowers. And our glorious VIRGIN is as easy and familiar to approach unto, as it. The honour of this Violet, is in the Spring; or rather is the Violet, the honour of the Spring. Because the hoary & horrid Winter now passed over, and the rigid frosts and snows dissolved, the pleasant season of the Spring returning, the Earth seems to put forth the Violet, as the primitias of flowers, together with the Primrose her inseparable companion, to welcome it with; a hasty present indeed, but yet a rare one. The spring of Grace so appearing, and opening the breast, after so tedious a Winter overpast, of horrid Sin and frozen Infidelity, our MARIE the Violet, or the Violet-Marie rather, is put forth, as a joyful present to glad the time withal.  
This flower I find now to affect the hills and mountains, though there want no store and plenty of them in the plains and valleys also; and, as gardiner's use to say, it loves to be transplanted to and fro. And so our Violet here was no less transplanted in her Visitation, when she Rifing up, went hastily into the mountains. For lo, this Violet sprung at first and grew in the valleys, to wit, of herself; but was then transferred and removed into the mountain of Perfection, to the mountain of Glory, mountain of Fame, Honour, and Exaltation: but yet was admirably planted in the valley of Humility. A strange thing truly, and more than a Garden-miracle, that our Violet should still remain in the valley, and yet be placed on a Mountain! yea the higher she was exalted on the Mountain, the better she was rooted in the Valley: both on the same Mountain, and in the same Valley, at one and the selfsame time. Now, Philosopher, tell me, what would you more? can not the same thing be in two places at once? It may; MARRY on the Hil of exaltation, and the selfsame MARIE in the Valley of demission, fulfilling therein the precept of the Wife-man: How much greater thou art, 
Eccles.  do thou humble thyself in al.  
And now see, I pray, the haste the Violet makes above all flowers, to entertain the Spring; and then to behold our Violet made to climb the mountains, would make you wonder, to see her in such haste. For who would not admire to see a tender Virgin, great with child, to fly from the valley, over hills and dales, through thick and thin, to the mountain-tops? But yet wonder not, while we daily see great engines moved, and that most swiftly too, by force of fire: GOD is our consuming fire. 
Deut▪ 4.  This fire then the Virgin carried in her bosom; She is stirred and excited with the blast of the holy-ghost, unto offices of piety. The fire breaks forth; what marvel then, if it carries so the engine of the body with it? I say, what marvel, while the Spirit of GOD, whose Symbol is Fire, carries her so fast through public places, to shun the aspect of men (so contrary to the inclination of Virginal modesty) to hide herself in the house of her Cousin?  
The Violet, as the Rose also, being planted near the leek, or garlic, becomes more fragrant in odour; so as the ungrateful sent of the one, gives a sweeter favour unto the other; and therefore the Gardener plants it near unto them, to have it send forth a greater odour. Now the Virgin-Mother being in herself a most odoriferous Violet above all other Violets and roses of the world, breathed from herself the sweetest odour of all virtues. The odour of her garments were as the odour of the fulfield. But in her house at Nazareth, which ●ignifyes Flowerie, this Violet shined less, and, as a Violet, lay hid within her leaves. Wherefore it seemed good to the expert Gardener, her heavenly Spouse in her womb, to transfer this Violet with his Spirit into the mountains of judea, being places all set with garlic and leeks, as I may term it; Where Zacharie and Elizabeth sat shedding of tears for the Redemptsion of Israel, the proper effect of those herbs; which She through her coming wiped away, and further gave forth a greater odour of sanctity, than ever; for lo, she filled the whole house with the odour of her Virtues.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
IN Heaven the humble Angels GOD beheld; 
The Pause.   
And on the earth, with Angels paralleled,  
The lowly Virgin viewed; Her modest eye,  
Submissive countenance, thoughts that did rely  
On him, that would exalt an humble wight,  
And make his Mother. Alma, ne'er in sight,  
With virtues, fragrant odours, round beset,  
Close to the earth lay like the Violet;  
Which shrouded with its leaves, in covert lies,  
Found sooner by the sent, then by the eyes.  
Such was the Virgin raised to be Heaven's Queen,  
Who on the earth neglected, was not seen.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  how, as Pliny saith, the Violet is sovereign against the Squinzi in the throat, the Catharre in the eyes, and Impostumes in the body. So S. john Baptist was before his Sanctification, being as ulcerous and impostumat, as we all before Baptism, through Original Sin: Elizabeth continually pouring forth tears, for the barrenness and sterility as well of the Synagogue, as of herself: and zachary's throat being stopped with the squinzi of Infidelity, so as he could not speak. MARRY the Violet entering into this Hospital, the impostumed of john vanished, the defluxions of Elizabeth ceased, and zachary's squinzies were unstopped; and finally health was restored to the whole house.  
Consider then again, how, as Pliny saith, the seed of the Violet, is the infallible destruction of the Scorpion; than which, what more expressly in Symbolical Theology declares the Mother of GOD to be a Violet? For this malediction was given by GOD against the accursed Serpent, from the first beginning: I will put enmities between thee and the woman; and thy seed and her Seed; and she shall tread (or it shall tread) thy head. No seed more opposite to the Scorpion, then that of the Violet: nor none to the Serpent so much, as the Seed of the Virgin, JESUS.  
Ponder lastly, how the Violet by some is called the Flower of the Trinity; perhaps for the triple colour which is found therein: for that, as in the Violet are seen the violet, the purple, and the golden colour; and as those colours in the natural, so in the Violet MARIE may you consider, the Violet colour of Humility, the purple of her Chasti●●e, and the golden colour of Maternitie or Charity in her; since her Charity was the cause of her Maternitie, and consequently, she the Violet of a Trinity.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Fair and goodly Flower, the true Aurora of the Spring, 
The Colloquy  the gladsome Harbinger of the Spring of grace, thou fairest of all flowers, and yet who hold'st the lowest place, still grounded in thy Nothing! O that this true contempt of myself were planted once and rooted in the ground of my hart! that this lowliness of hart, I say, O Lady Violet, and humility of spirit, were imprinted for ever in my soul! Oh obtain for me. Alas! due. I conjure and bes●e●h you to it, by all the reverences and respects, which the Son of God, the Wisdom of the Father, hath yielded you in heaven; and which the Great GOD your Son no less hath afforded you on earth.    

THE V. SYMBOL. THE HELIOTROPION.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Heliotropion is the lofty Cedar of flowers, 
The Impresa  wherein the Sun, could he nestle himself, would choose of all the rest to build his nest; for birds, we know, breed where they haunt most, and delight to harbour and converse in, all the day. It is even the Eye, & nothing else but Eye, to behold the Sun; which she never shuts, till he sinks down in Tethis' bed; where being drowned over head and ears, she winks and shrowds herself the while, in the thin eyelids of her leaves, to meditate upon him. It is the Arsenal of crimson-flags displayed to the Pythian Apollo, in despite of Mars, whom she adores as God of Arms as well as Books; whereas Mars, if you take him from his spear and shield, can neither write nor read. It is the Gnomon of the Garden, a Dial artificially made in herbs, to express all the hours of the day; a very needle, pointing to its radiant Star; which being so restless as it is, makes her as restless every whit; with this difference only, that he measures infinite degrees of Heavens, and she as many points. It is a very Mart of silks, sarcenets, taffetas, and satins, all of Gingeline in grain, because in fashion. If the Rose excel in savour, which she professes not to utter in her shop, she vows to be more loyal and constant to her Paramour, than it. She is so amorous, & dotes so much upon him, that she can not live without his conversation; which she hath so much, as she almost is turned and quite metamorphosed into him, and now become already in the Garden, what he is in his Zodiac, the true and real flower of the Sun, or Sun of Flowers, as he himself the Sun of stars, or that great Star they call a Sun. It is the true Alferes of herbs, bearing up the standard of Flora, amidst the rest of flowers; the Pharus, to direct the Garden-nimphs, when they lose themselves in the labyrinth of flowery knots or Maze of flowers: the Beacon all on fire, to give warning to the rest of flowers of the arising of the Sun, to beware of his parching rays, for fear of withering before their times. It is even the Daphne of flowers, whom Phoebus follows all the day; and, if she fly, she hath her eye on her shoulder, to look behind her, as she runs.   

THE MORALS.  AD ME CONVERSIO EIUS. 
PIctures likely are so framed, that be you in the room, 
The Motto.  in any part, they will seem to look upon you. Look where the Panther is, in woods and forests, there will commonly other beasts resort, to look and gaze upon him; whether it be the beauty of his spotted coat, or sweetness of his breath, which attracts, I know not; but this is sure, the effect is so, as I have heard. The Turtle seems to have no eye but for his mate; and where they sit together, their eyes will be as glued upon each other. The Pole that draws the Needle to it, the loadstone that attracts the iron, the ieat that pulls the fescue, what is it el's but a natural instinct, or Moral rather I may say, of more than mutual love that makes the one so powerfully to allure, and the other to be so easy and wiling to be drawn? This I am sure of, Virtue is so specious, and so goodly a thing, that it draws the eyes of all to look upon her; and where they have not hearts to follow her fair steps, yet will they stand to gaze upon her, and admire at least. The little JESUS lying in the Crib, like a Loadstone drew the Shepherds from their flocks, Kings from their peoples, a Star from the rest of the fellowship of stars, yea even the Angels from the Heavens, to sing a Gloria in excelsis unto God, and peace to men: What trow you, but a secret instinct, that could be no less than Heavenly and Divine, made so great a conversion of Terrestrials and Celestials to a little Infant? And as for the Mother her self, that held him in her lap the while, she before sitting in her little Nazareth obscure, drew so the eyes of the Almighty to her, that He could not choose, but so convert himself unto her, as to descend and lodge within her, and she truly say: AD ME CONVERSIO EIUS.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE honour of our Gardens, and the miracle of flowers, at this day, 
The Review.  is the Heliotropion or Flower of the Sun; be it for the height of its stem, approaching to the heavens some cubits high; or beauty of the flower, being as big as a man's head, with a fair ruff on the neck; or, for the number of the leaves, or yellow, vying with the marigold; or, which is more, for all the qualities, nature, and properties of the Flower, which is to wheel about with the Sun; there being no Needle, that more punctually regards the Poles, then doth this Flower the glorious Sun. For in the morning it beholds his rising; in his journey, attends upon him; and eyeth him still, wheresoever he goes; nor ever leaves following him, till he sink down over head and ears in Tethis' bed, when not being able to behold him any longer she droops and languishes, till he arise; and then follows him again to his old lodging, as constantly as ever; with him it riseth, with him it falls, and with him riseth again. Nature hath done well in not affording it any odour at all; for with so much beauty and admirable singularities, had there been odour infused thereinto, and the sweetness of odoriferous flowers withal, even men, who are now half mad in adoring the same for its excellent gifts, would then have been stark mad indeed, with doting upon it. But Nature, it seems, when first she framed a pattern for the rest, not being throughly resolved, what to make it, tree or flower, having brought her workmanship almost unto the top, after a little pause perhaps, at all adventure put a flower upon it, and so for haste, forgot to put the Musks into it. Whereupon, to countervail her neglect herein, the benign Sol, of mere regard and true compassion, graced her by his frequent and assiduous look with those golden rays it hath. And as the Sun shows himself to be enamoured with her, she, as reason would, is no less taken with his beauty, and by her will (if by looks we may guess of the will) would fain be with him. But like an Ostrich, with its leaves as wings, it makes unprofitable offers, to mount up unto him, and to dwell with him; but being tied by the root, it doth but offer, and no more. It is like the Sceptre which the Payn●ms attribute to their Deity, that bears an Eye on the top; while this flower is nothing else but an Eye, set on the point of its stem; not to regard the affairs of Mortals so much, as to eye the Immortal Sun with its whole propension; the middle of which flower, where the seed is, as the white of the eye, is like a Turkie-carpet, or some finer cloth wrought with curious needlework, which is all she hath to entertain her Paramour.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
COuld there be devised a more noble Symbol of our Incomparable LADY than this flower, 
The Survey.  regarding indeed the true Sun 〈◊〉 justice, whom she followed still in the whol● course of her life, unto her death? Therefore, whom we have already represented, as a Rose, Lillie, and Violet, let us now contemplate, as a true Heliotropion. Compare we then, first, by certain Analogies, the Sun, being the king of Planets, with the Sun of justice, King of the Sun and Planets; and the Heliotropion, with the Virgin Marie, The Sun chief of Planets, fills the earth with his influences: the Sun of justice, the world, with the effects of his power. The Sun of Planets is the First cause, among the Seconds; the Sun of justice the First before them all; that traverses all places, this penetrates all hearts; that lends his light to the moon and stars, this gives both life and being to all creatures. The Sun, the Planet, is the origin of life, the Sun of justice, life itself; that is sovereignly visible, this most sovereignly intelligible. In the Sun of Planets, is fruitfulness, light, and heat, essentially but one and the self same thing; and the Sun of justice, with the Father, and the holy-ghost, substantially is but One God. The Sun of Planets was never without these properties; nor the holy Divinity of the Sun of justice, without these Three eternal Persons. And for our Lady herself, our fair Heliotropion, as the Sun of Planets illumines the Stars, so the Sun of justice enlightened her thoughts. The Sun of Planets, is the eye of the world, the joy of the day, the glory of heavens, the measure of times, the virtue of plants and flowers, the perfection of the stars: and the Sun of justice, is the eye of her thoughts, the joy of her hart, the glory of her soul, the rule of her desires, the vigour of her spirit, the master of her loves, and even the centre of her propensions. He was, I say, the object of her looks, the Monarch of her wills, the thought of her thoughts, the light of her understanding▪ and the absolute Moderator of all her passions.  
Look where the Sun is, the Heliotropion, being nothing else but eye, hath the same still cast upon it: and so the Virgin had the eye of her soul, still on the Sun of justice.. 
Cant 1. 10.  I to my beloved, and his conversion to me. Examine each day of her blessed life; run over the hours, tell the quarters, discuss the moments, and you shall always find her turned to the Sun. In her Nativity, an Heliotropion; in the Presentation, an Heliotropion; in the Annunciation, an Heliotropion; in the Purification, and every action, a true Heliotropion. For she never said, did, or thought any thing, which she directed not to GOD as to the Author, which she reduced not to him as to the last end, which she began not for his service, and finished not for his glory, and lastly, wherein she followed not her Son, that true Sun of justice, which is to be a true Heliotropion indeed. And for her bodily eyes, she was directly so, when she stood dolorous by the tree of the Cross, on the top whereof was CHRIST the true Sun indeed in the height of the Zodiac, as in his proper Orb, when not only with the face, but with the whole body also she regarded her Son, and with eyes fixed attentively indeed, beheld him fully: and as the flower Heliotropion is wont to flag with the leaves at the setting of the Sun, so likewise was she (had she been left only to the strength of nature) ready to fall and sink to the ground, when her Son drooped.  
Pliny wonders at the Holiotropion, for converting itself to the Sun, even under a cloud, and that in the night also; but MARRY, our true Heliotropion here, takes not her eye of Contemplation of from her Son so much as in the night. For many Doctors most constantly hold her Contemplation was never interrupted so much as in her sleep; and that she slept in body, but waked in hart. I sleep, and my hart wakes. There was never known a time more cloudy, nor ever night more obscure than that, wherein the Sun of justice being set, the whole light seemed quite extinguished; nor any, Heliotropion appeared in the Garden of the Church, so to gaze on the Sun under a cloud, but only those two beautiful Heliotropions, john and MARIE; never creatures better resembled that flower, being of the selfsame posture, of the same pale sad colour, and with the whole countenance cast still upon him, and she especially, not taking off her eye from him, who was enwrapped in the cloud of Death.  
Behold now this rare Heliotropion of Ours, even at the point of death, as she lay dying; dying, do I say, or sleeping rather? For if the death of any mortal wight may be termed a sleep, surely that of the Mother of God is not to be called a death so much, as a sweet Sleep. She lies in her deathbed, as burning all with love, like a true Heliotropion turning to her Son, still casting her eyes upon him. I to my beloved, and his conversion unto me. The Eternal Father, like the Sun; darts most radiant beams of love upon her: she endeavours of the other side; with reciprocal looks of love, as darts; to return to him the like, but sinks and fails in the midst of the endeavour, and like a flower hangs down the head, and dies. With this kind of death, the Fathers of the Church, clients of that great Mother, affirm, she was translated from the earth, and assumpted into heaven.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
Here you behold the handmaid of the Sun, 
The Pause.   
That waits upon him, as his stallions run.  
There in the Moon an other flower attends,  
And follows her, that borrowed brightness sends  
Upon its gazing eyes. Eve, like this flower,  
Was all for change. Her happiness an hour  
Continued not. Alas! 'twas altered soon;  
Affected Deity, was like the Moon,  
Which she beheld. But Mary's thoughts were high,  
Upon the Sun of justice fixed her eye;  
Her Soul, with all her powers were still thereon,  
As flowers & leaves of Heliotropion.   

THE THEORIES.  
CONTEMPLATE first, 
The Contemplation.  how as soon as the golden Sun peers and puts forth his head in the morning, the Heliotropion displays itself to the Sunny beams, circles with the Sun, and when he comes to the West, bows down the head, and sits with him. So MARIE, as sooneas CHRIST, the Sun of justice, arose in his nativity, framed and composed her countenance to his, with him fetching her compass in the Zodiac of his life, she ordered her course, as it were, by the same coasts: by the South of Love, when he redeemed mankind; by the North of Patience, in so many adversities; by the East of Resignation, when he satisfied the Eternal Father, by his passion; and lastly in the West, in the setting of her Son the Sun, in her solitary retirement till his glorious Resurrection, the new Aurora of the Eternal day.  
Consider then, how we first convert not ourselves to the Sun of justice, nor attract the rays of the Divine benignity unto us: but he with a gracious cast of his beams, upon the Heliotropion of our hart, excites the flower, and allures it to turn the face unto it back again. Convert me, and I shall be converted, 
jerem. 31. 18.  saith the Prophet. But the Mother of God, the true Heliotropion indeed, doth otherwise; and therefore, I to my beloved, that is, I convert myself unto him; and so it follows: and his conversion unto me.  
Imagine you behold artificially painted, a JESUS sporting in his Mother's arms; look which way you will, of any side, he always seems to have his eyes cast upon you. So surely the most sweet face of JESUS, whose eyes shine like stars, of their parts are always converted towards thee; so as if thou perceivest not thyself to be especially regarded by them, it proceeds no whit from them, but from thyself, who turnest away thy face, or dost not mark or eye them at al. Whereas our Heliotropion here never takes off her eyes from her Son, 
Cant.  but hath them always cast upon him: and therefore truly may say: I to my beloved, and his conversion unto me.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Fairest Virgin-flower! Thou most specious and amorous Heliotropion, more happy than the rest of flowers for those especial favours from thy Spouse, 
The Colloquy  being no less than the glorious and radiant Sun of justice.. O gracious Queen of flowers! O Sacred Prodigy of all Gardens, and m●st stupendious Heliotropion, the miracle of Paradise, the amazement of Philosophy, wonder of Nature, fruitful Virgin. Virgin-Mother! O mediate for me, with thy amorous Sun, thy Son, and obtain for me, through thy example, I may become a true Heliotropion, with mine eyes still cast upon thee my object, and may receive like glances from that al-seing Eye.    

THE VI SYMBOL. THE DEW.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Dews are the sugared stillicids of Nature, 
The Impresa  falling from the Limbeck of the Heavens, as so many liquid pearls, and every pearl as precious as the truest Margarits. They are liquifyed Crystal, made into so many siluer-orbs as drops. They are the very tears of Nature, dissolved & soft through tenderness, to see the Earth so made a Libyan Desert, which she supplies of mere compassion with the ruin of herself. No tear she sheds, that stands her not in as much, as a drop of her dearest blood. They are the grain & seed, once reaped from the Ocean fields, and sown again upon the Earth, for a better harvest. They are the sweaty drops of Tethis face, which the benign Sol exhales & wipes away for the use of Tellus. They are the Mamna of Nature, to vie with those Corianders, food of Pilgrims, made by Angels: with this unhappiness, they could not be congealed, to make a food so much for men, as a Nectar for the plants to drink. They are the Protheus of fresh waters, diversifying into as many colours, as they light upon; and are so courtly withal, as they will easily comply with every thing they meet with; and likely seem to put-on the form, the garb, and qualities of every one: so as I verily believe, had they but tongues to speak, they would say the same with every one, that can so temporize with al. And as the showers were wrung and drawn from Magdalen through contrition of her sad and cloudy hart: so these Dews are wrung and strained from heaven, through compression and mutual collision of the clouds. The Bees are the most laborious and industrious Factours for these Pearls; and they will venture for them, as far into the air, as any Moor shall dive into the seas for the best pearls. In fine, they are the Milk of Nature, wherewith she is disposed to suckle creatures at her own breast.   

THE MORALS.  ROAR MADENS, ROAR LIQVESCENS. 
THE sweats of that great Monarch, 
The Motto.  were held to be perfumes; and why? Perhaps because they took some Deity to be in him, for his so strange and prodigious Conquests. The trees that have a gummy & viscous lickour in them, look what they have within, the same they oft put forth; and if they sweat at all, they sweat but gums. The Spouse, when he knocked so long at his Spouses door, and could not be let in, was all wet with Dews from heaven; and no marvel, that Dews should fall on him, from whom all Dews proceed; since Dews exhaled from the earth, do thither distil again. When the Saviour of the world was borne, arose a Spring of oil, to signify the infused Oil of Grace was then poured forth into the world. And what is Oil in drops, but Dews of oil? and what is it to spring, but to ascend upwards? what to Dew, but to spring down? Our Saviour then being Oil of Grace, was dissolved all into Dews of graces, when he was borne. In this, look what the Son was, the same the Mother is, with this difference, He the Fountain of Grace and Mercy essentially the same, she the fountain likewise, but participant of his; and as He through her distils down Dews of Grace and Mercy: so she from him distils the selfsame Dews of Grace and Mercy; and therefore rightly ROAR MADENS, ROAR LIQVESCENS.   

THE ESSAY.  
HERE now, 
The Re●iew.  must I needs confess mine ignorance; for otherwise should I lose myself, in considering of the one side, the account which GOD and Nature make of the Dew; and of the other, the poornes of this little creature in itself. The voice of men, that set it forth, is more rich and copious far, than what soever is in the Dew ilself; it is but even a little fume, and oftentimes an unwholesome exhalation raised from some corrupt marshes or other, drawne-up to the second stage of the Air (being the Matrice as it were of Nature, whence hayls, snows, frosts, and the like proceed) if it arrive so high; where being dissolved, and recollecting itself, within a little after thickens and turns into little tears, which falling down again, affords us nothing but a mere Serens infected, and breeds often very mortal catharres, lighting on our heads. See now a trim and goodly thing, for us to make such reckoning of. And yet how many treasures do I see enclosed within these little drops, within these grains of Crystal liquifyed? What think you then, is it ought else, than a little water? Oh, do no think so of it; for if Pliny say true, that the Dew takes the quality of the thing it lights on, that which to you seems to be a water only, is Sugar in the Reeds of Madera, Hippocras in the vine, Manna in the fruits, Musk in the flowers, Medicines in the Simples, Amber in the Poplers, the very milk of the breasts of Nature, wherewith she nourisheth the Vnivers. The Dew it is which falling on our gardens, empearls them with a thousand musky gems: Here it makes the Rose, there the Flower deluce; here the Tulips, there the violets; and a hundred thousand flowers beside. It is the Dew, that covers the rose with scarlet, that clothes the lily with innocence, the violets with purple, which embroders the marigold with gold, and enriches all the flowers with gold, silk, and pearls, that metamorphosies itself, here into flowers, there into leaves, and then to fruits in sundry sorts; it is even the Protheus and Chamaeleon of creatures, clothing itself with the livery of all the rarest things; here scarlet, there milk, here the emerald, the carbuncle, gold, silver, and the rest.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
But now come we to the mystical Dew indeed, 
The Survey.  the Incomparable Lady & Queen of all the Meteors of this Region of ours, or of the other, the thereal or Celestial. Who if she were not the Dew itself, she was the Fleece all steeped in Dew, and consequently may well be held for Dew; for she is said to be full of Grace, which is a kind of Dew. The Dew is properly engendered in the spaces and regions of the Air, tempered with heat and cold. Three Regions there are: The Heavens, the World, and Hel. This Dew of Grace, was not engendered in the upper Region, that is, in Heaven; nor was the work of the Incarnation of CHRIST effectually wrought therein, because he assumed not the Angelical nature: He apprehended not the Angels; 
2. Pet 2.  Nor beneath, that is, in Hell: because he redeemed not Devils, or spared them, or showed mercy to them: God pardoned not the Angels sinning; 
Gal. 4.  But it was engendered in the midst, that is, the Incarnation was wrought in this middle Region. because therein the Divine hypostastis assumpted human nature to itself. God sent his Son made of a woman. Now was this Deawing or Incarnation made, as I said, of hot & cold. For God vouchsafed to become Man, for two respects, that is, out of abundance of charity, of the one side, which was excessive heat, and out of a general misery of ours, which was a kind of benumbing cold. From this heat therefore, to wit, from this Charity of GOD, and from this cold, the general misery of mankind, was wrought roration or Deawing, that is, the Incarnation of the Son of God; with this only difference, that there, was a temperate heat and cold together, but here a heat, 
Ephes. 2  with a great excess, through his too much charity, wherewith he loved us, and a great frigidity of languour in us, 
Psal.  or a languishing frigidity: Because all have declined, and are become unprofitable.  
Moreover, this roration or Dew we speak of, was made in our Virgin-earth, who being watered with Celestial Dew, brings forth the Nazaraean flower, that saith of himself: I am the flower of the field. Again: Let flow thy speech like Dew, and as drops upon the grass. To which the Church alluding saith: Let him descend into the Virgin's womb like Dew therein. 
●see 14.  This earth therefore so moistened and watered with Dew, produced the Lily of Paradise. I the Dew of Israel budding like the Lily. This Israel is interpreted a man seeing God, and here signify our incomparable Lady, who was truly Masculine in all her actions, beholding, as it were, the Divine Essence, through Contemplation.  
I will now then marvel no more, that GOD leaving all other creatures, should take complacency as he doth to be the Father of Deawes, the Scriptures saying: Who begat the drops of dew? 
job 38.  and who is the Father of rain? You would say, he meant that there is nothing, which better represents the Divine generation of the Son, which is begotten of the Father by way of Understanding; from whence as from a fruitful cloud, distils the Divine Dew of the Word: Let my word flow like dew. But for the Incarnation itself, it seems to be just the very same. For the Sun of the Divinity therein united to the little poor vapour of our mortality hath fertilizd this beautiful Paradise of the Church, the Dew watering the same, which fell from the Five Wounds of JESUS, that dewy cloud suspended in the air, and hanging on the tree of the Crosse.  
Hence it is, that GOD makes so great account of this Dew; for when he would make a feast for his people, in the wilderness, he did it by means of the Dew, which was then converted into Manna, and Manna virtually into all meats. And if GOD would make him a chamber all of gold, or a cabinet for himself, surely he would choose the Dew to be his house: Who puts the clouds his bower etc. 
Psal.  God makes as exact esteem of a simple drop of Dew, as of all the world beside. Before thee (saith Solomon) is the whole world as a drop of morning-deaw. You wonder now at a small matter; but I will tell you yet a thing more strange, which is, that since the Son GOD of a little grain of mustard says: The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustardseed etc. me thinks, I might say as well: The kingdom of heaven is like to a drop of Dew: For the Saviour of the world, who is the grain of mustardseed, is likewise this same rich drop of Dew. For as the Son of God in outward appearance was, as it were, no body, nor seemed to make any show, yet when the Sun of the Divinity once began to appear in him, he showed himself to be the virtue of Paradise, even so a little drop of Dew falling from the heavens, for example, on the Flowerdeluce, would seem perharps to you but a little round point of water, and a mere grain of Crystal, but if the Sun do but shine upon it, Ah! what a miracle of beauty it is? while of the one side it will look like an Orient-pearl, and being turned some other way, becomes a glowing Carbuncle, than a Saphir, and after an Emerald, and so an Amethyst, and all enclosed in a nothing, or a little glass of all the greatest beauties of the world, that seem to be engraved therein; so many drops, so many Orient-pearls, so many drops of Manna, wherewith the Heavens seem to nourish the earth, and to enrich Nature, as being the Symbol of the Graces, wherewith GOD doth water and fertilise our souls.  
For what should that Flcece of Gedeon signify, but the Grace of graces, the admirable grace of the Incarnation of Christ to be wrought in the conception of the Divine Word, in the virginal womb or fleece of the said Gedeon, which was replenished with the Dew of the holy-ghost, in lieu of the very Dew; that is, where descended the fullness of the Divinity, she being worthily called and compared to a fleece, since she hath clothed the true Lamb of God with her flesh, who takes away the sins of the world? O Virgin worthy of all grace! How art thou graced indeed, and favoured above all the Daughters of jerusalem! since thy head, JESUS CHRIST, came so to thee, full of Dew, and reposes in thy chaste bower?   

THE EMBLEM.  

Benedicta inter mulieres. lucae. c. i.    

THE POESY.  
NOt like a dusky cloud, 
The Pause.  which Sol exhales,  
Nor like a gloomy mist, that shrouds the vales:  
But from the Earth, the Sun of justice drew  
A purer vapour, which dissolved the Dew,  
Distilling from the Limbeck of the skies,  
Our dry & barren Earth doth fertilise.  
The barren womb erst was accursed; but she,  
Though Virgin, was a fair & fruitful tree.  
Women bring forth with painful throbs & throws;  
She was a Mother, but not one of those.  
Mongst women blessed, drawn by heavens radiant beams,  
'twixt cloud & mist, pure Dew 'twixt both extremes.   

THE THEORIES.  
COnsider first, that as Eve our first Parent and Mother of us all, was not created immediately of earth, 
The Contemplation.  as Adam was, but taken from his rib (it being a privilege only due to Adam, so to be framed of virgin-earth) and was therefore called Virago, fetching her extraction as it were a Viro: So our second Eve, our Spiritual and Celestial Mother, adopting us, & engendering us as children, through the Dews of Celestial graces procured us from heaven, was not made of virgin-extraction herself, that is, was not framed of the Divine or Angelical nature, as a Dew exhaled from the virgin-element of waters, but of the pure human nature, as drawn from the mixed, bitter, and brackish waves of the Sea, by that great Architect of heaven, the Sun of justice, giving her the name of MARIA, to wit, a mari amaritudinis, as it were, fetched from the Ocean of bitterness of human kind. And now with her graces and favours, as Dews falling from heaven, perpetually doth nothing, but shower down upon her children and Devotees.  
Consider then, how our Lady became as a marine Coucha, or Oyster of the Sea, which opens itself to receive the heavenly Dew into her Lap, that so the precious Gem might be engendered in it, which when it hath received once, it closeth up again, not to lose so precious a depositum, till it be fairly delivered, and brought forth in time prefixed. Even so our incomparable Lady, the precious vessel of so heavenly and Divine a Dew, having once conce aved the same within her virginal Womb, retires herself into her Nazareth, to ruminate on the mystery she had within her, until necessity drew her to Bethleem and the time prefixed of the delivery of her fruit was come; for then as purely as she received it, she gave it up most perfect and complete, and made thereof a rich present to the world.  
Ponder lastly, how the Dew being a mere extract from the Seas, exhaled by the virtue of the Sunny rays, which when he can hold no longer, lets it fall to comfort and refresh all fublunarie things, and drawing it again unto himself, lets it fall again for the same end; and so will do, to the end of the world, for the comfort and solace of mankind. So the humanity of our Saviour Christ, as a watery Dew, being extracted from the virgin Marie (amaro mari) and through the Sunny rays of the Divinity assumpted up to heaven in the glorious Ascension, through love not able to stay any longer, descends again in the blessed Sacrament, to recreate and refresh us Mortals, & so as often as we desire, is ready to visit us with his supercelestial and divine Dew, and thus till the consummation of the world.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Thou great Lady, Mother of grace and mercy, 
The Coll●quie.  who in a strange and marvellous manner hast been replenished with the Dew of grace in a sovereign degree; I beseech thee, intercede for me, that I may likewise be replenished & filled with grace, fervour, love, and the Divine delights of thy Son, whom thou receivedst from heaven as the Dew fallen into thy virgin-lap. And this I beg O blessed virgin-Mother, through the virginal milk, wherewith thou fedst that little great GOD in person; and by the tears of joy thou sheadst for the dear embraces of so great a Son of thine; and by all the sweetnesses of his Divinity, which made thy blessed soul to liquify with joy. O Lady, O virgin-Mother, O my sweet Advocate, to thee do I recurre to impetrate these grates for me, at his hands, who sitting on thy lap, and hanging at thy breasts, can deny thee nothing.    

THE VII. SYMBOL. THE BEE.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THe Bee is that great little Architect of houses made of wax, 
The, Impresa.  as of plaster of Paris, all cement, and no stone, while you find not a stone or rub in all his works. He is a great Engineer in that mould, working his subtle mines till he be all in a sweat, which in truth is no more than a moisture he hath with him through his so much paddling, and meddling with dews. It is a world to see, what mines and countermines they will make amongst them, to supplant one another, whereupon many suits of law arise between them. For you must know, they have a notable government, and a wise and politic reason of State with them, which though it may seem to partake of all, yet is in truth a pure Monarchal rule, and surely the best. As the Venetians have their Duke or Doague, they have their King, enthroned doubtless and invested with a more absolute authority than he, and yet not apt to slide or degenerate to Tyranny, as some would imagine. And if the Venetians have their Senate and Magnificoes, they have the same. The King for sword of justice, hath his sting, which he wears for terror rather than use, whose best arms is a certain sweet and serene Majesty with him, which makes him loved rather then feared, if not feared for love: yet were any so refractory as not to love so sweet a Majesty, he could tell, how to bend the brow. He is then the great dictator above all, and true Augustus Caesar of that great Common wealth of little Romans. The Bee of all others makes his vintage in the Spring, because his chiefest harvest is ●n the sugared dews, that fall upon the tender blossoms, at that time, whereof part they ton up in pi●●es, for the purpose, to brew their mead with, against the winter; and churning the rest as handsome as they may, they make it into a kind of butter, ●e call honey, which they crock and barrel up for greatest merchandise. They are but Pigmies, in ●espect of the Giants amongst them, whom for their sundering voice, they call humble-bees. Nor can you ●now the rest by their voices only, while the least ●il carry as great a horn about him, as the biggest ●f them. They are notable husbands abroad, and ●ood huswives at home; for so they are both, or ●either, as hanieg no sex amongst them; ●hich if they have, they are Maids, or Bachelors every one, because they have no marriages with them, as living very chastely together like so many Angels.   

