AN Alarm against Usurers. Containing tried experiences against worldly abuses. WHEREIN GENTLEMEN may find good counsels to confirm them and pleasant Histories to delight them: and every thing so interlaced with variety: as the curious may be satisfied with rareness, and 〈◊〉 courteous with pleasure. HEREUNTO ache ANnexed the delectable history of Forbonius and Prisceria: with the lamentable Complaint of Truth over England. Written by Thomas Lodge, of Lincoln's Inn, Gentleman.  
O Vita! misere longa, foelice brevis.  
¶ Imprinted at London by T. Este, for Samson Clarke, and are to be sold at his shop by guilded Hall. 1584.   

¶ To The Right worshipful, Sir Philip Sidney Knight, endued with all perfections of learning, and titles of Nobility: Thomas Lodge Gen. wisheth continuance of honour, and the benefits of happy Study.  
IT is not (noble Gentleman) the titles of Honour that allureth me, nor the nobility of your Parents that induceth me, but the admiration of your virtues that persuadeth me, to publish my poor travails under your undoubted protection. Whom I most humbly entreat, not only in so just a cause to protect me, but also in these Primordia of my studies, after the accustomed prudence of the Philosophers, to confirm with favourable acceptance, and continuance as the equity of the cause requireth. I have set down in these few lines in my opinion (Right Worshipful) the image of a licentious Usurer, and the collusions of devilish incrochers, and hereunto was I led by two reasons: First, that the offender seeing his own counterfeit in this Mirror; might amend it, and those who are like by overlavish profuseness, to become meat for their mouths, might be warned by this caveat to shun the Scorpion ere she devoureth.  
May it please your Worship, to favour my travails, and to accept my good will: who encouraged by the success of this my firstlings will hereafter in most humble sign of humanity continue the purpose I have begun, commending the cause and my service to your good liking: who no doubt compassed with incomparable virtues, will commend when you see occasion, & not condemn without a cause.  
Your Worships in all duty to command, Thomas Lodge.   

¶ To The Right worshipful, my courteous friends, the Gentlemen of the Inns of Court, Thomas Lodge of Lincolnes● Inn Gentleman, wisheth prosperous success in their studies, and happy event in their travails.  
Courteous Gentlemen, let it not seem strange unto you, that he which hath long time slept in silence, now beginneth publicly to salute you, since no doubt, my reasons that induce me hereunto be such, as both you may allow of them, since they be well meant, and account of them since they tend to your profit. I have published here of set purpose a tried experience of worldly abuses, describing herein not only those monsters which were banished Athens, I mean Usurers, but also such devouring caterpillars, who not only have fatted their fingers with many rich forfeitures, but also spread their venom among some private Gentlemen of your profession, which considered, I thought good in opening the wound▪ to prevent an ulcer, and by counseling before escape, forewarn before the mischief. Led then by these persuasions, I doubt not, but as I have always found you favourable, so now you will not cease to be friendly, both in protecting of this just cause, from unjust slander, and my person from that reproach, which, about two years since, an injurious caviller objected against me: You that know me Gentlemen, can testify that neither my life hath been so lewd, as the my company was edious, nor my behaviour so light, as that it should pass the limits of modesty: this notwithstanding a licentious Hipponax, neither regarding the asperity of the laws touching slanderous Libelers, nor the offyring from whence I came, which is not contemptible, attempted, not only in public & reproachful terms to condemn me in his writings, but also so to slander me, as neither justice should wink at so heinous an offence, nor I pretermit a commodious reply. About three years ago one Stephen Gosson published a book, entitled, The school of Abuse, in which having escaped in many & sundry conclusions, I as the occasion them fitted me, shaped him such an answer as beseemed his discourse, which by reason of the slenderness of the subject (because it was in defence of plays & play makers) the godly & reverent that had to deal in the cause, misliking it, forbade the publishing, notwithstanding he coming by a private unperfect copy, about two years since, made a reply, dividing it into five sections, & in his Epistle dedicatory, to the right honourable, sir Frances Walsingham, he impugneth me with these reproaches, that I am become a vagrant person, visited by the heavy hand of God, lighter than liberty, & loser than vanity. At such time as I first came to the sight héerof (judge you gentlemen how hardly I could digest it) I bethought myself to frame an answer, but considering that the labour was but lost, I gave way to my misfortune, contenting myself to wait the opportunity wherein I might, not according to the impertinacie of the injury, but as equity might countenance me, cast a rain over the untamed curtailes' chaps, & wiping out the suspicion of this slander from the remembrance of those that knew me, not counsel this injurious Asinius to become more conformable in his reports: and now Gentlemen having occasion to pass my travails in public, I thought it not amiss somewhat to touch the slander, & proving it to be most wicked & discommendable, leave the rest to the discretion of those in authority, who if the Gentleman had not played bo péep thus long, would have taught him to have counted his cards a little better: and now Stephen Gosson let me but familiarly reason with thee thus▪ Thinkest thou that in handling a good cause it is requisite to induce a false proposition, although thou wilt say it is a part of Rhetoric to argue A Persona, yet is it a practice of small honesty to conclude without occasion: if thy cause were good, I doubt not but in so large & ample a discourse as thou hadst to handle, thou mightest had left the honour of a gentleman inviolate. But thy base degree, subject to servile attempts, measureth all things according to cavilling capacity, thinking because nature hath bestowed upon thee a plausible discourse, thou mayst in thy sweet terms present the sourest & falsest reports y● canst imagine: but it may be, y● as it fortuned to the noble man of Italy, it now fareth with me, who as Petarch reported, given greatly to the entertainment of strangers, & pleasure of the chase, respected not the brave & gorgeous garments of a courtier, but delighted in such clothing as seemed the place where he sojourned, this noble gentleman returning on a time from his game, found all his house furnished with strangers, on whom bestowing his accustomed welcome, he bent himself to the overseeing of his domestical preparation, & coming to the stable among the horse keepers of his new come guests, & reprehending one of th● for faulting in his office, the fellow impatient of reproof, & measuring the gentleman by his plain coat, struck him on the fa●e, & turned him out of the stable, but afterward attending on his master, & perceiving him whom he had strooken to be the Lord of the house, he humbly craved pardon: the gentleman as patiented as pleasant, not only forgave him the escape, but prettily answered thus, I blame not thee good fellow for thy outrage, but this companion, pointing to his coat, which hath made thee mistake my person. So at this instant esteem I M. Gosson hath dealt with me, who not mesuring me by my birth, but by the subject I handled like Will Summer striking him the stood next him, hath upbraided me in person, when he had no quarrel, but to my cause, & therein pleaded his own indiscretion, & loaded me with intolerable injury. But if with zoilus he might kiss the gibbet, or with Patation hop headless, the world should be rid of an injurious slanderer, and that tongue laboured in suppositions, might be nailed up as Tully's was for his philipical declamations. But good Stephen, in like sort will I deal with thee, as Philip of Macedon with Nicanor, who not respecting the majesty of the king, but giving himself over to the petulancy of his tongue vainly inveighed against him, whom notwithstanding Philip so cunningly handled, that not only he ceased the rumour of his report, but also made him as lavish in commending, as once he was profuse in discommending: his attempt was thus performed, he seeing Nicanor sorely pressed with poverty, relieved him to his content. Whereupon altering his copy, and breaking out into singular commendation of Philip, the king concluded thus: Lo, courtesy can make of bad good, and of Nicanor an enemy, Nicanor a friend. Whose actions my reprover, I will now fit to thee, who having slandered me without cause, I will no otherwise revenge it, but by this means, that now in public I confess thou hast a good pen, and if thou keep thy Method in discourse, and leave thy slandering without cause, there is no doubt but thou shalt be commended for thy copy, and praised for thy style. And thus desiring thee to measure thy reports with justice, and you good Gentlemen to answer in my behalf if you hear me reproached. I leave you to your pleasures, and for myself I will study your profit.  
Your loving friend, Thomas Lodge.   

BARNABY RICH Gentleman Soldier, in praise of the Author.  

IF that which warns the young beware of vice,  
And schools the old to shun unlawful gain,  
If pleasant style and method may suffice,  
I think thy travail merits thanks for pain,  
My simple doom is thus in terms as plain:  
That both the subject and thy style is good,  
Thou needs not fear the scoffs of M●●mus brood.   

If thus it be, good Lodge continue still,  
Thou needst not fear Goose son or Gander's hiss,  
Whose rude reports passed from a slanderous quill,  
Will be determined but in reading this,  
Of whom the wiser sort will think amiss,  
To slander him whose birth and life is such,  
As ●alse report his fame can never touch.    

¶ JOHN JONES GENtleman, in praise of the AUTHOR.  

THough not my praise, yet let my wish prevail,  
Who so thou be that list to read this book,  
I never yet by flattery did assail,  
To count that good that most did please my look.  
But always wished my friends such style to use,  
As wise might like, though foolish would refuse.   

In opening vice my friend who spends his time,  
May count by private good no profit lost,  
What errors scape in young and lusty prime,  
Experience (badge of truth) may quickly cost.  
Who sets the mark, that makes men shun the sand,  
Deserves good words, his proofs for profit stand.   

For common good to cross a few men's veins,  
Who like to Midas would that all were gold,  
I count not miss, since there unlawful gains  
Makes some men sink, whom birth might well uphold.  
I know the sore, the scar is seen to plain,  
A blessed state where no such wills do rain.   

In brief, I praise this book for pretty style,  
For pithy matter, Gentle be thou judge,  
O would my wish some fancies might beguile,  
Then fair revenues should not fit a snudge.  
A world to see how Asses dance in gold,  
By wanton wills, when Gentles starve for cold.   

Whose errors if it please succeeding age,  
To see with sighs, and shun with sad advice,  
Let him behold this book, within whose page,  
Experience leaves her chiefest proofs of price,  
And thank the youth that suffered all these toils,  
To warn thee shun that rock which many spoils.   
FINIS.   

GEntlemen, since the press cannot pass without escape, and some things are so mistaken, as without co●rrection they will be very gross. May it please you when you read to correct, especially, such principal errors as these that follow.  

Folio. 30. b. Line. 4. For wooed, Read won.  
Folio. eod. Line. 8. For cold, Read clouds.  
Folio. eod. Line. 15. For showed, Read shoard.  
Folio. eod. Line. 30. For concluding. Read concluded.  
Foli. 31. a. Lin. 34. For presents a secrets meet, Read with seemly secret greet.   
For the rest I refer them to your discretion, who can distnguish colours, and either better, or fit words to your fantasies.  
Your friend: Thomas Lodge.   