THE MORALS.  OPEROSA ET SEDULA. 
LAbour and Industry are Brother & Sister, 
The Motto.  dwelling in the same house. He is strong and robustuous with Atlas' shoulders; She as quick and nimble of the other side. It is incredible, what these two are able to do, when they join together; they will work wonders, move mountains, and run through stitch with every thing. Rome indeed was not built on a day, but yet with labour and industry in short time became the Metropolis of the whole world. What a work was that, which the infamous Incendiary, to eternize his name, ruined in a moment, which Labour and Industry had reared-up from the very foundation to the roof? The great Mausoleas, Amphitheatres, Pyramids (and what not?) have all been built and finished by them. If Labour once fail, Industry anon rouzer him up: and then will they roundly fall to their wor●● as fresh as ever. Wheresoever they meet, he is the Body, and she the Soul; and as the Body and Soul● can not be divided without ruin of the person, 〈◊〉 Labour without Industry is no body, and will presently come to nought. The Grace of the Holie-Ghos● wheresoever it is, is Industry itself, and knows 〈◊〉 delays; it is as gunpowder set on fire, which carries the bullet, though of lead, more swift than an arrow where it goes. The tender Virgin-Mother of God had ●his powder of Industry in her, when conceiving with fire, through the match of Fiat, she flew so nimbly over hills and dales to her Cousin Elizabeth, the subject of Charity; wherein truly she showed herself OPEROSA ET SEDULA.   

THE ESSAY.  
The Bee is the greatest Politic in the world; 
The Review.  the government of their little commonwealth is most admirable. The King is he that hath the best prensence with him, & a Royal look; all his subjects obey him with submission & reverence, not doing any thing against their oath of allegiance. The King himself is armed with Majesty and beauty; if he have a sting, he never makes use of it, in the whole manage of his estate. He carries nothing but honey in his commands; one would not believe the great severity and courtesy there is amongst them, living in community, with good intelligences abroad, all goes with them with weight and measure, without error or mistake. In the winter they keep wholly within, not knowing otherwise how to defend themselves from the force of the weather and violence of the winds, & hold their little assemblies, in some place deputed for that effect, and keep correspondencies one with another; but for the drones and idle bees, they banish them quite from their commonwealth. They commit not themselves to the discretion of the weather abroad, until such time as the beans begin to blow, and from that time they will lose no day from labour. They frame the wax from the juice which they suck from flowers, herbs, and trees; and for honey they derive it also from trees & gommie reeds, having a glue and viscous lickour on them. They will make their wax likewise of every herb and flower; save only, they never light on a dead or withered one. Their sting is fastened in their belly; and when they stick it so, as they cannot draw it forth again without leaving the instrument behind, they die of it; and if the sting remain but half, they live as castrat, and become as drones, not being able to gather either honey or wax.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
THE mellifluous Doctor S. Ambrose, 
The Survey.  in his sweet book of Virgins, saith: the Bee feeds of the dew, engenders not at all, and frames the honey. Which three properties peculiarly and singularly appertain to Virgins; but most expressly and sublimely of all to the Sacred Virgin herself, the Queen of Virgins. For as all other creatures live of the earth or water, as birds, beasts, and fishes, some few excepted, to wit, the Camaeleon of the air, and the Salamander of the fire; the Bee, as a choicer creature, more curious than the rest, feeds no worse than of the dew, that falls from Heaven; and whereas all other creatures (not bred of putrefaction) are subject to libidinous heat in their kinds, the Bee is free thereof, and multiplies by a way more chaste; and where other creatures are wholly maintained at their master's charge, and some will eat you more than their bodies are worth, or their labour comes to, the Bee makes its own provision of itself, and leaves his owner rich with the booty and spoil they make of the flowers of the field, without any cost or charge of the Master; so industrious they are, to the great confusion of men. Just so our Lady, not taken with the baits and allurements of this world, for spiritual life, lived not but of the heavenly dew of Divine grace; being capable of no other heat, then of the chaste and amorous fire of Divine Love; not conceiving Fruit, but by an admirable, mysterious, and miraculous way, through the work of the holy-ghost, remaining a Virgin before, in, and after her Childbirth; and lastly framed without any cost or merits of ours, that Honey of honeys, that Honie-comb distilling, which carries the honey in his lips.  
The honey indeed is engendered in the air through the favour and influence of certain stars; as in the Canicular days, we may note betimes in the morning, the leaves to be charged and sugared with it. Such as go forth at that time, before day, shall find themselves to be moistened therewith, which the Bees suck from the leaves and flowers, and tunne-up in their little stomaches, to discharge again, and to make it perfect honey in all points, for the use of men. So our incomparable Virgin receiving this Dew or honey of the Eternal Word, as it came from Heaven, into her Virginal womb, so wrought it in her, as being delivered thereof, it proved a honey most apt for the use of man; the true Bread of Life indeed. Most happy Bee! and a thousand times most blessed HONEY!  
Where it is to be noted, that Bees are exceedingly delighted with these things: first, with fair & serene weather; for then those dews more plentifully fall & are more delicious: and of the contrary in the rainy & more boisterous weather they are wholly hindered from their vintage, as it were, or gathering those sugared dews. Secondly, they are pleased much with abundance of flowers; from whence they gather their purest honey; for though the dews fall upon the leaves, and they gather it no doubt from them also, yet is it not so delicious and pure; for the nature of dews participats much of the places they light on, which makes the Bee far more busy and industrious on the flower, then on the leaves. Thirdly, they are won with a sweet sound. For Aristotle saith, they are exceedingly alured with the harmony of music and sweet sounds; which we ordinarily practise now adays, to stay them with, when they are in a great consult to take their flight and be gone; for then with the striking of a pan only instead of other music are they brought to settle themselves near home; so Musical they are. And lastly, they joy greatly insweet wine, as we find by experience and daily practice, as often as they begin to swarm, & are now on the wing and point to travel into foreign parts.  
All these things the Blessed Virgin was exceedingly affected to, and had them all, as it were, within her; as first a serenity in the internal conscience, where appeared no cloud in the air of her Mind, and where the pacifical Solomon sat peacefully indeed as in his ivory Throne. All the glory of the King's daughter, was wholly within her. Then had she the flowers of all Virtues and Graces within her, to wit, the diversities of all virtues, the lilies of chastity, the blush and molestie of the rose, the hope of the Violet, the charicie and Divine love of the Heliotropion, and the like. Her soul was a Garden of all flowers, and no less than a Paradise, which had the Archangel as Paranimph & Guardian thereof, with the two-edged sword of Humility and the chaste Fear of God. O delicious Paradise, and more than terrestrial, even when she was dwelling on the earth! Thirdly she was affected to Music, and very rare and singular therein, as appears by that excellent and melodious Canticle of hers, the Divine Magni●●at, so chanted now adays in the world, and taken-up in the Church, for an admirable piece of that Art, to vie with the Angels, the Cherubins, and Seraphins themselves, to frame the like. Nor yet was she so pleased, to hear herself sing only, as to listen to her Spouse, the voice of her beloved knocking and saying: My sister, open unto me; to whom she would answer again: Behold, my beloved speaks unto me. Oh let thy voice still sound in mine ears! and a thousand other affects of her Musical hart would she daily sing beside to the Angelical troops, which environed her round. And lastly for her love to wine, that is, to the Angelical Nectar, she was daily feasted with, of spiritual gladness, as tastes before hand, of her future joys, which might appear by the quantity she took of those wines, and the quality again by the frequent ecstasies of love she would break into, remaining in her Closet, as we may piously believe, being inebriated therewith.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
TO Bethlem's silly shed, 
The Pause.  me thinks I see  
The Virgin hasten like a busy Bee;  
Which in a tempest subject to be blown,  
In lieu of ballast, bears a little stone;  
As 'twere with oars beats to and fro his wings,  
Collects heaven's dew, which to the hive he brings.  
Within that store-house lies the daily frait.  
Le's fall the stone, Even so of greater weight,  
Cut without hands, the Virgin now is gone  
To lay the prime and fundamental stone,  
Heaven's Dew condensed was in the honie-comb.  
She was the Bee, the Hive her Sacred Womb.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  how little soever the Bee seems, yet how great its excellencies and eminencies are; and measure not the singular properties it hath, with the outward show it gives forth. For though it seem no more indeed, then as raised but a little higher than an ordinary fly; yet is it a miracle in nature, an astonishment to men, and a lively Symbol of our Blessed Lady; who being so singular and eminent in all prerogatives and graces, Celestial and Divine, made no greater a show, than she did in being so private in her Closet or Oratory, where she was, as a Bee, in her Celestina a-framing the delicious honey of her admirable examples of life, to sweeten the world with, for after-ages. Where you may note her stupenduous humility, that seeing herself elected the Mother of God, and consequently the Queen of Angels and men, yet held herself to be no more then as a serviceable Bee, to work the precious honey of Man's Redemption, in her Virginal Womb, when she said: Behold the handmaid of our Lord.  
Consider then, that as one of the properties of the Bee is, when it is on the wing, and fears to be carried away with the winds of the air, to take up a stone, to keep itself steady therein, through the poise thereof: So our blessed Virgin, in her highest contemplation of heavenly mysteries, which was frequent and ordinary with her, would take herself to her little jesus, the mystical stone (for Christ was a Stone) for fear of being carried away with the wind of vanity; 
S. Paul  she would fly and soar aloft, but yet hold her to her little Nothing, which she ever took herself to be. O admirable humility of our incomparable and industrious Bee!  
Ponder lastly, that if the Bee is so admired for its singular jousts of Continency, of Policy, and Industry, and especially so affected by all men for the benefit of the honey they receive from it; how admirable needs must the blessed Virgin be? so chaste, as to be the first, and only pattern of all Chastity, both Virginal, Conjugal, and Vidual; so wise, politic, & wel-governed in herself, to have Sensuality so obedient to Reason, and Reason to GOD, as to have no deordination in her, either of the inferior to the superior part; and so industrious withal, as to work so exquisite a loom of all Perfection, as well Human as Angelical, in the whole course of her divine life. Yea how ought she to be honoured and worshipped of us all, for the Celestial & Divine fruit she brought us forth, that mellifluous Honey of the Divine Word Incarnate and made Man in her most precious and sacred Womb?   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Great Monarkesse and Princess of intercession in heaven, 
The Colloquy  most constant and immoveable in thy Virginal purpose, who hadst rather not to have been so great in the kingdom of God, then to falsify thy promise & vow of perpetual Virginity, if in being the Mother of God, the same had been put in the least danger: O help me then to guard this inestimable treasure of Chastity in my state of life! by that sweetest Honie-comb thou hredst within thee, and brought'st into the world, thy dearest Son. Ah, let me not be perfidious, disloyal, or a breaker of my faith, nor rash in my good purposes made to His Divine Majesty. For that, O sovereign Lady, displeases him highly, and offends thee likewise, dear Princess of Virgin-soules.    

THE VIII. SYMBOL. THE HEAVENS.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Heavens are the glorious Palace of the Sovereign Creator of all things; 
The Impresa  the purple Canopy of the Earth, powdered over and beset with siluer-oes; or rather an Azure Vault enamelled all with diamonds, that sparkle where they are. And for that there is aloft above this ceiling, they make a paviment likewise for the Intelligences and Angelical Spirits, strewed, as become such inhabitants, with stars. It is a Court, where those blessed Spirits, as Pensioners, stand continually assisting in the King's presence, with the favour to behold him to face in his greatest glory, while the Stars as Pages attend in those spacious Hals & lower rooms. If all together, should make up the body of an Army ranged and marshaled in the field, the Spirits themselves would make the Cavalry, and the Infantry the Stars, S. Muhael General of the one, and Phoebus of the other; where even as the Foot, that are as the Corpse of the whole Batallions, make a stand; so remain the whole multitude of Stars all fixed in the Firmament, while the Planets, which are as the Colonels of the rest, with the speedy Coursers of their proper Orbs, fly up and down to marshal the Legions, and to keep the Companies in their due squadrons. If they shoot, their shafts and darts, they send, are but their influences they pour on mortals and terrene things, good and bad; some sweet, of love; as those which Venus shoots from her Regiment, headed with gold; some with steel, as those of Mars, and his troops; and some again, as more malignant, dipped in venom, as those of Saturn and the Caniculars. As the Earth hath beasts, the Heavens have their Lion and Bear, the great and less. Where the Sea hath fish, the Heavens have theirs, and waters enough, as well above as under the Firmament. As the Air hath birds, the Heavens have Angels, as birds of Paradise. And if the upper Region of the Elements be of fire, the Seraphins are all of amorous fires of Divine love, and the highest order of the blessed Spirits.   

THE MORALS.  CAPACITATIS IMMENSAE. 
THat great Galleass or Argosy of No clapped under hatches the Epitome of the world; 
The Mott●.  which yet virtually contained that vast volume or tome of the greater World. The Trojan horse held a whole Ambuscado in his belly of warlike Grecians in complete armour. Yea the Eye of man, though de facto it reach no farther than the Hemisphere only, yet of itself is able to extend to the full immensity of the whole Sphere, were it placed as Centre thereof, But that were to make the Heavens the visible Object of the Eye only: I will then go further. The Hart of man as it is, how little soever, if it be well purged, is able to walk through the heavenly vaults, both above and beneath; I mean, contemplate the Stars and Spirits themselves, with the immense capacity of that waist dwelling of theirs. But what were all this but a mere extension and perlustration of the mind only, wholly occupied in measuring Intellectual Objects? It is the Local continency, I mean, as the kernel is contained in the shell, and the like. I say that great Amphitheatre of Pompey was but a nutshell, as it were, of so many sons of men, compared with the Globe of the Earth, and the earth with the Zodiac of the Sun, and the Sun again being paralleled with GOD himself. It is GOD only, who truly beholds all Objects, both Intellectual and Visible; and truly contains them all, being present to all, comprehends all, is All in Al. And yet this great ALL, whom the Heaven of Heavens can not contain, hath the Virgin-Womb of the immaculate Mother of God conceaned and held in her lap, as the Church sings; an therefore is said to be, and that most rightly, and worthily too, CAPACITATIS IMMENSAE.   

THE ESSAY.  
THe Heavens with their circuit, 
The Review.  cloth and mantle all the world, & with the sweetness of their influences nourish the same, and distil a life into it. They are the House of GOD; the floor and paviment of Paradise; the Garden of the Angels, all beset with stars instead of flowers, with an eternal Spring; the Temple of the Divinity; and the azured Vault of the Vnivers. The number of the Heavens hath not always been agreed upon; for one while they believed, there was but one only, wherein the stars did sweetly glide here and there, and glance along, as in a liquid crystal flood. Sometimes have they allowed of eight, by reason of so many diverse Motions and Agitations very different in them; then nine; then ten, and then eleven; and if perhaps some new Gal●laeus should devose and frame us other spectacles or opticons to see with, we are in danger to find out yet some new Stars and Heavens never dreamt of before. This round Machine makes its circular revolutions through an unspeakable swiftness. But that is a mere tale, which Plato tells, to busy men's brains with, to say, the Stars and Heavens yield a sound or delicicus melody through their motion and stirring up and down; whereas truly the sweet sliding and shuffling of the Heavens, the accords so discordant of contrary motions, those sweet conjunctions and divorces of Stars, is it truly which is called, the sweet harmony of the Heavens. They would likewise make us believe, the Heavens were all engraved over, because the Zodiac is composed and distinguished into twelve Figures of Beasts, therein cut, as with a chisel; and the whole Figure and face of Heaven were as fully stocked with beasts, carved and fashioned so to beautify the Heavens; and therefore will some have Caelum to take its denomination from caelatum, as much to say, as carved and engraved; But in effect, are nothing else but certain assemblies and congregations of Stars together, which the fantasies of men hath fashioned in Figures and Constellations; which being so taken, resemble some kinds of beasts, but in truth have so small resemblance with them, as that which they call a Bear, might as well be termed an Ape; and Necessity makes us to accept it for good coin, and GOD himself with job makes use of such manner of speech, in naming them Orion, the Hyadeses, and the like. This great Bowl of the Heavens, rolls and turns about an Axletree, fixed in a certain place, and flies with the winged swiftness it hath; the Angel gives it the whirl about, and makes it turn round according to the Divine providence, crowning the world with its vaulted Arch enamelled all with stars.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
Thus are the Heavens expressed in themselves; 
The Survey▪ ●arth. Angl. l. 8. c. 2.  and now let us seek another Heaven, these ancients never dreamt of. One Author divides the Heavens into seven parts; the Aërean, Aetherean, Olympian, Fiery, Firmamental, Watery, and Empyreal. But we will content ourselves with these three only, the Syderean, the Cristalin, and Empyreal. And for the first, we shall find our Queen of Heaven to be so the Queen thereof, as she is a Syderean or Starry Heaven herself, if we regard but the ornaments she is decked with, as so many stars. For as that Heaven is adorned with variety of Stars; so she with diversity of all Virtues. The beauty of Heaven, 
Eccl. 4●.  to wit, of Marie, is the celestial glory of the Stars, that is, the glorious variety of all Virtues. For as for the ornaments of this Heaven, it is said in the apocalypse: She had a crown of twelve stars upon her head. 
Apoc. 12.  Now in this number of Twelve is a double number of Six, which is the number of Perfection, and signify the Saints, as well those which are in glory & Celestial Paradise, as those, who are as yet on their way thither; who all honour, crown, and adore this blessed Virgin, as their Queen and Lady. For as the Heaven with its proper Orb and certain revolutions, carries all the moving stars along with it, so she induceth all the Saints, to join in intercession with her.  
The Crystalline Heaven she is, being a Heaven as composed of the waters above the heavens; which is hardened, as it were, & made solid, like Crystal; the matter being nothing else but waters hardened and condensed, as some think, not much unlike to the crust of Crystal, which is solid, lucid, and most pure: And so the waters of our Lady were solid, that is, her Virtues were confirmed; and lucid, that is, transparent, because through them she might contemplate and behold the glory of GOD; 
1. Cor. 3.  according to that: But we with face revealed, shall speculate the glory of GOD. The form of this Crystalline Heaven, is Spheral and round, which is truly the most Capacious, the Perfectest, and Fairest of all figures; & so is she most Capacious, as becomes the habitation of GOD, according as the Church delivers: Whom the Heavens could not contain, hast thou held in thy Womb; the Perfectest, because endued with all virtues: 
Eccl. 24.  In me is grace, of the way & verity; most Fair, because stained with no blot, nor ever touched with any blemish, so much as Venial: Thou art wholly fair, my friend, 
Cant.  and there is no blemish in thee.  
She is the Empyreal Heaven, which is the habitation of the Saints, and a Heaven all of light, of an infinite capacity, and immense sublimity. The blessed Virgin then is resembled to this Heaven: First, for her unspeakable clarity, because she is now wholly radiant and resplendent in Celestial glory, having beneath, the Moon under her feet, and on her head, a crown of Stars, & for the rest clothed with the Sun. Secondly, for her great capaciousnes; for as there can be thought no place of greater capacity, than the Empyreal Heaven, so can no creature be found of greater Charity, then Marry. For she had an ample Womb, which was able to receive GOD; She had an ample Understanding, which had the knowledge of all Divine things; an ample Affect she had, for her singular compassion on the miseries of all the afflicted. Thirdly, for her highness and sublimity; for as Heaven is the highest of all bodies, so is she higher far than all Spiritual creatures, as well Angelical as Reasonable. Thy magnificence is raised, 
Psal.  that is, the Virgin Marie, to whom GOD hath showed very great things, yea above all the Heavens, as well Material as Rational, because appointed Queen over all Saints; and therefore says of herself: Who hath wrought great matters for me▪ who is potent▪ and holy is his name.  
Which things S. Epiphanius considering, in his Sermon of the Praises of our Lady, 
Epip. in laud. Mariae.  breaks forth into these words▪ O impolluted Womb, having the circle of the heavens within thee, which bore the incomprehensible GOD most truly comprehended in thee? O Womb more ample, than Heaven, which straightened not GOD within thee! O Womb▪ which art even very Heaven indeed, consisting of seven Circles, and art more capacious far than them all O Womb more high and wider▪ then are the seven Heavens! O Womb, which are even the eight Heaven itself, more large than the seven of the Firmament. So he. And S. Chrysologus thus: 
Cherisoh. Ser. 11s.  O truly blessed, who was greater than Heaven, stronger than the Earth, wider than the World! For GOD, whom the world could not contain, She held alone; and bore him, that bears the world; yea bare him, who begat her, and nursed the nourisher of all living things. But yet hear what S Bonaventure saith hereof: 
Bonau. in spec. c. 50.  Thou therefore (saith he) most immense Marie, art more capacious than Heaven, since whom the Heavens could not hold, thou hast held in thy lap; thou art more capacious than the World: for whom the whole world could not hold, hath been enclosed within thy bowels, being made Man.  
But especially indeed is the blessed Virgin said to be the Empyreal Heaven, because as that same being the proper place of Beatitude, where GOD clearly manifests himself to the Blessed, face to face: so the Womb of the blessed Mother of GOD, was the first of all wherein GOD in a permament manner communicated to the soul of Christ our Lord, the clear and blessed vision of himself; since certain it is, that from the beginning of his Conception, he was truly a comprehensour; and yet in his way, and a true viatour. Which no doubt is a singular praise of the Virginal womb; that, where the wombs of other women are merely the shops of Original sin, as David lamented (And my mother conceived me in sins) which makes one unworthy of the vision of GOD: 
Psal. 50  the Virgin's Womb of all others should be a place for the blessed Vision, and the only first shop of Beatitude. So as well might the Woman of the gospel cry out: Blessed is the Womb, that bore thee.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
THE Blessed Virgin, 
The Pause.  even from her birth,  
Was like a Heaven without a cloud, on earth;  
Where fixed Stars did shine, each in his place,  
As she increased by merits more in grace;  
Till full of grace (as is with stars the sky)  
Gabriel salurtes. Then more to glorify  
This Heaven, from his, the Sun of justice came,  
Light of the world, with his eternal flame.  
Lo, how the Angels from th' Empyreal sphere  
Admire this Heaven on earth, that shines so clear,  
Contesting with their glorious Orb above,  
And with the Seraphins in burning love.  
Empyreal Heaven! For in her makes abode  
The first blessed Soul, that had the sight of GOD.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, that as the Heavens in their motions commit no error, 
The Contemplation.  because they are always obedient to the Intelligences or moving Angels that move and guide them: so likewise the Blessea Virgin could slide into no error of sin, because she punctually observed the holy-ghost, her Motour and proper Intelligence, as it were, in all things; while being moved with such motions, she was carried to GOD through fervent love, as being the wheel of GOD, whereof Ezechiel speaks (Which was carried wheresoever the spirit went; 
Ezech.  for the spirit of life was in the wheels) now in praying for us to her Son, now directing the Angels themselves unto our ministry, and then exhorting the blessed Spirits to pray for us, Behold of what agility and motion this Heaven is!  
Consider then that even as from heaven; and its ●ights, we receive all the chiefest benefits of Nature, especially the growth and prosperity of plants, without which nothing would succeed or come to any thing: so from this glorious Virgin-Mother we likely receive the most notable favours & gifts we have from GOD. For as the Heaven visits the earth, affording its light by day & night, by means of the two great torches, Sun and Moon, and millions of lesser lights, which with their influences beside do fructify the same, and with their sweet showers in a manner inebriate it, and cool it again, when need requires, with drier clouds, yea every it also, with gold, silver, and precious stones: so our incomparable Lady visits and illustrats the whole universal Church with her admirable examples, and with the gifts of the holy-ghost inebriats the same, stores it abundantly with good works, and enriches it with an infinite treasure of all virtues: 
Psal.  and therefore is it said: Thou hast visited the earth.  
Ponder lastly, how among all things which have any stuff, matter, or dimesion in them of length, breadth, or thickness, there is no incorruptible thing to be thought on, but only the heavens; for all mixed things, whatsoever they be, corrupt at last, and the Elements we see continually corrupt; save only the Celestial body, which is wholly incorruptible of its own nature: So in like manner, whenas all the Children of Adam, begot according to Nature, are liable, and obnoxious to the corruption of Original sin; and all women lose in conceaving, the integrity of the body; yet this Heaven of Marie, through especial grace & prerogative of her Son, was made incorruptible, according to either part, of soul and body: Of the soul truly, because the contagion and corruption of Original sin touched not her so much as a moment only; & of body also, because though indeed she were a true & natural Mother, and conceived her Son most truly indeed, yet knew she no corruption at all, observing and keeping perpetually, the Virginity of mind and body. How worthily therefore, is she compared to Heaven for this so strange and admirable incorruptibility in her?   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Great Miracle of the world, 
The Colloquy.  or little world of miracles; not Queen so much of Heaven alone, as the Heaven of the King of thee, Queen & Mistress of the Heavens; thou only masterpiece of the Almighty hand; O Divine Throne, not second unto any; Thou living Ark of Alliance; and the Elder Sister of all creatures, who wast a Mother and a Virgin a Virgin, & a Mother, all in one; a Maiden & a Nurse, a Nurse & yet a Maiden, the Mother and the Nurse of God and Man, a Virgin and a Maid for ever. By that glorious virgin-fruit of thine, the astonishment of Angels, which so miraculously thou brought'st into the world, after thou hadst so long afforded him thy precious Womb, as a gratful and delicious Paradise of Heaven: Grant, we beseech thee, by that shower of grace in Him, which fell through thee, O mysterious Heaven, that we may come at last to that Heaven of his glory, which he hath purchased for us with his more than precious Blood.    

THE IX. SYMBOL. THE IRIS.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Iris is the radiant and refulgent Bow of Heaven, 
The Impresa.  that shoots but wonders to astonish the world with. It is the Thiara, or fairest dress of Nature, her shining Carcanet enchased with the richest jewels. It is the Triumphal Arch of the heavenly Numen, setup in triumph as a Trophy of Beauty, to allure the eyes of all, to stare and gaze upon it. The Protheus of the Seas could never take so many shapes upon him, as the Iris diversifyes its colours. And for the Chameleon of the air, she doubtless used no other pattern than it, to copy forth the great variety of colours she assumes. This Prodigy of Nature, lives in and by the Air, but hath its whole subsistence in the Eye only. Open the eyes, and there it is; but shut them up, and it will vanish. It is indeed the fair and goodly mirror of the heavenly Intelligences themselves, which they will gaze on, as their leisure serves them, and break at their pleasure, if they like it not, to make them new perhaps to please them better. If the Angels would lay aside their wings, and go afoot, I do not think, they could have a better way to descend by, and ascend again, then by this Causeway, paved all with jewels here and there, and where not, all strewed with tapestries; the Turkey ones are nothing like; nor those of Barbary come near them; while those the moths will eat, and time destroy their colours, and they fade; but these, will last till all be quite worn out. They seem all as made by the same hand; they are so like; look what you have to day, the same you have to morrow. And surely no other Artisan than he that made you this, can make you such another. They say, it is a nothing in itself; which if it be, it is a pretty Nothing, that so with nothing should make the heavens so beautiful, nay more, so rich, and all with nothing.   

THE MORALS.  PACIS FERO SIGNA FUTURAE. 
THE Scythian Tamberlan, 
The Motto.  the terror of the House of Ottomans, had in his wars, three Ensigns: the red, the black, and white; which he used to advance upon occasions; whereof the white especially signified Peace & a reconciliation offered; which if refused, the red, & then the black succeeded. Castor and Pollux in the Heavens, are held to be sweet, propitious, and pacifical Stars. The Haltion in time of a tempestuous storm at Sea appearing on the decks, is a comfortable, and little less than a certain sign of a calm and quiet Sea, whereat Mariners will cheer up, as no such thing had ever happened. The Spring immediately follows the bitter and sharp Winter; the signs are the buds appearing then, in the tender and green twigs. When the Lion is in his chiefest rage, and when he roars most dreadfully of all, and for anger beats himself with his tail in mere despite, let come but a tender Virgin, by, the while, and appear in his sight, his courage will fail him, & he be a Lamb in a Lion's skin. The Lion of juda roared then, when the Lord of Hosts, to extirpate human kind, so let go the Cataracts of heaven, to drown the world, with a total deluge of waters covering the earth; when lo, the white flag was spread in the Heavens, in form of an Iris, representing the pure and immaculate Virgin of Virgins, which made the Lion to let fall his crest, and to enter into a league with all mankind, to drown it no more; and therefore our Lady herself was a true Iris, and may rightly be called, and truly is, that PACIS FERO SIGNA FUTURAE.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE Iris or Rainbow is that goodly mirror, 
The Review.  wherein the humane spirit sees very easily its own ignorance, and wherein the poor Philosopher becomes Bankrupt, who in so many years can know no more of this Bow, than this, that he knows nothing to the purpose, & that it is a Noli me tangere; since as many as have mused thereupon, have but broken their brains about it to their own confusion. For of the one side, there is nothing of less being, in the whole portrait of Nature, being framed of a goodly Nothing, diversified and diaperd with false colours, dressed-up with a feigned beauty, the matter nothing, its durance a moment. It is a Bow without an arrow, a bridge without a Basis, a Crescent not increasing, a phantasm of colours; a Nothing, that would fain show to be somewhat. And yet is this rich Nothing a miracle of beauty, among the fairest things of the world, which being compared thereunto, are even as nothing. Would you have riches? The whole Bow is nothing else then the carcanet of Nature, enamelled with all the precious jewels she hath; some are Pearls, others have the sparkle of the Diamant, the flames of the Carbuncle, the twincle of the Saphir; I should say rather it is the masterpiece, wherein Nature had embroidered all her rarest stones, and placed the richest piece of her treasures, which she can sever at her pleasure: It is the Collar of her Order, her chain of pearls, and the fairest of all her Cabinet, wherewith she decks herself, to please her Spouse, the Heavens. Good God what a goodly Nothing is this, if it be no more, that carries such beauty and riches with it? It is said, that great High way of milk, which appears in the heavens, was the way of the Gods, when they went unto the Consistory of jupiter; but it is a fable: whereas I should think, that were there any ordinary way for the Angels to descend down unto the earth by, or for men to mount up to heaven, there could be no fairer than this Bridge always tapistryed, and paved with so beautiful stones.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
GOD himself takes such complacency in the Rainbow, 
The Survey.  that when he is in the highest point of his just choler, if he cast but his eye thereupon, he is suddenly appeased. I will look on my Bow, and will remember &c: saith he. 
Gen.  And no marvel surely; since the Bow, he regards so much, is the Symbol here of his dearest Mother, the Incomparable Virgin.  
Let us see then, how this heavenly Bow deciphers the Queen of Heaven, this mirror of Nature, and the astonishment of mankind. The Generation and extract of any thing discovers it most. This Iris then or rainbow, is caused by the reflection of the Sunny beams, upon a lucid cloud, concave and waterish. Clouds are engendered of the marine vapours or exhalation of the seas, where the vapoural parts of the Ocean are attracted by the virtue of the Sun; which conglomerated together, engender a cloud, when the brackishnes of the Sea-water is turned to sweetness. And so was our Lady a true cloud, since in her were found these marine vapours, that is, incredible tribulations, bitter and brackish of themselves, though to her made sweet, through the force and virtue of Divine Love.. The Sunny beams therefore, that is, the grace of GOD being a ray, as it were, of the Divine Essence, reflecting on the purest Virgin, a lucid cloud, concave and waterish, produced the Iris or Rainbow in the Hierarchy of the Church, as in the firmament of the Heavens; and therefore called the Iris or Celestial Bow, a sign of the Reconciliation of GOD with all mankind. She was concave through humility, and therefore very apt to receive the rays of the Sun of justice, the influence of Divine graces; as she was waterish no less through compassion and piety, because her hart was a Spring, and her eyes as continual-standing pools of tears.  
A bow commonly hath a string, is bend with an arrow in it, and hath the horns converted towards us, as menacing the Foes. Our Blessed Vigin is a Bow indeed, but without the string of severity, because most just; and without menaces and fear, because most sweet; and hath two horns withal, to wit, Grace and Mercy, which she holdeth towards us; while grace she affordeth to the just, and mercy to sinners, and is therefore called the Mother of Grace, and Mother of Mercy.  
Above all, the Rainbow hath its proper subsistence in colour, which it seems to borrow (as Bede saith) of the four Elements. For, of the fire it contracts a ruddy colour; from the water a Cerulean; from the air, the colour of the Hyacinth; and from the earth, the green it hath: all which seem spiritually to be found in our Celestial Bow, the Incomparable Lady; for red she was, being wholly inflamed with the fire of Divine love, which she took from the Divine fire, God being our consuming fire: a fire indeed, that burns and consumes others, but not her; because although she were a bush, and burning too; yet incombustible. She might borrow that colour likewise from her dead Son, as he lay on her lap, being taken from the Cross, all bathed with his precious Blood, which mixed with her fair complexion, might well appear like to flames, in our heavenly Iris.  
She had the Cerulean, which is the colour of the Sea, because she is properly the Star of the Sea, and hath therefore a great correspondency with that liquid Element; and through mere compassion, was become, as it were; all liquid, according to that of the Psalmist: My hart is become as dissolved or liquifyed wax; as well for the abundance of tears she was wont to shed, as the purity of her mind, which made them so limpid and clear.  
She had thirdly the colour of the Hyacinth; which she took, as from the air; since all her conversation was in the air, as it were, abstracted from the earth, or terrene cogitations. She was wholly as the Bird of Paradise, which hath no feet to touch the earth with; & from the time that her Son ascended to heaven, from the mount Olivet, she could do nothing but cast up her eyes thither-wards▪ and so powerfully perhaps contracted that colour▪ through the vehemency of her attention, and application to that object, till her Assumption haply, when she left it by the way in her Bow, to remain for ever, as a sign of her purity.  
But now to conclude with the green, which she took from the earth, what might it be, but a continual Spring of all Graces and Virtues, which she practised on earth? Look into a garden, in that season of the Spring; and whatsoever your eyes can behold truly delicious there, in the greennes of the plots and arbours, both open and close, and in the green-sword allies and banks; your understanding shall be able to parallel and findout her virtuous conversation on earth. For if you consider her green walks, they were all as straight, as garden-walks; for straight were the paths of her whole life. If on the arbours, you shall find her continually in her closet; her plots were nothing else, but how to become more gratful to her Son, her Spouse, her Lord; and those always new & ever green; so as in the garden of her mind, was a perpetual Spring to be seen of all virtues, while she lived amongst us: no marvel then, the green was so dear unto her, to be put into her bow.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
FRom heaven the Father views his Son below  
Upon the Cross, 
The Pause.  as on a cloud a Bow,  
When vapours from the earth exhaled arise.  
The Mother likewise sees with mourning eyes  
Her Son all black & blue, pale, wan, & red,  
Green with a crown of thorns fixed on his head.  
All which reflect, & by reflection die  
The Mother, like a Rainbow in the sky.  
To her for mercy when the Sinner sues,  
The Son his Mother as a Rainbow views,  
That pleads for mercy, to her Son appeals,  
Who signs the Pardon, and his Wounds are Seals.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  that if Nature be able to frame so rare a piece of workmanship as the Rainbow; and that no wit of man can truly comprehend the reason of its form and figure, with the admirable diversity of colours in it, so as among her other works most choice and rare, the same is accounted as a chief miracle in Nature, in the visible Heavens: I imagine the while, what GOD himself is able to do in his works of Grace, being disposed, as it were, to vie with Nature in framing an Iris likewise, in this Heaven of Heavens, to astonish not Mortals only, but the Angels and blessed Spirits themselves, better able to judge of the diversity of colours in her, to wit, the mysteries and graces, wherewith he hath adorned her.  
Consider then, that as the Rainbow of it-self is no more than a mere Meteor in the air, if it be so much, whose whole lustre it takes from the Sun, and vanisheh as soon as he is either in a cloud, or hath his aspect some other way, since it is wholly of him, and so of him, as without him it is nothing: So our Incomparable Virgin-Iris, whatsoever she was of herself, she esteemed as nothing, not so much as a Meteor, as it were, in the Celestial Hierarchy of Heaven, attributing all to the Sun of Glory reflecting his rays so powerfully upon her, to make her appear so glorious as she doth, the most refulgent Bow, or Carcanet of Heaven, the delight of the Angels, and the gracious sign of Reconciliation to Mortals with her only Son, the Sun of justice, whose she is wholly, and ever was.  
Ponder lastly, how as the Rainbow of itself, is nothing else, but exhalations and vapours extract from the Seas, and drawne-up into the air, by the heat of the Sun. So this Iris is the Quintessence, as it were, extracted from the Sea of the generation of Adam, through particular favour and privilege of the Sun of justice, to become first a light cloud, that is, capable of Celestial rays; and then being concaved through humility, to bear him in her womb, and to have the form of a Celestial Bow, enriched with such diversities of all Graces.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
OH specious Iris! 
The Colloquy.  Handmaid of the Sun of justice, in thine own account; and yet esteemed of all the world beside, the glorious Queen of Heaven, and placed as a radiant Iris or Anckour of our hope and reconciliation to GOD thy Son, whose unbent Bow thou art, sure Sign of Peace. Ah then! shall I always live thus? Shall I always walk the labyrinth of the frailties and inordination of my soul, for want of a Clue to guide me forth, and to lead me unto the true love of my GOD, the only Lovely and Amiable above all lovely and amiable things? Shall I always walk thus, by the brinck of Hell, unruly, unmortifyed, curious, sensual, and vain? O my most dear Divine Mother; guard me with the bow of thy safeguard and protection, and make intercession for me, O thou proclaimed Happy through all nations; hear my desires, have pity on my tears, let my sights mount up unto thee. O receive them, I pray, most gracious and auspicious Iris of the Empyreal Heavens.    