AN ALARM against Usurers.  
NO marvel though the wise man accounted all things under the sun vain, since the chiefest creatures be mortal: and no wonder though the world run at random, since iniquity in these later days hath the upper hand. The alteration of states if they be look into, and the overthrow of houses, if they be but easily laid in open view, what eye would not shed tears to see things so transitory? and what wisdom would not endeavour to dissolve the inconvenience?  
There is a state within this our Common wealth, which though it necessarily stand as a pillar of defence in this royal Realm, yet such are the abuses that are grown in it, that not only the name is become odious by sums error, but also if the thing be not narrowly looked into, the whole land by that means will grow into great inconvenience: I mean the state of Merchants, who though to public commodity they bring in store of wealth from foreign Nations, yet such are their domestical practices, that not only they enrich themselves mightily by others misfortunes, but also eat our English Gentry out of house and hame. The general faculty in itself, is both ancient and laudable, the professors honest and virtuous, their actions full of danger, and therefore worthy gain, and so necessary this sort of men be, as no well governed stat● may be without them.  
But as among a tree of fruit there be some withered fallings, and as among wholesome herbs there grows some bitter Coloquintida: so it cannot be, but among such a number of Merchants, there should be some, that degenerate from the true name and nature of Merchants. Of these men I writ, and of none other, my invective is private, I will not write general: and were it not I respected the public commodity more than my private praise, this matter should have slept in hugger mugger. Of these ungracious men I writ, who having nothing of themselves, yet greedily grasp all things into their own hands.  
These be they that find out collusions of Statutes, and compass land with commodity, these be the boulsterers of ungracious petty Brokers: and by these men (the more is the pity) the prisons are replenished with young Gentlemen: These be they, that make the Father careful, the mother sorrowful, the Son desperate: These be they that make crooked strait, and strait crooked, that can close with a young youth, while they cousin him, and feed his humours, till they free him of his Farms. In brief, such they be that gloze most fair then, when they imagine the worst, and unless they be quickly known, they easily will make bare some of the best of our young Heirs that are not yet stayed, whom zealously I beseech to overlook this my writing: for what is set down here, either as an eye witness I will avow, or informed even by those Gentlemen, who have swallowed the Gudgen, and have been intangeled in the hook, I have approovedlye set down.  
Such be those sort of men, that their beginning is of nought, set by the devotion of some honest Merchants, of whom taking up their refuse commodity, they employ it to this ungodly and unhonest purpose.  
They find out (according to their own vain) some old soaking undermininig Solicitor, whom they both furnish with money and expense, to set him forth and get him more credit: This good fellow must haunt Ordinaries, canvas up and down Paul's, and as the Cat watcheth the pray of the Mouse, so diligently intends he to the compassing of some young Novice, whom by Fortune either he findeth in melancholic passions at the Ordinary, or at penniless devotion in Paul's, or perhaps is brought acquainted with him by some of his own brotherhood. Him he handleth in these or such like terms, both nothing place and circumstance.  
GEntleman, why be you so melancholy? How falleth it out, that you are not more lightsome? Your young years me thinks should loath such sollome aspects. I may not any way imagine a cause why you should be pensive: you have good Parents, you want no friends, and more, you have lyvelyhoodes, which considered, truly you commit mere folly to be so marvelously sad and wonderfully sorrowful, where you have no occasion.  
If you want money, you have credit, (a gift which who so ever enjoyeth now a days, he is able to compass any thing: and for that I see so good a nature in you, (if proffered service stink not) I will very willingly (if so be you will open your estate to me) further you in what I may, and perhaps you shall find yourself fortunate, in falling into my company.  
The young Gentleman, unacquainted with such like discourses, counting all gold that glisters, and him a faithful friend that hath a flattering tongue, opens all his mind to this subtle underminer, who so wringeth him at last, that there is no secret corner in the poor Gentleman's heart, but he knoweth it: after that, framing his behaviour to the nature of the youth, if he be sad, sober: if youthly, riotous: if lascivious, wanton: he laboureth so much, that at last the bird is caught in the pitfall, and perceiving the vain of the youth, he promiseth him some relief by his means: the Gentleman thinking he hath God almighty by the heel, holds the Devil by the toe, and by this means, is brought to utter wrack and ruin. The Broker furnished of his purpose, having learned the Gentleman's name, lodging, want, & wealth: & finding all things correspondent to his purpose, hies him to his setter up, who rejoiceth greatly at his good hap, and rewards this wicked seducer with a piece of gold. To be brief, at first issue on the Gentleman's bond, this broking knave receives forty or fifty pounds of course commodity, making him believe, that by other means money may not be had, and swearing to him, that there will be great loss, and that he could wish the Gentleman would rather refuse then take. But the youth not esteeming the loss, so he supply his lack, sets him forward, and gives the willing jade the spur, who finding all things meat in the mouth, makes sale of this Merchandise to some one of his greatest fraternity, and if it be forty, the youth hath a good pennyworth if in ready money he receive twenty pound, and yet the money repayable at three months end. The Broker in this matter, getteth double fee of the Gentleman, triple gain in the sale of the commodity, and more, a thousand thanks of this devilish Usurer. Truly Gentlemen, it is wonderful to conceive, (yet are there some of you can tell if I lie) how this Sycophant that helped our youth to get, now learneth him to spend: What saith he? my young master, what make you with this old Satin doublet? it is soiled, it is unfit for a Gentleman's wearing, apparel yourself as you should be, and ere few days pass, I will acquaint you with as brave a dame a friend of mine, as ever you knew. Oh how sweet a face hath she, and thus dilating it with rhetorical praises, to make the Gentleman more passionate, it falleth out that the manned Falcon stoops to lure, and all things are fulfilled according to his Broker's direction. Promises are kept on both parts, and my youth is brought acquainted with Mustres Minx: this harlot is an old beaten dog, and a maintainer of the brothel house brotherhood, a stolen for young novices, and a limb of Satan himself, whose behaviours and gestures are such, as the world cannot imagine better, if the Gentleman weep, she will wail: if he sorrow, she will sigh: if he be merry, she will not be modest. To conclude, her lesson is so taught her, as she can reckon without book: Lord what riotousness passeth in apparel, what lavishness in banqueting, what looseness in living, and in very short space, our youth which was fligge, is now at leak, his purse●is empty, and his mistress gins to lower, which he perceiving, & earnestly bend to continue his credit with his Courtesan, comes to his ungracious Broker, whom with fair terms he desireth, and with humble suits more earnestly beseecheth to further his credit in what he may. Who seeing which way the Hare windeth, gins to blame him of his liberality, and yet only is the cause of his spending, and after a few privy nips, bearing show of good meaning, but yet indeed his way is to try conclusions, he hasteth to the principal his good maste● Merchant, whom he findeth altogether prompt & ready at a beck, to send abroad his refuse commodity for cracked angels: what conclusion is between them both may easily be imagined, but the end is this, the Broker returns to my solitary youth, & recountes unto him, first to make him fearful, how many places he hath been at, when he hath not visited one, how many he hath desired, yet how few are ready to pleasure, at last he breaketh out, & telleth him the whole, assuring him that he is to think well of his master scrape-penie the usurer, who is willing in hope of his well doing to let him have once more of his incommodious commodity, upon reasonable assurance. To be brief, the bargain is quickly beaten on, the broker layeth the loss, the gentleman esteems not so his need be served, the Merchant laughs at his folly in his sleeve, & to conclude, the bonds are delivered, the cursed commodity received, & at this second mart, how spéeds our yoncker think you, perhaps of 50. pounds in ware, he receiveth 30. pounds in ready money, & yet the money repayable at three months' end. O incredible & injurious dealings, O more than judaical cozenage, truly Gentlemen this that I writ is true, I myself know the paymaster, nay more, I myself know certainly, that by name I can reckon among you some, that have been bitten, who left good portions by their parents, & fair lands by their ancestors, are desolate now, not having friends to relieve them, or money to affray their charges. A miserable and wretched state is this, full of inconvenience, when such eye sores are not seen in a common weal, when such abuses are winked at, when such desolation is not perceived, & wonderful it is, that among so many godly laws, made for the administration of justice, there be none found out: for these covetous malefactors, purchase arms now, possess the place of ancient progenitors, & men made rich by young youths miss●idings, do feast in the halls of our riotous young spend thrifts. It will be answered, it is the gentlemen's own folly, & I grant it, yet of their folly who should bear the blame, truly the bier, who having experience to cousin, might have also conscience to forbear them: nay among the rabblement of such as we find to have fallen in their youth, how many experienced men find we at years of discretion? who having only the name of gentry left them to promote them to honour, & finding no relief any way, are enforced either in foreign countries to end their lives miserably or desperately, some more ungracious, are a pray for the gallows, choosing rather to die with infamy, then to live to beg in misery. But to leave this to his place, & to return from whence we have digressed: Our gentleman having got new supply, is pricked on to new sin, & the minister of the devil serving, at his elbow, persuades him to new change, for variety saith he, is marvelously to be admitted of, especially in such causes, & withal brings him to a new gamester a witty worldling, who more cunningly can handle him than the first, & hath more shifts of descant for his plain song, (but this by the way is to be noted, that the broker hath his part of the gains with the courtesan, & she cousins for them both,) this minion so traineth our seduced youth in folly, as not only himself is at her command, but also his substance remaineth to her use, this high prised commodity is employed to the courtesans bravery, & she which makes him brutish in behaviour, doth emty his replenished purse: thus the eye of reason is closed up by sensuality, & the gifts of nature are diminished, by the disordinate usage of bestly venery. Spuplies are sought for every way, by his wicked broker, to bring him to ruin, & to work his utter confusion. Thus, thus, alas, the father before his eyes, & in his elder years, beholdeth as in a mirror, the desolation of his own house, and hearing of the profuseness of his ungracious son, calleth him home, rebuketh him of his error, and requesteth account of his money misspended: He (taught and instructed sufficiently to colour his folly by his ungodly mistress, and cursed misleader) at his return to his father, maketh show of all honesty, so that the old man lead by natural affection, is almost persuaded that the truth is untruth: yet remembering the privy conveyance of his youthly years, & deeming them incident to his young son, he discourseth with him thus.  