THE X. SYMBOL. THE MOON.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Moon is the Dowager, 
The Impresa  and Queen-Regent of the Firmament, that rules that Monarchy by turns with Titan her brother, with this happiness above him, that his government over some of his provinces is found too hot & intolerable, & held as tyrannous; but hers more benign & sweet over al. She is so good, as she seems to spend her whole demeans upon the poor & indigent. And as she is charitable to all, she is even prodigally profuse of the treasure of her influences of on her nearest kin about her, especially Tellus her Sister, more necessitous than stands with her gentle breast, to see her in; and therefore as made for her alone, she seems to apply herself to her only. And to the end she may still have to give, she is still borrowing from her elder Brother new and fresher lights, from the rich Magasin of his greater splendour; whereof she spends so fast, as she is often forced to break and become Bankrupt, and as often by her Brother set afloat again, with a new stock, as brisk as ever. She holds beside very fair correspondences and good intelligence with the Seas, and those so good, as never fail without some prodigy or other. They use to tax her of inconstancy; but they do her wrong; for She is constant still, in that inconstancy of hers, they charge her with; how then inconstant? The spots they note her for, show but how good a glasserepresentative she is, that so figures something, which they call a Man, which I scan not here. She is fair and beautiful, & yealds to none but to the Sun, and that for reverence, and good respects. She is a great riser in the night, which she doth to good purpose, still obliging the whole world through many favours. She is indeed the precious Diamant of the rest of Stars, cut round of the larger size, and sometimes Crescent-wise, as she is pleased to communicate herself, & take away the veil before her face.   

THE MORALS.  BENIGNA ET FACILIS. 
THe Children of Israël indeed, though they acknowledged GOD for the Author and Creator of all things, 
The Motto.  yet not to be dazzled with his glory, were still calling upon Moses to speak to them, and not the Lord. The Kings of China are neverseen to their Subjects, but negotiate their Royal affairs by the trusty hands of their Eunucks about them; and they dispense his favours here and there according to his mind. By them gives he audience to Ambassadors; and by their hands, receives the presents, suits, and requests of all; and gives dispatches by them: and so his Subjects do more sweetly taste his benignities and favours, and seem more freely to communicate with him. The Understanding or Reason hath the common Sense for chief dispenseresse, and the Executive powers for ministers, while all things are not done immediately by himself. Tiberius' had Sejanus as it were his right hand. He that would have a favour at the hands of Alexander, would apply himself straight to his dearest Ephestion, and he was sure to have his suit. Yea the great S. Peter himself, how great soever in his master's favour, would still be pulling of S. john by the sleeve, to put forth his doubts and his requests to his Master for him. And the great Assuerus had his gracious and benign Hester always by his side; who did nothing but communicate the Prince's favours to his people with a pious and prudent hand. This was the Virgin-Mother right, to our great Assuerus indeed; & therefore is she here most truly and aptly styled: BENIGNA ET FACILIS.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE Moon of all others, is a Planet the nearest to the earth, 
The Review.  and most familiar with it. It is the Sun of the night; her course and decourse never fails; her glass is clear according as she looks on the Sun; and sometimes do we see but a certain list, as it were, and Crescent of Silver; sometimes it waxeth again, and makes a demie O or half circle, & then grows it to be wholly orbicular and round; her Argent is always dimmed, with some shadows and certain obscurities, that seem to fashion a face with them. She supplies the defaults of the Sun, and often shines in fellowship with him, and mingles her rays with his, even at midday. The simplicity of Painters herein is discovered, in that ordinarily painting her in company with the Sun, they make her horns, to look to the Sun-wards; wherein truly are they quite mistaken; for the back is it, which is turned to the Sun, and not the horns; for she hath no clarity in her, but that which she borrows of the Sun, presenting him in lieu thereof, her mirror and glass to look upon. She is the Sister of the Sun; and, as I said before, the Sun of the nights, which pierceth the thickness of their darkness, with her silver rays; somewhat moist, and sweetly comforting the tediousness of them, being otherwise gloomy and dark of themselves. A Star she is, that lives but of loan, and hath the visage always upon change: She is the Mistress of the Sea, the Queen of the Night, the Mother of Deawes, the sweet Nurse of the Earth, the Guide of Mariners, the Glass of the Sun, the Companion of his travels, the Guardian of his light, and Depositarian of the day and treasures of the heavens: the second Glory of the firmament, the Empress of Stars, & Regent of this world beneath, where she hath her jurisdiction & demeans. She marks-out the months and years, and the ages, as they run, and through her sweetness tempers the burning heats of her brother the Sun. When she is diametrally set under the Sun, & interposed between him and the earth, she eclipseth him, and robs the earth of the beams of the Sun; and the shadow of the earth of the other side being cast over her, eclipses her, and suffers her not to enjoy the Sunny rays: but the point of the shadow of the earth, not mounting near so high, makes no eclipse at all in the other stars.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
NOw what may this Moon denote and signify to us, 
The Survey. Cant. 5 Eccl. 53 Psal.  but the glorious Queen of Heaven? For she is all fair as the Moon: She is, as the Moon, full in her days: and a perfect Moon, because Her Throne as the Sun in my sight, & as a perfect Moon for ever. She is a Moon therefore, yea far more beautiful than the Moon ever was, or ever like to be. For as the Moon indeed hath her light borrowed, very gracious to behold, but none of her own, being merely a light reverberated from the Sun: So the Virgin truly, though her light be borrowed, and none of her own, as simply hers, yet hers it is indeed, though borrowed of her Son, the Sun of justice, as daughter of the King. For all the glory of the King's daughter is within her &c: not outwardly only in the voice of people, always doubtful, ever uncertain, for the most part undeserved, and of little subsistence and permanency, but intrinsically in her most certain, meritorious, and for ever. Besides, the Moon hath her light often eclipsed, and looseth wholly her light for a time; but the blessed Virgin, though she seemed to be eclipsed, through the vehemency of her sorrow, when she saw her Son so shadowed by a cloud, in the time of his Passion, yet for her constancy of faith she could not be eclipsed so, as to despair of his Resurrection. I will not cease unto the end of the world. 
Eccls 22.  Well might the Apostles fail at that time, but Marie never. Moreover as the Moon is variable and subject to changes, in the light it affords to Mortals (an argument accounted of weakness of brain, 
Eccl. 22.  while the fool, as the Wiseman saith, is changed as the Moon) let us see, what changes & mutabilities they are. One is of the mind, which is often moved through diverse affectinons; another in the body, which is subject to manifold alteration and corruption; an other of fortune, because temporal things are always a flowing or ebbing, a flux or reflux, the loss of guilt and offence which is in sinners, who always are sliding from vice to vice. But our Lady hath all these changes and mutabilities under her feet, since the Moon indeed is placed under her feet; while she always retained the constancy of her mind, and Vow of Virginity; she put on the glory of Immortality on her body; she trampled all terrene and temporal things under foot; and lastly through a singular prerogative was ever privileged from sin. Furthermore, the Moon hath her light all speckled over with little spots: but our blessed Lady had no blemish or spot at all, either in her thoughts, because always pure and immaculate; or in her body, because Angelical. Thou art wholly fair, my friend, And there is no spot in thee. 
Cant. 4.  I say, most fair in cogitations, affections, and intentions; and spotless in al. Oh beautiful Moon, transcending any heavenly Planet or Star in the Firmament, as far in dignity and excellency, as so heavenly a Lady and Queen of Heavens can surpass her Rational, Sensible, or Insensible subjects!  
The Moon is sometimes wholly obscure, sometimes wholly lucid and bright, and sometimes partly obscure, and partly resplendent; wherein it resembles the Virgin right. For the Moon, as S. Augustin saith, is obscured either when it is under a cloud, or when eclipsed, or when renewed, as in the new Moon: So the blessed Virgin in this world, was thrice or three manner of ways obscured. First, through her excessive humility, which was a kind of obscure cloud, that overshadowed her brightness or splendour in the eyes of the world. Black I am but beautiful; as if she had said: 
Cant. 1.  I am outwardly black through humility, but inwardly beautiful in grace and majesty. Secondly, through acerbity and bitterness of sorrow; and this in the Passion of her Son, as I said above, where she suffered an eclipse in the vehemency of her grief. The Sun, that is to say, Christ, shall be turned into darkness through death; and the Moon, to wit, the blessed Virgin, into blood, 
I●el 2.  that is, into dolour. And thirdly, through corporal death; for than became she obscure in a sort, when her soul departed from her precious body so obscured, as it were to become a new Moon again in her Assumption; and then indeed was she a moon most perfect for ever.  
Secondly this Moon of ours, was wholly lucid, in her Assumption, because she was glorified in soul and body, and received there her double Stole; and likewise shines upon us, with her infinite favours and graces, which she daily sends us. For then indeed as the Moon is wholly bright and lucid, when she shines in the beginning, midst, and to the end of the night: by which night is tribulation both signified and usually understood: And as some Saints there are, who help the afflicted, in the beginning of the night as it were; others, who suffer men to fall into tribulation, and to be tempted, in the beginning and middle, but help and succour them at the end: the blessed Virgin shines with her favours upon the distressed, as well in the beginning, in affording courage; and in the middle, in giving perseverance; as in the end, in placing the crown on their heads. This is she, when others fail, who never fails; whom other Saints for sins justly forsake, she never leaves; and while others seem to subtract their suffrages, she always helps.  
Thirdly, this Moon was partly lucid and partly obscure; and this truly in the Passion of her Son, where both she was obscured, and yet gave light; obscure, through intense sorrow, yet lucid by most firm Faith. For as when the Sun is eclipsed, the Moon being opposed between us & the Sun, appears wholly obscure: so when the Sun of justice suffered eclipse at his death, the blessed Virgin became wholly dark, that is, quite overcast and full of sorrow; And yet notwithstanding she shined even then likewise, because she kept the light of Faith unextinguished in her. 
Prou. ult.  Her light shall not be extinguished in the night. Surely two Heavens there are, which yet never lost their light, nor ever are like to do: to wit, Christ for one, who neither with death did forgo the light of his Divinity, but his Deity was both with his body in the Sepulchre, and with his soul in Limbus: and his Mother the other, who never lost the light of grace and faith within her.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
THe Empress of the Sea, 
The Pause.  Latona's bright,  
Draws like a loadstone by attractive might  
The Ocean's streams, which having forward run  
cales back again, to end where they begun.  
The Prince of darkness had eclipsed Eve's light,  
And Mortals, clouded in Cymmerian night,  
Were backwards drawn by Eve, as is the Main;  
●T was only Marie drew to GOD again:  
〈◊〉 chaste Diana, with thy silver beams,  
Fluse & reflux (as in the Ocean's streams)  
●Tis thou canst cause, O draw! and draw me so,  
That I in vice may ebb, in Virtue flow.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  that if the Moon being so fair, beautiful, and perfect, be so accounted of Mortals; and for the manifold influences and favours, which she continually imparts to creatures, be held in so great veneration, as to share in their opinion with the Sun himself, in the government of the world, whom the Paynim Gentility holds to be a GOD, and her Brother, and she his Sister, notwithstanding she hath yet so many blemishes, defects, and spots appearing in her, who can except against the Church's devotion, in so magnifying our Lady, who is truly so fair, beautiful, & perfect indeed, without any the least blemish, or spot in her; & so beneficial withal, as to communicate her graces unto us in a far higher nature, and those in a measure so immense? Or who can tax us, for styling her the Queen of heaven, who is not only the Sister, the Friend, the Dove, and beautiful Spouse of the Sun o● justice, but even his most immaculate Mother, the fountain of all her prerogatives beside; when especially we afford her no more honour, then may worthily be due to a mere creature?  
Consider then, that as in the opinion of such as hold the Moon increasing to have her horns directed towards the rising of the Sun; but decreasing, or being in the wain, to have the horns pointing to the setting of the Sun: So our heavenly, Angelical, and spiritual Moon, the Incomparable Virgin-Mother, had certain addresses and preparations, of humility and Virginity, wherewith she disposed herself, to embrace her Sun in her arms, in the morning of his birth, as he lay in the Crib: And at his setting again, that is, at his Passion, regarded him with two other horns as it were; to wit, with the sorrow she had for his death, of the one side; and the joy, she received of the other, for the Redemption of the world.  
Ponder lastly, how though the Moon, while it is just over the earth, and the Sun in opposition thereunto, in a right diameter beneath the same, is shadowed, obscured, or eclipsed: Yet our mystical Moon, when Christ, our true Sun indeed, descended and abide in hell, which is under the earth, and our Moon remaining there over it, lost not the light of Faith, of his present Resurrection; for that the shadow of the earth, that is, the infidelity of terrene things, could not ascend unto her, whereby the darkness of Infidelity comprehended her not.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Empress of the world, Lady of the Vnivers, Queen of Angels, 
The Colloqui●.  standing in the Moon, and crowned with Stars in Heaven by God Almighty; most wise, most good! Oh regard me, I beseech thee, from the top of the heavens with thy sacred influences from thence; and have pity upon me most miserable wretched sinner in all points. Present, O sacred Virgin-Mother, all my poverties to GOD, all my perils, all my miseries and necessities, to thy Son. For so will he take pity on me, and open his hand, and afford me his Benediction, through thy gracious intercession. This grant, I beseech thee, most radiant and resplendent Moon, who shinest in heaven, and shall for all eternity,    

THE XI. SYMBOL. THE STAR.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Stars are the glittering lamps of Heaven, 
The Impresa.  set up as so many lights, in the close or upper ceiling of the ample Theatre of the world. They are as sparkling Diamonds strewed in the Firmament, to entertain the World with, as a goodly masterpiece of the great CREATOR. They are the silver O's, all powdered here and there, or spangles sprinkled over the purple Mantle or nightgown of the heavens: the seed of pearl, sown in the spacious fields of the Heavens, to bring forth light. Have you seen a stately Mask in Court, all set round, and taken up with a world of beautiful Ladies, to behold the sports and revel's there? Imagine the Stars then, as sitting in the Firmament, to behold some spectacle on Earth, with no other light then their own beauties. If that great Pan they speak of, were that man sitting in the Cabin of the Moon, the Stars would be his Sheep and lambs, feeding in those ample downs of heaven; which not appearing by day (their proper night) you must suppose to be lockt-up in their folds for fear of those Bears and Lions in the Welkin. As Cynthia in the Heavens is even the very same that Diana is in the woods and forests, the Stars by consequence are her Nymphs, who encompass her about, and dance the Canaries in her presence, while so they seem in twinkling to dance and foot-it in the same place. They are extremely given to mortification, and to a strange annihilation of themselves; that being so great as they are, they appear to be so little in the eyes of men; yea many of them, are so passionately addicted to it, as they appear not at al. They affect equalities amongst them; and be any of them never so great, they will show to be no greater than the rest. Their greater height and eminency in degrees swells them not a whit or puffs them up, but diminisheth their crests, and abates them rather. In fine, they are a happy Commonwealth, devoid of envy or ambition; where well may you hear of conjunctions of Houses, but no jars and discords amongst them, that ever I could hear of.   

THE MORALS.  IN ITINERE PHARUS. 
WHEN Theseus was puzzled and entangled in Minos' Labyrinth, 
The Motto.  he found the twist of Ariadne to deliver him thence. The little Bird with the red breast, which for his great familiarity with men they call a Robin, if he meet any one in the woods to go astray, and to wander he knows not whither, out of his way, of common charity will take upon him, to guide him, at least out of the wood, if he will but follow him; as some think. This am I sure of, it is a comfortable and sweet companion, insuch a case. It is the manner in all country's likely, in doubtful ways especially, where they seem to cross one another, to set up Pillars with hands, directing and pointing this way or that way; and you will not believe, what comfort it affords to weary Pilgrims, whose every step out of their right way, is a grievous corrasive to them. The Kings had a Star, as companion in their pilgrimage, to the Crib. And the Pastors of the Church, are as so many Stars, to lead their Sheep, and to guide their subjects in the pilgrimages of their own salvation. When the havens are crooked and perilous to pass to and fro, the public care of common safeties, in the night especially, provides some burning torch or other, upon some turret-top, to admonish the Mariners, where they are, and fayrly to guide and direct them into the wished port. This same provision hath the Wisdom likewise of the great CREATOR found out, to comfort and direct us, no less, in the open Seas, exposing a certain Star among the rest, as a sure and infallible Pharus: But more truly and abundantly far, in ordaining the Incomparable Virgin Marie, his blessed Mother, to be our Star in the dangerous and tempestuous Sea of the world; and therefore is here very truly said in the Motto: IN ITINERE PHARUS.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE Stars, 
The Review.  as sown up and down the Heavens, are the thicker and massive parts of Heaven, certain Buttons of Crystal as it were, which serve as a grace and entertainment to Heaven. By these silver channels, Nature distils her influences upon us, and insensibly distributes favours. They are the eyes of Nature, which without cease serve us as a Court-of-guard for watchfulness; the jewels of Nature, wherewith ordinarily she dresses herself, Sometimes they send forth their fire & rays; sometimes they eclipse their beauty, and strip themselves of all refulgence. There are some, who can punctually tell you, the course and travails of the Stars, their aspects, their encounters, and their fruits; the marriages and divorces of the Planets, their defects and eclipses, their risings, their settings, their ascendants, their conjunctions, and the whole economy of the Heavens. For the swiftness of their motions, it is a thing almost incredible, what they write, that one Star in the firmament, should go 200000. Italian miles in a minute of an hour; so as neither the flight of a bird, nor force of an arrow, nor the furious shot of a Canon nor any thing of the world, can approach or come near the imaginable swiftness of these Stars; bus yet most true, Besides all this, there is no Star, thahath not a particular virtue with it, though unt known to us. The clouded Stars cause infallibly rain; others, frost; some, snow; others shed abundant dews; some sow their hail; others open the mouth and gates of the winds; others fold the world in clouds; others send down misty fogs; and others contribute to the production and generation of Minerals; and when the Sun and the Canicular Star are in conjunction, and match together, the world burns with outrageous heats. It is a dreadful thing, to consider the greatness of these Stars, their distance in the Heavens, and the inexplicable swiftness of their courses and revolutions. You shall have a Star which shows no bigger than a crown, that is a ●15. times greater than the earth. Goodness of GOD! Who would imagine this beauty, to see such a Bowl of Crystal all of fire, to cast down here beneath a thousand benedictions on the earth, by means of its rays, and the sweetness of its influences?   

THE DISCOURSE.  
Thus far then of Stars in general; 
The Survey.  which being thus deciphered, may seem, as so many glorious Suns, in the Firmament of the Heavens, but are indeed as the Common-people of that Celestial City and Kingdom, compared with the Sun himself, sitting in the midst of Planets, as the King of Heaven, to whom all the rest of Stars make up a Court; among whom, as a choice Hester, is one especially selected by that great Assuerus of Stars, to cast his most amorous glances and fairest influence upon. This happy and auspicious Star is known and called by diverse names, according to the offices she discharges in the great Assuerus his house. For first is she styled by the name of Venus, not as the Goddess of Love, which the Poets feign, but for that she disposes them to love, whom she lwayes, and exercises her virtues on. Secondly, she is called the Morningstar, because she shows and declares the Morning now at hand, and even begins the same herself with her burning torch, to glad the world withal, who then begins to shake off sleep, and disperse the misty vapours, which so long had shadowed & clouded over the Gemell Stars or Eyes of the Microcosmes of men. Thirdly, they call her Lucifer, in that her light exceeds so much the other Stars; so as well she may be said, the Hester of them al. And fourthly, she is termed the Hesperus, for as much as she respects the ensuing night, and greatly illustrats the same with her more than ordinary splendour and light; so as she glads the world therewith, & draws all eyes to gaze upon her.  
Such is this special Star indeed, the glory of the Heavenly Orbs; but lo, we have another Star in hand, dwelling in the upper Region of the Empyreal Heavens, that greatly symbolizes with this; but as far exceeds it (Analogically speaking) as the great Assuerus, Sun of justice, excels the same of this our Firmament; or as much as this same Firmament itself, where GOD eternally reigns in his Empyreal and Celestial Court: to whom, I say, these several titles may aptly agree, according to these other things, which are said of her: I am the Mother of fair dilection, & of fear, & of knowledge, & of holy hope. 
Eccls 24.  This Star is the blessed Virgin, that may well be termed Venus, because she inflames men's hearts with Divine love; and therefore is said to be the Mother of fair dilection. Then the Morningstar; for that she is the beginning of a new life; as the morning is the commencement of the ensuing day, and therefore, of fear. For fear is the beginning of grace and of a new life; according to that of the Psalmist: The fear of GOD, is the beginning of wisdom. Again, she is said to be the Lucifer, for that she gives the beginning of Divine knowledge, and so is the Mother of knowledge; And lastly Hesperus, since she so piously regards and illumines sinners, who are in the darkness of wickedness and sin; and for that cause is fayd to be the Mother of holy hope. She is likewise called the Morningstar, because appearing to Mortals, she is the most certain and infallible sign of the approach of the day of grace, and rising of the Sun of justice.  
This Star beside is called the Star of the Sea; and that most fitly, if Philo most skilful of the Hebrew tongue be worthy to be believed, to whose interpretation Beda assents, 
Phil. de Mar●no. Bonau. in opera.  and the Doctor S. Bonaventure in his Gloss of the Blessed Virgin; yea the Catholic Church, while she sings the Aue Maris stella, and again Stella Maris, succurre cadenti. And truly, if Stella be said of stando for its stability and immobility, than needs must Marie be a Star, whose firmity & stability in good, is known to be such, as she never stepped a whit from the will of GOD; which to no other creature once of riper years was yet afforded, 
jacob. 3. Bern. Ser. Super Mis.  since (as the Apostle S. james saith) We have all offended in many things. But for the glorious Virgin, as S. Bernard Saith, She was a Star, because that as the Star sheds its rays without corruption, so she poured forth her Son without impeachment of her Virginity; And as the Star thereby loses no light: ●o the Virgin's Son impaired not the light of her integrity any ways. Read but S. Bonaventure in his foresaid Glass, 
Bonau. in spec.  and he will tell you, how fitly the Virgin here bears the office of the marine Star. For it is read (saith he) and true it is, that the custom of Mariners is, that when they determine to sail unto some land, to make choice of some one Star, by whose sign they may be lead without error into that part they desire to arrive unto. And such truly is the office here of Marie our Star, who directs the Mariners through the vast sea of the world, in the Ship of Innocence or Penance, to the shore of the Heavenly country. And not unlike to this, Pope innocent writes, being cited likewise by the said S. Bernard in the same place. By what helps (saith he) may ships among so many perils arrive at the shore of that Heavenly country? Surely by these two, that is, through the Wood, & Star, to wit, through faith of the Cross, and virtue of that Light, which Marie, that Star of the Sea, hath brought us forth.  
Now therefore as that Star guides and directs the sailors to their port: So this blessed Virgin is worthily called the Star of this tempestuous Sea of the world, while in the midst of the storms of this life, she lends so her light to such as sail to heavenwards; and through her example and patronage continually directs them to the Haven of the Heavenly country. 
Bern. Ser. 20.  Which S. Bernard knew well when he said: This is the glorious and renowned Star very needfully raised upon this great and spacious sea, shining with merits, and illustrious in examples: if the winds of temptations arise, if thou lightest upon rocks of tribulations, if thou be'st tossed by the waves of pride, & hoist up with the surges of ambition, look on the Star, call upon Marie, let her not depart from thy hart, let her not depart from thy mouth; And saith presently thervpon: In following her thou strayest not; imploring her, thou despayrest not; in thinking on her, thou errest not; while she protects, thou fearest not; thou art not weary, while she guides; and she propitious, thou landst securely at the part; and shalt find in thy self, how worthily it was said: the Virgin's name was Marie.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
THe glorious Sun withdrew his beams of light; 
The Pause.   
My sin was cause: So I in dismal night  
Am sailing in a stormy dangerous Maine;  
And ere the sun (I fear) return again,  
Shall suffer shipwreck, where the fraite's my Soul.  
My only Hope's a Star, fixed near the pole,  
But that my Needle now hath lost its force,  
Once touched with grace, and sail out of course.  
Star of the Sea, thy sun hath given thee light;  
Till he brings day, guide me in sins dark night.  
I seek, what Sages heretofore have done,  
Guided by thee a Star, to find the sun.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  that howbeit a Star be said, by many degrees to be greater than the Earth, yet seems it to be but a spangle or fiery point only in that immense and vast vault of the Firmament. So likewise the Blessed Virgin though she be the greatest Star in the Heavenly Hierarchy, yet thought she always humbly of herself; and seemed the least & meanest of all the Daughters of Jerusalem, while she lived on earth. For she was humble in mind, in word, & fact: in mind, because she ever preferred others before herself; as joseph: Thy Father and I with heaviness have sought thee; In word, because she called not herself the Mother of GOD, nor Lady of the world, nor Queen of Heaven, but the handmaid of CHRIST, when she replied so: Behold the handmaid of our Lord; and again. He hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaid; And lastly in fact, because that after she was now become the Mother of GOD; she made herself the handmaid of Elizabeth, when she ministered to her for three months together that she remained with her.  
Consider then, how this Star of ours is as the Pole- Star or axletree of the Firmament. For as the whole circumference of the lesser Stars encompasseth the Pole, and the wheel environs the axletree round: So is the whole Firmament of Saintlie and Angelical Stars, about this singular & sovereign Star, that is, the whole Celestial Court of blessed Spirits, wheel, as it were; and beset the Virgin round, because they encompass & environ her about as the Queen & Lady of them all, according to that which the Church sings: Like the days of the spring-time do the flowers of roses & lilies of the valleys beset her round, that is, the Orders of Confessors and Virgins; and the Prophet saith: The Queen stood at thy right hand, in a garment all of gold with variety beset round. For the Saints are a certain robe or garment of the blessed Virgin, adorning her richly indeed like a Lady or Queen, where the Apostles afford the embroidery of gold; Martyrs, the ground of scarlet, Confessors, Sapphires and Emeralds; and the Virgins, the Orient Pearls and Diamonds.  
Ponder lastly, that as this Star is moved most swiftly by the motion of its Superior, to wit, of the upper firmament or chief Mover, because it daily carries it about the world; but moves most slowly of its own motion, for that they say it moves but one degree in a hundred years. So the blessed Virgin, our delicious Star, moved never of her proper motion, but through the motion of her Superior, to wit, the holy-ghost; for as much as moved by the holy-ghost made she a vow of Chastity, and kept her virginity inviolable, and that perpetual; moved by the holy-ghost, she gave her assent to the Conception of the Son of GOD in an instant; being moved to go to serve her Coseu, presently she climbed the mountains; being moved (so great with child, and near her time) to go to Bethlem, she went her ways; and lastly moved to return again, immediately she returned. Behold how she moved not of herself, but merely of the holy-ghost, which was within her, and guided and directed her in all things: for other motion in moral actions had she none.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Glorious Star! O Mother of mercy! we have heard, 
The Colloquy.  thou art full of grace; and grace is it which we have need of. O full of grace! O radiant Star! we, who are thy humble Suppliants, present ourselves before thy Son, great King of Israel, with sack cloth on our back, ashes on the head, and cords about our necks, confessing our offences in thy sight, that by thy means, we may obtain pardon of them. Look toward the North here of our affliction, O Star of the Sea; thou art our confidence; interpose thyself, between thy Son and thy servants; that of the one side thou mayst appease his wrath, and of the other cancel our sins; that through the heat of thy rays, O Divine Star, the frigidity of our soul may be warmed again, that by thy aspect, the heat of the holy-ghost may vivify us. O grant the same, most Orient and bright Star of Heaven.    

THE XII. SYMBOL. THE OLIVE.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Olive, 
The Impresa  the Fig, and Vine, are the three Triumuiri, that might well have shared the Monarchy of trees between them; as having the voices of all the Tribunes on their parts. But the Olive especially refused the sceptre, as greater in itself, than the flash and lustre of Purple and Diadem could make it. It is the true Agathocles, contented with his salads in an earthen dish. It is even the meek and innocent Dove of trees, as the Dove is the Olive of birds, having such sympathy and fair correspondencies with them. It was once the gladsome mirth and joyful solace of Noë's hart; was then, and is still the Ensign of peace and mercy. It is the Herald of Arms, that passeth freely to and fro, amid the holbards and squadrons of pikes, and cries but out: hold your hands, and all is whist. It decks the brows of Poets, equal with laurel, since Apollo and Minerva were as brother and sister, and dear to each other. It works the same effects, that Music doth to revive the Spirits after a dearth, like a lively Galyard, after a doleful and sad Pavane. And for the Oil, the blood of the Olive, it is the quintessence and cream thereof. It is the fat or butter of the garden, and foils the Dairy, as more wholesome, and agreeable with our first nature. If the Vine be the Darling of Bacchus, the Olive is so to Minerva, that being the Cellar of the one, and this the Apothecary's shop of the other. The Oil is so coy and delicate, so reserved and recollected in itself, as it opens no doors to admit any stranger into its house. It is fiery and haughty in its nature, and will mount and ride on the back of all his fellows. Yet will it slily insinuate and familiarize itself with its neighbours; for there is nothing will encroach so much and show so slick and smooth a brow. And finally it is the joyful smile of the husbandman, and the leaping of his hart, his barn, his cellar, and his whole Riches. It is the Wardrobe to clothe his children, wherewith he pays his rent, and lives as merry as his Landlord doth.   

THE MORALS.  SPECIOSA ET FRUCTIFERA. 
THE Lion is a stately and princely creature, 
The Motto.  and held to be the King of beasts, but is not fruitful; because lightly they whelp but one at once, and that but rarely too, as once in five years only; while the Wren will bring fortha 16. or 20. young in a nest, that besides a little skin and bone is little more than a tuft of feathers. The Sicamour is a goodly and beautiful tree, and hath so fair a leaf, so smooth and delicate, as a reasonable Tailor might well have made thereof a gown and cloak for Adam and Eue. And yet this gallant tree is wholly barren; whereas the Slow, though she bear a world of fruit, they are but sour, and she no more than a thorn, Sara, the wife of Abraham, was so fair and beautiful, as Abraham himself had some little jealousies of her; and Pharaoh was so passionately enamoured with her, as to snatch her away from him, and to carry her to his Court. But yet she was not fruitful, while she had much ado, to bring an Isaac into the world. Lia indeed was very fruitful, and brought her jacob many children; but she was but bleer-eyed and ill-favoured, and jacob illuded in taking her for another. Rachel indeed was gracious and extreme fair, but barren, that with all her Mandragoras was hardly able, to bring her jacob a joseph; and the little Benjamin cost her her life. Only the Virgin Marie was truly fair and fruitful both together, who remaining still a Virgin, was yet so fruitful, as to bring forth not a joseph, or a Saviour of a few, or a Benjamin, Woe to his mother, but a JESUS and a Saviour indeed of the world, being the true Primogenitus of an infinite offspring of Christians, succeeding in the world; and particularly of true Parthenians. And therefore was truly SPECIOSA ET FRUCTIFERA.   

THE ESSAY.  
BY the Olive, 
The Review:  is understood the tree, the fruit, the oil. As for the tree, if man be a tree, turned upside down, as some will have it, whose body is the trunk, his legs and arms the branches, and whose head the root, where, by the mouth, it takes its nutriment; the Olive is that tree, since no other tree resembles him so well. For no other tree, is so civilised as it; no other tree so useful and profitable to the neighbour; no other tree, so medicinal. The first makes him a Citizen, at least a free Denizen amongst men; the second, a Merchant; and the third, a Physician; and what are these but trades, faculties, and professions of men? Minerva was the first as the Paynim Antiquity will have it, who found-out the culture and planting of the Olive, and expression of the lickour thence, or pressing of the Oil; howbeit they grant the Plant had been ever existing, and had grown before, but altogether unknown to men, among the other trees. And for a good while was not the Olive to be found, but with the Athenians; and therefore the Epidaurians contracted with them, to send them yearly Olive branches for their Sacrifices. And for as much as the lickour of the Olive, as the Oil expressed, is apt for all arts, they held Minerva was the Inventress of all arts. For surely, there is hardly any Art, that makes not use of this unctuous lickour, we call Oil of Olives. There are two sorts of these Olive-trees; the one Civil, as I said, and fit for Cities, bred and trained up in Gardens, well clothed with Olive-coulour suits without, and faced or lined with ash-coulour within; the other Wild, and fitter for the forests, being somewhat of a harsher & more churlish disposition; as being full of thorns and prickles mingled with the leaves, and whose fruit seldom or never come to good, as having little acquaintance or familiarity with the Sun, that perfects all things, by reason of the thickets of the forests where they dwell, which hinder it. But for the nobler & more generous Olive, they are high and tall of stature, well branched, and with as many arms and hands to feed us with, as had Briareus to sling and hurt with. Their flowers and blossoms cluster together, like to grapes; the fruit, made Oual-wise, being long and round, about the bigness of our damsons; whose bones within, were they as small as the flesh is good, the merchants needed not to venture so far as to the Indies for gold or spices, while Spain and Italy would hold them trade enough. As for the Oil, the Poets, who are punctual & Religious in their Epithets, are wont to adorn and mark out all other lickours with their proper attributs, as to term the milk, candid; the honey, liquid gold; the Rose, crimson; the wine, brisk; but the Oil of all others, they call humid, a quality common to all lickours, chiefly, for that it hath no aridity of any mixture with it, as other lickours have, even the water itself, there being nothing more smooth, slick, and less porie, than it. It hath beside very fair correspondency with the eyes, and little less than good will between them; affording itself to be easily gazed on, as a glass; and though not so transparent as other lickours, yet more reflective & representative, than others. It is apt to burn, as being so liquid, as I said; for were it airy, it would vanish into smoke; if earthly, turn to ashes; but being humid, it spends itself, and nourishes the fire. Finally this sweet lickour, as the friend and dear companion of Nature, restores the frail forces, comforts the languishing vigour, repairs and nourisheth the body in decay, clarifyes the voice, dissipates, resolves, and quite consumes the coldness of humours, and assuages tumors; and what not?   

THE DISCOURSE.  
THE Sacred Scriptures show, 
The Survey judic. 9  that when the Trees decreed among themselves, to elect a King, the first they cast their voices on, to have advanced to that Regal dignity, and wield the Sceptre, was the Olive of all other; for that, the first and principal thing they require in such a one, to govern subjects with, must needs be Piety and Mercy, whose type indeed the Olive bears. No man denies, but the Incomparable Virgin is worthily here compared to the Olive-tree; of whom is said: 
Eccl. 24.  As it were an Olive specious in the fields. Since then that Supreme, Sovereign, and more than Royal dignity of Mother of God, was conferred so upon her in her Annunciation, as on the mystical Olive, after the receiving of that Imperial title, her Charity & Mercy appeared more than ever, as became a Queme. And as in the Annunciation of the immaculate Mother of God, the Dove was a true type of her; so is the Olive-tree no less, whereon she sat a lively & representative figure; between which two, are so great correspondencies, which Philisophers call a sympathy. Call then to mind that admirable Dove, which No, the great restorer of the world, from that vast and huge Argo●rie of his, or rather unmeasurable Chest, wherein he had enclosed and shutup the world, as under lock and key, sent forth to be his Spy and Intelligencer abroad, to understand, how matters went with the other world so buried under waters. Who flying freely through the empty world, within the liquid air, prying every where with the piercing cast of her little eyes, the elder world beginning now at length to discover some part of its lamentable ruins, when she might well have lighted either on some stately Cedar, or victorious Palm, upon some mountainous Cypress, or robustuous Oak, or else on a prudent Mulberry, the most sweet Figtree, or most flourishing Almond: yet she belike as slighting them all, and all other kinds of plants or fruits whatsoever, made choice of the Olive to set her little foot upon; and with her little bill, as a wise and ingenious Spy, to fasten on some proof or argument, to bring away with her of the fair dispatch of her negociation, which was to bring her master certain & infallible tidings of the discovery and recovery anew of that greater world. Returning to the ark again, as Scriptures testify, she brought along with her a branch of that Olive-tree: the 70. read a leaf, a sprig of Olive, or, as others, a fescue (as it were) thereof, to wit, with leaves, or the top only and most slender twig of an upper bough, as Del●ius expounds it; for so might the Dove very easily twitch it off.  
Wherefore we aptly mark the Olive in the whole Mystery of the Annunciation, as the Symbol of Mercy and Peace. For in the same was made the first beginning of human Redemption, as also of the Divine benignity and liberality; which to the end that Patron and lover of men the Son of GOD might truly show, it was needful, through the bowels of mercy to visit us rising from above; which in this Mystery was truly done, when Gabriel taking the person of an Ambassador, delivered his Embassage to Marie, whom if you conceive as the Dove of Noë, bringing in his hand a sprig of green and flourishing Olive with him, as the ensign of his Legation, you shall not think amiss; since the Olive-branch is even with the Gentiles themselves, the Symbol of mercy, but in a singular and peculiar manner denotes to us the Virgin in the Theatre of the Annunciation.  
But here may we demand with S. Ambrose: how came it to pass, the Olive should flourish so suddenly after the Deluge, and put forth a twig so soon? doubting, whether that leaf (for so he calls it) sprung before the flood, or, during it; concludes it did, and that the just Noë rejoiced, to see some fruit reserved of the old seed; and gathered thence a notable sign of the Divine Mercy, for that as than he had removed the deluge, showing the fruit which the inundation could not hurt, as holding the little branch of green Olive to be a sign thereof, which even flourished in the midst of the waters and universal inundation of vindicative justice, since this Olive of Mercy could not be drowned, swallowed, or withered wholly. Wherein truly may we worthily contemplate our blessed Virgin Marie expressly deciphered, as the especially and most singularly preserved plant of this mysterious Olive, which even flourishing before the flood, ceased not likewise to be green and prosper in the very flood. For if the just man worthily rejoiced to behold yet some fruit to remain of the old seed; could he choose but admire this mystical branch of our Olive here, which even so great an universal flood of Sin could no whit damage?  
Here now the Hebrews would have Mount-olivet not to have been covered wholly with the waters of the flood, and how that branch of Olive was taken from that Mount-olivet. Others report it to have been fetched out of Paradise. Both which I hold fictitious, if we speak of the Mount or Paradise in a literal or historical sense; and otherwise most certain, if we understand it in the mystical. For the Mother of Christ is mystically indeed the Mount of Olives, and she also the Paradise of pleasure, wherein our Lord hath placed the man whom he had form. This Mount of Olives then, this Paradise, no flood of overflowing sins hath drowned or covered.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
NOT without cause the Olive-tree is slow  
And backward in its growth: The fruit doth show, 
The Pause.   
By th' oil it yields (the type of Mercy) long  
We did expect, before that tender, young,  
And fruitful tree, the Olive, from the earth,  
(The blessed Virgin) sprung, by whose blessed birth,  
The oil of Mercy, from the fruit did slow,  
Which with the tree grew up, and grew up so,  
As the first Olive tree, not slow in growth,  
But branched, & leaved, & fruitful. Mercy both  
(Like oil) the Tree & Fruit, produce: a Priest  
Messias in her Womb's anointed Christ.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  that as the Olive is ever green, both in Summer, Winter, Spring, and Autumn; and what hue it receives in the Spring, it still retains the dead of Winter, when all other trees beside have either no leaves, or else are changed into other colours, as tasting the common calamity of all Plants, some few excepted. So the incomparable Virgin Marry never lost the flourishing greennes of her sanctity, either in the smiling Summer of her abundant consolation in her joyful passages with her dear Son; or in the sad Winter of her greatest desolation, as when she lost him in the Temple, and when she found him afterwards hanging on a foreign tree, so strangely altered, as he could hardly be known, in his passion; nor in the Spring of her youth, while she lived in the house of her Parents, and especially in the Temple of our Lord, during her minority; nor yet in the Autumn of her elderage, since look what fervour she had in youth, the same she still retained in her elder years.  
Consider then, how the blessed Virgin, and her dear Son, were both Olives, to wit, the fruits of Olives. For as the Olives are first green, 
Isid.  then red, then brown or black: so was the Virgin-Mother green through the precious and ifitemerate flower of her Virginity; red, through her burning and inflamed Charity; and brown or black, 
Cant. 1.  through humility. I am black behold the brownnes of her humility; but fair: see there the flourishing state of her Virginity; like to the skins of Solomon: where you may note the redness of her charity. And for her Son, the young Olive, He was green in his whole conversation. 
Levit. 23.  If in green wood they do this, what will be done in the dry? 
Isay. 69.  He was red in his passion: Wherefore is thy garment red, and thy vestments like to those, who stamp or tread in the press? And black he was, at his death: while the Sun became black as a Sackcloth.  
Ponder lastly, how Christ himself was truly the Olive; and the Virgin-Mother, but as the Olive. He was truly the Olive, because he had the total and universal Mercy with him, and was indeed the natural Mercy himself, since it was indeed his very nature, & proper to him, to have mercy, and take compassion of all: while the Virgin was but as an Olive; for that she was so accustomed to pity, and so ready and prompt to compassion, as she seemed in a sort most like unto him.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Delicious and fruitful Mother, 
The Colloquy.  do thou show thyself a true Mother; and do not reject me from thy bosom, so open to all sinners. O Virgin Mother, O Olive truly fruitful in the house of GOD: according to thy name, let me prove the effects thereof: for thy name dilates itself like Oil; thou healest the wounded, thou givest light to the ignorant; thy name seems to carry a bitterness with it, and yet affords us a sweet and delicate oil or balm of mercy and grace, more sweet than honey, or the honie-comb, and thy name, 
Eccl. 25.  in the mouth, is full of suavity and delectation. O how fair is thy mercy, in time of tribulation! For then dost thou pour it forth, when the necessity is most evident, Mother of mercy, who presentest thyself most prompt to all, that err and go astray: Do me the grace, to participate of the fruit of thy name: Give me a special devotion to praise thee, a love to love thee, and a perfect humility to follow thee, through the fruit of thee, the Olive, thy blessed Son JESUS.    

THE XIII. SYMBOL. THE NIGHTINGALE.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Nightingale is the little Orpheus of the woods, and the true Amphion of the forest, 
The Impresa.  that hath for Lyre the little Clarigal, or Organ of his throat; wherein he is so expert, as not contented to outstrip others, he will never lyn, till with running his divisions, he hath put himself to a Nonplus, for want of breath: and then will look about him, as he had done some thing, and some notable conquest, when it is but himself or his own Echo he hath so foiled, and put to silence. He is the petty Quirister of the Groves, that sings his Anthems and pretty Alleluyas in the night, giving the word to Chantecler, the obstreperous Cock, to ring the world an Alarm or peal to Matins. He is so proud of his music, and hath so good a conceit thereof, as he will not consort with any other minstril beside, to fil-up his melodious Symphonies, but will alone have all the pipes to himself. He is a true Musician indeed, that hath a little of the fantastic with him; and will in a humour, if he jar but never so little with himself, of mere choler be ready to break his pipes to pieces. It is well he sings no words or Dittyes to his Sol-fa; for if he did, we should doubtless lose ourselves, and be ravished and reft of our senses. And much I doubt, whether the Intelligences themselves would not quite give over their music, to listen to his Mottets. His usual songs are certain Catches and Roundelays he hath, much after the manner of the French Brawls; you would take him verily to be a Monsieur of Paris straight, if you heard but his preludiums; for then indeed is he set on a merry pin. Sometimes again will he be in a melancholy dump, and strike you such Notes, as Dowland himself never struck, in all his Plaints and Lachrymies. It is then perhaps, when he feels so the prickle at his breast, in the midst of his Nocturns. For then like a right Michael-Angelo with his statue framed to the life, which seems to live and breath, will he make his pipes to speak out plainly: Ay me! Ah! Eheu! They are Hermits all, for the most part, and keep in the wilderness; and are so contemplative, as they hate the Cities, and never come there but as Captives, sore against their wil It is marvel, there is such store of them, and that ever they should leave the single life, and betake them to the conjugal state, but that Chastity indeed is a strain beyond their Ela.   

THE MORALS.  IN ORE MELOS, CORDE JUBILUS. 
IT is a common Proverb: Musica in luctu, 
The Motto.  importuna narratio: as much to say, as Music in mourning, is a harsh hearing. And yet the Raven hath had the commendation of a good voice, and been seriously told, she had a good one; but whosoever it was, he did but to flatter her grossly to herface, & spoke not as he thought indeed, but to bring her into a fool's Paradise, and to soothe her up for some politic ends of his own. But what have we here to do with such Saxtons, as she, that rings but knells to passengers out of this world? Welfare the Swan yet, who though she sings very dolefully, yet doth it very sweetly; nor should I think the Swallow had reason of her side, to contend with her for skill in music; for if her tune be reasonable good, she hath no varieties; & though she sing very cheerfully and hath iubiley in the hart, yet hath she no great melody in her mouth. The Philomela is truly she of all wind-instruments, that carries the silver bell away. For she will iugit forth both cheerfully and sweetly to. She will sing from the hart, as having an innocent soul of her own, not an ounce of care within, nor so much as a Doit of debts to pay. A good Musician indeed can not choose but be an honest man; nor do I see, how an honest man can be aught else, than a good Musician; since Music is no more than a harmony and sweet accord of diverse tones into one melody, without any jar or discord between them. And Man is a Harp; the Powers and Faculties of the Soul, the strings; and Reason, the Harper. If Reason than plays well his part, which makes the honest man, Oh what a harmony there is in all, & especially where the tongue and hart agree together? When David played on the harp, the i'll Spirit fled from Saul. And why? because he hateth unity and concord: Whereas had he jarred but never so little, the Spirit had stayed no doubt. Is it so in the Harp, & not in the Organ of the voice? No doubt it is. As the hand strikes, what the hart dictates, so the mouth puts forth, of the abundance of the hart. The hart then of the Incomparable Virgin, so innocent and free from all engagements, how cheerful of necessity must it needs be? and being so full of glee and iubiley, how must she needs exhale & vent forth melody? and consequently, how divinely broke she forth into that melodious Canticle of her Magnificat? And if ever else where, was that truly verified in her: IN ORE MELOS, CORDE JUBILUS.   

THE ESSAY.  
IT is one of the prettiest sports of Nature, 
The Review.  when she is in her deepest silence, to hear the little Nightingale to warble, in telling and recounting her delights & pleasures to Zephyrus and the forests, tuning a 1000 Canzonets, and sweetly cutting the air with repetition of a hundred thousand semi-semi-quavers, which she lets go without cease. To take her pleasure and recreation, she will balance herself upon a branch that shakes, to dance Lavaltoes as it were at the Cadence of her lighter songs, & to match her voice with the silver streams of a crystal currant, gliding there along, which breaking against the little pebbles, murmurs and sweetly purls, while she perches and sets herself just over a bank enamelled all with little flowers. This little Musician alone making up a song of four Parts, and a full Choir of music, you would say she held within her throat, a thousand Choristers, and as many Violins, and that the little cornet of her beak were in steed of all the wind-instruments. It is admirable in so small a body, so clear, so sweet, so strong, and pleasant a voice should be found; that in the Spring, when trees begin to bud their leaves, whole days and nights perpetually she should sing without intermission at al. For whence from so little a bird, so bold and pertinacious a spirit? Whence that force of containing yet the soul, in chanting so many diversities in the continuation of one song? and where, I pray, are the lively streightnings and remissions of the voice contained? Whence so artificious and so perfect a knowledge of music, so ingenious a modulation, so gratful a tone to the ears, which now with a continued breath is drawn out at length, now turns again with a strange and admirable variety, distinguished with a slicing voice, and then with a wrested, peeced together? There is truly no Song so hard and abstruse, which she can not express, full, flat, sharp, quick, long, high, mean, base, what more? Now in these little throats, are all kinds of songs to be found entire and perfect; which, with so much labour, with so much industry, and with so many instruments invented, the Art of man hath devised. But oh what sport it is, when this little feathered voice, this pretty harmony in the shape of a bird, this little end of nothing, as it were, being vivifyed with music, is even ready to kill herself with singing, when she hears the counterfeit Nightingale (the Echo) to mock her, in repeating and returning her whole melody again! For than she mounts up, as it were, to the heavens, and then stoops again to the Centre of the earth, she flies, she follows, she sighs, she sobs, she is angry, and then pleased again, she mingles the sharp with the sweet, the sharp with the B. flat; one while a Chromatic, than a sweeter stroke, now strikes a Diapente, and then a Diapason. She counterfeits the Hawboy, Cornet, & Flute; she divides, she gargles, & hath her Groppo, the trills, and the like, and all in that her little throat, but yet can vary nothing, but the Echo imitates and expresses; till at last, as it were, she looseth all patience, falls into a little chafe with herself, in that seeing nothing, she hears notwithstanding, and so flies into some bush to hide herself for shame, till pricked with a thorn, at last she is pushed to sing again; which she doth without measure, where all is delicious as before.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
BUT what are all these to the sweet modulations of Mary's voice, 
The Survey.  wherewith she tuned a Canticle of her Divine Soul, surely a magnifying of GOD, to be imitated of no Nightingale else inferior to herself, whether we regard the manifold variety of her voice, or the delectable sweetness, or pertinacity in the continuation thereof? The Orpheans, Amphion's, Arion's, the Orlando, and Marenzas, yea the Sirens themselves, with casting down their eyes would go their ways confounded, and break their harps and other instruments into pieces, had they heard the melody of that Divine Voice of hers. O let thy voice then sound in mine ears? for thy voice is sweet. 
Cant.  The Nightingales are said to be of two sorts: some conversant in the mountains, and some in the marshes; which will appear by the manner of their singing, there being no comparison between them; since the one doth far excel the other, whether it be the little pipes of their organs be stopped by the vapours of those humid places, I know not, but am sure of this, that julius Alexandrinus upon the 9 book of Galen, puts a notable difference between them; for thus he says: It is noted, that the Nightingales of the plain and marish places, 
Alex 9 l. Galen.  are wont to give forth a voice a great deal shirler, than those of the mountains, the organ of the voice relenting no doubt through too much moisture, as they cannot have so smart, cunning, & tuneable a voice with them, as the others have.  
Behold then our Lalie a Nightingale of the mountains: For Marie arising went into the mountains, and so became the Nightingale of the mountains. She inhabited not the fens or marshes of dissolute lubricity, abode not in the plains of an ordinary virtue, but left the valleys of base cogitations, aspired to the tops of Heroical virtues, placed the nest in the sublimity of Divine contemplations, and dwelled in the top of the mount of Perfection; whence proceeded that sweet voice, more sweet than any mortal harmony beside: My Soul doth magnify our Lord.  
Let others with the tongue, hand, or breath charm the delicate ears; let them wind the Cornet, with a thousand diminutions, run divisions on the Harpsicon or Virginals: Let them pay the Violin as much as they will, spatter the Lute, touch the Orpharion never so sweetly, the Cithern, Pandore, and the Harp itself: Yet this Canticle of Magnificat in my mind exceeds them all, and will stand for Organs, Flutes, Cornets, Harps, Lutes, Citherns, Pandora's, and a thousand the like. This is the Music indeed that pleased GOD, and which I like best, which the syllables of the Soul and hart do make, while the tongue plays the Harp. GOD magnifyed Marie because he made her great; Marry magnified GOD, because she proclaimed him Great.  
When I think of our Nightingale, what hast she made to go unto the mountains, it comes into my mind, what a certain Author hath, writing of the nature of things: That the Nightingale is wont to sing with expedition and celerity. 
Vliss. Aldr. Ornith. l. 28. p. 780.  But what are the causes of her so hasty and precipitous speed? The Naturalists will tell you: perhaps, because she fears, lest the time of her singing pass away; perhaps she hastens, lest her tunes otherwise would seem harsh and ungratful to delicate ears; perhaps, because she would charm the ears more powerfully and politely withal. But why made Marie such haste then? Let Ambrose tell us: The Virgin made haste, that she might not remain long in public out of her house. Learn, you Virgins, saith he, not to stay in the streets, nor to hold unprofitable chats in public. Again let Ambrose tell us: She hastened for joy, wherewith the Virgin's hart exulted to GOD. Let him tell us a third time again: The Virgin being full of GOD, whither should she go but to the higher places, with full speed? The grace of the holy-ghost knows no delays. Let Origen yet tell us: For that CHRIST, who was in the Virgin's womb, made haste to sanctify john, and cleanse him from Original sin. O let our Nightingale therefore sing apace.  
But harken awhile, you Musicians, how the Nightingale sings; observe her well, and you shall note, how she pauses not, but equally sings at length with a continual breath without any change, still holding out her wind to the full: now she sings her diminutions, and divides in infinitum; now she wriggles and curls her voice as it were, now she lengthens it again, now she draws it back; one while she chants forth longer verses, as they were Heroics; another while, more short and sudden, much like unto Sapphics; and sometimes again, extreme short as Adonicks. Now she tunes with a fat and grosser voice, you would verily say, it were a Sack but at least: anon rings she forth a most shrill treble, as fetched a note above Ela at least; clear; to fill the ears with a silver sound; sweet, to charm the hearing with deliciousness, running Descant as it were, upon the ground of her lower Notes; and now she goes smooth & even again, now seem you to hear a Tenor voice, than a Counter, & a Counter-alt following and chase one another with certain fugnes. But Oh terrene Philomela, thou art but a babbler here, with all thy trilloes, if thou stand'st in competency in Music with this Divine Nightingale.  
Let us hear then this Celestial Bird: My soul doth magnify the Lord. What is this I hear? What is it, that fills so mine ears? What is it? what a melody and most delicious sound it makes? which being conjoined with unequal pauses, but yet distinct, with certain quaver-rests, and not with an artless voice unskilfully come off, nor with affectation ridiculously handled; nor with a swelling of the throat uncomely to see to, nor expressed with instruments il tuned, but most divinely and sweetly done, with a gratful inflection of the natural voice, which tempering the Flat with the Sharp, the rough with the sweet, the obscure with the plain and perspicuous, the ligatures with the free, the slow with the quick, in one expresseth most different harmonies. Let 〈…〉 the music Magnificat etc. which if we relish well, and the ears of our soul be not wholly out of tune, we shall find most melodious indeed, and framed not only with admirable artificiousnes and skill, but tempered with a singular sweetness and variety withal. For therein is heard the height of Divinity in the Treble, My spirit hath exulted in GOD my SAVIOUR: the vileness of the Humanity, and so the bottom and the Base of demission, He hath regarded the lowliness of his hand maid: the Alt of Power, He hath done great things for me, who is powerful: the Tenor of Mercy, And mercy from generation to generation to them that fear him: the Grave or Flat of vindicative justice, The proud hath he dispersed in the mind of their hart: the Sharp of Exultation, My spirit hath exulted in GOD my SAVIOUR: the Sweet of Refection and refreshment, He hath filled the hungry with good things: the Chromatic or harshness of Rebuke, The rich hath he sent empty away: the fatness or fullness of Fidelity, He hath received his child: the artificiousnes of Revelation, As he hath spoken: the consonance of both Instruments, to Abraham and his seed for ever.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
EVE, like a Nightingale, was placed to sing  
In Eden, where, with everlasting spring.  
GOD for her solace pleasant arbours raised,  
Had she with lowly strains her Maker praised. 
The Pause.   
But to an Alt her mind aspired too high,  
Would be like GOD, affecting Deity,  
Therefore from Eden's spring she was expelled,  
Sad Philomela, to mourn: Till GOD beheld  
A Nightingale with an exulting strain,  
That magnifyed her Lord. But down again  
She lowly stooped, & iuged it, when she said:  
He hath beheld even me a servile Maid.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, that as the searchers into natural things; 
The Contemplation:  have delivered, all birds have their peculiar Notes, which are as their proper Dialects, in the region of their kinds, & by which, when they are not seen, they are easily distinguished one from another, save only the Nightingale, which hath no proper Note of its own, but rather alone is a Choir of all the Musical birds in the world. So is it right with our heavenly and divine Nightinga; for as all other creatures chant forth the praises of their Creator with Notes each one in their several kinds, our Nightingale warbles them, with the diversity of all voices, with the voice of the Angels, of men, & of things that want both reason and sense.  
Consider then, that, as Pliny saith, the Nightingale sings not so artificiously by nature so much as by art; while the young are taught to warble of the elder. The younger (saith he) do meditate and receive their verses from the elder to practise, to imitate: the scholars attentively listen, and prove their Notes, and by turns hold their peace. You may note a correction in the learner, and a kind of reprehension in the teacher. Where behold, how S. john was a young Nightingale; and if you doubt it, ask of him, if he be so or no: he will tell you: He is the voice of the desert; Which is nothing else but a Nightingale. For if you pull but the feathers of his titles from him, you will find but a voice, and nothing else; and what is that but a Nightingale, that sings as it is taught by an elder one? when being in his Mother's womb, and hearing this our Nightingale, to lead him a verse of her Canticle of Magnificat; he proving to follow and sing likewise, as then could no more, but skip and dance.  
Ponder lastly, that as the Nightingale, though often she be jovial & full of glee, & out of jollity of hart doth often sing in the public groaves among a thousand of other choristers beside, vying and inviting them all to sing to the praise of their common Creator: Yet will she sometimes by herself alone be singing in private also in a bush, where having a thorn at her breast, it is incredible, the varieties she will put forth, that were even able to ravish the Intelligences themselves, could they hear her at leisure, and were not occupied already with their own Music. So our blessed Virgin, the Nightingale of Heaven, though she would often sing in the company of Angels, as likely was she rarely without their company, with whom she would chant Alleluyas more audible and melodiously; yet sometimes again she would retire herself, and the thorns of her dearest beloved through a lively memory sticking at her breast, & pricking the hart, it can not be imagined, how dolefully, and yet how sweetly, she would sing.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
BEhold, 
The Colloquy.  great Chorist and Rectrice of the Angelical Choir, we poor petty-Quiristers beneath, have our eyes cast upon thy al-commanding Rod, to moderate our Time, that with due proportion here on earth, we may answer in some manner to that upper Choir in heaven, chanting the praises of our common Lord & great Creator. o Marry, o Divine Nightingale; thy Choir beneath is held in the whole Church: but thy private School is kept in the Conclave of the Hart, where thou art wont to teach thy Devotees, to sing aright, how with the Voice, the Hart should jump withal, & the hand and foot be keeping a just Time, that is, with our hart, voice, example, and good works, that we keep an even time with thee, in correspondency of that great Magnificat of thine. Come then, great Chantresse of heaven, and erect thy school within my hart, & teach it to sing forth his praises with out cease. Lo here, I say, let thy voice sound in mine ears; for thy voice is sweet.    

THE XIV. SYMBOL. THE PALM.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Palm is the invincible Champion among trees, 
The Impresa  whose chiefest point of valour consists in bearing injuries and oppressions, without shrinking. It is even a very Atlas, for the breadth and sturdines of its shoulders; which the more you load, the stoutlyer it stands to it: It is for name and qualities a Phoenix right; & therefore as they sympathise much, the Phoenix will lightly take up his Inn no where else. And verily I think, if the Phoenix were to be a tree, it would be no other; and I doubt much whether if the Palm could metamorphize itself, it would wish to be any other, than it is. It is a whole provision for the use of man: so as a new married couple might well go o● house with such a stock. They are even as Turtles among trees, & constant Lovers to each other. They are so amorous one of an other, as they will hardly live without the society of each other; and yet so chaste, as they breed and bring forth without contaction. As the Turtle-widowes sit mourning on a withered branch, or die of grief; so will the Palm in losing his mate become a withered tree, and pine away. If diverse sexes they have with them (as some think) they are the constant Ulysses, and chaste Penelope; if not, a Damon and Pythias. Of all trees, the Palm comes nearest to a reasonable soul, if Loyalty and friendship be according to reason, who are so passionately carried towards each other. No marvel then the Palm alone, is so taken up to heaven, as Sceptre of the Martyrs, where nought but reasonable things can have admittance. The Male, that bears no fruit himself, in a manner is endless and everlasting, because Dateless, as without dates; and the female though fruitful & full of dates, yet bearing pulls her not down, but is for all her dates as durable every whit as the other. They are the Hermit's Kitchen & refectory at once; whose dates they eat no otherwise then as they come already cooked and dressed on the tree. They show a far off like Trophies hanged with Falchions or Turkey Scimiters; but nearer hand, as loaden and adorned with strange leaves, instead of arms or branches without boughs. By reason whereof no bird can handsomely perch upon them: which privilege is only reserved to the Phoenix, where she willingly and deliciously plants her cradle, her couch, her Temple of the Sun, her Altar of holocausts, and finally her tomb at one.   

THE MORALS.  DEPRESSA RESURGENS. 
THE Virtues of Fortitude and Patience may seem as two, 
The Motto.  but are easily reduced to one, that is, to a stout Patience, or patient Fortitude. If you divide them, Fortitude attempts without temereity; and having once begun, without all fear goes through with it. Patience hath large shoulders, and fit to bear a burden of injuries, which it suffers not of pusillanimity or baseness, as not daring to revenge itself, but out of a true and Christian magnanimity, because he may not. Fortitude seeks not dangers, but meeting with them, bears them bravely indeed with courage and good success. Patience is so subject to itself, as injuries can not subdue it, as holding this Maxim, that the whole victory consists in yielding. Fortitude is sole Mistress of itself, submitting passions to Reason's lore, through which interior victory it works its own peace. Patience walks above Nature, so long as it is beneath itself. Fortitude is troubled at nothing, but for displeasing the Sovereign Good, and fears nothing but Sinne. Patience makes use of Laws for its only protection, not for revenge, and its own forces, to eschew indignities and not to offer them. If Fortitude have a quarrel in hand, it regards not the arm, but the cause, not how stout it is, but how innocent; and where it hath equity for warrant, well may it be mastered, but not vanquished. The contrary events, do only exercise, but not affright it; and whensoever it is pressed with affliction, it acknowledgeth the invisible hand to be over it, that lays very sensible scourges upon it, against which it dares not rebel or murmur a whit. This stout Patience then, or patient Fortitude, this Heroical constancy (I say) the glorious Virgin had, through the whole course of her blessed life, but especially in bearing the dolours of her son's passion, so equal, and persevering so long at the foot of the Cross, and not fainting the while, but remaining firm on her feet, so victorious a Palm of Cades, as well might she say indeed: DEPRESSA RESURGENS.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE Palm, 
The Review.  of trees is it, that bears away the palm. It is even the Tower of Plants, both for height and strength at once; for if the Pine be higher, it is the weaker; if the Oak be stronger, it is nothing near so high; and therefore with Antiquity it was the Symbol of constancy and victory. It is (as I may say) the Phoenix of trees, with which it hath such sympathies, as what with the Etymology of the name, being the same in Greek, and the fair correspondencies they have with each other, in Authors they are much confounded. And for the Phoenix, she will nest herself in none other. The Palms are likewise the Turtles among trees; for they are Male and Female, as they; they match and pair together as they, and are as loyal as they, and full as chaste as they. For in the absence of each other, they produce no fruit, and yet (wherein they much exceed the Turtles) they bring them forth without contaction of branch or root, but it is enough that they enjoy each others company; and so great a sympathy they have withal, that if they be transplanted from each other, they mourn and languish likewise, if not dye. The Palm is even the Magazine of all provisions, for the use and sustentation of man. The Indians have need of many things, and lo the Palm supplies then all; so as if any one be industrious among them, or any thing be very profitable, they will say immediately: Behold the Palm. It affords them oil, wine, and bread, as they handle it; with the leaves they cover their houses, as we with tiles; they write thereon, instead of paper; if they put themselves to sea, the Palms do furnish them with all things necessary thereto; and not only with victuals, but even the very vessel in itself is nothing else but Palm. The trunk and branches yield them masts and boards; the leaves being woven, make up their sails; with the bark, they frame their tackle and cordage. So as not without some miracle, as it were, may you say, when you see a Man-of-war of theirs, or a marchant's ship, behold a Palm, how it rides upon the seas.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
BEhold here the true triumphant Palm indeed, 
The Survey.  the Queen of Heaven, who notwithstanding all her combats and bitter agonies in the passion of her Son, yet still she triumphed over all, especially in her glorious Assumption: I am exalted as a Palm in Cades, that is, in my Assumption, since Cades is interpreted: Translation; for who sees not the Assumption of the Mother of GOD, to be nothing else, but a certain translation of her from this Militant to the Triumphant Church? A Palm being oppressed with a heavy weight, was put up in the Obsequies of Marguerit of Austria, with this device: Subacta mole resurgo; representing therein, how the Just shall arise at the last Resurrection, like the Palm, more fair and beautiful then before; though formerly oppressed, by the burden of death and of human necessity. And so was it with our incomparable Lady in an eminent degree, especially (I say) at her glorious Assumption.  
Among the Palms, there are Male and Female; and the Female never brings forth fruits, but standing opposite by her Male; and hence it is, that two Palms, being planted by two bancksides of a river, are the Hieroglifick of Nuptials, with Valerius: & especially, say I, of the Spiritual Nuptials between the Spouse, & his Spouse, between Christ and his blessed Mother. Among these Palms likewise, is noted this difference; that the Male grows and flourishes sooner than the Female; and so fares it here with our two Palms, our Saviour Christ, and his dear Mother. Where, of the first saith the Prophet: The just shall flourish like the Palm; And the latter saith of herself: 
Psal. 31  I am exalted like a Palm in Cades; with this difference, 
Eccl. 24.  that Christ much sooner than his Mother arising to immortal life, seemed to flourish sooner: 
Psal. 27.  as he testifyes of himself: And my flesh hath flourished. But the blessed Virgin dying some years afterwards, and gloriously resuscitated, did flourish indeed, but so as after him.  
It is said moreover, that though the Palm grow higher than many trees, yet never arrives it to the height of the Cedar. So likewise, though our mystical Palm, our admirable Lady, were raised and exalted so high, as she far transcended the glory of all men and Angels, yet to the height of the glory of Christ, very aptly signified by the Cedar, was she never assumpted, as well for sublimity as innated incorruptibility; because our Lord Christ as well in the Triumphant as Militant Church is the Head of the mystical Body, whereof his Mother was a member only, though the noblest part of all, as being the neck. Heerto may be added that pretty device of Mark Anthony, being this: a Pillar wreathed and composed about with two branches, the one of Palm, the other of Cypress, with this Motto: Erit altera merces; signifying thereby, the recompense of a generous man, was either a noble Victory, or an honourable Death; for that the Palm representing victory, the Cypress of the other side is a Symbol of death, being ordinarily used in the Funerals and Sepulchers of the dead. So was all the life of the blessed Virgin a perpetual standing pillar or Trophy, as is were, of incredible Mysteries, especially in the palm of her glorious Assumption, yet by the means of the Cypress of her death, since that was to be the way and the next step to her highest advancement, and the greatest victory of al.  
The Palm, is sharp and rough beneath, but smooth and handsome above; wherein S. Gregory saith in his Morals, the life of the just man is aptly represented, being bitter and rough in the exterior show and in the sensitive part, but yet sweet and delightful through contentments which the soul receives the while: So was the whole life of the Mother of GOD nothing else but a life of pains and doulours, especially at the passion of her dearest Son, which through compassion she made her own, but yet sweet for the end, to wit, of a life of rest and repose afterwards in the kingdom of Heaven, and of the ineffable joys of her glorious Assumption by the way, as riding in Triumph. Which Saint beside, makes yet another note, which is this; that the Palm herein is differing from other trees, in that the other are gross beneath, and grow slenderer upwards; while the Palm of the contrary, is slender beneath, and bigger and grosser, the higher it goes: So were the thoughts of the blessed Virgin, the true Palm indeed, as poor and slender down to the earth-wards, but substantial and solid up to the Heavens, whose conversation doubtless, as S. Paul saith, was wholly in Heaven.  
Strange things are reported of the Palms, to live mutually, and dye together. A singular type surely of the Sympathy between our two Palms, our Christ and his blessed Mother, affording one life, and as it were one selfsame death between them both. For Christ dying, she languished as dead; and he arising from his Sepulchre after his death, she revived again as it were from death. And so that same Epitaph more fitly might be applied to these Divine Lovers, our amorous Palms, which a certain Poet of ours had framed for a pair of profane Lovers, dying both with one and the selfsame sword: 
His being was in her alone,  
And he not being, she was none,  
They joyed one joy; one grief they grieved;  
One love they loved; one life they lived.  
The hand was one, one was the Sword,  
That did his death, her death afford.    