O my son, if thou knewest thy Father's care, and wouldst answer it with thy well doing, I might have hope of the continuance of my progeny, & thou be a joy to my aged years. But I fear me the eyes of thy reason are blinded, so that neither thy father's tears may persuade thee, nor thine own follies laid open before thine eyes, reduce thee, but that my name shall cease in thee, and other covetous underminers shall enjoy the fruits of my long labours. How tenderly good boy in thy mother's life wast thou cherished? How dearly beloved? How well instructed? Did I ever entice thee to vice? Nay rather enforced I thee not to love virtue? And whence cometh it that all these good instructions are swallowed up by one sea of thy folly? In the Universities thy wit was praised, for that it was pregnant, thy preferment great, for that thou deservedst it, so that before God I did imagine, that my honour should have beginning in thee alone, and be continued by thy offspring, but being by me brought to the Inns of Court, a place of abode for our English Gentry, and the only nursery of true learning, I find thy nature quite altered, and where thou first shouldest have learned law, thou art become lawless: Thy modest attire is become immodest bravery, thy shamefast séemelynes, to shameless impudency: thy desire of learning, to loitering love: and from a sworn soldier of the Muses, thou art become a master in the university of love, & where thou knowest not any way to get, yet fearest thou not outrageously to spend. Report, nay true report, hath made me pri●i● to many of thy escapes, which as a Father though I cover, yet as a good father, tenderly I will rebuke. Thy portion by year from me, is standing forty pounds, which of itself is sufficient both to maintain you honestly and cleanly: besides this, you are grown in Arrearages within this two years no less than 100 pound, which if thou wilt look into, is sufficient for three whole years to maintain an honest family. Now how hast thou spent this, forsooth in apparel, and that is the aptest excuse: and lavishness in that, is as discommendable as in any other, if in apparel thou pass thy bounds, what make men of thee? A prodigal proud fool, and as many fashions as they see in thee, so many frumps will they afford thee, counting thee to carry more bombast about thy belly, than wit in thy head. Nay my son, muse not upon the world, for that will but flatter thee, but weigh the judgement of God, and let that terrify thee, and let not that which is the cause of pride, nuzzle thee up as an instrument of God's wrathful indignation. What account reaps a young man by brave attire? Of the wise he is counted riotous, of the flatterer, a man easily to be seduced, 〈◊〉 where one will afford thee praise, a thousand will call thee proud, the greatest reward of thy bravery is thi●● see yonder goes a gallant Gentleman: and count you this praise worth ten score pounds? Truly son, it is better to be accounted witty, then wealthy, and righteous, then rich, praise lasteth for a moment that is ●●ounded on shows, and fame remaineth after death, that proceedeth of good substance: choose whether thou wilt be infamous with Erostratus, or renowned with Aristides, by one thou shalt bear the name of a Sacrilege, by the other, the title of Just, the first may flatter thee with similitude, the last will honour thee indeed, and more, when thou art dead. Son, son, give ear to thy Father's instructions, and ground them in thy heart, so shalt thou be blessed among the elders, and be an eye sore unto thy enemies. A second grief, nay more, a corrosive to my heart (young man) is this, you are both prodigal in apparel, and in life, and ungracious and ungodly courtesans, (as I understand) are become the mistresses of your mastership: & thinkest thou this report could come to thy Father's ear, and not grieve him? Son, I had rather thou shouldest be accounted foolish then amorous, for the one may be borne withal, the other is most odious. Incontinency (young man) is the root of all inconvenience, it dulleth the memory, decayeth the body, and perisheth the bones, it makethstedfast fickle, beautiful deformed, and virtuous vicious: it impaireth man's credit, it detracteth from his honour, and shorteneth his days, a harlot's house is the gate of hell, into the which whosoever entereth, his virtues do become vices, his agility is grown to slothfulness, and from the child of grace, he is made the bondslave of perdition. The wisest by lewd love are made foolish, the mightiest by lust are become effeminate, the stoutest monarch to miserable mecockes. I wots well (my child) that chaste love is necessary, but I know (my son) that lechery is horrible. A harlots wanton eye is the lure of the devil, her fair speeches, the snares of sin, & the more thou delightest in her company, the more hepest thou the wrath of God against thyself: Let Lais look never so demurely, yet Lais is Lais, measure not thy liking by looks, for there be some holy devils: to be brief, the end is this, he is best at ease that least meddeleth with any of them. Demosthenes will not buy repentance so dear, as with high sums to purchase transitory pleasures. and I had rather thou shouldest learn of a Philosopher, then be instructed by thy own fancy, mark this axiom, there is no virtue which is odious after it is attained to, but the pleasures of love are then most loathsome, when they are determined: and therefore no virtues: and to conclude, not to be sought after. It is idleness my son, that seduceth thee: for the mind that is well occupied, never sinneth. When thou enterprisest any things, measure thine own fortune by other men's success: as thou considerest of their ends, so imagine of thine own. Think with thyself the wisest have fallen by love, as Solomon, the richest, as Anthony, the proudest, as Cleopatra, the strongest, as Samson, and by how many degrees they did exceed thee, by so many circumstances prevent thy ruin. It is enough for silly Birds to be lead by the call of the Fowler, and for men it is most convenient to fly apparent goods, & stick to that which is indeed. Though thine eye persuade thee the woman is beautiful, yet let thy experience teach thee, she is a Courtesan, and wilt thou esteem of painted Sepulchers, when thou knowest certain and determined substances? Do we buy aught for the fairness or goodness? Spangled Hobby horses are for children, but men must respect things which be of value indeed. I employ my money upon thee, not to the use thou shouldest be lewd, but for that I would have thee learned. It grieveth me to hear reports of thy company keeping, for where thou offendest in the two foremost, thou art altogether nuzzled in this, and truly I can not but marvel at thee, that being borne reasonable, to make election, thou art so untoward in picking out thy choice: Agree light and darkness? Or the I●knewmon with the Aspis? Doth the Wéesell love the Cockatrice? Or gentle borne, such as be ungracious? No my Son, broking bugs are not companions for continent Courtiers: for who so either accompanieth them, is either accounted a spend thrift, or one that is Sir john Lack land, either of their fraternity, or else a very fool.  
Find me out any one of them, that in thy adversity will help thee, or in thy misdemeanour advise thee. Nay. such they are, as will rather bind thee apprentice with Satan, then exhort thee to eschew sin. They be the Caterpillars of a Common weal, the sting of the Adder, nay, the privy foes of all Gentry, and such they be, that if they get, they care not how ungodly, and if they cousin, they care not how commonly: So that three vices have now taken hold of thee, first prodigality, the enemy to continency, next lasciviousness, the enemy of sobriety, and thirdly ill company, the decayers of thy honesty. The means to avoid these evils are manifest, but they must be followed: it is not sufficient to know a fault, but it is wisdom to amend it: Humble thy heart (my son) to the highest, and the more thou considerest of him, the less wilt thou care for this flesh: For what is the body better by the gay raiment? truly no more than the soul is by superfluous zeal, for as the one is foolish, so is the other frantic. Leave lust, lest it lose thee, use chaste delights for they will comfort thee; it is better driving a toy out of memory by reading a good lesson, then by idleness to commit an error, which is sawed with repentance. Of needless evils make no account, the less you accompany the worst, the more will you be sought to by the best. easy is it to say well, but the virtue is to do well: O my dear child, as thy friend I exhort thee, and as thy loving father I command thee, to consider of the tender care I have of thee, and to employ all thy indeovours now to my comfort: if thou hast run awry, call thyself home, and way within thy heart the reward both of virtue, and the discredit by vice, so the honour of the one will incite thee, the infamy of the other will deter thee. For those debts that have overpast thee, in hope of amendment I will see them satisfied, and if hereafter thou fall into the like lurch, I promise thee this, that as now I deal with thee as a father, so then will I account of thee as a reprobate. Thou seest fire and water before thee, choose to thy liking: in doing well, I will rejoice in thee, in dealing otherwise, I will nothing account of thee.  
The, father with tears having ended this his exhortarie, is answered in humble sort of his dissembling son, thus.  
Whatsoever (good father) hath passed, is irrevocable, but what is to come may be considered of: it is natural in me to fall, and virtuous to recover myself. I confess good sir, I am guilty of error, and have faulted highly, yet not so greatly as you intimate: the world now a days is rather bend to aggravate then to cover escapes. Wherefore, as the first step to amendment is repentance, so (dear father) I am sorry for that is past, and most earnestly request you to continue your favour, and no doubt but your son shall behave himself hereafter to your comfort.  
The father delighted with his sons discreet and humble answer, conceiveth hope of amendment, and returneth him to the Inns of the Court again, and setting him on free foot, exhorteth him to follow virtue, and intentively to long after learning. But he, whose heart was pliable to receive all impressions, no sooner is out of the view of his father's house, but began to forget his old promises, and renews the remembrance of his mistress, devising by the way how to delight her, and what suits to provide that may satisfy her. To be brief, being returned to London, and quit of his father's servants, (the news of his arrival being blazed abroad) his Broker in post haste comes and salutes him, his mistress by tokens and sweet letters greets him, he maketh his merchant joyful in the receipt of the money, and mistress Minx merry for the return of her young copesmate.  
To be brief, in post hast he▪ posteth to her chamber, where Lo●d what friendly greetings pass, what amorous regards, how she blameth him of his delay, and with feigned tears watereth his youthly face, how she swears that she is constant, and yet a courtesan: how she vows she is continent, and yet common: truly it were a matter to make a Comedy on, to see both their actions, and to note their discourses: there needs not many or long sermons on this, master Brokers help in short space is sought for: for the money my youth's ●ather gave him, hath bought his mistress a suit of the new fashion. The Broker ready at a beck, without delay furnisheth him with money: it is lamentable to report every loss, and sith in another place I mean to set them down, I will not motion them here. In short space, our Merchant beginneth to look after more assurance, and where to fore he was content with obligation, he now hunteth after statutes. (This kind of bond Gentlemen is well known among you, the usurers by this time have built manor houses upon some of your lyvelihoods: and you have lost that for little, which will not be recovered with much.) The force whereof our youth considering not, so he have foison of money: the world to be short, at the last falleth out thus, both land, money, & all possibilities, either by father or friends, are encroached upon, by this gentle master Scrape-peny, so that now our youth finding neither surety nor similitude, by his flattering usurer is laid up close for escaping. Let him write to his housewife Mistress Minx, she disdaineth him: let him entreat the Broker he refuseth him, let him make suit to the usurer, he saith he shall not cousin him: thus (this Gentleman that neither by his father's counsel would refuse, nor by his own experience be persuaded, to avoid the eminent danger that hanged over his head, is brought to confusion, and those friends that fawned on him before in prosperity, now frown at him in his adversity: those that depended with flattering words in time of wealth on his finding, now altogether disdain him that cannot find himself. Lo Gentlemen what it is to wink at good counsel, and to prefer young attempts before old experience: see here the fruits of contempt, and let these lessons serve you to look into: had this Gentleman regarded advice, had he considered of his estate, himself had been at liberty, his friends in quiet. But (alas the while) our heirs new a days have running heads, which makes their parents abound in tears: some are led with novelties in foreign Nations, some with prodigality in their own Country: some with pride, the first fruits of all impiety: some by love, the lady of looseness. If one hunteth after virtue, how many hundreds do daily practise vice? Let the experience of this young Novice (my youthly country men) make you wary, and see but into this one parcel of his life, and give your judgement of his misfortune: his wit was sufficient to conceive virtue, yet knowing (with Medea) the best, he headlong run to the worst. Nature's gifts are to be used by direction: he had learning, but he applied it ill: he had knowledge, but he blinded it with self opinion. All graces whatsoever, all ornaments what so they be, either given us by our fore-parent, or grafted in us by experience, are in themselves as nothing: unless they be ordered by the power of the most highest. What care conceive you, may be comparable to this young Gentleman's fathers sorrow? who seeth his house pluck over his head: his son imprisoned to his great discredit, and the usurer the only gainer, and yet the most vilest person.  
Now, what becometh of our youth think you? his Father refuseth him, dispossessing the right heir of what he may, and poor he is left desolate and afflicted in prison. And in these days how many are infected with this desperate disease, Gentlemen judge you, I myself with tears have heard some privy complaints, and lamented my friends misfortunes, fallen so suddenly. My good friends that are hereafter to enter into this world, looké on this glass: it will show you no counterfeit, but the true image of a rebellious son, and the reward of contempt▪ of parents; account yourselves happy to learn by others experience, and not to be partakers of the actual sorrow: Obey your parents, for they love you, trust not to strangers, for they will upbraid you of their benefit; it is better to have the stripes of a friend, than the kisses of a flatterer. Plato would have young men to look in the glass, for two causes, the one, that if they found themselves beautiful in visage, and of exquisite stature, they might endeavour to make the virtues of their mind, answerable to the lineaments of the body: the other, that if they found themselves of deformed shape, they should seek to beautify the same by the inward perfections of the mind; & for two causes my good friends, would I wish you to consider of this man's fall, and read his misfortune: the one, that not being yet nipped, you may prevent: the other, that being but yet a little galled, you would hold back.  Est virtus placidis abstinuisse bonis. 
As the Loadstone draweth iron, so let good counsel conquer your affections, as the Theamides of Egypt driveth away iron, so let the fear of God dispel all worldly pleasures: If a simple man fall to decay, it may be borne withal, if a man of wisdom grow in arrearages, may we not blame his folly? It is better to be envied then pitied, for thou art pitied always in misfortune, but envied at time of thy prosperity. To be brief (Gentlemen) overlook this advisedly, & you shall find many things worthy the noting, and no few matters written for your commodity. This miserable young man, overwhelmed thus on every side with manifold and sundry cares, beholding his most unfortunate state, in woeful terms in the prison house breaketh into these complaints.  
Alas unhappy wretch that I am, that having a good father that did cherish me, a tried mother that tenderly nourished me, many friends to accompany me, fair revenues to enrich me: have heaped sorrow on my own head by my Father's displeasure, refused of my friends for my misdemeanour, & dispossessed of my land by my prodigality. O incestpous lust that interest the heart, & consumest the bones, why followed I thee? & O ungodly pleasure why didst thou flatter me? O wicked and ungracious man that hast undone me, and woe be unto thee (vile wretch) that in my misery dost thus leave me. What shall become of me poor wretch? feign now would I beg that bread, which vainly I have spent: now too too late do I see, that feignedness is no faith, and he that trusts to this world, cleaves to a broken staff. Alas, how should I attain to liberty? or by what means may I escape my confusion? My Father hath accepted of another son, and all by reason of my lewdness: O that I had respected his unfeigned tears, O that I had accepted his good advice, O that I had rejected my flattering friends. But I see no hope is left me, my creditor is too cruel, yet hath he cozened me: and feign would I be his bond slave, would he release me: but since no hope is left me of recovery of my Estate, I refer my cause to God, who as he will remit my offence, so will he redress my misery and grief.  
Whilst in these or such like terms, the poor young man bewails his heavy hap, suddenly enters his cozening creditor, and in outward show bewailing his misfortune, yet in very truth the only original cause of his destruction, comforteth him in these or such like terms.  
Gentleman, the exigent and extremity that you are now at, though it be most tedious unto you, it is most lamentable in my opinion. These young years to taste of sorrow so soon, is strange, considering all circumstances: but since the cause proceeds of your own lewd misspending, mine be the loss in part, but the greater must your affliction be. I hoping of your well doing, neither denied your pleasure nor profit, yet in lieu and recompense of all, I find just nothing: a few subscribed papers I have, and some money I have received, but nothing to my principal, and yet notwithstanding so favourable will I be unto you, as if you procure me any one surety I will release you. To lose my money I were loath, and to keep you here it were more loathsome. I would do all for the best, not hindering myself, so you would strain yourself to satisfy me somewhat.  
The Gentleman knowing in himself his unability, beginneth in truth to open his state, protesting, that neither of himself, nor by any one at the present he is to do any thing, no not so much as if he released him to pay his charges, such is his misery, in that all his friends had given him over, whereupon most humbly he beseecheth him, to way his cause, promising any service what so ever may be: if so be it will please him to set him free. Mass usurer smelling out the disposition of the youth, begins to bring him to his bow after this sort.  
The world at these days is such (my friend) as there is small respect had of those which have nought, and great honour attributed unto them, that will most nearly look to themselves: which I perceiving, have given myself (as naturally men are inclined to seek after glory) to the hoarding up of riches, to the end that my posterity might be raised up, and my father's name (which as yet is of no account) might by my means become worshipful. To performance of this, truly I have neither been idle nor evil occupied: my thoughts have wholly been set of gettings, and who so now a days hath not the like meaning, his purpose will grow to small effect. And though of myself, I do what I may, yet (as it is necessary) I must have ministers, where by that which I look for may be brought to my hands: otherwise, my stock might lie without usance to my utter undoing. Whereupon, if thou wilt follow my direction and be ruled by my counsel, I will release thee of prison, and set thee at liberty: restore thee to thy wont credit, and countenance thee with my coin, so that in short space thou mayst have money in thy purse, and other necessaries to set thee up again. Thou seest that now thou art miserable, but I will make thee fortunate: thou now art almost foodless, by me thou shalt be satisfied with the best: thy friends now disdain thee, the day shall come that they shall seek to thee: now art thou without apparel, through me thou shalt be costly attired: nay, what pleasure soever thou shalt either imagine for thy preferment, or wish for to do thee good, thou shalt both find me ready to perform it, and friendly to continue it.  
The Gentleman surprised with this sudden joy, and unacquainted good speeches (not dreading that the Serpent lay hidden in the grass) most willingly assented, promising to the adventure of his life, (so his creditor would be his words master,) to do his endeavour to perform his will, as he ought to do. The Usurer seeing the mind of his prisoner, precisely bend to do his command, openeth his heart unto him thus.  
Gentleman, for that I have an opinion of your honesty, and trust in your secrecy: I will open unto you my mind, and according as I find your answer, I will shape your deliverance. Such time as you were at liberty, you know you had acquaintance with many Gentlemen, and they not of the meanest: who at sometimes as well as yourself were destitute of silver: such as those be you must find out for me, I will deliver you presently: apparel you in print, give you money in your purse, and at such an Ordinary shall you lie, where the greatest resort is: your behaviour and usage towards all men must be very honest, especially in all causes look into the natures of men. If you spy out any one Gentleman pensive, enter into discourse with him, if you may perceive, that either by parentage or possession, he is worthy credit, lay hold on him, feed him with money if he want, and (as though it proceeded of your own good nature) proffer him to be bound for him: if he accept your offer, come to me, I will furnish him: now you may divide the commodity or the money between you, and out of your part (considering me after the bigness of the sum) take the rest for your own fee: which if you look into, in a year will grow unto no small sum. This is the Loadstone must lead you: and by all means you must fashion yourself to feed humours: this is an honest means to live by, this is a way to liberty, by this you may pleasure yourself: and to conclude in doing this, you may mightily in short space enrich me. When you have found out one fit to your vain, remember this lesson, that what so ever vantage you get of him, either for me, or for yourself, care not how little paper and ink he can show of yours, keep still your own stake clear. In these matters you must be very circumspect, for there be now a days such underminers start up, that scarce a man can imagine his own profit but they preach it a broad, and lay it open. Thus do you see whereto you must trust: how say you now, will you be content to do this.  
The young man answereth, Good sir, there is nothing that you have said that by me shall any ways be forgotten, I am ready and willing to put in practice what you have taught, and no doubt you shall find me so diligent, that yourself shall say, you were happy in putting me in trust. In brief the conclusion is this, the usurer glad of this new Gentleman broker, dischargeth him, sets him a float: now who so brave as our late prisoner, or who so frolic? The old sorrows are forgotten, and new inventions to cousin▪ possess the receptacle of his reason. His old acquaintance flock about him, some rejoicing at his recovered liberty, some wondering at his sudden bravery, yet few suspecting his pretended and hidden knavery. Of them some he saluteth humbly, some ordinarily, he was not so well instructed, but it is as well performed. Now who but our Gentleman is a companion for the best, and a cousiner of the most, he stays not long before he be-provided of a pray, whom he so ordereth, as himself is partaker of the half, though the other be paymaster of the whole, and as those that are in the heat and extremity of an ague, desire drink to satisfy their drought: so this young gentleman that is brought into bonds by one cousining spend thrift, having once entered foot in the high way of prodigality, continueth headlong his course to his own confusion. But by the way it is to be noted, that this Gentleman which is brought into the laps by our late prisoner, hath his possession & portion allotted him, so that our usurer & his mate work upon sure grounds. Two or three Obligations and commodities received, our usurer grows to new devices, and sets his scholars to practise them, saith he, I must now have you learn, to bring in this your friend to pay your debts, and by this means you shall bring it about, you shall when next time he shall demand your help, tell him that of me there will be had no money before your old bonds be canceled, so that unless he deal with me, by some means to acquit that, it is unpossible to attain unto any farther supply. You may allege unto him how in such like extremities you have stuck, and will stick unto him, and desire him in so easy a request he will not leave you destitute, by this means shall you be rid of your old debts, and be as free from inconvenience as ever you were. No sooner hath our seducer learned this lesson, but forth he trudgeth to find out this young master, if possible may be, if so be he as yet be stored, he doth either make him spend it or lend it, & upon his new request of supply, openeth unto him all the circumstance which before he had learned, & so cunningly handleth him, that the Gentleman desirous of money is easily content. Whereupon the matter is handled thus betwixt the Merchant and this Gentleman broker to prevent inconvenience, if the broker's bond be an hundredth pounds, the Merchant will lend fifty more, and maketh the young man to seal an absolute bond as his own debt, so that the desperate debt of the decayed cozened, by his means is brought to be the true debt of this silly Gentleman. Nay when they have fatted both their fingers, they leave not thus, but from money shoot at land, for if the Gentleman have 500 pound in stock payable at 24. or 25. years, they will so work as all that shall be their proper goods which they will recover out of the executor's hands, either by attachment or otherwise, and besides that, so cunningly will they deal, that although they have sufficient assurance in hand already, yet will they not leave till they get an other more sure string to their bow, thereby to compass the poor Gentleman's lands, at his want they will deal thus. This Gentleman and the broker must be invited by the Merchant, when amongst other table talk, M. Scrape-penie feels my youth if his money be gone, & offering speeches of willingness to provide him always at his need, sets on by a beck his cozening mate, to procure the gentleman to crave more money, which he doth, the merchant cunningly coulering his craft, answereth him thus. Gentleman you see I ●m far out already, & upon your single bond I have disbursed a round sum of money, no less than 500 pounds, which in a poor man's purse as I am, is no small quantity, nevertheless if you will afford me farther assurance, I will not stick in ready money once more to lend you 30. pounds. The gentleman never tofore used to receive ready money at the first hands, gins to yield him hearty thanks & humbly to pray him to demand & he will perform, for saith he, considering your honest dealing, I cannot think you may imagine any reasonable assurance which I will not seal to. Why the quoth the merchant, the matter standeth thus, if so be you will seal me an statute for my money, no sooner shall you have done it, but you shall have the money, all your bonds in, & a desesance, to this that I offer is reasonable, & to morrow if you will I will do it. Agreed quoth the Gentleman, & so takes his leave, the next morrow according to promise, the Gentleman sealeth the assurance, acknowledging an statute, before some one justice of the bench, and coming to his Merchant's house for his money, is delayed for that day of, & in fine, his absolute answer is this, that without a surety he promised him none: he takes witness of his friend (as he termeth him) a pretty piece of witness, when he seeth no remedy, he demandeth his bonds, & he witholdeth them, he craves his deceasance, & cannot have it. Thus is the poor Gentleman brought into a notable mischief; first in being cozened of his money; next deluded by his statute without deceasance (for if the deceasance be not delivered the same time or day, the statute is yet nothing available) thirdly by his bonds detaining, which may be recovered against him, & continue in full force; and the usurer that plays all this rye, will yet be counted an honest and well dealing man. But flatter them who so list for me, I rather wish their soul's health, than their good countenances, though I know they will storm at me for opening their secrets, yet truth shall countenance me since I seek my country's commodity. Here you see two houses destroyed manifestly, the one of them, from a Gentleman made a crafty cozener; the other of them from a landed man, a silly poor wretch. And wonderful it is to see, considering the asperity of the Penal statutes set down by her Majesty, and her honourables Peers in the Parliament. How pretty collusions these cunning merchants can ●ind to infringe them. One private practice they have in delivery of the commodity, to make the condition of the Obligation thus. The condition, etc. is this, that if the within bound. T. C. his heirs, executors or assigns, do well and truly pay or cause to be paid to the above named M. S. the sum of 40. pounds of lawful money of England, at his own dwelling house, situated & being in Colman street, which he that said T. C. standeth indebted unto him for, if so be that he the said M. S. or S. his wife be in life, y● then. Otherwise, etc. Now in this condition, the casual mart bringeth it out of compass of statute, thus by collusions M. Scrape-penie gathers up his money. Others work by statute and recognisance, making their debtor to discharge in their books of account the receipt of so much money, where indeed they had nothing but dead commodity. Other work by lives, as if such