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
Phoenix (in Greek a Palm) doth aptly suit  
With that rare bird the Phoenix, here the fruit;  
Which, 
The Pause.  when bright Phoebus' scorching heames displays,  
A nest of Spices (to renew his days,  
By a second birth) upon this tree he makes:  
Where burnt to ashes so himself forsakes,  
Made young, that he retains what he had been.  
Thus th' only Son of God, t' abolish sin,  
Midst burning flames revest with mortal plume,  
Revives man's nature, which he doth assume;  
The Virgin- Phoenix is the fruitful tree,  
Where God in flames of Love, newborn would be.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  in the Palm, what a gratful shade it affords to weary travellers on the way, preserving them from the scorching rays of the Sun, and yielding them Dates to expel hunger, and not so only, but is a notable delicacy beside. The Monks and Fathers of Egypt, Thebarda, and Arabia, would make a goodly living with a Palmtree only by a crystal river side, subministring them all things needful, for meat, drink, and cloth, to satisfy nature. O rare and admirable tree! But then consider the Palm of Paradise; I say, the admirable Virgin Palm, under whose shadow and protection, we are saved from the outrageous heats of concupiscence, fed with the delicious examples of her life, and clothed with the habits of her virtues, and especially refreshed with the sweet consideration of the limpid streams of her purest chastity, no less than Nectar in the taste.  
Consider then, how as the Palm is rough without, narrow beneath, and broad on the top, whereon the Phoenix takes delight to build his nest: So was our blessed Lady in exterior show but course in the eyes of her Nazarean neighbours, being held for no more, than a Carpenter's wife; while she was truly indeed the Palm of Cades. Beneath she was narrow, that is, in the love of terrene things, whereon she touched as it were, but in a point only of the human nature, not acquainted with the impurities and miseries thereof: but broad on the top, that is, in Divine contemplation, and love of celestial things, where she always dwelled in the highest; and where the glorious Phoenix, the eternal Word, had taken up his nest for so many months, to issue thence a human Phoenix, her true and natural Son indeed.  
Ponder lastly, that as the Palm ever flourisheth and never withers, so our Incomparable Mother of GOD, had always fresh and flourishing thoughts, being holy and chaste; green and intentions, because most pure and neat; and green and flourishing affections, because very lively and active in the service of the Highest, whose lowly handmaid, notwithstanding her maternitie, she would be; nor decayed or withered ever, because ever entire and never once subject to corruption; 
Eccl. 24.  not in body, because embalmed with the Deity: As Cinnamon and balm aromatizing I have sent forth an odour; not in soul, because being united with the Soul, of her Son, they were made in a manner both as one, as by this is insinuated: A sword shall pierce through thy very soul: that is, thy soul, which is his; or his, which is thine: nor in Spirit, because through love she was truly converted into GOD; and S. Hierom saith: The grace of the holy-ghost had fully replenished her, and Divine Love had made her wholly white.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Stately and victorious Palm of Paradise, 
The Colloquy.  most triumphant Queen of heaven, City of refuge, Temple of Safeguard, House of the Living GOD, fair Couch of the mystical Solomon, and his Throne of ivory! Oh Sanctuary of GOD, the ark of peace, Seat of Wisdom, the Rest and repose of the most high GOD, the glorious Cabinet of a thousand and a thousand gifts of the most blessed holy-ghost, the precious Reliquatie of all infused graces! O sacred Pavilion, where GOD sets himself in the shadow of the rays of his great glory; most delicious Lady, most pure and gracious, in the midst of those Celestial pleasures, and Divine delectations of thine: Grant, I beseech thee, that I always rest under the shade of thy branches, within the folds of thy protection and sweet mercy, in this life; and when I shall finish the course of my pilgrimage, in this vale of miseries, it would please his Omnipotency, to unite my hart and spirit, with his more than holy Spirit, by the sacred link of his most fair and transforming love. This do I beg as the feet of thee, most sovereign Palm of the heavenly Paradise.    

THE XV. SYMBOL. THE HOUSE.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE House is an artificious Plasme, 
The Impresa  framed by the hand of man, for his use and habitation. It is a creature made in spite of Nature, to vie with her: That forasmuch as Man only is borne naked, and without a house to put his head in, afforded him by Nature, Art taking compassion on him, abundantly supplies the defect. There is nothing comes so suddenly to so great a growth, as it; for whereas an Elephant being one of the greatest among beasts, and yet by many degrees not so big as many Houses are, he is twenty years ere he comes to his full growth: a goodly house will be reared, and brought to perfection in less than a year. Plants will not grow without rain, or waters cast upon them, where this plantation hath no need of waters, but rather all industries are used to keep them out. The Tortoise in this respect, is better housed, not charged with reparations as long as his Lease lasts, for term of his life: but yet having none else to trust, to look unto it, he is fain to carry it about him. The Cockle hath his house, tiled with slate; which having no lock and key too, he is forced to keep at home for fear of thieves. And not so much as the poor snail but hath a house of his own, which in his pace, like a Pedlar with his pack, will he carry about him throughout the world, and do that with time, which the Sun can no more than do, with all his swiftness, Nay you eat not an Oyster, but you un-house him and put him out of his tenement. The Sun is the house of light, that needs no windows, being nothing else but light. And for the 12. principal houses and Palaces in the Heavens, they are but weakly built without foundation, more than the Astronomers working brains. The Moon is the house of the Flux and Reflux of the Seas, who thence go in and out by turns at their pleasures. The Almond is a house of the kernels within, which never comes forth till the roof comes fluttering down about her ears, that costs her life. The Hive, is a house and College of Bees, where they live Collegially together; the Combs are their refectory. The Birds, for proper houses, have their nests; whose children are the young ones, and she the good huswif that keeps at home.   

THE MORALS.  SEDES SAPIENTIAE. 
Look where the Prince is, 
The Motto.  there is the Court; and where the Court, there his Seat. Wisdom is the Prince of the whole Microcosm of man: His Court then, and seat must needs be in the Power of the Understanding, where he chiefly resides, and not where soever his dominion stretcheth; for so should he be in every place in person, which stands not with the Majesty of so great a Prince. Well may his Ministers, like Pursuivants and Heralds, perform and execute the Royal commands: as the hands, to make provisions to maintain the State; the feet, to travel for that purpose; the eyes, to keep Centenel in the turrets of his palace, and that near to his person, against foreign iwasions, and the like: but yet the Prince himself in his Royal person departs not a whit from his proper Chamber of presence, the Intellect. And GOD himself, the Monarch of the whole Vnivers, is seen to be every where within his Dominions, through his essence, power, and presence, but not in that particular manner, as he is in heaven, in his proper seat; or as he was in earth, in his humanity, or in the Sacrament itself most mysteriously and Divinely. For to speak in general, his seat is every where: The Heavens, are the roof; the Stars, the Ceilings; the earth all diaperd and diversified with infinite colours, his footstool and pavements; and the marvels of Nature, his shop of wonders, but his proper and peculiar seat, where he resides in, as in his Court, is either in the Empyreal Heaven (as I said) or in Christ's excellent Humanity, or in the most Venerable and dreadful Sacrament of the Altar; nor hath he made choice of any other seats to dwell in, as not worthy or able to comprehend him. Where then had Wisdom properly set up his seat, but in that palace he had built for himself, founded in so great an humility, and so well sustained with the sevenfold pillars of the holy-ghost, I mean, in the Virgin-Womb of the Incomparable Lady? who receiving, and so long entertaining the Wisdom Increated, in her virginal Lap, as the true Solomon indeed, reposing sweetly in his ivory Throne, may well be styled: SEDES SAPIENTIAE.   

THE ESSAY.  
A House being a mere artificial, 
The Review.  and no natural thing, hath its first subsistence in the Idea of Man's brain; according to whose model, good or i'll, the house so built, proves good or i'll. We recurre then to the Architect, for direction in al. This Architecture is a sovereign Mistress of building, which gives the addresses, for disposing all the parts of a house, with relations in themselves, in comeliness, proportion, ornaments, situation, distances, elevations, and a thousand of the like; of all which yealds it a pertinent and satisfactory reason to the curious examiners, why every thing is so done, this and not that. Some are Architects by hand only, and no more, who frame their buildings by rote, taking forth copies here and there, but can afford no reason at all for what they do, nor invent aught that is worth a rush; and for a final reason say nothing but, such is the custom so to do. Others are Architects by book only, and by discourses which they have read; but they have no hands to put in practice, and know but the Theory only; such as they, are good for nothing, but to build a house for Plato, of Ideas, all suspending in the air. The good Architect should link his spirit with his hand, and the compass with his reason, setting his hand to work, as well as the brain. The first do frame but bodies without a soul; the second, souls without a body; the third do build the whole, and are men of note and reputation indeed. The perfect Architect indeed should be ignorant in no Science; otherwise, if he do well, it is by chance, or else by nature, as beasts do, which do many goodly things, and know not why, nor wherefore. He had need be a Painter, to make his plains, elevations, designs, & to copie-out a thousand rarities to please the fantasy withal; a Geometrian, to handle the compass, for the use of Circles, rulers, squares, plummets, and the like; To have the Perspective, to let-in lights into his house, to steale-in the day in certain corners, to content the eye with diverse aspects; and if not directly to introduce the Sunny rays, at least obliquikly through reflections; The Arithmetic, to cast up and calculate the charges he is at, to number the materials and degrees that belong thereto; The History: for all the enrichments of buildings, Arms, statues, and other ornaments, are nothing else but History, true and feigned, which if he knows not, he shall commit a thousand errors; To have Philosophy, to know the nature of beasts, the seas, the elements, flowers, fruits, and all whatsoever in nature; Astrology and Physic, in planting his house in a wholesome and sound climate, in choosing the best Sun, a good wind, the purest air, wholesome waters, a fair and free prospect, a good situation for pleasure and profit. This is certain, that all art is then in truest perfection, when it may be reduced to some natural Principle or other. For what are the most judicious Artisans, but the Mimiks of Nature? This same in our House is seen, comparing it with the fabric of our natural bodies, wherein the high Architect of the world hath displayed such skill as even stupifyes the human reason to enter into it: Where the Hart, as the Fountain of life, is placed in the middle, for the more equal communication of the vital spirits; the Eyes seated aloft, to comprehend the greater circuit in their view; the arms, projected on each side for the use and commodity of reaching; Briefly, the place of every part, is determined by the use. Wherefore, the principal chambers of delight (as Studies and Libraries) should be towards the East: for the Morning is a friend to the Muses; All offices requiring heat, as Kitchens, Stil-houses, stoves, and rooms for baking, brewing, washing, or the like, would be Meridional; All that needs a cool & fresh temper, as Cellars, Pantries, Butteries granaryes, to the North; and so likewise all Galleryes appointed for gentle motion, especially in warm climes, to the West.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
THe chiefest grace, splendour, and glory of a house, 
The Survey.  is, that the Master thereof, who dwells therein, be markable & illustrious for singular & eminent virtues; since the chiefest ornament of a house is, the virtue of the Lord thereof. Now than the blessed Virgin, being eternally ordained to be a House and habitation of the Divine Word Incarnate, and wherein the Holy of holies for nine months, and the endless Fountain of all sanctity was corporally to inhabit, this sacred House must borrow needs so great a splendour & dignity, as no other, nor the Empyreal heaven itself, might any ways compare with it. What more? Howbeit the glory of that ancient house and Temple of Solomon were great, yet can none deny this defect in it, for being incapable to hold the greatness of GOD in its ample galleries & spaces, even by the genuine confession of Solomon himself: 
3. Reg. 8  If the Heaven and the Heaven of heavens can not contain thee, how much less this house which I have built? But the golden house of the blessed Virgin, more capacious than the heavens themselves, 
jer. 31. Eccl.  did close in and encompass the greatness of GOD on every side, as jeremy saith: A woman shall encompass a man. And the holy Catholic Church itself sings: Whom the Heavens can not contain, hast thou held in thy Lap.  
Besides that, which highly advanceth & sets forth the glory of a house, this same prerogative is of no small moment, to have been deciphered, delineated, plotted, and contrived, & even raised and built from the first foundation by a skilful & exquisite Architect. Behold GOD himself, the Supreme Architect, not only designed this House, but even finished it himself, & brought the same to that eminent perfection, 
Prou. 86.  it is of: I have been eternally ordained. Behold the plotting, contriving, 
Psal. 86.  & designing of our House; The Highest himself hath founded her, where note the foundation.  
I know, how Ovid in his Metamorphosis describes the house of the Sun very elegantly in this manner: 
The Palace of the Sun, on pillars highly placed,  
With burnished gold did shine, and Pyrops stone,  
And ceiling roofs with purest Iu'rie graced.  But who sees not, how this House here, wherein the Sun of justice dwelled, did far exceed the same, whose ornaments surpasseth those, by infinite degrees? for whose golden pillars, were the Gifts of the holy-ghost erected in her; for whose Pyropus or Carbuncle, which even glows like a burning coal, her most ardent Charity abundantly supplied; & for the white & purest ivourie, her inviolable & immaculate Virginity. Whence, while the most blessed Virgin Marry more plentifully abounded with the gifts of the holy-ghost, she burned more ardently with Charity; and in virginal purity was more neat, than the heavenly Spirits themselves; surely more strong and stately Pillars sustained this house, more precious Carbuncles enriched it, & purer juourie adorned it, than those others did the Ovidian Palace of the Sun.  
I have sanctified this House, which thou hast built, to put my name eternally therein, 
3. Reg. 9  said GOD to Solomon, not being yet (as I suppose) affected so to that material house, as he pretended thereby rather to show the love he bore to his spiritual house, & yet corporal both, of his Incomparable Mother, whom he hath so sanctified with his eternal predestination before, and enriched so with his personal presence, to put his name eternally in her. For that saying can not so well be verified of the house built by Solomon, which was afterwards demolished & razed; but rather of Marie here, who shall be said & preached for ever, the Temple of GOD, the holy House, where all glory hath entered in, as to a chaste Bower, & which hath never been ruined like that of Solomon; for that her foundations have been planted in the holy mountains, as David saith, that is to say, by the Divine People of the Holy Trinity; while the power of the Father hath confirmed her in goodness, the Son hath illustrated her with Wisdom, & the holy-ghost preserved and established her in his grace.  
Material houses, which are built but of frail matter & transitory stuff, 
job. 4▪  diversely fall to rubbage, & are soon demolished quite, as job saith: Who dwell in clay houses, have a terrene foundation. But the body of Marie, howbeit otherwise framed of a frail matter, is nevertheless so consolidated & confirmed through the fire of the Holy Ghost, as she is subject to no demolishment or dissolution at all; & as she said in the Canticles, that leaning or resting on her well-beloved, she was strong as the mountain of Zion, 
Cant 2.  having such confidence in him. So as truly the prophecy of Aggeus was fully accomplished in her: 
Agg. 2.  That the glory of the latter house should be greater than that of the former. For as in the building of the first, was heard no noise or the least stroke of any hammer: so here in this House of Marie, could not be heard so much as the least sound or touch of Original Sin, so built by the Divine Wisdom, who was a more expert Architect by far, then Solomon was, of whom is verified that which David so long before had prophesied & foretold: 
Ps. 111.  That glory and riches should be in the house of the Divine Wisdom, and its justice shall be perpetual.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
Have, 
The Pause.  Who dwells here? A Virgin. What are you?  
A Paranymph sent far, am come to sue  
For one that pilgrime-like would lodge this night  
Under your roof, and be a mortal wight,  
Comes as a Bridegroom. here's no harbouring seat.  
But he's a Monarch. Then for me too great.  
he's GOD. He now, & ever lodged with me.  
Would be a child, your Son. How can this be?  
By th' holy-ghost you shall be shadowed over;  
You let him in by keeping closed your door.  
Then be it done. One Fiat banished night,  
And now an other brings from heaven the Light.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, that as in every House well built, 
The Contemplation.  and orderly disposed, there is a Dining-room at least; and a handsome chamber for some principal guest to lodge in; so this golden House, the Mother of GOD, which he had so eternally prepared for himself, was not contrived without them both. And first for the Dining-room, King Solomon made him a Throne of the wood of Libanus; which wooden Throne was the blessed Virgin, because the heavenly Prince and bridegroom sat and lay sweetly reposed in her arms and womb delightful unto him, while he took flesh of her. She was a Bride-chamber, because a golden couch. For as gold is beautiful, incorruptible, and refulgent: So was her virtue golden, because beautiful for sincerity of manners; incorruptible, through privilege of Virginity; and refulgent, for her lustre of Virtues. O how beautiful! behold the beauty of her manners, chaste generation: 
Sap. 4.  see the privilege of Virginity; With clarity: note the lustre of Virtues.  
Consider then, that as a House hath also Galleries for recreation and delight, so had our Mystical House here, delicious galleries to walk in, and, for variety, three: to wit, the lower, the middle, and the upper gallery. The lower was sustained with silver pillars; and therefore is it said, that wisdom erected silver pillars. The middle was paved with precious stones, according to that: The middle was strewed with charity. The highest was hanged with silks and purples; and therefore is added a purple ascent. The lower gallery of this virginal house, was the precious body of the Virgin; the middle, her purest soul; and the highest, her sublime and Angelical spirit. Her body was the lower gallery, because her sensuality was never prone to evil, but always comformable to reason. Her soul, the second; because strewed with precious stones, that is, Divine virtues. Her Spirit was the upper gallery, & adorned with purple hang, for being so inflamed with charity, or wounded with the sorrow of her son's passion, or sprinkled with his blood.  
Ponder lastly, as a house, especially the Palace of Kings, requires to be spacious and ample; so was this House, our Lady, being the House of GOD, most spacious & wide; according to that which the Church sings of her: Whom the heavens can not contain, hast thou held in thy lap. Secondly, wide and ample in compassion, while she receives all, and refuseth none, into the bowels of her mercy; receiving the tempted, in prtoecting them from the snares of the Devil; Sinners, in obtaining mercy and grace for them; the Just, in conserving them in grace obtained; and lastly the Dying, in receiving their souls into her protection: and therefore said to be Mother of grace, and mother of mercy.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Sacred House, 
The Colloquy.  Temple of the Divinity, & Divine Tabernacle of the living GOD! A work surely much greater than the workmanship of the world beside! O sacred Palace framed by the Divine hand, with admirable art, and most exquisite & choice matter; a piece of workmanship without peer, erected by the Divine Wisdom, imputrible Arck incorruptible vessel, Celestial Temple, City of God. 
Psal. 86  Oh what glorious things are said of thee! Thou wast ordained eternally, 
Eccl. 24.  before the earth was made. The Lord hath possessed thee from the beginning of his ways, 
Prou. 8.  & thou wast before his works. Thou wast begot, when as yet there was no abysses seen; thou wast form before mountains were yet placed. When he prepared the heavens, was thou present. By all the see fair prerogatives we beseech thee, Incomparable piece of his handy work so long designed & premeditated before hand, & so exactly framed at last to his own Idea & design, that in us likewise his eternal design of predestination through our defaults may not utterly perish.    

THE XVI. SYMBOL. THE HEN.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Hen is that gentle Hart, that contents herself with the common Apellative of her sex; 
The Impresae  & as others ambitiously usurp strange titles, as in Hawks, for males or females (as the manner is) to be called Lady, Mistress, & the like, she will go no higher than the style of plain Goodwif, & be called the Hen, and will take it amiss, to be termed otherwise. Yet is she the dear consort of the generous Chantecler, and his dearest beloved partner, and most individual companion. She is very familiar and domestical, and that so truly as she will never go from home so much as a flights shot. But is so kindhearted to all, especially to her own children, as she hath not a dish, which she shares not among them. It is sport to see, how she knocks to her dresser, to have them come quickly, if she have but a bit worth the eating, and then to see what strife there will be amongst the little fry of them, for a single grain of corn, as the ambitious of the world for a Crown & sceptre, or as Caesar and Pompey for the Empire and Dictatourship of Rome itself; while the Hen falls a delving and digging afresh for more. She will be as fierce as a Tiger or Nemean Lioness against the assassinats, who are so bold at to seize on her family, when she will bristle herself and fly in the faces of the cruelest Bandites that are of the land, or Pirates of the air, on behalf of her brood; and triumph as fast, if she come but handsomely off with her own. And then must all the world take notice of her conquests, and she be recounting the same to her dear consort, who will swell thereat and bristle as fast; and even menace the skies in his greatestcholer. She is no great Arithmetician, and hath but a shallow memory; for she never knows, how many young she hath; & so she have any at all, she is pleased alike. She loves not her children so much, as the name of Mother; which holds in one, as well as a 100 She is not a Castle, or Bulwark, which keep their stands attending the assailants; but as a Pink at sea, well maned, will meet and encounter the Adversaries themselves, and defy them to their teeth, and with the sails of her wings will seem to fetch the wind of them, to fly the fuller into their faces. But if she be let alone, and not provoked, there is no Dove more meek and gentle them she.   

THE MORALS.  TUTELA FIDISSIMA. 
IT is hard to say, 
The Motto.  which is better, to give protection to others, or to find it for themselves; this am I sure of, the first is more specious and glorious, the latter more happy and secure. It is said indeed: Beatius est dare quam accipere, because it is supposed, who hath to give, hath otherwise no need to crave, wherein the beatitude consists; whereas who finds protection now, was of late in distress, or fear of danger; so as though he hath the happiness now, to dry up his watery eyes, yet not the privilege, to have them never to dry. To give protection, involves a power to be able to afford it; to take the same, implies a necessity to recurre unto it: the first hath a kind of obligation with it, if not of justice, of charity at least, to yield his succours: in which estate he ever stands, & consequently in a state of servitude, because obliged. But the second discovers his impotency only, and present i'll condition; but yet with a hope of enfranchizment, and a kind of title unto it; yea many times an absolute freedom and quite discharge of further cares. The truth is, howsoever the first, as it is more honourable, so is it more happy, & as approaching nearer to the sovereign excellency of GOD himself, is acquit from any imperfection of servile obligation; but all what is, is merely a goodness in him, that seems to put the obligation upon him, which is no more indeed, than a kind of virtue in him, that makes him so prompt and ready to help the miserable in all necessities. This excellency and singular privilege the glorious Vrgin hath, of power, to protect; & of benevolence, to have the will to protect; with the happiness beside of an infallible efficacy in all whatsoever she undertakes. And therefore is she implored of all, and held to be the common Sanctuary of the necessitous that fly unto her, & especial Patroness and sure Protectrice of her Devotees, and by consequence rightly and deservedly called: TUTELA FIDISSIMA.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE Cock is very glorious, 
The Review.  when he hath all his attires and accoutrements about him; for than he will strut it, as a soldier right; he buckles himself against his enemies, and with his wing making a target or buckler, defends, covers, and shrouds the chickens from the assaults of the Raven; and falls a quarrelling with every one, either friend or so, that approaches or but looks upon them. And for the Hen herself, before she lays her eggs, as others do, she begins to provide and take care for her lying down. For she chooses her a quiet place to breed in, and builds a nest or couch to sit in, and makes it very soft, as knowing well her eggs would bruise and destroy one an other, if they be not commodiously and handsomely laid. Her young are no sooner hatched, but she presently clucks them with her wings, lest the cold or sharper air should hurt them; and is so tender of them, as that if a Kite or Wesel come in sight of her, receiving them under the shadow of her wings, she opposes herself as a stout champion against them, with a great clamour and outcry, to strike a terror into them, defending them herself with spur, bill, and wings, with might and main, so as she will rather even dye in the place in defence of her brood, then by flying away leave them in any danger. To some she will present her wings to cluck beneath, to others yield her back to mount upon, nor hath she any part about her, which she is not willing to afford them what she may, to cherish and conserve them; nor that truly without joy and alacrity, as appears by their kackle and tone they have at such times. When she is alone, and hath no more to care for then herself, she trembles at the Hawk and buzzard, and will fly away from them; but if she have young, and espy any danger near, she comes forth like a Lion against them in their defence, and fights oftentimes far beyond her forces.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
NOW is this Hen truly a gallant Symbol of the fruitful Mother of GOD, 
The Survey.  as well for the plenty of eggs she lays (for they will lay, some two, and some three a day) as also for breeding so each month of the year, whereof though Aristotle and Pliny except the two winter-moneths, yet experience shows and some Authors affirm, they will lay also in those months, and some there are, that will lay two a day even in those months likewise; which surely is a great fecundity, not lightly found in any fowl beside. For lo, the blessed Virgin hath a double fecundity with her, one natural, & the other mystical: the natural, in bringing forth CHRIST, whose natural Mother she was; and being his Mother, she was Mother in a sort to as many, as are called an are truly Christians: whilst of this one her seed became multiplied beyond the Stars in heaven, & above the sands, that lie on the Seashores. But what shall I say of her mystical fruitfulness, which even fills and embraceth the whole world, that invocates and calls upon the name of MARRY, as their common Mother? Behold all the kingdoms thereof, and all the ample Provinces, and you shall find them full of her Devotees and Children. Nor is Hungary only her proper damilie, which title she hath taken, and yet holds from the donation of S. Stephen King of that Nation, who freely and devoutly once consecrated the same to the Mother of GOD; but even our England is known also by the name and title of our Lady's Dowry: Yea Erance, Spain, Italy, and Germany, and the rest of the Kingdoms and Provinces of the world, whose affection and devotion is no less to this common Parent, our Incomparable Lady, the Mother of GOD. But nothing demonstrates her spiritual secunditie so much as the innumerable multitude of Families of the sodality o● her Immaculate Conception, the true Parthenian Children of our sacred Parthenes. For in how short a time, throughout all Europe first, & then through America, the new world, the Indies as well the East as West, have Sodalities of all sorts & conditions whatsoever either Secular or Ecclesiastical been instituted, under the sovereign and most blessed name of MARIE? which with all observance and due worship serve her as the Mother of GOD, and their common Parent: while they doubt not by her means to be led and conduced to a better life, and to obtain Eternal salvation, if they serve her truly indeed, and but observe the Rules of her said Sodalities.  
Besides the property, the Hen hath to defend her chickens, during life, this is singular in her, that even after death, she is sovereign and medicinal for infinite diseases, and her body the choicest diet for the sick and infirm. And therefore is the Cock consecrated to Esculapius the Inuentour of Physic.  
And for our Lady, what need I say more than that versicle of her Litanies: Salus Infirmorum? because she procures health both of body and soul. For is there a disease in any part of the body of man, even running through the whole Catalogue of maladies, whereto present remedy hath not been begged and obtained of our mysterious Hen, the sovereign Mother of GOD? O what a thing it were to reckon up the Temples & Chapels, & therein the Votes, tables, & waxen images set up as testimonies of her infinite cures! Nor helps she the body more than the soul. For Pride she heals no less, than the headache; Vanity no less, than the vertigo or turning of the head; Wrath no seldomer than the frenzy; Sloth, them the Lethargy: Ignorance as easily, as the Pin & web in the eye; Lust, as the disease belonging to it: Gluitonie, as the Consumption: & Avarice, as the dropsy.  
There is yet another thing which I note in the Hen, 
Arist l. 9 c. 49.  not so much out of Aristotle, as by experience, though Aristotle hath it likewise: that the Hen is a great scraper in the dust, which especially they do for three causes: as well by busking thereinto satisfy the itching they have in themselues, & to mend their plumes & feathers, as also to shakeoff the venim about them. Our Hen likewise most willingly busked & rolled herself in herdust & ashes also. Dust is the beginning of human generation, & the origin of our vile extraction; & Ashes the very Epilogue thereof: whence both are the Symbol of our birth & end; & thence Humility. All men are earth & ashes. Why art thou proud, thou earth & ashes? 
Ec. 19  In these cogitations & the like, 
Ec●. 10.  as in a heap of dust, the most Blessed Virgin continually volued herself, revolving nothing so much in mind, as her dust and proper extraction. Whence that: Behold the handmaid of our Lord. God hath regarded the lowliness of his hand maid.  
But how then, O mysterious Hen, lovest thou dust so well, hating all foulness and sordities so much? Feltst thou the itching of Vanity a whit, that thou shouldst scrape in that sort? No, not the least itching of vain ostentation infested thee, the immaculate Virgin. Or wouldst thou have pranked thy quills & plumage of supernal affects? It was not needful, since they were without any lets to hinder them at al. Or was thy intention, to shake off at least any evil cogitations? Not so likewise; no such thing had ever access or ingress into that purest mind. No temptation of arrogancy, ostentation, or pride could ever find admittance there. But truly, this it was; thou lovedst Humility, which thou knewest to be gratful and acceptable to thy Son, which could no where more appear, then in the dust of human nullity, then in the ashes of mortality, and thy proper annihilation. An other reason may be also, why thou diggest so in the dust of thy Nothing: to find, as Hens are wont in the dust, some food more acceptable to them; for this is a main cause likewise of their so frequent scraping in the dust; & who knows perhaps, whether they may not light on a gem or no? for so it hath been known. The most humble Virgin Marie indeed even nourished herself with humility, as a most savoury food unto her; this she supposed to lie in the dust of her proper abjection; and therefore with claws of consideration, never left she digging and scraping it forth; nor was she any whit deceived; the earth of her abstraction, gave her abundantly to feed most deliciously. And which is more, she found, in so doing, the precious gem indeed, which was so enamoured with her humility, as he even stooped into the dust, to be there found by this mysterious and blessed Hen.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
NO mother, 
The Pause.  like the Hen, preserves her young,  
Protects, & shelters with her wings; her tongne  
Is clucking with a sad and doleful note;  
Calls back her chickens, when they are remote;  
And if they come not, chides sharp, shrill, & loud;  
With beck & tallions fights for them. Thus shroud,  
OVirgin Mother, while the Puttock flies,  
(The Prince of darkness) who with watchful eyes  
Seeks for my Soul, his prey. The Hen is known,  
Careful of al. Yet if she hath but one,  
Her care's as great. So's thine of one, or other.  
Then to me Sinner, show thyself a mother.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, the great magnanimity of the Hen, 
The Contemplation.  in defence of her chickens, as above said. And then reflect upon the courage and fortitude of our victorious Patroness, the glorious Virgin, especially in the protection likewise of her Children; for to her enemies is she terrible as a battle well arrayed. As an army well marshaled, is a terror to the enemies, and makes them fly at the sight thereof, before they enter into fight: so are the Devils daunted at the presence of this invincible Champion, standing in defence of her Clients and Children.  
Consider then, the great compassion of the Hen towards her young; which appears in this, that with the sick and infirm, she will be infirm; she is so solicitous in feeding them, as she finds not a grain, but she calls them to her, to participate thereof: And for her care of preserving them from danger, she clucks them under her wings, from the rapine of the kites, and the like ravenous fowl. And then weigh withal the tender compassion the Virgin-Mother hath ever shown towards us her Children and Servants, in being so solicitous to feed us, while she was on earth, with the food of her doctrine: She hath opened her mouth in wisdom, and the law of clemency in her tongue; and for custody, 
Pro. 31.  how she hides us under her wings, and protects us from the snares of the Devil. For this is she, 
Ap. 12.  to whom was said, that two great wings were given her: The one, the wing of Mercy, to which Sinners do fly to be reconciled to GOD; according to the Prophet: Protect me under the shadow of thy wings; The other, that of Grace, under which the Just remain, to be conserved in grace, and may say with him likewise: She hath shadowed us with her shoulders.  
Ponder lastly, how the Hen not only sits upon her own eggs, but sometimes strangers likewise, as the eggs of Ducks and peahens, put into her nest, which being hatched, the Ducks according to kind will betake themselves to the waters, and there dive and plunge themselves over head and ears; and the young peahens enamoured with their own beauty will forsake their tender nurse that bred them up. And then weigh withal, how many strange and ungratful children our mysterious Hen, the admirable Virgin, cherishes and nurse; with her daily protection, who requite her i'll for all her care in training them up.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Queen of Angels, saluted by the Archangel, 
The Colloquy.  adored by the Powers of Heaven, Mistress of Virtues, Duchess of Principalities, Lady of Dominations, Princess of Thrones, more highly advanced then the Cherubins themselves, more inflamed with ardour os Divine love, than all the Seraphins; The first next to God, the second in the Role or Register of the Predestinate: Thou most terrible to thy foes, as an Host well arrayed; and yet infirm with the infirm, as a Hen amid her chickens, most tender of them, & a most sure bulwark for them, against all incursions and assaults of foreign and domestic enemies, either visible or invisible. O thou, who through thy Son, and thy matchless humility, hast crushed the Serpent's head: through thy holy prayer and intercession, I beseech thee, let Satan be trampled likewise, under thy Servant's feet. O grant this same, mysterious and Indulgent Bird of Paradise.    