a one live thus long, you shall give me during his or her life 10. pounds a year, for 30. pounds, and be bound to the performance of that by statute. Other some deal in this sort, they will pick out among the refuse commodity some pretty quantity of ware, which they will deliver out with some money, this sum may be 40. pound, of which he will have you receive 10. pound ready money, and 30. pounds in commodity, and all this for a year: your bond must be recognisance, now what think you by all computation your commodity will ar●se unto, truly I my s●lfe knew him that received the like, and may holdly avouch this, that of that thirty pounds' commodity, there could▪ by no broker be more made then four nobles: the commodity was Lute strings, and was not this think you more than abominable usury? Nay common losses, & the reasonablest is, for 36. pound for three months, accounted a good penny worth, if there be made in ready money, 20. pounds, nay passing good if they make 25. pounds, I have known of forty, but sixteen pound, and ten shillings. These be general payments, and receipts, incident to the most part of the young Gentlemen that I knew deal that ways: and truly I myself know within my time, no few number of Gentlemen, which are utterly undone by this means, and unless this evil be prevented, and Gentlemen take not more heed, more will follow after. But if the punishment of these men were. In discretione judicis, notwithstanding the law were coloured with all by them, yet the conscience of the judge would cut such ill members off. In former ages these things being known, were looked unto, and now when most punishment is meanaced, usury is most practised. Well may we now see that the crafty have as many cautiles, as the discreet cautions. If we had as severe laws in England, as once in Athens Solon set down, we should then cast a rain over the head strong unruliness of these Caterpillars: there it was not lawful, the Father being living, that any money should be lent unto the son: who being under his Father's government, was not to be ordered according to his own liking: and there whosoever did transgress this law, it was ordained that he might have no recovery, nor be relieved any way by justice, for that it was doubted, that the son having no ways to answer that he did owe, should either be enforced by practising conjurations in the City, or exercising privy theft in his Father's house, to rid and discharge himself of the burden of his debt.  
The Aegygtians and Athenians seeing the error of covetous usury to take footing in their provinces, by approved judgement concluded, that by no instrument, plea, execution, or other means in law, a body might be detained: the original being for corrupt gains.  
The Romans, who not only invented, but imitated those Laws which confounded error, by decree of Senate, with the Athenians, in the very same terms as they did set down, that no money should be lent to young heirs upon interest, neither allowing the detinue pleadable, nor the usury answerable, having a private eye into the unmeasurable and greedy intents of those covetous carls, who compass the Father's lands before the Son come to it.  
In the Law of the twelve Tables, orders in this cause were prescribed, and directions set down by the Tribunes: among whom, a man of rare virtue, Lucius Gomatius instituted and made a law, where in he enacted, that no usury, nor usurers should be allowed.  
Lucius Lucullus seeing this error already crept through all Asia, and (like a wise governor) willing to prevent, not only made a Law to avoid all occasion of unlawful games, but also appointed punishments to those that were subject to the error.  
Tiberius Caesar as curious as the rest for common good, did with as great circumspection as might be, take away the cause, and displace the effect of this mischief: not suffering that to take head in his government, that was the capital enemy of a well ordered State: Claudius Caesar not yielding to his Ancestors in honourable actions, renewed these Laws: Vespasian continued them: and Marcus Antonius Pius, with Alexander Severus established them with public instruments: who to the forepassed errors by farther insight joined this, That by this unlawful getting, many of the best and most ancient houses in all Italy, were brought to utter ruin, and confusion.  
The Indians disdaining such servile attempts, not only mislikie of lending, but also forbade borrowing, neither is it lawful for an Indian to proffer, nor agreeable for one of the Nation to suffer injuries: disdaining among them both the use of oblygations, and the abuse of pawning.  
Hateful was this error in Lycurgus Common weal of Sparta, whereas not only the name was odious, but also the thing itself was asperlye punished.  
Agis King of the same City, seeing the practices of the covetous to work so wonderfully as they seemed, not only punished the attemters of unlawful profit, but also in the open market place, he burned all the bonds and Oblygations of the rich Bankers in the City.  
In Thebes it was by statute forbidden, that any man should be put in office, that within ten years before the election had practised any unlawful chaffering.  
The Germans in their tarations of antiquity: whereas they bound the Thief to restore double the thing he stole, they ordained that the usurer should make recompense four fold▪ for his injury. And in borrowing the felicity of all these Countries, we ar● not so happy, as to abridge those errors that they most mislykt off: But here perhaps some curious maintainer of unnecessary members will conclude, that the state cannot any ways be hindered by ani● these actions, inferring that the dissolution of one family, is the setting up of another: which in as many virtues may match, and with as great value employ itself in the state, as the other that is decayed.  
hereunto I shape this answer, that if it be true, that the nobility of the Father worketh in the child, I cannot see how these upstarts may any ways employ themselves in honourable Actions, when as neither their ancestors ever knew more than their Beads, or their Fathers other then unlawful gains: and how can it be that where the mind only worketh in servile subjects, it should any ways be elevated to attempt honourable exploits? But be it these sort of men are necessary both in themselves, & for their Country, which cannot be concluded, in that they be broken members: yet must they conclude by the (touchstone of truth) the Scriptures, that their necessariness in this world, makes them unnecessary for God: by whose precedents if they should level their laws, I am afraid the graft would be so stiff in the bending, that it would be rather thought more necessary for the fuel, then worthy the correction. In the most happiest man that ever was, whether philosopher or otherwise, I find this, that one only blemish in his actions hath made them been noted for an error: now if these men should in their enterprises be ga●de into, I fear me y● as in the black jet is seen no white: in the deadly poison is found no preservative: in the sprouting ivy, no fruit: on the unnecessary thistle no grapes: so in these men the mischief would be so manifest, that the show of virtue would be extinguished. So that I can necessarily conclude this, that both these sort of men are unnessarye for themselves, unmeet for their country, unfit for a family, yea convenient for nothing, but to present the painter with the true image of covetousness. For themselves how can they be profitable, in destroying their souls, and martering their bodies? in consuming themselves with thought, in devising of new attempts to delude. If they compare but their heart's sorrow, with their excess gain, they shall find this most certain, that the encumbrances of the mind are so peysant, that they do by odds weigh down their commodity in the balance. What is it to get good, and to lose happiness? to enjoy much riches, and little rest? to have many Lordships, and much hartbreake? Alas, what are the goods of fortune, that they should entice? or the pleasures of the flesh, that they should allure? If our stately palaces were to continue permanent, if our worldly riches were to make our after years renowned, if every thousand of our ducats, were to benefit us but with a hundred good precepts: I would bear with covetousness with the best, & practise it with the most: but since we see that much hording cannot be without sin, much getting without grief, much profit without pain, much increase of goods, without decrease of virtues, I cannot but conclude with the philosophers, that the hoarding up of riches maketh many impressions of vices. And that those that are no ways profitable for themselves, are not worthy the names of citizens in a state: whereas, when all things should be limited by virtue, how can usury be winked at, when it is no way legitimate. Our laws in this state, although they suffer a commodity, yet confirm not they taking: concluding herein, a marvelous policy: to those have in sight, which is, that leaving it evident, that where neither Law of God can limit them, nor disposing of right suffer them, nor prevention of errors withdraw them from punishing this error, and not letting it slip, they as willing to pull away by péece-meales, as to confound altogether: like wise Surgeons eat out the dead flesh, by sundry plasters, and no sudden corrosive, thereby wisely warning the wise to pull back by courtesy, and the indurate by beholding their forbearance, to fear the scourge when it shall come.  
Yet some will here add and infer, (though unnecessarily,) that those whom I here so asperlye reprehend, are as religious as the best, haunt the Church with the most, at their burial be as bountiful as the godliest, and therefore it may not be thought, that seeing so many goods, they should follow the bad. To whom I answer, If they hear correction of sin by often haunting of sermons, yet continue their wickedness, when they know what it worketh, their actions are wicked, their lives dissolute, their ends desperate. For their bounty at their burials, that is but their last action, & their best attempt: but if we look into the considerations of their beneficence, I doubt not but we shall find whereas their shoe wringeth them. If they are liberal to leave them a memory when they are gone, alas they strive against the stream: for this it will fall out, perhaps they shall have a few poor women's praicrs for their black gowns, but a thousand decayed gentlemen's curses for their high exactions. If they be bounteous in hope to recompense the which is past, alas it is as much, as to cast water to stop a gap, or gather brambles to build manor houses. If they be looked into in this their penny dole, we shall find a kind of impulsion in all things: Truly, truly, I fear me, if Master usurer knew he should live, he had rother have a fair pawn for his four nobles, than a thousand prayers of a poor woman: and the forfeiture of a Lease for his xx. pounds, than the funeral Epitaph of the universities for his last wills liberality. Since therefore impulsion forceth them to be bounteous, not free will, liberal, we must account of them thus, that both they are both unworthy praise, being unwilling to be bountiful, and little to be esteemed of, though their pretence be never so perfect. What praise deserveth he that will proffer medicines to a whole body? or the spur to a willing horse, or the rain to an unwieldy colt, or honour to a perverse man: shall we conclude, because the usurer is rich, he is righteous? Because wealthy? Wise: because ful of gold, therefore godly? I fear me it will fall out that some of our scrape penies, are as worthy to be delivered to perdition, as Savanarota of Rome, of whom Marubus maketh mention) who not satisfied with excessive gain in his life time, at his death became a pray to devils: It grieveth me to consider of the unhappy state of some, who like fine cloth are devoured with these moths, like white rambricke are stained with this iron mould: & silly birds, are deceived with the call of this Fowler. O unhappy state, stained with so unprofitable members, whose feet tread the ways of errors, minds imagine mischief, hearts are indurate, confounding the fatherless, oppressing the widow, making all poor, and themselves only rich.  
A lamentable case it is, to see how true simplicity, the maintainer of peace, is almost altogether exiled out our common weal: and that worldly wit doth wade so far, as heavenly wise are brought into admiration of their mischief. In other notable governements and common weals, this one vice hath had a fall, and here where it should be most detested, it is most used. Great hath ben● our wisdoms in repression of conspiracies, great our policies in maintaining of peace, circumspect our preventions to eschew mutinies: and yet the long time we have laboured in this, yet daily more and more it groweth to head: and whereas the other vices have been exterminated by good looking to, this (though altogether loathed) is most looked after. And in this case I must appeal to you (right Honourable) whose wisdom is continually employed, to the maintenance of our state: & crave you cast your eye aside, and but look into the world a little, let your Heralds' Books be spied into, consider the state that hath been, and now is: and I fear me there will some tears fall, and more care be conceived. Alas I know it well, that many ancient coats will be found there uncountenaunced, and it is to be found out, that some sleep on their beds of down, in those manor houses, which were builded for the stay of some of our best noble signors. Nay, is it not true, that more are eaten out with usury, than any other abuse whatsoever? And although Commissions are graciously granted from her Majesty, as a most merciful Prince, and from your Honours, as most sage, fatherly, and prudent tenderers of gentry, grown into poverty: yet such is the contempt of some men, as they neither measure command, nor have respect to conscience. The reverend Fathers and eyes of Religion in this Common weal, how exclaim they on this vice, and pronouce the wrathful threats of the Almighty against these ungracious gatherers? yet how slenderly they regard them, their manifest & notorious mischiefs bear record. So that it is to be feared, that when neither honourable command may control them, nor divine admonition reclaim them, they are grown into a reprobate sense, and have forsaken the Law of the Lord, and hunted after the whore, and are drunken with the liquor of her abominations.  