THE XVII. SYMBOL. THE PEARL.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Pearl, or Margaret, the Lillieamong jewels, is the peerless Gem of Nature, 
The Impresa  so much happier than the rest, as nobler descended than they: this being bred in the womb of the sea, and they in the bowels of the earth. If they be stillicides from Heaven (as some think) they are the milky drops distilled from Juno's breast, which Sol parcheth into seeds; which seeds empearle in those little Ovens lying on the beach. The Diamant that sparkles so, though rich indeed, arrives not to that wealth without trade, and exercise of the jeweller, in passing the file and chizel, whereas the Pearl needs none of those to raise its fortunes by, but is truly borne a Ptince. They are the ordinary companions of the greatest Ladies, and so chaste as they will be dandling in their necks, without sensuality in themselves, or those they dally with, without jealousy of any. They are true Subsidy-men, and such Sureties indeed, as their credit will be taken for as much as they are worth. If you would epitomise an ample estate, & put the same into a little Compendium, with Bias to carry your wealth about you, sell what you have, and put it into Pearl. If you have any suit in Court, it will purchase greater friends, and procure you better preferments, than the best deserts. Like a pin and web, it will put out the eyes of Lynceus himself, not to see what he should. It is the key, that will set open the jail to the worst conditions; and the bolt to shut upon the best deservings. What civil wars could never effect, the Pearl or Union hath infallibly brought to pass, to wit, the ruin of that great Triumvirate, being disunited or dissolved: what would it then have done, if united? It is called Oriental, as much to say, as it makes all men to arise unto it, to do it homage: and will make you more place in a throng of people, of mere respect, than a ruffling Whiffler shall do with torch in hand. In fine, it is a rich Treasury of rarities enclosed in a box of Pearl.   

THE MORALS.  PRECIOSA ET CAELESTIS. 
RAre things are likely precious, 
The Motto.  and precious rare: not that scarcity alone should set the price, or price and value make them rare; but that the ordinance of GOD is such, to have them so, that things which are excellent in themselves, should be rare and scarce to be found, that pearls (for worth) might not be cast to swine, or trampled under foot. Monsters are rare indeed, and yet most hateful, and prodigious. It is the worth than that gives the price to things. The Sibyl's Books were valued less being nine, then when they were but three; not for the plenty of the nine, or scarcity of the three; but to let Tarqvinius see, the true estimate and value of each one; and had he not perhaps taken her at last at her word, as he did, he had paid as much for one alone, as for the nine, or gone without it. Yea gold itself, were it as common happily as many other things are of little worth, would yet be in as great esteem as now it is, through a certain excellence it hath in itself above others. And therefore S. john did very well, to dress up GOD all in gold, and pave the Paradise of joys with the same: for otherwise, do I fear, that many an one, would never have had any great thirst after it; who perhaps would better have liked the horns of Lucifer, tipped with gold, than those of the Moon with silver, or the burning crystal of the Sun. Who would think, that a piece of earth, taken, as it were, with the disease of the yellow jaundice, being no more indeed then a yellow earth, a glittering Stone, a kind of froth boiling from Hell, should have such a power upon reasonable men? So as well it may seem, to be the Golden Age, since all is set upon gold; they wish but gold, they speak or think of nothing else but gold, when lo, the Gold of gold, the precious Margarit of Pearls, is truly valuable indeed, the Incomparable Virgin-Mother, I mean, who is either the Pearl itself, or Mother of the true Oriental Pearl, which descended from heaven, and therefore is worthily called: PRECIOSA ET CAELESTIS.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE true Pearl hath a lustre of silver with it, which will not soil a whit, nor wax yellow; 
The Review.  its skin fears no nipping of the frosts, nor the tooth of Time. It is bred in the Sea, and seems to disdain the fare of its Hostess, the Scallop, wherein it is a prisoner, while it takes its food from the heavens, and hath its whole alliance with them. They use to counterfeit the same in a thousand manners with glass, and above all, with the Mother-Pearl, in beating it to powder, and making a past thereof, and then causing pigeons to let it down, which with their natural heat do boil and polish it in the manner it is, and then put it forth again. The Mother-pearl engenders from the heavens, and lives but of celestial Nectar, to bring forth her Pearl withal, either silver, pale, or yellowish, according as the Sun makes it, or the air, whence it feeds, be more or less pure. Receiving then the dew of Heaven into the gaping shell, it forms little grains or seeds within it, which cleave to its sides, then grow hard, and geale, as it were: and so Nature by little and little polishes them through favour of the Sunny beams, and at last they become the Oriental Pearls; and as the Dew is greater or less, the Pearls become the bigger and fairer. The Pearl in powder, is good in a manner for all maladies. It grows not only in the flesh of the fish, but in the mother itself, or shell without the fish. It is tender within the mother, but grows hard as soon as taken out of the water. The greatest gallantry of Ladies, is to have them dangling at their ears by half dozen, whence are they called Cymbals; they will say likewise: a fair Pearl in the ear, is as good as an Usher to make them way in a press. Cleopatra wore two of them, which were worth a million and a half; whereof one she swallowed down, being first dissolved by vinegar.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
IF you look now into the mysteries of all natural Secrets, 
The Review.  you shall find none to symbolise better with the Virgin Marie, this Margarit of ours, than this same Pearl or precious Margarit of the Sea: if especially we regard but the names only, wherewith they are styled, the one of Marie, the other of Margarit, and both having so great alliances with the Seas: the one being, amarum mare, a bitter sea: and the other, as wholly borne and bred in the seas; the one importunately begged and obtained of GOD, by Anna her Mother: and the other, as greedily gaped-after from the Heavens, and especially from the Sun, by the Mother of Pearl, so properly called by like, for her motherly & maternal appetite to engender and bring forth; and we all know, what Pearls of sanctity are lightly brought into the world, with so great importunities. But if we look into the other congruities between them, we shall find them to sympathise so, as we may well term our Virgin-Mother, a Pearl or Margarit of the Heavens, as the other of the Seas.  
The Margarit, as I said, is bred in the Sea; which Isidor affirms, and that in this manner. At certain times of the year, to wit, in the Spring and Autumn, the cockles, oysters, or scollops, or call them what you will, approach to the Seashore, and lie there gaping, and opening themselves, and receive the celestial dew into their bowels; from the coagulation whereof, as abovesaid, are the Margarits engendered. Now this Shelfish, oyster, or Mother-Pearl (for the Mother, or issue Pearl, are all of a substance, as mothers and embryos use to be) is the Virgin-Mother-Pearl itself, which opened her Virginal soul, at her mysterious Annunciation, in the Spring of the year, by the quiet shore of her tacit and silent contemplation, to receive the heavenly Dew, the new Margarit: that is, to conceive that precious Pearl, Christ jesus, in her womb. For she opened her consent, to the great Angel, her singular Paranimph, to obey GOD in all things, saying: Behold the handmaid of our Lord, etc. and her soul likewise to the holy-ghost, to overshadow her: and after the opening thus of her free consent, and her Angelical soul, the Celestial dew of the holy-ghost descended into her, and so this infant- Pearl was divinely begot in the virginal womb of the Virgin-mother- Pearl. Of which deawing of the holy-ghost, and opening of the Blessed Virgin thereunto, it is prophetically said: Dew you heavens thereupon, 
Isay. 45  and let the clouds rain down the Just; let the earth open and bring forth the Saviour.  
These Pearls beside, if they be right Margarits indeed, are fair, white, and clear; for such as are so, are truly of the best, and a great deal better than those which are dimmer, and of a yellow and duskish colour. For those which are fair, white, and clear, are bred of the morning-deaw; and the others, of that which falls in the evenings. And our Incomparable Margarit, was predestinate so from the morning of the eternal Decree in Heaven, so created, as it were, ab initio & ante secula, while the other pearls of less regard were only produced in the evening, after that sin was brought into the world.  
This Margarit therefore so fair, so white, and clear, signify our heavenly Margarit and glorious Virgin, who was beautiful and fair in mind through a more than Angelical purity of hers consisting in the mind; most snowy and white in body, through an immaculate chastity and virginity; and clear and sincere in works, through a simple sanctity, and Saintlie simplicity in all her actions, in the whole course of her blessed and incomparable life, which she led on earth.  
I said above, that Pearls being stamped and beat to powder are wholesome, sovereign, and medicinal for many maladies; whereof I find the Naturalists chiefly to reckon three: First, they are purgative, because they purge and evacuate the body of all noxious and superflwous humours; secondly, restrictive, staying the flux of blood or venture; and thirdly, they comfort and corroborate the hart, being ready to faint or swoon through debility of the spirits, or the vital parts. To these infirmities, the applications of these pownded Pearls so beat to powder, are of singular avail. In this manner the Blessed Virgin, being seriously pressed with importunity of prayers, and often urged and called upon with incessant vows, relenting and mollifyed at last, as fallen into powder, applies herself, first through a purgative power to purge us of our sins, by procuring us the grace of Contrition, and the wholesome Sacrament of Penance, to bewail and purge our sins past; secondly, with her restrictive virtue, to restrain the soul from flowing and falling again into future sins; and thirdly, with her restorative, comfortative, and corroborative power, to strengthen and fortify the hart, in present occasions of sins.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
A Rare and precious Pearl is hardly found,  
That's Great, & Heavy, Smooth, pure-white and Round. 
The Pause.   
The Son of God came from his heavenly Throne,  
Factor for Pearls, aet last found such an one.  
Great, to contain himself; & Heavy, full of grace.  
And therefore sunk unto a Handmayds' place.  
Smooth without knob of Sinne. Virgin pure-white.  
Round in perfection, more than mortal wight.  
This pleased his eye; a long time having sought,  
Gave all that ere he had, & this he bought.  
Vnion's a Pearl (no twins) it-self, but one;  
Such was the Virgin-Mother Paragon.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, how this Pearl or Margarit is usually called, 
The Contemplation.  as we said, by the name of Union; whether it be for the great union and sympathy there is, between the Mother and the Pearl, I know not; for you can not mention the Mother's name, but needs must you bring-in the Pearl withal: or for the union of the Celestial dew, with the Conchal nature, to make up a Pearl, in the lap of the fish, I will not say: this I am sure of, that our blessed Pearl here is called Deipara, as much to say, as the Mother of GOD; nor can she be so called a Mother, as she is, but GOD must needs be united to her, to make up her name.  
Consider then, that as the Mother-pearl, being otherwise only a mere shellfish of its own nature, and of no greater a rank than a plain oyster of the Sea: yet through the appetite she had to suck, and draw in the heavenly dew into her bowels, obtained the especial privilege and prerogative, to become indeed the Mother of the true oriental Pearl. So the virgin-mother, though she were, as she said herself, the silly handmaid of our Lord, and of our human nature, subject to the natural fray leties thereof; yet through a singular immunity with the purity of her intention, integrity of body, and Angelical candour of mind, disposing herself most affectuously and ardently indeed, to receive the Celestial dews from heaven, that is, the grace of perfect Union with GOD, in her pure soul, she deserved to become the Mother of the Pearl of Pearls, sweet JESUS.  
Ponder lastly, that if a mere Pearl, being so basely bred in an oyster-shel, whose extract at the best is but mere Dews let fall from the neither Region of the Air, and those but drops of fresh water, as it were impearled in the fish, through benefit of the Sun should come to be so highly prized as we have said, being no more than a mere seed of Pearl somewhat fairer than the rest of that kind; how are we to prize and magnify, trow you, our heavenly Pearl here, whether you mean the Pearl, or Mother herself? the Pearl himself, for being such a Pearl so truly descending from heaven; and her, for being the Mother of such a Pearl.   

THE APOSTROPHE  
MOST sweet, most debonnaire Virgin-Mother, 
The Coll●quie.  the Immaculate through emphasis, the Mother of faeyre dilection, Mother of jesus, regard me poor wretched soul, and obtain, that my hart and affection be pure and clean, at least like the seed pearl, according to the proportion of my littleness, and my body wholly free, from the duskish blemishes of the least sins, and that by day and night my thoughts being repurged from all immundicities and unclean objects, the flourishing bed of my Fancy, may never be soiled more, to offend thine eyes, and those of the Immaculate Pearl of thy womb, the Spouse of my soul, CHRIST JESUS.    

THE XVIII. SYMBOL. THE DOVE.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Dove is the true and perfect type of Love; 
The Impresa  let them but change caps with each other, and the Dove shall be Love, and Love a Dove. If Venus betake her to her Chariot, she is drawn with the team of four of them, as Poets say. This are we sure of, the holy-ghost, the essential Divine love, hath been seen to appear, as carried with Charity, in the form and figure of a Dove. The Doves are never in their proper element more, nor better pleased, then in digging them holes in the rock, and planting their little pavilions there. And the Eyes (the Agents of Love) like a pair of twinlike Doves have set up their rests, and built their nests, as it were, in the hollow concaves of the brows, in service of Love.. The Dove is the trusty messenger, or winged Post of the Air, that carries letters to and fro, in matters of the greatest importance; which she fails not to deliver with the hazard of her life, nor ever misseth, but it costs her the best blood of her body. She is even an arrow, and verily as swift as it, but without a steely head to hurt withal, as having no gall within her, or curstness in the bill. She is a very sociable creature, and apt for Cities; witness their Dovecots, where they live in great peace and neighbourhood together; and not of fear, as some, do they flock together in great troops, but merely of love and charity one to an other. She is very abstemious and religious in her diet, and will not feed on those fleshpots of Egypt, that first came-in with that Patriarch and second Parent of our kind; contenting herself with bread alone, allowed even from Adam's time, who tilled and ploughed the first of any. She is hot by nature, & yet of condition a Moses for meekness, and even the very Lamb of birds; if not so able to clothe our nakedness with her wool as he, yet surely she would, if she could; yet ever ready and prompt to lodge us in her downs. And when she can not stead us otherwise, she will afford her body, to be sacrificed by us, as an entire holocaust of her good nature.   

THE MORALS.  IN FORAMINIBUS PETRAE. 
WHO will give me the wings of a Dove (the Prophet saith) and I will fly and rest? The Dove would fly, 
The Motto.  and then rest: fly in the exercise of all virtues, and then rest in the contemplation of the Divine attributes; or fly in the meditation of our saviour's life, & then rest in the deep contemplation of his bitter passion; fly in reading the Divine Scriptures, that point us the Rock; and rest in digging in the holes of the said Rock, the blessed stigmats of his venerable and sacred wounds. For Reading indeed, though it much avail to lead us to the Rock, yet diues not so deep into the Rock, as serious Meditation doth; & Meditation though it dig into the Rock, yet dwells not so quietly there, nor rests so sweetly in the Rock, as a deep Contemplation doth; while Reading regards but the shell only, that is, brings to the Rock; Meditation, the kernel, that is, digs into the Rock; but Contemplation swallows & relisheth the kernel, that is, dwells and sets up its rest in the Rock. Reading looks but superficially thereinto; Meditation bores and enters into it; but Contemplation diues and sounds into the depth. Reading exhibits the breasts of the Mother-Church, in opening the books of the Old and New Testament; but Meditation, and more Contemplation, wrings them, to fetch out the milk to nourish withal. Reading crops off the ears of corn; and Meditation and Contemplation, as with the fingar and thumb, wrings out the grain; then grinds it to meal, till it comes to be bread and food of men. And this the tender and compassionate Mother did, who flying, like to the Dove, all the time of her life, never rested herself, till finding her Son, become a Rock of scandal and reproach, and piteously bored on every side, she enters into them, and dwells within them; and if you ask her, where she is, might very well answer: IN FORAMINIBUS PETRAE.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE Dove, the Mercury of birds, the faithful Messenger of No, 
The Review.  the friend to the Olive, hath properly no colour of her own to know or distinguish her by; so is she universal for all; in this only she is singular above the rest, that being of what colour soever, her neck being opposed to the Sun will diversify into a thousand colours, more various than the Iris it-self, or that Bird of juno in all her pride; as scarlet, cerulean, flame-coulour, and yielding a flash like the Carbuncle, with vermilion, ash-coulour, and many others besides, which have no name, but as you borrow them from other things. And though she be never so chaste, innocent, and loyal to her mate, yet can she not avoid his jealousy. Which you may see, and it is a pleasant contemplation to note the while, when the Cock returns to his Dovecot, how, discovering his jealousies, his little breast will swell up to the bigness of his body; then with the voice to break forth into a hoarse and angry note; by and by to walk in state, as it were, and encompass his mate about; and with the show of a wrothful Nemesis, rake the ground, with the swift trailing and strotting of his train, and that you may not doubt but he is angry indeed with the pecking of his bill, & strokes of his wings he persecutes the poor wretch, deserving it not. Yet she abides very patient to all, nor is troubled a whit at his causeless indignation, proceeding out of vehemence of love; she flies not away to shun him, and withdraw herself, but rather approaches nearer and closer to him; she returns not blow for blow again, but meekly endures and suffers all; until the diuturnity of sufferance and her meekness do vanquish and mollify the choler and fierceness of the furious thing. And so at last the Cock forgetting his suspicion, is quite tamed; & laying the enemy aside, puts on the Lover, returns to reconciliation of friendship again; and the joining of their bills together, with more ardent affection, renews the same, as the flame is increased with the sprinkling of frigid drops thereon. She is a meek creature, and hath no gall; she feeds on no living thing; she brings up others young, she makes choice of the purest grain, she builds in the rocks, she hath groans for singing notes, & sits very willingly by the water's side, that she may suddenly shun the hawke foreseen by his shadow therein; and a thousand other qualities beside.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
NOW then, as the Dove builds her nest not in trees nor on the earth, 
The Survey.  but in the holes and concavities of the Rock, not so curious as some birds be, to plaster and trim up their nests, or to seek for the softest downs to prepare their beds with, against the hatching of their young: So our Lady, the mystical Dove we treat of, built not a whit, nor placed her hart, in the base earth of terrene desires, nor in the higher thrones of princely Majesties, but even in the wounds and passions of her dearest Son. Arise, my friend, make haste, 
Can●. 20.  my Dove; I say, make haste, and come into the holes of the rock, where our Dove is said to inhabit. In the holes of the rock, I say, because in her thoughts and remembrance was she still conversant and lodged, as it were, in the wounds of Christ. Or we may say, and not unaptly to, that Christ had sundry nests, to wit, the Crib, the Cross, and his Sepulchre or monument. In these nests now of Christ, our Dove would often inhabit, because she would often visit these places with incredible ardour & devotions. Of which opinion is doubtless S. Hierom, 
S. Hier.  thoughhe say, perhaps: Perhaps, saith he, through excess of love she is said to have dwelled in the place, where her Son was buried. For one hardly would believe, how much internal love and affection is fed with looks.  
The Dove again feeds not on the flesh of other fowls & birds, as some do, but of the grains of corn, and that the select & most choice of al. Nor was our Dove, the blessed Virgin, affected or given to terrene and worldly things, but to Celestial and eternal; she fed not on the fleshpots of Egypt, nor yet of Manna, being but only the bread of Angels, but rather fed of the Bread of life, the thing represented by that Manna, she fed on the sweet thoughts of the Divine Word itself Incarnate in her womb, 
joan. 10.  and fed of that grain of corn, whereof it is said: Unless the grain of corn falling into the earth be mortified and die etc. This grain of corn refreshes and satiats; and therein may signify our Saviour Christ, according to the Psalmist: He satiats thee with the fat of corn; 
Isay. 63.  and hath redness without, in regard whereof may it signify the flesh of Christ; agreeable to that: How red is thy garment &c: and beside is white within, and expresseth the soul, 
Sap. 7.  which is fulgent and bright with the candour and splendour of purity; For indeed it is the candour of light, And therefore in the Canticles the Virgin saith: My heloved is white and red, and chosen of a thousand; White, for his blessed and divinifyed soul; 
Cant. 3.  red, for his precious flesh, embrued with is blood; and the choice of a thousand, for his sovereign and supreme Divinity. This Dove then fed of such a grain, because she was wholly and fully delighted with the Divinity and the Humanity of Christ.  
And for her groans, the ordinary music of the Lyre of her hart, they were the lamentable and sad accents, which the Passion of her dear Son had caused in her. For lo, this Dove with the rest of that desolate and mourning flight of mary's, her fellow-doves, did nothing else, but sigh and groan, in beholding the only Pearl of doves, her dearest Son, in so piteous a plight, so hampered and entangled in the fowler's nets. Like Doves that meditate, they groaned sore, as the Prophet saith, especially this Dove above the rest, the incomparable Virgin-dove, being the natural Dam and parent of the poor distressed one, most sadly pouring forth a flood of tears without measure. Whence S. Anselm saith in a certain place: 
S. Anselm.  My most merciful Lady, what fountains may I say broke forth of thy purest eyes, when thou sawest thy only innocent Son to be scourged, bound, & so cruelly entreated before thee, and the flesh of thy flesh so mangled in thy sight? what groans shall I imagine thy breast sent forth the while, when thou heardst him say: Woman, behold thy Son; and again: Behold thy mother? For she could not see her Son to be so crucified, without groans, and motherly laments for her dying Son, the joy of her hart, and hart of all her joys, so pierced with a soldier's spear, that even transfixed withal the mother's breast, a very Niobe of tears, or rather Noome of bitter groans.  
Now for the wing, which so eternizeth the Doves, and makes them most illustrious among fowls of the highest pitch, this I note, they love not much to fly alone, burr to assemble themselves in flights. The blessed Virgin, is that Woman clothed with the sun, of whom it is said in the apocalypse, that two wings were given her to fly with, in the desert; which two wings are the wings of Love and Hope, wherewith she flies into Heaven. Who will afford me wings as the Dove? But yet she would not fly alone, but draw others also to fly along with her, to wit, the Apostles, during her life, and through her example afterwards all other Saints.  
They were accustomed of old, the better to attract strange pigeons to their houses, to use this industry or slight, to anoint some one tame and domestical Dove with an ointment, which they knew most grateful unto them, and so anointed to let it fly at large; when she so flying in the air, through the fragrance of the odours about her, would draw to her a number of them; & so she, who first flew alone, would return back again in triumphing manner. The Virgin of herself alone at first was the only lover of vowed Chastity, who professed, she knew not, nor ever would know man. This Dove than the heavenly Fowler had sent forth into the air of the world, as anointed with the perfume of all graces, and especially of Chastity; but now she flies with an innumerable number of Virgins, led by her example, singing altogether with one consent that verse: We will run after the odour of thine ointments; the young virgins have loved thee, O lovely Dove.  
Lastly, for the sitting of the Dove by the water's side, hear what the holy-ghost in the Canticles saith: Thine eyes like Doves upon river-waters, 
Can. 5.  which are washed with milk, and sit by the fullest streams. S. Hierom, that great Contemplatour of Celestial Secrets upon the Canticles, speaking of this most holy Virgin, how she was assumpted to Heaven, saith: I saw one specious as a Dove ascending from the waters. She was a beautiful Dove, as it were; because she showed the form and simplicity of that Dove, which came upon Christ, coming out of the streams of waters. Now as the Dove is said to dwell upon the streams, as well to discover the shadow of the hawk, as to refresh herself against the heats: So the blessed Virgin rests & abides upon the fullness of the floods of the holy-ghost, as well to admonish her Devotees to beware the Diabolical snares, as to enjoy the plenitude of the waters of the same holy-ghost, to wit, the gifts thereof.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
THE holy-ghost, 
The Pause.  that nestles like a Dove,  
Betwixt the Father & the Son above,  
Is flown from Heaven to seek a mate below,  
A Virgin, chaste, pure Dove, as white as snow  
Feathered; a like consort; she without gall,  
Simple & mild; he Love essential.  
Thus they accord, as they in colour suit,  
And to the flower correspond's the fruit.  
The Virgin's shadowed, yet remains pure white;  
(Shadows expelled) the substance brings to light.  
But while her Son is shadowed on the Cross,  
The mourning 
* Columbam nigram pingebant Aegypty ad significandā●iduā c●stam & constantem; inquit Pierius.  Dove in blacks laments her loss.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation.  how the Dove, being a most pure creature, fears to be defiled, & abhors whatsoever is foul and sordid, as appears by that which happened in Noe's Flood. Noë sent forth a Dove after forty days, to discern whether the waters were fallen and ceased upon the face of the earth or no, who not finding whereon to rest her foot, returned into the Ark again; and the reason was, 
Gen 88  as S. Augustm thinks, that though the tops of hills appeared bare, yet they remained moist and slimy, and therefore the Dove being a nice and delicate bird, and extremely amorous of purity and cleanness, would by no means put her foot thereon. And here reflect upon the Virgin pure, in whom no spot appeared of Original Sin at all, in that great inundation & deluge thereof in Adam, but remaining in the Ark of her Innocence Immaculate, because the mother of the Immaculate Lamb.  
Consider then the singular providence of the Dove, which is a part indeed of the prudence of this creature, in that to shun the hawk, she shrouds herself in the secret holes of the Rock, and there securely reposeth in great peace. And then consider, how this Dove of Doves, this same most prudent Virgin, being higher than the rest, and more profound, had placed her nest or chamber in Christ her Rock; where being always safe and kept inviolable, the slights of the Devils and the subtleties of Heretics could do nothing against her; but what they did, was against the Rock itself, rebounding back upon the impious themselves, like the waves against the cliffs, the ships against the shelves, the rustling of the winds against the towers, the foamy froth against the beach, the edge of the sword against the Adamant, the reed against a target, drifts of snow against a helmet, fire against gold, & lastly a slender cloud against the Sun.  
Ponder lastly the great similitude and resemblance, which is between the salvation of men's lives in Noës' Ark, and that of Souls in the Church, whose foundation was laid in the Virgin-mothers' womb, our true Dove indeed, at the Annunciation of the Angel Gabriel, when that stupendious miracle of grace was wrought within her. But as then that Dove of the Ark carried only the message of salvation, the figure of that embassage here brought by Gabriel, whom when you behold so painted with a branch of Olive in his hand, as a token of peace and mercy, what see you else, but Not's Dove, bearing a bough of olive, in the feet?   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Most innocent Dove, 
The Golloquie.  Lady of meekness! O would you please to remember me for my good, most sober & demure Virgin, & amorous Mother of my dearest Spouse, Oh pray the eternal Love for me; reject me not poor wretch, most wretched Sinner, so wholly immortifyed in all my senses, who here present myself before your goodness in the demand and pursuit of man suetude of mind. Oh grant, most precious Virgin-Mother, that I perish not for ever, and be lost. O admirable Lady, Lady, I say, of heaven and earth next GOD your dearest Son, placed above all the Hierarchies of Heaven: Let me not quite perish, Queen of the heavenly Empir●; for alas, what profit will there be in my utter ruin? Alas, Alas, let me not fall, a caitiff and unworthy worm as I am, to nothing, or worse than nothing, so wholly drowned in Sin and vice.    

THE XIX. SYMBOL. THE FOUNTAIN.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Fountain is the liquid Glass or Mirror of the Naiads, 
The Impresa  where they haunt to contemplate their beauties in; or rather is the Nymph herself, who gazing on her proper beauty, through a strange Metamorphosis of self-love had lost herself in her own Glass. Hence it is, she runs the Hay, as it were, in the meadows, to seek herself in the waters which she is herself, got forth to take the air, in the fields abroad; and as it runs, it plays on the Harpsicon the while, whose jacks are the pebble stones, checking the little waves as strings, that so with purling frames the harmony it makes. The feathered Nymphs there, are much taken with it, especially the Swan, that will be tuning her Descant to that ground. All the care she takes, is but to haste to pay her rents, which she doth to the Brooks and Rivers, as Bay lives to that great Exactor, who takes them grumbling, as never satisfied. She is the breast of Nature, and Nature the Nurse that suckles all things with her milk, and is so good a Nurse and so prodigal of her sugared lickours, as where she can not else communicate herself, of her own accord will she break out into Springs: Springs so called indeed, because they leap and spring forth of the earth. For so shall you see the little lambs and kids pricked with this milk of Nature, well concoct with youthful heat, to spring, to jump, and frisk; whence doubtless the season of the Spring took first the name. For what is the blossoms, trow you, to spring and bud forth, but for Nature to break out as into Springs? The Rose springs forth, while Nature breaks a vein as it were, that springs into a Rose. The Lily springs, while Nature spill her crystal milk, that sprouts into a Lily. The Springs and Fountains therefore, are the life of Nature, if the life, as some maintain, abide in the veins, which may well be. They are the very tickle of Nature's hart, that make her sprug up herself in the season of the Spring, to court the world with, in her best array. For than she crownes herself with a garland of all flowers, puts on the mantle of her goodly meadows diapered all over, and tricks and decks up her hair, the fruitful trees, with gems of blossoms of infinite varieties, to feast and entertain the newborn world.   

THE MORALS.  PERENNIS ET INDEFICIENS. 
ALL things that are, 
The Motto.  have their certain terms; and there is a stint and period to be seen, in all things. Be they treasures of immense riches how vast soever, they may be summed with good Arithmetic, to a last farthing. The Cataracts of waters, in Noe's time, that poured down so fast, at last were exhausted quite, and gave leisure to the Earth, to swallow and digest so huge a draught. They were neither perpetual, for they lasted but a time; nor yet without measure, for it may be supposed the Springs were dried, or that the hand of GOD had put a sluice to the torrents. Elias called for rain, and it poured down so fast, as many were afraid of a second deluge; but the glut and tempest ceased in a certain time, & all was well. To leave these, and to come to Man, whose pride makes him ofttimes to pretend to a kind of eternity of felicity; Let him lift up his crest never so loftily, his pride will soon have a fall. Alexander how great soever, when he saw he could not eternize himself, & become dreadful enough otherwise, used a stratagem, which was to be drawn by Apelles in sundry manners, now mounting on his Steed, that brave Bu●ephalus, in the action of making the earth to tremble with his looks; and then to be admired in the habit and equipage of a GOD, calling himself the Son of jupiter Amon; but the truth is, his looks made not the earth to quake, but only in his picture; nor was he adored, but in his portrait, and he no more than a mortal man, whose Aurora and cursory day, had a speedy sunset.  
Nero caused a coin of gold to be stamped, where his own effigies was engraven of the one side, and of the other Fortune enchained at the foot of a Rock, with this word: Nec scopulos metuo. But he shortly found the contrary, when killing himself, he suffered shipwreck in the sea of his own blood. Otho represented himself in such pieces of gold, with his hand armed with thunder, with this: aliis non ●tor armis. But soon the spring of his life and Reign, was the winter of his death; and what death but a death which his life deserved? There is nothing sure and perpetual in this world; but all things slide away like running streams from the springhead, which leave not so much behind them, as the memory of their passage. The Spring only is it, which still remains, whose waters after they have run an endless time, shall then but seem to begin to run, as being an Abyss of waters sprung from an endless source. Look then what the Spring is of elemental liquids, the same is the Mother of GOD, an endless fountain of spiritual graces and perfections, and is truly the FONS PERENNIS ET INDEFICIENS of all Graces.   