Principijs obsta sero medicina paratur,  
Cum mala per longas invaluere moras.  
Noble Lords, may it please you yet a little more to give me leave, that as I have manifested the mischief, so (to my slender conceit) I may imagine a salve. The Nobility, Gentry, and other heirs whatsoever, either by reason of their Father's tenor are wards unto her Majesty, or else by the tender provision of their Parents, they are left to the discretion of their kinsfolk. For those that by her majesties prerogative, by the death of their Fathers, fall into her protection: the most part of them are begged by Gentlemen, and committed to their tuition: among whom, as there be some provident and careful to consider of the child's commodity, so (I fear me) other some are self minded, and greedy of their own gain: which if so be it fall out. I fear me the child that is under this government will happily miscarry, for if maintenance come from the protector slenderly, the nature of the youth being noble, will covet after supply, and so through the covetousness of the one, grows the confusion of the other, and by this means grows the Gentleman into the Merchant's book in arrearages, when his warden furnisheth him not according his degree and calling: but it may be, that there be purposes imagined by the governor, and practised by the Merchant, so that the one will not be partaker of the shame, yet will he not stick to bear part of the gain. But to let further matters wittingly overslip, for that I find it good to wink at somewhat: return we to the other sorts of heirs, left to the tuition of friends: among whom there grow like inconveniences, as in the former: for now a days kinsfolks are as covetous as others, and as crafty as the best, whose private conveyances the young heirs know, and severally when they be sought into, will open. But for the ordering of all these things, and the recovering of this state, it were convenient that the Warden of the Wards under her majesties protection, should at the receipt of the Gentleman, be bound according to the value, to the honourable, that have authority in that case, for the usage of the Gentleman, and that certain stipend might be set down annually for his provision, rather with the most than least, so that then it will fall out, that having sufficient of his own, he will not depend on the supply of an other. The like annimaduertion if it be had in respect of the other, and the care of taking the bonds, and prefiring the portion set down by the direction of certain justices of peace in every sheer, we should have less complaints to trouble your honours, and merchants should want young ministers to rid them of their resuse commodity. I have glanced into a matter (my good Lord) which if wisdom considerately look into, there will grow an exquisite platform. These causes right honourable are necessary, and needful to be noted, and such they be, that no doubt they will be as beneficial to the state, as any other whatsoever. For by this means your honours shall be praised, the wardens well thought of, the Gentlemen kept in good state, and the Merchant abridged of his crafty dealings. I have heard this cause lamented of among the most part of that profession, who loath their title should be attributed to so outrageous dealers. If they will desire the name, let them use the nature, & let not all the whole order be blemished, by a few disordered dealers blame: but to leave this to your honourable and grave consideration, and to return to your courteous Gentlemen, to whom this matter most pertaineth, & for whose only cause this pain is taken: I most earnestly beseech you look into your own states, & consider with yourselves, the misery & mischief that groweth by these follies: consider the end of all these practices which the usurers do put in ure, forsooth it is to make you beggars, where now your supplies be plentiful, & to empty your purses, where now they are replenished: consider of their mercy either it is imprisonment, or else liberty with more shame: weigh of their ends agreeing to their life: it was a pretty and witty saying which was written.  Auaro quid mali optes ni ut vivat diu. 
Wish a covetous man no more mischief, then that he may live long. For he dieth daily in care, and consumeth in thought: refrain prodigality, so shall you have no need of them: be continent, so shall you be sought to of them: leave them to their own lusts, they are not of the Lord: let your garments be comely, & not costly: for a comely continent man is more esteemed of, than a costly spend thrift accounted of. It is the virtues of your minds, the perfections of your understanding, your intellectual contemplations, that makes you accounted of among the wise, and beloved among the learned: In your professions be studious, for y● brings profit: an hour well spent, is better than a days pleasure: eschew those things that may decay your memory, & in every good action continued to the end: trust not to apparent goods, believe not credulously the fair spoken, be as provident to eschew trouble, as the envious is prudent to procure your discomsort: look on nothing that may alter you from a man, think on nothing that may misled you, if you promise, perform it, but in promising use discretion: these be the fruits of experience, learned by some in sorrow, and let them be practised by you in security Let not the garish show of a present pleasure, the silly shadow of an earthly delight, a transitory similitude of a momentany glory, make you follow that which will cost you many sighs and sundry sorrows (when you look into your state, and see how you are compassed of friends, smiled upon by fortune, beautified by nature, pefectd by art, when you perceive care hath not yet forrowed your forehead: labour even then to continue friends, to make peace with fortune, to maintain nature, to study art, and being freed as yet from trouble, fence your actions so strong, as they may never become troublesome. Aurelius in his Court seeing certain Philosophers using unseemly gestures, wagging their heads, toying with their garments, and stamping with their feet, gathering by their exterior behaviour, how unapt their actions were in respect of their precepts, exprlsed them the court, as unmeet to be preferred to honours. Although not Marcus Aurelius, but wise Saba now governing, think you that gracious Elizabeth cannot as well find out a vain head under a waving feather, a dissolute mind under a codpiece doublet, a wanton thought under a strange habit, as the Emperor under a light gesture? Yes truly (Gentlemen): no doubt but that eye that winketh at most things, seeth many, and that wonderful capacity that comprehendeth so much discipline, cannot overslip the mislike of masking bravery. If one error were as much banished England, as it was Rome, neither should idleness offer the covetous opportunity, neither the idle be cozened by the covetous. It is idleness that maketh amorous, it is idleness that maketh fascionatine, it is idleness that breeds excess, it is idleness that destroyeth all human happiness the eye fixed on heavenly contemplations, gazeth not on earthly beauty, the thought occupied on remembrance of moral precepts, never vouchsafe the misdéemings of the fantasy: the body subdued by assidious travail, is never altered by the motions of the flesh: the hope grounded on immortality, hath not reference to an hours pleasures. So that man is never altered in himself, enemy of himself, procurer of his parents troubles: but even the● chief, when idleness is predominant, follypreferred, & fashions to feed fantasies allowed of. The means then to avoid the Usurer's book, is to be continent: the way to be continent, is not to be idle: the reward of not being idle, is the daily increase of more knowledge: and the increase of more knowledge maketh a man happy. The sting of the Asp confoundeth in slumbers, the venonie of idleness, waiteth careless opportumities: truly gentlemen, the first step to avoid expense, is to grow in contempt of bravery, which if our noble young youths would practise for a while, it would so fall out, that not only vain fantasies should cease, fond fashions find no favourers, and the usurer having his odd refuse commodities dead i● his hand, would either afford better pennyworths, or seek for foreign traffic. But to leave you Gentlemen to your good counsels, and return to you good master usurers, whose ears glow at the rehearsal of these enormities, I must pray you give me leave to make up a conclusion, and to finish these few lines with an admonition for your cause; and though the corrections I use be bitter, account of them the better, for why they be more cordial. A greedy desire of gain, is the disease that infecteth you, some terms it thriftiness, some néernesse, but in plain terms, it is usury: and that is nought else but a greedy desire of other men's goods, and this by the commandment is forbidden to be followed, and therefore irreligious are they that use it. The man that coveteth gold, conceiveth not goodness, his appetite is of the earth, and those that are earthly minded, savour not the things that are of God. What though you cloth yourselves in simplicity of Doves, and your inward habit be worse than the voracite of Wolves; he that made you knoweth you, and he whom you offend can (and will) punish you; you will say you were naturally borne, (as Tully witnesseth) to take care for yourselves, and to provide Victum & vestitum, meat and clothing: and I grant it, but wher● find you, either Ethinke, profane, or sacred sentence, to confirm your extreme hoarding up of gold, yea then most earnestly, when you are most rich? The laboursome Ant gathereth not in excess, but sufficient provision for the Winter, yet without reason: and you which are reasonably borne, hoard up more, then orderly (at first sight) you well know how to employ. You long after Nabals' vineyard with jesabel, but the dogs shall devour you in the gate: you heap house upon house, land upon land, Quasi numquam sit periturum soeculum, as though this world would last ever, but suddenly shall the wrath and curse of the Lord fall upon you, and (without speedy repentance) he will consume you in a moment. O turn speedily unto the Lord, and put not off from day to day, lest his wrath be hot against you, and he make you partakers of the plagues of Chore and Abiram. Remember your old escapes that have past you, consider of their falls that are decayed by you, and yourselves if you have any contrition, and compunction of heart, will lament the general misfortune with me. Did you arise of nothing? Were you called from base degree to high estate? From poor servants were you made rich masters? Why, your goods make answer, saying, you have more than you can well spend, and I deem the greater your talon is, the more you have to answer for: but weigh in yourselves, how this great mass of money grew unto you: you must count that this Farm came to your hands by the forfeiture of such a Lease: this money became yours, by the virtue of such an Obligation: you have scraped up this ready coin, by making Centum pro cento: nay, you have undone these many poor Gentlemen, only by iuriching yourself. Too true it is, (alas) (and wisdom privately bewaileth it, to look into your cruelty, and Gentlemenes folly) that many houses are decayed by your means, and that you are Lords of that, which should be the portion of more profitable subjects: whose misery driveth them to try conclusions in all places: and both to forsake their Country, I pray God not to alter their conscience.  
Nay in these extremities that they are driven into, which of you either relieveth them? or comforteth them in their sorrows? so far are you (you worldlings) from lessening their miseries, as that (Perillus like) you invent new tortures, to drive them from your doors, calling them varabonds, and bride well birds who in very truth were your best Masters and setters up? but yourselves with Perillus shall taste of the engines you have provided for others, and the Lord shall pity the fatherless, and comfort the afflict●d, when that dreadful day shall come, in which the heavens shall be opened, and the Son of man shall come to judgement: how will the case then stand with you? shall your wealth then acquit you? No, no; the judge is not partial, he is just in all his doings, and true in all his sayings. In that day the horror of your conscience shall condemn you; Satan whom you have served shall accuse you; the poor afflicted members of Christ shall bear witness against you; so that in this horror and confusion, you shall desire the mountains to fall upon you, and the hills to cover you from the fearful indignation of the Lord of hosts, and the dreadful condemnation of the Lamb jesus. When it shallbe found out, that you were rich, yet relieved none: that you were of wealth, yet comforted none: that you rather replenished the prisons, than released the prisoner: that your life be sound sauced with cruelty, and no one action savouring of mercy: the Lord shall place you among the goats, & pronounce his We against you, he shall thunder out this sentence, Go you cursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels. This is the reward of wickedness, this is the punishment of cruelty: look upon this therefore (you worldly minded men,) and consider of these sayings: harden not your hearts, but be you converted, relieve the poor, be harboursome, restore to the owner that you have wrested from him, and turn, turn, turn unto the Lord (I beseech you) lest you perish in your own abominations: and to conclude, account of me as your well wisher, who for public commodity have opened your inconueniencs, and for brotherly amity, counseled you to call yourselves home: and I beseech you as speedily reclaim you from your errors, as I do brotherly admonish you of your escapes. How happy were I that having less cause, might have less matter to write on? And hapless are you, if not won with these warnings, you give more occasion to be written on: now stay you where you are, & alter your natures, and where you were accustomed to do ill, now acquaint yourselves to follow goodness; and than it will thus fall out, that I which exclaimed upon you for your vices, will then honour you for your virtues: & where in common assemblies your name grows odious, in public audience, you may be praised for your good life. The Lord send our Gentlemen more wit, our usurers more conscience, and ungodliness a fall: so Nobility shall not decay, but the sinner shall be reclaimed, and wickedness confounded.  
FINIS.   

¶ THE DELECTABLE History of Forbonius and Prisceria.  
IN Memphis (the chiefest city of Egypt) a place most renowned by reason of the opulency of the princes that have governed that Monarchy: at such time as Sisimithres was head Priest of the same, & Hidaspes governor of the Province, a noble Gentleman called Forbonius (highly accounted of for his unreprovable prowess, and among the best sort allowed of for his unspeakable virtues) made his abode, whose tender years not yet subject to the experience of more riper judgement (as the winding ivy about the stately Oak) entangled itself with many amorous objects, now allowing this choice, now approving the person, strait admitting a third. But the fates having registered his last opinion in everlasting & permanent destiny, made his manifold aspects (as yet not stayed) to light upon one seemly impression, and to allow of but one only paragon: yet so sealed they his opinion, as (if it be true that the gods ever were lascivious) I think the chiefest commander of the Heavens might vouchsafe of such dalliance, and be only amorous in this, that knowing heavenly perfections to be resident in earthly substance, he would either borrow fire of Venus to make the creature pliable, or carry fire into the heavens from whence Promotheus first did steal lightning. Favourable was the climate, that allowing universally to all the creatures it compassed only, blackness, vouchsafed Prisceria (Forbonius mistress) such sweet favour, who borne of noble parents within the city, (as of Soldwius, vizeroie of that Province adjoining to the city, and Valdwia, daughter and heir of Theagines of Greece, the copartner of sorrow with Caricleala, the strange borne child of the Egyptian king:) not only match all titles of honour with exquisiteness of proportion, but also so coupled the perfections of the mind, with the proportion of the body, as rather nature might disdain her industry, not art repent her of the dowry she had granted her: this sweet fixed Comet coasted Forbonius affections, who like the careful Mariner, having (amidst the frosty night) sought for his Load star, and at break of morning (his eyes almost dazzled with looking) found it out: so our noble young Gentleman, having passed over many personages which a slight over look, at last finding out his mistress allotted him by fate, yielded willingly unto importunity of the Destinies, and won altogether to be subject, being captived with fancy, he applied himself wholly to the accomplishment of his desires, and the attainment of his mistress favour: and for that the Goddess of love is pliable to all benignity, as not suffering a true servitor to be long unrewarded: it so fortuned, that she prosperously furthered our noble Egyptian in his purpose, preferring him by opportunity to the sight of his desired pleasures: for the propinquity of their abode was such, as that Priscerias' chamber window, had a prospect into Forbonius garden, by which means, the Gentleman in his meditations might behold his mistress, and Priscer●● (being by the equity of the destinies prefigurated to strange misfortune) might have occasion to look, and seeing, might love: but as this conveniency was favourable one way, so was the froward disposition of the parents, untoward on the other part. for Soldwius, (whether lead thereto by appointment, or driven to the exigent, by some former malice borne by the progenitors of Forbonius) had neither a liking to the youth, nor a longing to have his daughter married: either lead by covetousness, for that he would not stress his coffers, or by envy, for that he contemned Forbonius: yet what is concluded secretly amidst the heavens, cannot be circumvented with man's circumspection: for Forbonius as one which depended only on the favour of Prisceria, though fortune had hereft him of occasion to enjoy, yet would not he be severed from the benefit to behold her whom he loved: who warmed with the same fire, in increasing his flame, kindled her own fancy, & being as willing as the other to procure remedy to her passion, with many change of colours, and sundry sweet aspects, opened that to her servant, which he wished for in his mistress: who (with like sorrows requiting every circumstance) as one willing and borne to attempt: at such time as Prisceria solitarily solaced herself at her window: in mournful melody (making his Lute tunable to the strain of his voice) he recorded this Sonnet.  