THE ESSAY.  
TO speak of the Fountain truly, 
The Review.  as the thing deserves, one had need of a fountain of wit and brain about him, to decipher it aright. For who can draw a picture of one that can not sit, but is ever jogging up and down? For lo, the fountain-water never stands, but hath the palsy in the veins, that will not rest. It is sometimes taken for the Fabric itself; as built of stone; which if we should, the diffitie would increase. For so were we obliged to express as many forms well nigh, as there are fancies in the Brain. For some shall you see of one fashion, some of another, as every one abounds in his sense. Witness that so artificially wrought by the famous Michael Angelo de Bonaro●i in figure of a Woman washing and winding of linen clothes in her hands; in which act of hers, she strains forth the Fountain-waters. Another have I seen of an Elephant spouting the waters from his Probosces or trunk, to the pleasures of the Spectators; another of a Whale, that spouted the waters so high, as even did diselement the same into a dust or powder of waters. Another so cunningly set and contrived, as what with the waters so disposed, and the Sunny rays together, it would make a perfect Iris in the eyes of all men; and a thousand other, while Art in nothing more will vie with Nature, then with her workmanships of this kind. The Fountain therefore is properly neither the manufacture alone so wrought, nor the water of itself, as it creeps in the veins of the Earth. For so the one were a liveless Statue of Man or beast, and the other a Spring only, and no Fountain; The one would be but a dead or senseless Carcase, and the other only in the Concha, as the blood abiding in a bowl; so as to have a Fountain indeed it must be alive, and have the silver blood, as in the veins, that spouts, streams, or trickles from it: Such as Niobe herself was transformed into a Living Fountain, as it were, when she wept out her eyes; such, I say, as Magdalen was at her master's feet, or as that great Porter of Heaven and the Keeper of the keys thereof, when he so bitterly wept at the Cockcrow. I can not tell, whether there can be a braver sight, than such as these, curiously represented in marble, with the azure veins appearing in the body, and the rest of the lineaments lively set forth; and then to behold the trickling streams to fall from the eyes, either as pearls by drops, or as open Cataracts burst forth.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
BEhold we now the Incomparable Fountain itself of living waters of Grace, 
The Survey.  that flow from thence: to wit, the Signed Fountain, the most pure Virgin Mother of GOD, according to that of the Canticles: The fountain of gardens, 
Cant▪ 4.  the well of living waters which flow with violence from Libanus; and again: My sister is a signed or sealed Fountain. She is a Fountain placed by or near GOD; she is a Fountain turned into a River; She is a perpetual Fountain; and lastly a sweet and pleasant Fountain. She was a signed fountain, because she was likewise an enclosed Garden. She was a Garden, because Her understanding was full of faith, and knowledge of GOD, with infinite variety of flowers of all kinds; and closed it was, because no error or ignorance might enter thereinto. She was a Garden, because her affect was full of love to GOD and her Neighbour; and closed, because no terrene love or base desire of the flesh or world, could find access to her hart. She was a signed Fountain, because her Virginal womb was full of the water of Celestial grace; and signed, because sealed with the irrevocable Vow of perpetual and immaculate Virginity. She was a Fountain placed near to GOD, Because with thee is the Fountain of life; A Fountain, in that she refrigerateth from the heat of concupiscence; and a Fountain of grace, for that she vivifyes from the death of mortal sin; and because she is very near to GOD, she plentifully and abundantly poureth forth herself to al.  
This little Fountain increased to a huge River, and flowed into very many waters. 
Hest. 11.  For lo she was a little fountain in her humility and conversation; but then grew into an immense River, in her Annunciation and Conception of the Son of GOD; and flowed into many Waters in her glorious Assumption, when she flows so abundantly, as all participate of her fullness; as well they without (as yet in banishment) as those also in the streets of the Celestial Jerusalem; according to that of Solomon in his Proverbs: 
Prou 5.  Thy fountains are derived abroad, and thou dividest thy waters in the streets. She is a perpetual Fountain, because (as Esay saith) a Fountain of waters, whose waters never fail. 
Esay. 1. 6.  Other Fountains will soon dry up, but this never, For the love of the world is no endless or perpetual Spring, but slides away, goes, and comes, and oft comes to nought; but is a cistern rather, that will in time be exhausted, and that ere very long. 
Hier. 2.  They have left me the Fountain o● living Water, and framed to themselves broken Cesterns that leak and can hold no water. Lastly, this Fountain of Ours, is sweet and pleasant. For as Springs and Fountains of waters, arising from the Sea▪ and passing through veins, as it were, and subterranean places, become very savoury and sweet; and that by certain degrees, having first of all a kind of bitterness with them, and then a more gratful, and lastly a pleasant and delicious taste. So the blessed Virgin like a Fountain springing from the source and origin of the bitter and harsh people of the jews, was through a singular and especial prerogative preserved from the least tack of those brackish waters, whence she came; and being divinely sanctified by the holy-ghost, became a most delicious Fountain of all graces; according to that of judith: The bitter fountains are made sweet to drink. 
jud. 5.  From whence, as from a public Conduit of a City, the universal Church derives infinite streams of graces and favours. And, as in great Cities there is wont to be some Conduit or Concha, or most ample and spacious Channels erected in the open marketplace, from whence may all at their pleasure fetch waters without limit or restraint, for all their uses; besides some special pipes conveyed into some men's houses, as a singular favour: So the blessed Virgin, like a copious and endless Conduit, abundantly affords the waters of her graces to all that have their recourse to her for them; and more particularly and familiarly to those, that are her special Devotees, as being of her families and holy Sodalities.  
Let us now see then, what waters she affords; for surely her waters are full of Virtues. And first, they cool and refrigerate, and are therefore most welcome to the thirsty soul. And as Fountain-water in Summer is more cold, and hotter in Winter: so the Incomparable Virgin, in the summer of prosperity gives fresh and cool waters, to wit, a cooling and refrigerating grace, that the mind be not too much inflamed with terrene affects; but in the winter of Adversity yealds her waters hot, that is, inflaming, lest the mind with adversities being too much depressed, might cool, and at last grow utterly cold in the love and service of God. As these waters cool, so do they quicken and vivify withal; and are therefore called living or the waters of life. 
Num. 13.  Heart the clamour of this people, and open them the treasure, the fountain of living water.  
These Fountain-waters have an humective and vegetative virtue with them, to water and to make things prosper and grow up. 
C●n. 2.  A fountain ascended from the earth, watering the universal superficies. So Genesis. And for growing, Esay saith: The shower falls and snow from heaven, and returns no more; 
Esa. 55.  but inebriates the earth, powers upon it, and makes it to spring and grow up. For the earth indeed is said, first to put forth the blade of the wheat, than the green ear, and lastly it becomes a ripe and ful-grayned ear of corn. And this heavenly Fountain of ours, first makes the earth of our soul, to put forth the green herb of the fear of God, which is the beginning of a new life; then the green ear of Penance, which is bitter and sharp; lastly a full perfect fruit in the ripe ear, which is Charity; since Dilection is the fullness of the Law.  
And to conclude, 
Rom. 13.  the virtues of these waters have the power to ascend and mount up, according to that: The water which I shall give you, shall be (in her) a Fountain of water arising and springing to eternal life. And as the nature and property of the water is especially in pipes to arise the higher, 
I. 4.  the lower it falls: so the Virgin stooping to the centre of her Nothing, is advanced so high, above the Cherubins and Seraphins themselves; and so consequently the waters of grace, that flow to us from her, raise us the higher in Heaven, while by her example we stoop down and abase ourselves, and especially despise these base and terrene things.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
IT had not rained, and so the earth was dry,  
No showers of Grace were falling from the sky.  
An universal drought possessed the Land  
With dearth & famine; 
The Pause.  God's revengeful hand  
On Eve, passed to her progeny, For sin,  
Man's soul, like earth dried up had ever been,  
But that there did a crystal Spring arise,  
To drench the barren soil, and fertilise:  
For Naamans' (jordan-like) it made a flood,  
That flowed with Grace. 
* Turbata est in sermone cius.  'Twas Troubled (not with mud,  
While She's called full of grace) But sinner I  
Am troubled, 'cause I want. Fountain, supply.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, that as an Aqueduct hath length and breadth with it: 
The Contemplation.  so our glorious Virgin, the Fountain, I mentioned above, of living waters, as an Aqueduct hath so great a length, as she reaches even from heaven to the earth; according to that mellifluous Doctor: Marie is an Aqueduct, 
S. Ber.  whose top like Iacob's ladder, reaches to Heaven. And the breadth of this Aqueduct is such, as she was able to contain the Divine Fountain itself, as the same S. Bernard affirms: A Fountain is borne to us, 
Idem.  because that Celestial vein hath descended by the Aqueduct, though not affording us the whole plenty of the fountain, yet pouring out certain stillicides of grace, into our dry and arid hearts.  
Consider then, that as we can not derive the waters of the Heavens into our Conduits on earth, without some conveyance or other: so can we not expect the waters of Grace to come from thence without some Aqueduct of Grace, which is the blessed Virgin, the Incomparable Fountain thereof; for that, as S. Bernard saith, the floods of graces were wanting so long to human kind, for that as yet no Aqueduct had made intercession for it. Seek we therefore grace through the invocation of Marie, Mother of Grace; and whatsoever we offer to GOD, commend we to Marie, that grace may return back by the same channel, by which it flowed.  
Ponder lastly the manner how this Aqueduct or Fountain of ours communicates its waters; for to some she communicates in manner of a Well, to some again in manner of a Spring, and thirdly to others in manner of River-waters. The Well hath its waters hid in the bottom of the pit, and not to be drawn without some difficulty: in which manner she communicates herself to sinners only, to whom the waters of grace are hidden, but yet to be fetched and had with the labour of contrition and penance. but the water of the Spring is drawn without labour at all, and flows continually: and in this manner she communicates herself to pious Souls and her Devotees, because continually she affords them graces with much facility; and lastly, as touching the River, that flows so with great abundance, she communicates and pours forth herself to the Blessed Souls, with ineffable graces, which are not communicable to mortal wights.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Virgin Marie, 
The Colloquy.  Fountain of grace, Fountain, I say, of the Paradise of pleasure. Thou crystal Well of the living waters, which flow with impetuosity from Libanus, O signed and sealed Fountain, such as the Wiseman so points forth, that beganst to rise from the earth of a barren soil, to fructify the world with thy Merits, and to water it with thy Graces. Thou little Fountain as then, now grown to a great and ample River, who in thy birth appearing as a little Spring by humility, and then a Fountain of more note, and so increasing still with sanctity in conversation becamest atlast to be a swelling River, when so thou conceavedst in thy Womb, the source of all graces, that precious Oil CHRIST JESUS; so as now from the plenitude of this Fountain, through all places of the Church, have balsomed liquours been derived to us, Obtain, o incomparable Virgin, inexhaustible Fountain of Graces, of that dear Son of thine, that the waters of his Celestial graces may so water my soul, that through spiritual aridity it be not enforced to languish utterly. This I beseech thee, thou Fountain of living waters.    

THE XX. SYMBOL. THE MOUNT.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Mount or Mountains are of the noblest and best extraction of the earth, and therefore aptest to take fire; 
The Impresa  witness Aetna or Mongibel. They are as great Barons in England, and Grandes in Spain, for their eminency above the rest of Hills, in the upper-house, & the other as Knights & Bourgeses of the Lower; the Valleys being no more than the Commons of the Land, who choose them out to stand for the people. They are the Cedars of the earth, and Caesar's in the Senate of the highest towers, as topping them all and keeping them under. They are the Pyramids of mould, more ancient and more lasting than those of Egypt; and the true Mausoleums of the Monuments of Nature; the stately Colosses of earth, erected as Gog Magogs' among the lesser people of the Hills or Hillocks. They are as Saul's, far higher than their brethren by head and shoulders: and the rest as little David's, more fit to keep sheep in the lower plains. Had not Mount Arrarat stood so a tipt-toe as it were, the Ark had been forced to have made a longer navigation, and Nature's shop had not been opened so soon, to expose her Specieses of living things to the new world, nor yet the doors and windows thereof so soon had been unbolted within. The Mountains then, are as Atlas' shoulders; to sustain and bear up the Welkin with. If the earthly Paradise be yet on earth, it must be surely on some Mountain top, or else as hanging in the air, and so no earthly Paradise. They are the Rocks of the Air, against the which the racking clouds, like Argosies, dash and break themselves, and suffer shipwreck. They have the honour of the first salutes of the glorious Sun, in the Aurora of his first appearing; and have his last kisses, ere he go to bed. They have their intelligences with the Intelligences themselves; and were they not so pursy and unwieldy, might even dance to their musics, howsoever they may listen to them as they stand.   

THE MORALS.  IN VERTICE MONTIUM. 
THere is nothing honourable, that is not good; 
The Motto.  nothing good, that is not equitable; and nothing equitable, that is not wholly opposite to all deordinations. True honour consists in fearing GOD; and to spare neither life nor aught that is dearest, in augmentation of one's glory. It stands not upon its Ancestors, in seeking so much to borrow lustre from them, as to earn it of itself. So as if it can not arrive to their virtue, who have left it any Title by inheritance, it blushes more for its own infirmity therein, then vaunts of the blazon of its House, whose greatness makes it not haughty or imperious, but rather, as the fixed stars, the higher it is, the less it desires to appear; nor regards it so much an outward pomp, or swelling ostentation, as the solid verity of a Soul truly noble. Courtesy and sweetness can no more be severed from it, than the body from the soul, to remain true honour; nor doth it of any base facility to insinuate with, but out of a natural courtesy coming from a true esteem of its self. None more inclined to compassion towards the afflicted, or more disposed to succour them, than it; and then most, when they have least help otherwise, and less possibility to requite. It is more careful to yield true honour to the Creator, then to receive it from any one. In a word, it so behaves itself, as it holds the Body of true honour, to consist not in the blood or dignity only, but the Soul in the eminence of virtue above others. This true Nobility and honour the glorious Virgin had in high measure, who being lineally descended from the race of Kings, and, which is more, exalted to the sovereign degree of the Mother of GOD, and consequently raised above all the hills of the blessed Spirits in Heaven, yea the Cherubins and Seraphins themselves; styled herself, the handmaid of our Lord, being arrived, I say, to sit IN VERTICE MONTIUM.   

THE ESSAY.  
MOUNTAINS are one of the gallantest things in Nature, especially if we regard the Prospect they afford, to deliciat the eyes with; 
The Review.  when taking a stand upon some good advantage, you behold from thence a goodly river underneath; which in token of homage, as it were, runs kissing the foot thereof, along as it goes. But the most delicious it is, when you see on the other side, a vast plain suspended before you, and diversified with little risings, hills, and mountains, here and there, which bounding not the view too short, suffers the eyes with freedom to extend themselves into the immensity of Heaven, while the River, creeping along the meadows with Meander-winding encloses the Hil about, in form of an Island, whence many vessels of all sorts riding there at anchor, may be descried, the nearest questionless very easily discerned, & the rest farther off through interposition of banks between, not perceived, the tops of the masts only appearing, like a Grove or wood in winter without leaves; the little closes or fields thereabout, with the hedge-rowes environing the same, seeming as Garden-plots hedged in with prim; and the lanes and high ways as dressed into allies. The verdures give forth themselves delicious to behold, like a Landskap in a table, with all the greene's to be found in the neck of a mallard, here a bright, there a dark, and then a bright and a dark again, & all by reason of the levels, with the risings, and fall together, with the lights & reflections caused through the dawning of the day in the morning or twilight of the evening, the rays of the sun being an open enemy to such near prospects, offending the view with too much simplicity & sincerity of dealing. It is a great curiosity in Nature, to inquire how these Mountains first came up, so to surmount the lesser Hills and lower valleys; or whether Nature intended them first, or no. If so; how came she partial? if not, how came they to be so? and a thousand other devils they raise beside, which no ordinary Conjurer can lay. But such would I have to ask the Valleys, how they came to be so beneath the Hills or higher Mountains? which if they satisfy, I undertake, the Mountains shall as much. But the truth is, he that puts generosity in some above the rest, and made not all of the same evennes and tenor of mind: and so in other things he made a Cedar and a shrub, a Pine and a bramble, an Alexander & a Diogenes, a Caesar and an Irus, a Giant and a dwarf: so made he Mounts of Pelion and Ossa, and the vales of Mambre and josaphat. These, from the first, were so created mountains & valleys; unless perhaps, as with the Angels, all were once as mountains, till Lucifer and his Complices aspiring higher than they should, were thrown headlong, and made the vales of Hellish fiends: So such as will aspire to be so wise, to search into the secrets of God's hidden Architecture, shall be ranked in the number of the silly vales, in punishment of their daring folly to presume so much.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
BUT then to speak of the Mount of Mountains, 
The Survey.  placed in the Garden of the Empyreal Heavens, where all are Mounts, and this the Mount paramount above them all; is a work of a higher nature, the Incomparable Virgin MARIA, I mean, that admirable and mysterious Mount, so like in name and quality to that of Mo●nt-Moria, a certain hill in the City of jerusalem. For as on that Mount-Moria, Solomon first founded his Temple, the house of GOD: so in this our Montain Maria, was the heavenly and Celestial Temple of the true Solomon raised indeed, which he said within three days should be reedifyed again, in case it were ruined, to wit, the Temple itself of the humanity of JESUS CHRIST. Moria signifieth the land of vision; & what land more worthy to be seen than Marry, the Mother of GOD? Moria is said to be a high and stately land, and next to GOD: and there is nothing so high and sublime as Marie is, no not the Angels nor Archangels, nor yet the Cherubins or Seraphins themselves. Moria is interpreted shining o● illuminating: and Marie being clothed with the Sun, illumines Mortals, and truly shines, as being truly the Star of the Sea. Moria, 
Pagnin  as some Authors say, is derived of the Hebrew Mori, which signify my myrrh, and jah, which is GOD, as much to say as GOD is my myrrh. And was he not truly her myrrh indeed, when she stuck him so in her bosom, as he lay in her lap, being taken from the Cross, according to that: my beloved to me is a bundle of myrrh? and she herself no less than myrrh; if we look into her name, which is Marie, quasi amarum mare, a Sea as bitter as myrrh itself; 
Eccl. 24.  of whom is said: As a choice myrrh have I yeaded a sweetness of odour: Maria is derived also, as some will have it, from the Hebrew mereh, which is teaching, and iah, GOD; teaching; who taught indeed, when being seated as Solomon in his Throne, or rather Wisdom it-self in its Scholastical Chair, in the Womb of the Virgin-Mother, for so many months, he read to the world such a Lecture of humility, patience, charity, and all virtues particularly in his Incarnation; but especially in the Crib, and arms of his Mother, when teaching both jew and Gentil, in the Shepherds and Magis, at his Birth & Manifestation, he so taught them the gospel It is finally interpreted the Rain of GOD, where you may judge what a shower of grace by this our Marie was poured into the world, when Anna, as a dry & barren cloud, for many years before, was at last delivered of her; and she poured into the world, as a shower of rain, after a tedious famine, to fertilise and fructify the earth.  
Nor is Marie our Mount restrained to Moria only, but Sinaj also seems to represent her, no less in regard that Hil is accounted the Mount of mercy & promise, as well as she. This Sinaj is situated in the province of Madian, whereof Oreb is a part, & where our Lord appearing to Moses in a bush, and taking compassion on the affliction of his people, promised to free them, from the bondage of the Egyptians, through the power of this mighty hand, 
Exod.  as we have it in Exodus. And so was the Blessed Virgin Marie, as the Queen of mercy, promised and prefigured in the same Bush, wherein our Lord appeared to Moses; and for the rest, were the promises likewise performed in her, of the Redemption and deliverance of the Human kind, from the thraldom and slavery of the Devil, while the Son of GOD took flesh of her for our ransom and delivery. Our Lord descended on mount Sinaj etc. That mount was likewise as the Rendezvous & haunt of our Lord; for there the Angel appeared often on behalf of our Lord, & spoke familiarly to Moses; & therefore it is said of him in the Acts: 
Act 7.  He appeared to him in the desert of mount Sinaj, in the flame of a fiery bush. And so was the Blessed Virgin saluted, and as frequently visited by the Angel, and instructed no less of the Word of life. Sinai was a Mount of rain, & Dew: & so was the Blessed Virgin, 
Psal. 71  in conceiving the Son of GOD; according to that: He shall descend as rain on a 〈◊〉. Sinaj was the Mount of the Divine habitation; for so, according to josephus was the common opinion in those days. And the Blessed Virgin was truly the habitation and dwelling of GOD. 
Ps. 110.  She was the mount in whom GOD took much delight. Sinaj was the Mount of wisdom and learning; for therein was the Law delivered to the people by the hand of Moses: so likewise the Blessed Virgin-Mother brought him forth to the world, who is the Word & Wisdom of the Father; who is our Captain & Lawgiver, through whom do Kings reign, & the givers of Laws decree just things. She was a Mount distilling the oil of mercy; a Mount of peace & alliance; a Mount of pastures to feed on; a Mount, where it pleased GOD to inhabit, 
Psal. 75. 67 41.  as David said, the Mount of GOD, the fat Monut, the holy & little Mount, which Esay foretold of, which should be prepared, 
Isai. 2.  & to which all the world should resort for pleasure, and repair for sweet consolation; the Mount familiar to the Angels, in their frequent visits.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
Again is raised (while Mortals feign, and err)  
The Statue of Nabucodonozer. 
Th. P●   
Heresy on feet of Clay and Iron stands,  
Which have no Union. Lo, cut without hands  
A stone falls from a Mountain. She had a Son,  
Who (having vowed) said: How can this be done;  
I know no man. 'Twas then the work alone  
Of th' holy-ghost: Thus without hands the Stone  
Fel from the Mountain. Head, breast, arms, and all  
By striking of the feet, demolished, fall.  
O, with that Stone, this Monsters feet misled,  
May she break down, that crushed the Serpe●●●   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, that as Libanus is a Mount of indeficient waters; 
The Contemplation.  for that, there, according as we have it in the Canticles, are springs of living waters, which flow with a force and violence; & Libanus itself is a fountain and spring of floods; while on the foot thereof, two fountains arise, the one jor, the other Dan; which sliding & falling into one, do make the jordan at last, as S. Hierom saith. So our Incomparable Virgin is truly a Libanus likewise of endless & indeficient waters, whose graces and favours continually flow to Mortals; nor can those springs of hers be ever dry, to wit, her perpetual virginity, and stupendious humility; which being so united in her Annunciation; produced such a jordan of all graces in the person of her dearest Son our Saviour Christ.  
Consider then, that as Mount Libanus is a Mount of fragancie and sweet odours; and therefore it is said; Like Libanus having the odour of sweets. For there are trees that bear the incense, 
Ec. 39  and many odoriferous herbs besides, do there grow. So in our sacred Libanus, the Virgin Marie; are the delicious odours of all virtues, with the Incense of sublime prayer and contemplation; the perfumes of sanctity & holy conversation, the myrrh of mortification & memory of death, while her life was nothing else, but a continual languor of perpetual mortification, as well in denying herself the pleasures, contentments, and delights of the world, as in sighing & groaning so much after heaven, where her whole conversation was. And therefore is it said in the Canticles: Fly my beloved, resemble the goat & fawn of the deer on the Mountains of spices, as much to say, as fly from the vanities of the world, & high you to Libanus the mount of Spices, to the Blessed Virgin the Libanus of all graces.  
Ponder lastly, that as Libanus is interpreted white, for the candour of the snow, which perpetually covers the same: so is our Libanus no less white, yea a great deal more, through the candour of perpetual Virginity, which is a kind of whiteness of the flesh; & as Libanus through the abundance of the Dews, & much quantity of raynes, that fall upon it, abounds with principal herbs, fat pastures, and excellent fruits: so in our Libanus of the Blessed Virgin; do flow the dews of Divine grace, and the raynes of spiritual knowledge: and therefore abounds she so with the rich pastures of the sacred Scriptures, and Celestial understandings of high Mysteries, with plentiful herbs of the flourishing green of all virtues, & especially loaden with the gallant fruits of souls. 
Oset. 14.  Her root shall break forth, as that of Libanus; her boughs shall grow out, and her glory shall be as the Olive, and her odour as of Libanus; saith the Prophet.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Queen of Angels and Archangels, 
The Colloquy.  of Patriarches, Prophets; and Evangelists; of Apostles, Martyrs, and Confessors; of Doctors, Anchorites, and Hermits, and especial●y the Crown and glory of Virgins, Widows, and of all holy Women, in the coui●gal state. o Mountain among the lesser hills of all those Saints, that have been ever, are, or ever shall be. O excellent Mountain, O eminent Mountain. O Mount, whose air is temperate and never troubled, where no Serens of inordinate concupiscences ever fall, and where no injury of times ever works any mischief. Mountain of pleasure, delicious Paradise, the Libanus of sanctity, the Sinaj of Majesty, and terror to the reprobate, the Caluarie of compassion of thy son's passion, the Thabor of Divine mysteries, the Olivet of joy and eternal happiness: In a word, O mount of heaven & fair habitation of the Heaven of Heavens, O Virgin, Alas, make me of thy condition, draw my soul from the servitude of sin, from the affection of the world, & tyranny of the flesh; & put my feet on the Mountain of perfection, that so approaching nearer to thee, I may come to inbabit with thee, above the clouds, O grant this same, I beseech thee, for his sake, who came down from heaven to meet thee, in the clouds, accompanied with miriads of Saints, & blessed Spirits, at thy glorious Assumption.    

THE XXI. SYMBOL. THE SEA..  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Seas, are the great Diet, or Parliament held of Waters, at the first creation of the world, 
The Impresa  when GOD himself was the only Speaker of the House; where they met of compulsion rather than fair accord, while every whispering of sinister breath puts them all into combustion, when for the time, there will be no dealing with them, so implacable they are, that the stoutest are fain to vale-bonet & stoop unto them. They are great Usurers, & likely never let go any pawns they once lay hold of, which they extort full sore against their wills who leave them in their clutches. They are infinite rich with such booties, & may well compare with their neighbour Pluto or Mammon himself. They will sometimes notwithstanding be very calm, courteous, & serens: so as they will invite the houshold-Nimphes & Haltions to sing & dance to the noise of their music, & of a sudden change the key and tune so, as none but Dolphins can brook the stage, or keep measure with their boisterous time, in the unruly Revels they keep. As the Earth, have they also their mines of richest wealth, lying in the bowels of their Abysses, which enjoy no other light, than their own lustres, nor ever are like to do; such covetous misers they are of their pelf. They have likewise their dales & mountains to, but those so restless, as no beasts can graze upon them, going upon four, but such as take any benefit of those pastures, are fain to go on their breasts. They are the humid firmament without firmness, where all the stars are moving Planets. They are the cloudy or watery air, where the birds make use of fins instead of wings. Only the Element of fire hath no friendship with them, but is at deadly feud with them, & therefore goes as far from them, as possibly it can, because they never meet, but it pays well for it, with its own destruction. They scarcely acknowledge any deity above them, or homage due to any but the Moon, to whom they are very punctual & obsequious, nor miss her a moment with their service, at her beck to go & come as hawks in a line, or horses with the bit, that dare not go amiss. Most think, they are phlegmatic, because so humid, but rather I take them, to be of a melancholy complexion, with the gift of tears only, for that their waters are ever brackish & bitter as tears are. In fine, they are another world in themselues, wherein GOD hath plunged and drenched the diversities of all earthly creatures.   

THE MORALS.  AB A MARO MARE, A MARI MARIA. 
THE Egyptians for characters, 
The Motto.  had pictures; of pictures, made they books; wherein they had need to have been excellent moralists, and consequently good naturalists, to know the natures and properties of all creatures. I add withal, some part of their wits also, should have laid in their fingers ends, to shape forth with coal or chisel, so many diversities of things. Adam our first Parent, gave them the first ground thereof, when from the beginning he so called & assembled all the newborn creatures to give them names, as a Baylif of some great Lord should go about, to mark this master's sheep, with special marks, notes, or signs of whose they are. And this he did, by the pattern & example first given him by GOD in himself and his consort, the first that ever took any name; while he was called Adam, as signifying, de terra terrenus, & she Virago, à viro desumpta. The Patriarches after him still practised the same, which Adam did; assigning names very apt to all their children, as the present occasions put them in the head, or rather as divinely inspired by him, that best can skill, to single out and call each thing by its proper name. Hence joseph, as his type, was called a Saviour and joshua likewise, for the same reason. S. john the Baptist his Precursour was called Grace, which john imports, to signify the coming and approach of Grace indeed, in the Messias at hand. Yea JESUS, which signify Saviour, came at last with that name assigned him from all eternity, and lastly given him by the Paranymph Angel, with the surname of Emanuel, as much to say, as Deus nobiscum. And so the Incomparable Virgin, was Divinely sorted with the name of MARRY, that fitted her so right. For she was indeed a Sea of bitterness, through the seavenfold sword of sorrow, that pierced her hart; and therefore rightly. AB A MARO MARE, A MARI MARIA.   

THE ESSAY.  
THE richest pieces of Eloquence, 
The Review.  and Poetry are borrowed of the Sea; be it for descriptions of some notable shipwreck, or to express the blustering winds, which furrow the face of that liquid Element, raising up billows, that dash and wash as it were the very face of the Heavens, and seem to plunge the Stars in the surges of the wrathful Nemesis or Thetys' rather; or lastly in expressing some Naumachias, or sea-fights, or that of the Remora, that Caesar of Caesar's in captiving so, in a floating Castle, Caligula the Roman Monarch, to the stupour and amazement of the world. These are the uses Poets make thereof, but Philosophers go further yet, and tell us stranger things of this stupendious work of Nature, of the Flux and Reflux thereof, and fair correspondences it hath with the Moon. The fabulous Antiquity hath reckoned ever the Sirens those chanting Nymphs, & great enchantresses, to be the Hostesses of the Sea; and even the sagest of them in their follies, take it for a grace to their Goddess Venus, to fetch her extraction from the impure flames of the waves. This we know by experience, the foam and froth of the Sea, being dried with the rays of the Sun, convert to sponges, & they again into pomice-stones, as light as Venus herself; it is ordinarily veiled with vapours, curtened over with clouds, enwrapped with fogs, and sometimes buried in Cimmerian darkness; then of a sudden it changes the countenance, and becomes a cerulean Sea, as various in hue, with as many colours, as the changeable neck of a Dove gives forth with the reflection of the Sun; when the former furrows all of wrath in the face of this stern Ocean will turn to smiles and dalliances with his amorous Tethis; the Haltion, the joy of Mariners will straight appear upon the decks of ships to glad the passengers, & the Dolphins dance before them with a pleasant glee; the watery pavements seem as swept the while, to invite them likewise to dance lavaltoes with them; and the gentle Eurus and Zephyrus in disposition to tune their pipes for the purpose. And for Cosmographers (whom we must believe, unless with measuring the world ourselves, we will disprove them) they tell us, the Ocean is that universal Choas of waters, which enuirous the land of all sides: for look what coasts soever they sail unto, they always find the Seas to waft them thither; which on the east is called the Indian Sea: on the West the Atlantic: on the North and the Regions opposite, the Pontic and the frozen Sea: and on the South, the Red or Ethiopian; beyond all which, many striving to reach to the utmost shores, have made vast navigations, and have sooner found their victuals to fail them, then ample spaces of immense waters undiscovered.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
BEhold here a singular Symbol of cur Incomparable Virgin, 
The Survey.  a vast and immense Sea of Charity; for so is she pleased to go shadowed at this time, nor may it seem to any strange, she should do so, or we presume so to style her, since lo the Blessed Cyprian terms her, not a Microcosm only, as we are all, but even an ample, complete, and universal World within herself, adorned with the Species of all creatures, I read, saith he, and understand, that Marie is a certain intelligible and admirable world, whose land is the solidity of humility; whose Sea, the latitude of Charity; whose heaven, the height of Contemplation; whose sun, the splendour of Understanding; whose moon, the glory of Purity; whos's Lucifer, the brightness of Sanctity; whose cluster of seven stars, the sevenfold Grace; and whose other stars are the beautiful ornaments of the rest of her admirable Virtues.  
The Histories report, that Helena among the Grecian Beauties carried the prize away; & that Zeuxis, a most exquisite painter, in the Age immediately following, would needs draw her portrait, though he had never seen her while she lived: & therefore gathered he together all the fairest damsels in those parts, and whatsoever he found rare and excellent in any, he would exactly put into his piece, not leaving, till he had finished a most admirable piece of work, delineated from them, which even ravished the eyes and hearts of al. So may we say of our blessed Lady, Mother of the eternal King, that she was an abstract of all the perfections possible, dispersed not only in that sex, or the human kind, but even likewise in the Angelical nature itself; and therefore well might be called a Sea of all perfections; since both her name, in the Hebrew, sounds as much as Sea; and as the Sea is nothing else, but a certain congregation together of all waters, 
Gen. 1.  so is she no less an assembly and congregation of all graces and perfections to be found elsewhere.  
The Sea indeed hath three properties; It is the Spring and origin of all fountains; it is always full; and is bitter and brackish in taste. Our Lady likewise is the spring and origin of all graces, from whose virginal womb did JESUS flow, the fountain of this Fountain, the increated Grace, from the plenitude of whose grace, we all receive grace, in what measure soever we become capable of. And as from the sea do flow great quantities of waters which it receives again, not being kept; so do graces flow from the Sea of Marie in great plenty; yet with flow and ebbings, through our ingratitude, and not making use thereof. But if after our neglect of her favours we return, as we ought, to beg them again, though we receive no effectual benefits by her first offers which we refused, yet doth she daily offer them again; with this difference from those flow of the liquid seas, that they go and come to and fro of course, and at certain times with stints; but she is ready every moment to communicate her favours without limits, so we will but open the channels of our hearts to let them in.  
As all Wells, Springs, and Fountains derive from the Sea, the Sea virtually contains the nature and qualities of all Well-springs, current fountains, and rivers. By which waters are aptly understood the three degrees of graces, which through our Lady flow into our hearts; to wit, the Incipient or prevenient grace, in the first beginnings of our conversions; the Proficient, by which we proceed; to virtuous actions through grace received; & the Perfect grace, which is the full consummation thereof, and is indeed a constant perseverance to the end in all virtues. This Incipient or commencing grace, is signified by the Well or spring of living waters; because these springs have their waters secret & hidden under ground; they suddenly arise, and no man knows from whence, & so prevenient grace, is by us not merited at all, but springs, and is poured into us, through a secret and hidden inspiration of GOD, no man can tell how, or whence, but often comes through the intercession of the Incomparable Mother of mercy, and the Sea of graces, being called the living Waters, for that by this grace, are sinners dead in sins, as vivifyed to life. The Fountain-water, is understood to be grace Proficient; whereof is said: the Fountain of the Gardens; which gardens of GOD, are the good Proficients in grace, & virtues; in whom are the herbs & plants of all virtues, in a flourishing state; which yet could not spring at all, nor grow a whit, much less seem to prosper & flourish, unless by this fountain they were watered with grace, being a Fountain indeed ascending from the earth, 
Gen. 2.  which waters the universal face thereof. By the River-water, which flows with violence, is perfect grace to be understood, which is said to flow with violence, because such as are replenished therewith, are very earnest and solicitous in the works of virtue, and proceed with fervour therein. 
Esech. 1  Look where the force of the spirit leads them, thither will they go with a violence and impetuosity as it were.  
The Sea is always full, and never wastes; and so our Lady was announced by the Angel, to be full of grace, as truly she was a vast and immense Sea of all graces. Of whom the mellifluous S. Bernard saith upon those words of, 
●ern.  Aue gratia plena: In the mouth truly was she full of affability; in her womb, with the grace of the Deity; in her hart, with the grace of charity; in her hand or work, with the grace of mercy and liberality. So likewise are the waters of the Sea exceeding bitter; and our Virgin Marie was amarum mare, that is a bitter Sea, for diverse respects, First for sorrow, for the loss of her Son in the Temple: Behold thy Father and I have sought thee with sorrow. Then was she bitter, merely of compassion, in beholding the Spouses in the Nuptials to be abashed & confounded for want of wine; she had compassion of the jewish nation, while she saw them to be reprobate and forsaken of GOD; She pitied the Apostles in seeing them dispersed in the passion of her Son; But especially was she bitterly sorry at the passion of her Son, when the sword of sorrow transfixed her hart; and lastly was she bitter for her tedious pilgrimage here so long: 
Psal.  and therefore would she say: Alas, how my pilgrimage is prolonged!   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
NO sooner was the infant-world disclosed, 
The Pause.   
But that God's Spirit on the Sea reposed:  
Borne on the waters did impart a heat  
By influence divine: a fertile seat  
He made that vast and barren Ocean's womb  
'twas fruitful when the holy-ghost was come.  
The sacred Virgin was a Sea like this,  
But darkness on the face of the Abyss,  
Was never on her Soul, that shined bright  
From her first being; for GOD said: Let light  
Be made: the Word was in this Sea comprised,  
When th' holy-ghost the waters fertilized.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, that when the world was first created, & that the waters were divided, as it were, 
The Contemplation.  by the Firmament, while part was put above the Firmament and part beneath, the waters beneath on the earth, were called by the name of Maria, or Seas; and the Spirit of GOD, as we have it in Genesis, did incubare super aquas cover, as we say, or overshadow the waters: Which was a work of the first Creation. So in the work of our Redemption, where the blessed Virgin, Maria by name, which signify the Seas also, it pleased the Eternal Word, leaving the delicious bosom of the heavenly Father to descend into this Sea, of human miseries to take them upon him; and the holy-ghost likewise to overshadow her withal.  
Consider then in the Temple of Solomon, that as besides other riches and ornaments there, as the Propitiatory above; the Cherubins and Seraphins of each side thereof, the golden Candlestick in the midst, the Altars of Perfumes and of Propitiation, here and there, with the lamps, the Veil, the Ark, and the like in their places, was planted a great vessel of Brass, full of water, at the entrance of the said Temple, where the Priests were to cleanse themselves, before they entered to Sacrifice; and this Vessel was called, Mare aeneum, or the brazen Sea. So ought the Priests in our Churches before they enter or approach unto the dreadful Sacrifice of all Sacrifices, the Sacrifice of the Mass, to recurre to this Mare aeneum, our Blessed Lady, to procure them a purity of soul, to assist thereat, or approach thereunto.  
Ponder lastly, that as GOD, the sovereign Lord of all things, communicates his offices and charges to men according to his most holy and Divine dispensation very suitable and agreeable to every one: as to Moses the office of a Lawgiver to his people of Israel; to Aaron the office of high Priest; to joshua, of Captain & Leader of them into the land of promise; and consequently gave them talents accordingly to discharge the same very punctually in all things. So is it likely, that in choosing his Mother, he used the selfsame tenor in his fair disposition thereof, to wit, in appointing her so to be the Star of the Sea, he ordained her no doubt to be the Lady of the Sea, as her name imports. Now then as in the Seas, he hath drenched and plunged, as it were, an other world, since there is no living creature but hath its like in the Sea also implicitively, he hath likewise appointed her to be the Lady and Mistress of all the world. For how should she save from shipwreck, if were not Lady & Mistress of the waves and winds? And how should she be Lady of the Seas alone, if she were not the Lady likewise of the land? Since she who is styled the Lady of the Seas, is the true and natural Mother of him, who is Lord both of Sea and land, and all the world.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Lady of the Ocean, 
The Colloquy.  Star of the Sea, Sea of graces, Fountain; of life, Spring of living waters, that flow from the Libanus of the candour of glory! Thou great Abyss of limpid waters, whose bottom, none can reach unto; whence nothing ariseth, but the purest exhalations of Paradise; light cloud, whence nothing falls but dews and showers of graces. O immense Ocean of Charity, which bearest up all things, and where easily nothing sinks; bitter, but in the dolours and passions of thy Son; sweet to the creatures, that live of thee, or depend upon thee. O grant, I beseech thee, that wholly relying on thee, I perish not, and by neglecting thee and thy service, I incur not thy disgrace, nor so running on the rocks of thy displeasure, I split not on them, nor suffer shipwreck of my soul.    

THE XXI. SYMBOL. THE SHIP.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Ship is the artificial Dolphin of the Seas, 
The Impresa  that much addicted to music, is never set on a merrier pin, then when the winds whissel to her dancing. It is a floating Castle, that hath the gates open indeed, but trusts to her Battlements, which she hath well planted with Canons and Sacres, wherein she more confides, than many do in Sacred Canons; her whole salvation depending upon them. It is a little Commonwealth, whose whole Reason of State consists in jealousies, & spies, which she sends up to her turret-tops, to discover, if the coasts be clear, still standing on her guard, against the neighbour waves, that seek but to swallow her up. And all her care is, to walk upright amidst her enemies, least unawares they arrest her, and cite her to appear at Pluto's Court, for every error or default of the least ship-boy. There is no Bride requires so much time to dress her on her wedding-day, as she to be rigged, whensoever she goes to sea. If they have their fillets to bred and wreath their hairs with, she hath her tackle to trim her up; whose ropes are as many & as intricate as they; if they have their veils to spread upon them, she hath her sails, to hoist up to go her ways. It is the Lion of the seas, that fears no Monsters, but is as dreadful herself, as any Monster, having as many mouths as Gun-holes, & in every mouth a Serpent tongue, that spits & vomits fire, & which even spits her teeth too, in the face of her enemies, which often sinks them under water. It is one of the prettiest things in the world, to see her under sail, how like a Turkiecock she struts it out, as braving even the Elements themselves, both above and beneath her, whereof the one she ploughs with her slicing share, and braves the other with her daring look. She is an excellent swimmer, but no good diver at all; which she never doth, but sore against her will, and that with so i'll success, as likely she is never seen more. The first that ever was seen to our Antipodes, was thought by them to have had indeed a living soul with her; else would the simple people say, how could so great a bulk, so easily wind & turn it sell every foot; & this, because they knew but the Oar only, and not the Rudder. What would they have said then, had they known the effects of her Card and Compass? doubtless she had a reasonable soul. She likely never goes without her Pages with her, to wit, her Longboat and her Cockboat, whereof she makes such use now & then, as without them, she might starve for aught I know. She is very civil, if a Marchant-man; but when she is a Man of war, than Merchants beware, and look to yourselves.   

THE MORALS.  DE LONG PORTANS PANEM. 
IN the Temple of Solomon, no gold would serve his greatcuriositie, 
The Mott●.  but that of Ophir. Which the Southern Queme of Saba knowing well perhaps, thought no doubt her presents would be gratful to him, coming so from parts remote. Who is he that is not taken much with very toys that come from China, which carry I know nor how in themselves, (at least in our opinion) a kind of lustre with them, greater far than otherwise they would. The presents which the Magis brought unto the Crib, coming from the East were deemed by them sit presents for a King, yea for a GOD. And how were joshua & Caleb the Spies & Intelligencers of the people of Israel extolled & magnifyed at their return with those rare & admirable booties fetched from Canaan? And yet the gold of Ophir was but gold, a yellow earth; the presents made by Saba, such as that Country afforded; & those Indian toys, but toys indeed. Yea the gifts the Magis brought, had greater lustre with them from the giver's hearts, then from themselues; & more respected for the place to which, them whence they came. And for those foreign fruits, they came indeed from the land of promise, from Palestin, which was but the figure only of the Heavenly country. But lo, our Incomparable Virgin like a Ship, most richly freighted, hath brought us Bread from far. What bread; but the true & living bread? How far? As far as Heaven. But how bread? Bread whose corn was haruested in the Mighty man's rich Boozfield, framed by the hand of the Master Baker himself of a most pure meal or flower, to wit, of the immaculate Blood of the holy Virgin herself, baked in the Oven of an ardent Love, which She hath brought into the world. And therefore is truly said: DE LONG PO●TANS PANEM.   

THE ESSAY.  
I Can not tell, whether in the world beside, be a more stately fight to behold, than an English Ship under sail, riding in the Ocean, & cutting the watery plains with her sharp keel, 
The Review.  in case she have a gallant gentle gale in the poop; for than they feast it, and make good cheer, who are the living souls abiding in this bulk of human art, compiled together in despite of Nature, to frame a living creature more than she intended, that neither should be fish nor fowl, yet live in the air and water. But if the Seas prove rough, & all the marine Monsters 'vise up against her, conspiring with the blustering Spirits of the air; to sink her quite, it is a sport to see, how she rides & prances on his crooked back, sporting herself the while, and making a mere scoff at all their menaces▪ There is an infinite number of several sorts of these artificial creatures in the world, each country almost having their kinds. There are Ships, Pinnaces, Hoys, Barks, Ketches, Galleys, Galeons', Galleasses, Frigates, Brigandines, Carackes', Argosies, for the Seas; to say nothing of Lighters, Barges, Tiltboats, Lighthorsmen, Oars, Canoas', & Gundeloes, for the Rivers. The Ships do fly and swim together, with the help of ●ayles only; the Galleys and their like, as Swans do sometimes fly, and sometimes paddle with the oar. They have main masts, cross sails, top & top gallamns, they have stern, poop, rudden, anchor, cable, decks, tackle, guns, andigun-holes, where they have Canon Demy-canon, Saker, Culvering; not to speak of the small shot, as muskets, harkebuses, & firelocks, and a thousand more. And so much for the senseless body of this bulk in it-self. But then to speak of the soul, or policy, and economy of this admirable artificial creature, or moving world, it is a business no less, to set them down. For as for the Officers which are simply necessary either in the Admiral or Vice-admiral of a Fleet or Royal Armado at the seas, there is a General, a Lieutenant General, a Captain, a Pilot, and the Pilot's mate; a Master, and the master's mate; a Merchant, & a Marchant's mate; the Master of the Shipboys, a Secretary, a Chirurgeon; a Boatswain, a Purser, Dispenser's, Cooks, Cannonier, & his mate, with undergunners, ship-boy's and mariners without number. The Captain commands absolutely in all things; the chief merchant hath power over the merchandise and commerce only. They double so the principal Officers, that one may supply the others want. The Secretary sets down the merchandise the Ship is freighted with, & takes account of goods unladed. The Pilot hath no other command, but in what concerns the navigation. The Master hath command over all the Mariners and sailors of the Ship; & of all the provisions and victuals; he places & removes the Officers at his pleasure. The Masters of the boys are the ablest of all the mariners, and have the care of the cordages, sails, and tackle, & the like, and command the young mariners, and do only give correction to the Shipboys.   

THE DISCOURSE.  
But now come we to our mystical Ship, whose ways in the vast seas the Oraculous Solomon admired so much. 
The Survey.  This had for Architect and Shipwright no less than the Blessed Trinity it-self, wherein the Divine people bestowed their chiefest Architecture. For the Heavenly Father employed his Omnipotency therein as far as the subject was capable of, the eternal Word made use of his wisdom, in preserving so entire the seal of integrity, & the holy-ghost showed his Love, by infusing such a plenitude of grace into her. The matter she was framed of, tells us she was of herself, of wood doubtless most sacred & mysterious. As the Cedar am I exalted in Libanus, and as the Cypress in mount Zion; 
Eccl. 24.  as the beautiful; Olive in the fields; & am exalted as the Planetree near the waters in the streets. This Ship than was made of the Cedar of virginity, in that the Cedar is odoriferous and incorruptible; & therefore signify her virginity, which made her grateful and odoriferous to GOD, & kept her flesh immaculate & incorrupted. It was made of Cypress, which is a wood so strong & solid, as shrincks & yealds not with any burden, being qualities most apt for shipping: nor would the charity of the blessed Virgin permit her ever, to shrink under the weight of tribulations. 
Cant. 8.  For Love is strong as death. She was made of the Olive of piety, which always flourisheth, & looks green, in that her piety never failed any, either in the Spring of their youth, in the Autumn of their age, in the Winter of tribulation, or in the heat of inordidinate concupiscences. She was further made of the Planetree of humility; for the Plane is a most spacious & ampletree; & humility made the Virgin most ample & illustrious; because thereby she received him into her womb, whom the Heaven of heavens was not able to contain, since S. Bernard saith: She pleased with her virginity, but conceived through Humility.  
Her stern, is her wisdom & discretion; her Oars most sacred and holy affects; the Mast, high & sublime contemplation; the Galleries, pure & chaste conversation; the ropes & tackle, the cords of love, unity and concord; the Anchor, firm hope & confidence in GOD; the decks & hatches, external & holy example & edification; the sails, cleanness & purity of body, joined with the blush of shamefastness, The Pilot or Master of the ship, the holy-ghost, which steered, guided, & directed her in the whole navigation of her sacred life. For if they be led by the holy-ghost, who are the sons & children of GOD, how much rather shall she be governed by it, who is acknowledged to be not only the Daughter but likewise the natural Mother of GOD!  
The form & figure of a Ship we know to be open above, close beneath, straight in the beginning, narrow in the end, broad in the midst, & very deep. And this ship of ours the Incomparable Virgin, according to the superior part of the Soul, was open to receive Celestial gifts, but as for the inferior, wholly shut up from terrene affections; & moreover so strict in the beginning of her Conception, as Original sin could find no place to stain her in; She was narrow in the end of the Passion, while for the death of her Son she was put to diverse straits; in the midst she was most, capacious or broad, because, as we said, Whom the heavens could not hold, she held & contained in the lap of her womb; Lastly she was deep through humility, when being raised to the top of the highest dignity of being the Mother of GOD, she calls herself his lowly handmaid saying: Behold the handmaid of our Lord. But for the M●st indeed, 
Luc. 1.  and tree of this Ship, it was CHRIST Our Lord, 
Luc. 23.  the very same, who called himself green wood, saying: If this be done in green Wood, what shall become of the dry? Erected also, 
Heb. 7.  as S. Paul saith: Being made higher than the heavens; raised in, and born of the Virgin Ship. Of which tree or mast, 
Ex. 27.  we have this in Exodus: They took out a Cedar from Libanus to make be no other than Christ erected in this Ship of our Virgin here.  
The Ships are made for burden; and for as much as Nations oftentimes stand in need of each other, they serve for transportation of commodities to and fro, and especially corn from the fruitful to barren countries, with the abundance of the one to supply the necessities of the other. And therefore the blessed Virgin, as we have in the Proverbs, was made as a Merchant's ship, 
Pro 31.  bringing her bread from far & remote parts. For even from the fertile and most fruitful soil of the Celestial Paradise, brought she indeed that supersubstantial bread, into the barren coasts of this world; 
Lue. 6.  which bread says of itself: I am the living bread, who descend from heaven, wherewith the faithful are fed and nourished. Whence appears, how far off this mysterious ship brought the Celestial Bread unto us, being no less than from heaven to the earth, an immense distance; showing yet a greater distance of natures, in that this Bread consists of the Divine and human nature, which are infinitely distant one from the other, together with the distance of merits; because no merits had ever deserved, that for our sakes GOD should become Man; Which bread it seemed she likewise made herself, so signified by that Woman in the gospel, who mingled together the three handfuls of meal, as here are united the soul, the body, and the Divinity itself. O glorious Baker of so heavenline bread! O Divine bread so mysteriously made! And most rich and precious Ship, that conveyed the same to us from parts so remote!  
Lastly, as the Ship useth the Winds only to sail with, & the Galley passes not to & fro without the help of oars: So likewise between the blessed Virgin, and the rest of Saints, this difference is; that they, as Galleys, perform the navigation of this life, with the strength of the oars, as it were, against the wind and tide of carnal difficulties, and travel with infinite encounters of worldly assaults, unto their heavenly Country. But the blessed Virgin with the gentle gale of the holy-ghost, and the most sweet push thereof, was conveyed thither. And as the Ship is driven with twelve sorts of several winds; the blessed Virgin like a prosperous Ship, with the twelve fruits of the holy-ghost, which S. Paul reckons up, as with so many favourable winds, without rebellion or impugnation of sin, or any Remora, to stop her course, was sweetly wafted to the haven of the Celestial Country.   

THE EMBLEM.  
  

THE POESY.  
A jewish Rabbi says, the Angels fed  
On Manna; But an other, 
The Pause.  better read,  
Affirms 'twas Light condensed (& so made meat.  
For men, (which shined before God's glorious seat,  
As food of Angels. True; for one of three,  
The Second Person of the Trinity  
Descends, & says, He is the living bread,  
He was the light whereon the Angels fed:  
Which, when the holy-ghost over cast his shade  
Was first condendsed, when Flesh the Word was made  
In Mary's womb, wherewith our Souls are fed.  
She is the Ship, that brought from far her bread.   

THE THEORIES.  
COntemplate first, 
The Contemplation. Reg 3.  that as Ships of Solomon, as we read of in the book of Kings, brought most precious gold from Ophir, to adorn the Temple he had built to the Majesty of GOD; So our mystical Ship, brought forth our Lord, the finest gold; not from Ophir truly, but from the most precious Mines of Heaven; with whose merits, as the daughters of Jerusalem, decked their heads in memory of Salomon's yellow hair and Crown: So the Catholic Church is most gloriously enriched, honoured, and delighted, by our second Salomon's glorious merits, through whose value and inestimable price, great sums of debts are defrayed; with whose admirable virtue, as with a most present antidote, are the sick and infirm cured, and the hearts of the faithful comforted; & finally through his marvelous lustre and bright splendour, the Temple of the Church incredibly shineth.  
Consider then, that whereas other Ships are subject to infinite dangers in the Seas, being tossed with tempests and oftentimes cast away and swallowed up in the waves, or dashed against the Rocks; for Ecclesiasticus saith: 
Ec. 43.  Who travail on the seas, do recount their perils: either tyrannised by the winds, or falling into the hands of Pirates or running on the Sirtes or Scylla, and falling sometimes into the gulf of Charybdis, & lastly alured through the Sirens songs, to their own destruction: Yet this Ship of our Lady here, while of the one side, the storms of Original sin had no power upon her, so as she felt not the least internal rebellion of the body or mind, against the rectitude of Reason; and of the other was invincibly through the Divine assistance preserved against the assaults of the ghostly Enemy: So as neither the Syrteses or Scylla of riches, nor the Charybdis of worldly honour, nor the Pirates of Concupiscence, nor the Sirens of eternal delights, could stop or hinder her, in the fair navigation, she made unto the heavenly Country.  
Ponder lastly, that as heretofore in the universal Deluge & flood of Noë, in that general inundation of the wrath & fury of GOD, was no man saved or any living creature beside, except such only, as fled to the ark of Noë, built in effect as a goodly & stately Ship: So no sinner escapes the indignation of GOD, but such as hie themselues & fly unto the Virgin-Mother for refuge, according to that of S. Bernard. If thou darestnot approach to the Majesty of GOD, lest thou melt as wax before the fire; go to the Mother of Mercy, & show her thy wounds, & she for thee will show her breast & paps, & the Son to the Father his side & wounds. The Father will not deny the Son requesting; the Son will not, deny the Mother craving; the Mother will not deny the sinner weeping. My children, why fear you to go to Marie? she is not austere, she is not bitter, but milk & honey is under her tongue. This is the Ladder and honey is under her tongue. This is the Ladder of sinners, this my great confidence, this the whole reason of my hope. And what marvel? For can the Son repel the Mother? or be repelled of the Mother? Neither one, nor other. Let not therefore humane frailty fear to approach unto her; For she is wholly sweet, and sweetness itself.   

THE APOSTROPHE.  
O Thou ●al and goodly Arck, 
The Colloquy.  thou valiant Woman, valiant by excellence, more fair than Rachel, more gracious than Hester, more pleasing than Sara, more gentle and generous than judith, more sweet and chaste than Abiseig the Sunamite, more officious and prudent than Abigail, more magnanimous than Deborah, more illumined than Marie the Sister of Moses. Thou who hast found grace before the eyes of GOD, work with thy prayers most dear Lady, O my most noble Princess, that I may always find grace before thy Son. Thou who through thy Son hast broken the head of the Serpent; crush likewise through thy holy prayers his head under thy Servant's feet. Thou Ship of the great GOD, who from those counries so far remote haste brought to us the bread of Paradise, true GOD in flesh Grant, I beseech thee, I may be fed with the bread of grace, of life, and wisdom; and that receiving the sacred bread of Angels, which is the precious Body of sweet JESUS thy Son, I may even suck in the fountain itself, the most sweet pleasures, and the most pleasing sweetnesses of the Divinity, and be wholly inebriated with the torrent of Divine consolations.    

THE CONCLUSION TO HIS PROPER GENIUS.  
NOW here, my Genius, shalt thou dismiss thy Reader, with his Ship full fraught with the praises of the sacred Parthenes; and shutting up thyself in this Parthenian Paradise, walk in it up and down by thyself alone, without eye or arbiter, to witness the secret aspirations of thy hart; while contemplating with thyself, this great rich Magazine of the treasures of Nature, enclosed in this spacious and ample GARDEN of our SACRED PARTHENES, thou enter into thyself a while, gathering the fruits and flowers, at least of good desires, from the objects themselves. Not be a whit dismayed, though they put thee to the blush, to be taught thy duty so, from irrational and insensible things; but yield and submit thy hart, to learn of each creature, how to serve the common Creator of us al. And as thou walkest up and down, taking a view of those curious knots of ever-flourishing and green herbs, say this unto thyself: When shall I order and compose my greener and inordinate affections in so fair and goodly a decorum, and so sweet proportion? Walking in the Allies, say: Lord, conduct me by the straight and ready way; and show me thy kingdom. Noting the neatness of those walks, how trim and smooth they are, say: When shall it be, I be so curious, to purge and take away the impurities from my hart? The great diversity of flowers, will present to thee, the great multiplicity and well-nigh infinity of thy thoughts, as various as numerous, & all as transitory as they. If thou seest a swarm of Emonts at thy feet, charged and loaden all with grains of corn, and carrying them with toil, unto their little Grayneries, one groaning with his load, another newly discharged thereof, most lightly and nimbly running for another, say unto thyself: Oh slothful wretch, look on these people here, how they labour to maintain that paltry little carcase of theirs, of small continuance; and thou to maintain thy soul, in good estate, so created for Eternity, art so little laborious, and industrious. When thou beholdest the trees, full loaden with their fruits, so fain to be shored up beneath; remember the menace of fire, the Saviour made against the barren tree. When thou seest the plants, to be watered so, against the scor ch of the Sun, think and say inwardly in thyself: When shall, we with our tears appease the avenging Wrath of the Divine justice? The fair and beautiful Pansyes, but without all scent or odour, will tell thee, of the unprofitable agitations of thy soul; the Time, the bitterness of displeasures; the Poppy, that lulles the soul a-sleep, will admonish thee of the sweet ecstasies and ravishments of heavenly Contemplation, thou neglectest so much; the Rhubarb, or herb called Patience, will put thee in mind of that Virtue, which gives it the name; the Balm, of a good and fair reputation. Nor stay thou here, but run to resalute the proper and peculiar Family likewise the genuine Symbols of the Sacred Parthenes, so mentioned above; and note the documents they will yield thee, for thine own behoof; and then take thy leave of al. The private Garden will teach thee to keep thy virtues close, if thou hast any; and not very easily to lose their odour, through a voluntary publishing the same to others. Saluting the Rose, environed with thorns, think, there is no contentment to be found, without displeasures. Beholding the Lily among briars, imagine Chastity is so conserved amid austerities. The Violet will figure thee a low and humble esteem of thyself; which yet is a fragrant and delicious flower. The Heliotropion, which hath always its look to the Sun-wards, and follows it by day, and closes up again with the night, will put thee in conceit of the true Sun of justice indeed thou oughtest to follow, and should be the whole object of thy soul. The Dew, that falls from Heaven, will remember thee of the heavenly graces, that were shed and distilled from Heaven, by the coming of the holy-ghost in form of fiery tongues. The busy and industrious Bee, which bounds and rebounds so aloft in the air as she flies, will call to thy mind, those words of thy great Master: Work, and negotiate while tune lasts. The Heavens, will attract thy thoughts, to heavenly things; the Rainbow, move thee to pardon injuries, and immediately to reconcile thee, to thine enemies. The Moon will tax thee of inconstancy, like to hers; the Star, raise up thy thoughts to a virtuous emulation, to become a Star indeed, in the heavenly Hierarchy, as it is so fixed in the celestial Firmament. The Olive will warn thee, to be always green in thy good purposes, and fruitful in good works. The Nightingale, will let thee hear a taste or relish, as it were, of the heavenly Quires, and sacred Alleluya's, sung by the Angels in Heaven. The Palm, will stir thee to martyrdom; at least, to fortitude in difficult achievements. The House, will call the heavenly mansions and Tabernacles into thy thoughts, which are permanent for ever. The Hen, will cause thee to fly, to the heavenly protection. The Pearl, will invite thee to sell all thou hast, to purchase that of the Heavenly Kingdom. The Dove, will retire thee, and draw thee into solitude. The Fountain, will allure thee, to drink of the waters, which the Saviour mentioned, that spring to eternal life. The Mount, will call thee to a higher degree of perfection; the Sea, represent to thee an Ocean of grace, to launch forth thy Soul, as a webrigd Ship, into that Main, to arrive at last into the Haven of Eternal Happiness; and that especially through the steering of our Sacred Parthenes,  
Cui Laus & gloria in secula, Amen.   

THE EPILOGUE TO THE PARTHENIANS  
THus, Gentle Parthenians, you have viewed, reflected, reviewed, surveyed, paused on, and contemplated the Mysterious and delicious GARDEN of our Sacred PARTHENES; and after all implored and importuned your sovereign Ladie-Mistris, and mine, under so many apt and rich Symbols. So graciously she hath daigned, to condescend, for our pleasure and devotion, as it were, to deliciate with us in these irrational Species of things, made all but to express (you would think) her praises, and all the peculiar Devotees of hers, our dear Companions, in her service. Where you must note, that these are but they only, which wait and attend upon her, in her GARDEN; and that she hath infinite other Clients and Devotees beside, in created things, as forward all, to offer up themselves, in her service; I mean, in this Symbolical Theology, to give forth Eulogies, Encomiums, and Panegyrics, to her sacred praise. For testimony whereof, you might observe, the GARDEN being shut up, two noble creatures likewise, though too late, to be admitted with the rest, to come in with their devices and Emblems, to express no less in her honour, than the rest had done. But the GARDEN, as I said, was shut already, nor would our leisure afford us more, then to receive their Escutcheons only, & to hang them thus on the Postern, as you see,  

THE PHOENIX.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE MORALS.  NEC SIMILIS VISA, NEC SECUNDA. 
ONE City holds not two Lisander's, 
The Motto.  the ancient Proverb saith; nor the Heaven's two Suns, say I; which never appear in show only without a Prodigy. Hercules had thought, he had set a spell to the world, when he set up his Pillar so in the then utmost Spanish Gades, and called it his Non plus ultra. But alas! Since that, hath a new whole world been discovered, far beyond it. One Painter with his art deceived the birds, with a bunch of grapes, and he thought verily he had done a great piece of matter; when comes me another straight, and with his art likewise, deludes the very Painter himself in his own art. One draws me a line, which he held to be indivisible; comes me another with a lighter touch, and cuts that line asunder with another line. It is often seen, the Scholar goes beyond the Master, Plato excelled his Master, Aristotle his, and so have infinite others; the reason yealds that Reverend Father Southwel in his Spiritual Poems. 
device of man, in working hath no end;  
What thought can think another thought can mend?  GOD, when he framed the world, might as well have built many more, and happily a second better than the first, & so a third, and so a fourth, because all are in the compass of his Omnipotency; but so can not man do in his works; for still there will be found an utmost term, beyond the which he can not pass; because he is finite. The Giants in their big conceits, had framed in their imagination a Stayre-case up to Heaven, by setting Pelion upon Ossa's back; but when they had brought it to a certain pitch, they could rear their building no whit higher, but down comes Ossa much sooner than he got up; and all was but a Castle in the air, which hangs there still, the foundation being shrunk away. Such are the works of Mortals; and so are they limited in all they do. GOD only is he, who is boundless in al. Yet when he framed the Incomparable Virgin Marie, and chose her to be his Mother, he made her so incomparable a Phanenix, not only to all, that ever were, or shall be, but even to such, as he intended or was able to frame; since being not able to be greater than he is himself, he could not make her to be a greater Mother than she is, * making her his own Mother; & therefore well may besaid: NEC SIMILIS VISA NEC SECUNDA.   

THE CHARACTER.  
THE Phoenix, is the Cesar of birds, 
The Inpresa.  and sole dictator amongst them, which admits no Pompey in his kind: & therefore Nature hath framed but one at once, to take away the cause of civil jars. He is the miracle of Nature, and a prime masterpiece of her workmanship; wherein she seems, contrary to her custom, to show some art. He is even the honour of Arabia Felix, or the felicity of that Region; the offspring of the Sun, that might well have been his father, if either two Suns had been possible, or two Phenixes at once. He is a Treasurer, or rather an Usurer of spices, with the interest of his life. He is the Heir apparent to himself, and fears no other's claim to that nature; bred of ashes, and, as we all, to ashes must return again; and yet immortal, while he dies not, but renews rather; and not as the Hawk, which mews his feathers only, but himself. The Tomb is his cradle, the Fire his midwif, himself the Dam, the Sun his Sire. There being but one at once, they are framed without a pattern, and yet so like, as they are taken for the same. He can speak much of others Ancestors, but nothing of his own. He is the Alpha and Omega of his kind, the first and last, because always the same. Being solitary, he is apt to scruples, but puts them over through the innocence of his life; for though by nature he be a Prince, yet dares he not say We, because there is no more than he. If he steal, they are but spices, whereof he makes no conscience, because for his Altar of Holocausts; nor hath any Casuist with him, to put that scruple into his head. And being so accessary to his own death, he makes as little scruple of that also, as done through the inspiration of Nature, as he calls it, to maintain his House, and to raise his seed. Were he not well known otherwise to the Arabians, to be a bird, by many fair demonstrations, it had been a wonder, that people had not chosen him for a GOD. But GOD, it seems, would not permit it, as a special favour to this singular and miraculous Bird. Like the Chameleon, he lives by the air; and no marvel, the spirit of birds should live of its proper Element, the air being the Element of birds, as the waters of the fish. The Fire he makes his Purgatory in this world; and that so efficaciously, as he becomes renewed to an other life, or like the Snake, which changing his coat only, is still the same, but yet more fresh. Whereby observing the precept, he puts off the old man, to be take himself to a new being, in newness of life.   

 
BEhold, how Death aims with his mortal dart,  
And wounds a Phoenix with a twinlike hart.  
These are the hearts of jesus and his Mother  
So linked in one, that one without the other  
Is not entire. They (sure) each others smart  
Must needs sustain, though two, yet as one hart.  
One Virgin-Mother, Phoenix of her kind,  
And we her Son without a father find.  
The son's and Mothers pains in one are mixed.  
His side, a Lance, her soul a Sword transfixed.  
Two hearts in one, one Phoenix love contrives.  
One wound in two, and two in one revives.    

THE SWAN.  

THE DEVISE.  
  

THE MORALS.  AD VADA CONCINENS ELISII 
ARistotle saith, that harmony and Musrck, is a worthy, great, and Divine thing, whose body is composed of parts discordant in themselues, 
The Mot●●.  & yet accordant one with the other; which entering into the body by the ear with I know not what divinity as it were, ravisheth the soul. The World therefore is much obliged to the first Inuentour of Music, being the sweet charm of all the annoys of our pitiful mortality. For even they, who are plunged in the abyss of all evils, at the least touch of sweet Music, do even swim, & vault like Dolphins (as Poets say) at the feet of that Minstrel Orion. What grief or trouble is so great, that revives not, when a gentle Treble mounts upto henaven, and there soaring and hover aloft, as on the wing, comes like a Falcon at last to seize upon the Base, as a prey, even to the loss of breath & sense of hearing? or when the Base after a long pursuit of the Treble, and not able to reach it as it would, as in a rage in despite with itself, seems to precipitate and plunge itself even to the Centre of the earth? Who would not wonder, to see the gentle Orpheus have such power upon savage beasts, to make them to forget their prey and chase, to feed and fatten themselves with such mincing divisions, & by the ear feed on those Divine viands? who, when he made his Harp to speak, and his fingers to run so fast, marrying his Angelical voice to the miracle of his strings, he made even the people of the Seas to cast themselves in shoals upon the Strand, to listen to him; and the Sirens to come forth and dance upon the green bankside, all diaperd with flowers; the Bears and Lions to quit the Forests, running in troops to lie at the feet of their sweet Tyrant. But away with these fables now, and cast we our eyes & ears upon that Divine Harp, fallen from Heaven to the earth, into the hands of David, who causing his strings to speak and chant forth his Heavenly and Divine Psalms, so did exorcise and dispel the Devil from his Hold. This Music therefore is an essay, as it were, and taste of Paradise itself, while in Heaven they seem to do nothing but sing the greatness & marvels of GOD, in two Quires, of the Angels of the one side, & of the blessed Saints of the other. But then, what music made the white delightful Swan, sitting on the Banks, not of Po, Meander, or Euridanus, but on the brinck of Death? Not of Cocytus, Styx, or fiery Phlegeton, but of the plains of Elysium, that is, by the shores of Paradise; when, like the Swan, feeling her purest blood to tickle her hart for joy of her approaching passage out of this world, we may piously conjecture she tuned forth her Divine Canticle anew for a Farewell to the world and a last Adieu; and therefore worthily is said: AD VADA CONCINENS ELIZEI.   

THE CHARACTER.  
THE sweet delightful Swan is that delicious Siren of the Brook; 
The Impresa  the living Ghost, that walks and haunts those humid plains, as if confined to her Eliseum there. She is much taken with the pleasant bank of the Continent, and spends much time therein, but yet will not trust it with her household, nor there be brought to bed, but rather hires some Island for the purpose; & the rent she pays, is some part of her children. She likes to have her walks and gardens there, for her delights; but her mansion-house, for more security, will she have well girt with an ample and spacious Moat. It is strange to see, how solitary she lives; and yet otherwise, you would think her, though she seems highly to affect that life, made for Cities and the Court; her clothing all, save her Spanish-leather buskins, from top to toe, of the richest Minevers; her gate, stately and Majestical; her garb and fashion, grave, yet not affected, or sprung from an overweening of herself. She rather pities the company of men, and their good fellowships, as feastings, bancketing, and pastimes, then hates them for it, and so neglects them rather, with a demisse eye, then with a brow contracted, or a lookmore Cynic, to appear Diogenes, or a Timon, a hater of men, rather than the deboishments of their manners. As she is solitary and melancholy by nature, she is very Musical, as likely are all such; but chiefly dotes she on the wind-instruments, and is never seen without her Howboy; wherewith, when she list, will she enchant the very Sirens themselves with the melody she makes; but then especially, when feeling the chimes of her passage out of this world to sound within her, as a presage of her death to others, she will ring forth such a peal of delicious and chromatic strains mixed together, as would move devotion in the hearers rather, then compassion, while they will judge straight, she had a pure soul of her own. She is a right Hermitesse; and hath her salads proper to herself alone; and as she loves them well, she will feed of no man's picking, but her own. Other whiles she lives in state, and keeps her kitchen, as the manner is in some places, in the Cellars, and lower rooms; which by reason of the moistness of those places, are always under waters; but she likes them never the worse for that, but rather so much the better; for so she feeds on her salads very fresh, but new-gathered. She is further much delighted, to take her pleasure on the waters, for her mere disport and recreation; and will have no other boat, than her own Barge, nor other oars than her own; and being so good a Swimmer, makes a pastime of it, to tilt her boat quite over head and ears. She is very hale, and hath a long breath, and will keep her head under water, longer than any Moor shall do, that hunts for pearls.   

 
WHEN mild Favonius breathes, with warbling throat  
The milk-white Swan chants with a sweeter note;  
But sweeter yet her Music far excels,  
When death approaches, which her tune foretells.  
So th' holy Spirit breathing from above  
Upon the Virgin, raised with wings of love,  
Her heavenly Muse unto a higher strain  
In her melodious Sonnet, But again,  
When gentle death drew near, she high aspires  
To tune an Anthem with the Angels Quires.  
Thy Cygnets (mother Swan) on thee rely;  
O make them white, that they may singing dye.  
FINIS.