THE Turtle pleased with his she compear,  
With sweet aspects, and many a turning lure,  
Describes the zeal in terms should well appear,  
If nature were so gracious to assure  
The silly bird with speech as well as I:  
Who stopped of speech by turns my woes descry.   

And though perhaps my terms by distance be,  
Seajoind from thee: I wis my mournful moan,  
Doth pierce thine ears, and Echo tells for me,  
In sour reports: would she and I were one.  
For whom I live, and whom I only love,  
Whose sweet aspects my dying fancies move.   

And if the air by yielding calm consent.  
Make sweet Prisceria privy to my suit,  
Vouchasafe dear sweet, that beauty may relent,  
And grant him grace, whom distance maketh ●uter  
So either hope shall make me climb the sky,  
Or rude repulse enforce my fancies fly.   
Prisceria not altogether privy to the report, yet concluding all purposes to her own fantasy, conceiving by his manifold sighs, aspects, and motions, whereunto he applied his actions, with a solemn sigh, as wishing him present, and a seemly bent, as requiting his courtesy, betook herself to her pillow, where comparing every accident together, both of the zeal she bore to Forbonius, and of the proffer he proffered to her, she broke out into these speeches.  
Alas (unhappy Prisceria) what untoward destiny hath befallen thee? That in thy flowering years and prime of beauty, thou art become a thrall to uncertain pleasure, neither knowing from whence the error first sprung, nor by what Treacles it may at last be expelled. If it be that nature envying my perfections hath allotted me this purgatory, that having at free beck all the benefits of Fortune, yet I should with inward bonds be enchained with the holdefast of fancy. Alas that in prefixing the torment, she hath not proffered a remedy, or in bestowing an ulcer, hath not vouchsafed a corrosive. How strangely am I martyred, silly maid that I am? That by one only look have conceived such an impression, as neither art can alter with medicine, nor time eat out with continuance.  
Woe is me that I love, yet fortunate am I that I hate not, for by the one, I am deprived of liberty: by the other, I shall onerpasse the sorrow by sureness. Yet are thy thoughts more favourable to thee Prisceria, than the success in thy love will be fortunate. Thou lovest Forbonius, and why? for his virtue: yet thy father hateth him upon old grudges, with whom when rancour prevaileth, what may be more looked for, then contempt and denial? But Forbonius seeketh Priscerias' favour, not Soldwius friendship: but Prisceria cannot enjoy Forbonius, without Soldwius favour. But Forbonius will by happy marriage conclude all malice, but thy father having an envious mind, will have a suspicious ear. Alas why imagine I wonders in my fancy, hoping that those destinies (which enthralled my affection) will subject my father's resolutions: since neither reason alloweth me any probablitie to work upon, neither hath Forbonius any motion as I see to compass aught: well, to the satisfaction of my friend, and to the contentment of my sorrowing heart: my friend shall know my zeal, and I will continue my affection, which being begun with so wonderful causes, must needs finish with a miraculous effect.  
With these conclusions she fell a sleep, leaving me to return to Forbonius, who being tormented with the same fury, and troubled with equal fancy, seeing his light to be eclipsed, I mean his Mistress vanished, began heavily to complain himself in these or such like terms.  
Alas you destinies, whose courses are inevitable: how fortuneth it, that in bestowing casualties in man's life, you prescribe not means to prevent misfortunes? and only beginning to fester the heart, prefix no precedents, whereby the humours may be expelled. If all things are to be referred unto an end, what may I well imagine of my estate? who intercepted by all occasions, must either finish my misfortunes miserably, or desperately. O love, justly mayst thou be counted licentious, whereas thou neither prescribest limits to thyself, to enthrall: nor means to thy subjects to attain liberty. But why exclaim I on him, that hath blest me with a benefit? as though the fate that made Forbonius happy in loving, cannot establish his success, as that it shall not be measured by misfortune. I glory in the benefit of my martyrdom, since a certain inward hope assureth me, that divine beauty cannot be sequested from just pity, nor a tried service in love, requited with a disdainful hate. But foolish man that I am, how may it be, that in seeking beauty, I labour not to attain it? & desiring to enjoy a benefit, I attempt not to make trial of my Mistress bounty? Why, by last night's beck she vouchsafed some show of acceptance: and that may as well be of reproof as liking. (O Forbonius,) it is a silly hope that is conceived by signs, either attempt further, or persuade thyself of no savour. Her father (silly wretch) envieth thee, and thinkest thou to compass his daughter? alas, faint hope is this when as those that should build up, do destroy: when such as should persuade, do diss wade: when as he that doth command most earnestly, doth forbid. But love hath no respect of consanguinity, but having only relation to him which he favoureth, delighteth only in the possession of his choice, yet is not Forbonius, sure she loveth: well, I see he that will be fortunate, must hazard, and that man that will be gracious in his Mistress eye, must by outward attempts and unaccustoured purposes, seek to confirm his happiness.  
Whereupon (upon sundry conclusions) he inserred thus, that the next day, by certain rare attempts, he would either finish that he had so long sought for, or perish in the performance of his enterprise: and the day serving to attempt that which he imagined by night, he bethought himself of the Cymnosophists of the country, among whom remembering one of singular experience, and notable learning, he resorted unto him, opening first, how he was enthralled by fancy, how precluded by all occasions especially by the father's disdain, next, how some opportunity served him, lastly how the agony tormented him, desiring the Philosopher, whose wisdom could see into all causes, to search out the fatal Exigent of his love. Appollonius (for so the Gymnosophist was called) having calculated the Gentleman's nativity, and seeing some planets retrogate: covering the asperity of the destinies, with the hidden secrecy of an Artist, discoursed thus.  
O Forbonius, if as Socrates did his gold, thou drown thy affections, it would follow that with him thou shouldest enjoy free liberty of thyself, and not suffer thy affects to rule thy reason. Art thou bewtiched by Circe's? of a human shape hast thou gotten a beastly form? of a man borne to reasonable actions, wilt thou now swallow an unreasonable misfortune? If many cares be the decayers of the mind, if many sorrows the consumers of the body, better were it by day to study the liberal Sciences, then at such time as we should employ ourselves to honourable attempts, to become unhonourably licentious. Alas Forbonius considering what a lover is, what a lover suffereth, what a lover seeketh, I find the person idle minded, I find his patience an insupportable sorrow, I find himself not himself, in that he is unreasonable. The daily actions of a lover are discommendable, the night exclamations so odious, as that they in this convert nature, who shadowing the world with darkness, limiting each creature his rest, yet they even in the time labour in outcries, in which they should take convenient rest. My good friend, the greatest wisdom is to measure every attempt with his casualties, & if ought happen that may seem impossible, to cast off the rain, and suffer it to pass in that form it was concluded in.  
Thou lovest (Forbonius,) better were it thou didst loath: for by loathing thou canst but be counted unnatural, but by loving thou mayst fortune to be unfortunate. If all things be ordered by the higher powers, it is vain you must conclude to infringe what is concluded on, if the destinies have appointed, that Forbonius shall not be happy in enjoying Prisceria, Forbonius is not reasonable in suing for Prisceria. Unhappy Paris in Helen, though fortunate in enjoying her beauty: but when love gins with a fading benefit, it endeth with an everlasting sorrow. The conclusion of a wise man must be, to yield to the necessity of Fate, and to continue contented with that which cannot be altered by succession. Tell me by the immortal Gods, my good friend I beseech thee, what happiness conceivest thou possible to follow, either in enjoying thy Lady, or finishing thy love? Alas, the greatest sweet is a continual sower, and after many unfortunate repulses, a sudden misfortune makes an end of many a years courting. I speak all this to this end (my Forbonius,) because I would prevent that by counsel in thee, which otherwise (if thou follow thine own lure) will be a confusion to thyself. Thou comest to me for counsel to compass love, and I would confirm thee, that thou shouldest avoid the occasions of following love. Thou wouldst by my means strain art to subdue nature, yet I labour both to direct by art, and to suppress by nature. Truly (my good friend) looking but to the hidden secrets of nature, I find thee subject to many misfortunes, and no way to be remedied but by one only virtue. Thou shalt (after long toils) compass that thou hopest for, yet when thy greatest pleasures begin to take the original: even than shall they find their exigent. Since therefore the revolutions of the heavens conclude, that by only continent forbearance, thou shalt be disburdened of many misfortunes, I beseech thee let this transitory pleasure be accounted off as it is, and finish up thy love with my counsel: so shalt thou be fortunate in preventing destiny, and continue in happiness, where too much love may make thee unlucky.  
Forbonius lead by the inconstant opinion of his young years, not weighing the grave and fatherly council of Appollonius, answered him thus.  
O Father, when the wound is given, it is ill counselling how to avoid the stripe, and when the heart is captivated, there can be but small recovery by counsel: how were it possible for me to restrain that in myself, which the Gods could not limit in their Deities? easy it is for the whole Physician to counsel the sick patient, but when the extremity wringeth excessively, none bideth the martyrdom but the afflicted. O Appollonius my mind measureth not the iniquity of fate, neither do I seek limits for that, which by no direction can be exterminated from out my heart. So that good father rather respect my present suit, than my future discommodity, and by your counsel make end to my sorrows: whereby it will thus come to pass, that enjoying the pleasure I long wish for, I may more boldly bear the assault of froward fortune when it cometh. If it be only death, that my enemy Fate threateneth me with, let me enjoy this benefit, as for Fortune, I will be friend to her enemy, the which is the grave, and acquaynting my soul but with the only Idea of my Mistress, think myself as happy, as they that have walked the Elysian fields, a long space to their content.  
Appollonius willing to do him good, yet sorry he could not prevail with his counsel, at length began thus.  
Since my Forbonius thou wilt be ruled by no counsel, thou must be partaker of thine own sorrow. As for thy request, I will so satisfy thee, as not only thou shalt at thy pleasure conceive thy Mistress mind, but also open unto her the secrettes of thy heart, by which means thou shalt herein have accomplishment of thy wish, though in so doing thou show but little wisdom. Whereupon, resorting to his study, he brought forth a mirror of notable operation, a practic in prospective, which delivering to Forbonius, he commended it thus.  
O my friend, I deliver thee that here to feed thy humour, which was composed to comprehend Arte. In this mirror thou mayst after thou hast written thy mind: taking the Sun beam, send the reflection to thy mistress eye, whereby she may as legeably read thy letters, as if they were in her hands, and by thy instructions made privy to the secrets of thy glass, return thine answer in that very form in which thou sendest. For the rest, I leave it to your discretions, and good fortune, wishing all things to fall out as prosperously in your love, as you would, and as I wish.  
Our noble youth (In amours) having furnished himself of that he sought for, repaired unto his study, where devising in what terms he might solicit his Mistress, at last he cyphered out his sorrows in this sequel.  
THat fancy that hath made me thrall to thy beauty (sweet Prisceria) commendeth my submission to thy good grace: beseeching thee to be as favourable in ministering a remedy, as thy beauty was ready to procure my thraldom. I make no resist in this my loving torment, but only yield myself subject to the impression. May it therefore please thee (sweet Prisceria) to be as beneficial in this, as the Gods are in their bounty, who for every faithful interatie, return a grateful satisfaction. And herein mayst thou see my faith to be steadfast, since Art itself serveth opportunities, and ministereth me both a means to open my hidden sorrows, and thee a messenger to bewray thy silent secrets. I beseech thee (by the sweet statues that are builded for the Goddess that is honoured in Paphos,) to be as just in returning favour, as I am forward in bewraying my fancy: so shalt thou have the possession of him, that is by destinies appointed thy assured beadsman, and I enjoy those pleasures, in which I may be only fortunate. Till than I must write myself as I am, The most unhappiest lover that liveth.  
Forbonius.  
This cyphered out in fair characters, and disposed in such terms as his fancy then prefixed him, he took his way into his garden, waiting some necessary opportunity, to put his purposed attempts in practice, and to bewray his woes to Prisceria: who wounded with the remembrance of Forbonius perfections, and seeing no way but his presence a mean to expel sorrow, betook herself to her accustomed prospect, and with longing looks she leveled at his love, which was already strooken with her beauty.  
The Gentleman fitted by these convenient occasions began his Philosophical demonstration, and taking his aspect as necessarily as he might, he presented Prisceria with his pensive submission: who confirmed by so convenient opportunity, betaking herself with all speed possible to her study, and by a beck charging him with no less dispatch to give attendance: she gave annswere to his amorous entreaties with this gracious affability.  
THe Climate Forboniurs where under I was 〈◊〉, (believe me) either hath prefigured me the destiny to be enamoured by thee, or thee the subject that should besot me: and truly herein the working of the Gods are secret, who employ such thoughts in me, as now by thy letters I find wrought in thee, making a unity in both those hearts, wh● by reason of parents' enui●s, are like to find fatal conclusions. And whereas by necessity of fate I find myself wholly captivated to thy pleasures, I doubt not but that God whom we honour for his brightness, and who by his lightning ministereth to our misfortunes, will be favourable in our proceedings. For me, if thy constancy be such as my true zeal is, I beseech thee by the same Godddesse to secure me, by whom I found myself first enthralled and made subject to thee: mean while I will write as thyself, and rest as I am. The most unhappiest lover that liveth.  
Prisceria.  
These conclusions being ministered with the same aspects they were proffered, the two poor couple had no other means to note the effect of their private joys, but only by silent smiles, gracious regards, and trickeling tears, and such like amorous actions, each one wishing the other, either happy in possessing their delight, or fortunate, if by death they were relieved of their sorrow: and being intercepted by the closure of the evening, they betook themselves both of them to their restless pillows, concluding upon many purposes, how to finish their languishing and tormenting martyrdom.  
Forbonius as one born to attempt, concluded with himself, considering how favourably all occasions fawned upon him) to attempt the stealing away of Prisceria: who poor soul in careful dreams imagining of her days fancies, was forestaled of all favour by the unhappy approach of her father, who furnished with all worldly policies to prevent what he misliked, and compass that he suspected: perceiving by his daughters solome aspects, some secret sorrow that troubled her, having remembered that axiom of the Philosophers, that dreams are the prefigurations of days sorrow, watched his time so nearly, that even at that very instant he entered the chamber of his daughter, when drowned in her sweet delightful dreams, she begun at his entry to cry 〈◊〉 thus. O fortunate Forbonius! which her father marking very precisely, and concluding whereupon the sigh took his hold fast, awaking his daughter on a sudden, very cunningly compassed her thus.  
O my Prisceria, let it not seem strange unto thee, to behold thine aged Fathers unaccustomable access, since he is now perplexed with unacquainted fears. Alas my daughter, thy father seeing thee beautiful, is not careless of thy comfort, neither can he that laboured to bring thee to light, suffer she to pass thy days in loathsome mislike. At this instant when I entered thy chamber, in thy dream (as me seemed) thy soul betokening (as it should seem) some days sorrow or pleasure, exclaimed thus: O fortunate Forbonius, thou knowest how hateful the person thou didst name is to thy father, who if he be fortunate in thy dowry, I love him: I shall esteem him unfortunate in the favour thou wilt assure him: who being a collop of my ●lesh, wilt not allow of that, which is loathsome to thy father: O Prisceria Soldwius seeth, and thy secret dreams bewray that the fortunacie of Forbonius, is either unfortunate for thyself, or not allowable by thy Father's opinion. Thy change of constitution, thy hidden sorrow, my sweet child made me suspicions, but now the very true messenger of thy mind confirming me, I must without circumstance conclude, that Prisceria loveth her father's enemy, that Prisceria desireth Forbonius favour, and detesteth her father's choice, which if it be so; O my daughter, I fear me thy love will not be so favourable, as my disdain bitter, wherefore if thou art entangled, since thou knowest my opinion, forbear, or if no wisdom will conclude thee within limits, my displeasure shall exclude thee from out all benefit of my favour. Choose now Prisceria, whether with calm persuasions thou wilt yield to my bent, or by unaccustomed displeasure be partaker of thy Father's wrath.  
Upon these conclusions, Prisceria all abashed, shaking of the drowsiness of her dreaming, made answer to Soldwius in these terms.  
These strange suppositions, my good Father, argue the slender opinion of yourself, who by the uncertainest signs that may be, confirm your opinion as you please. In my dreams you said I called Forbonius fortunate, and may it not be, that as my tongue uttered that it thought not, your mind immagineth that which is not? counting every light shadow a substance, and every little similitude of truth, an undoubted demonstration. Did I call thine enemy fortunate? Truly Father I fear me I might justly conclude it, for he poor Gentleman little dreameth on displeasures, when at such time as rest should occupy your senses, you most travail in your rancour: by certain tokens as you say, you conclude, that I am affectionate, and by this silly conclusion of a dream, you infer an undoubted truth, that I am enamoured with Forbonius, and if perhaps the necessity of the fates be such, Prisceria shall find herself happy in loving Forbonius, by whose means her Father may cease rancour, and take rest, and his daughter satisfied with that she seeketh for, be no farther troubled with dreaming fantasies.  
Soldwius perceiving by these speeches the certainty of his daughter's affection, as one altogether enraged, calling up his wise, and raising his servants, left the billye maid all amazed at his sudden departure, whereas the old man exclaiming upon the disobedience of his daughter, and thundering out many revenges against poor Prisceria, caused his horses to be saddeled, and perforce (contrary to her expectation) made her be conveyed to Farnusium, a manor house of his own, a place for the solitariness more fit for a Timon, then convenient for a beautiful Lady, the only company there being shepherds, who upon the Vast mountains recorded the praise of the Country favourer Pan, and the rural amity between them, and their Country lasses. Thus from stately Court, from the regards of her sweet friend, from the pleasures that follow the City, her companions were rural maidens, her retinue forlicke shepherds: whose slight rapacity not yielding any comfort to allay the Gentlewoman's sorrowings, made her (to her more heart grief) continue her pensiveness, and sup up her conceived sorrow in silence. But to repeat the moan on the other side that amorous Forbonius made, when by certain report he had notice of his mistress departure, were wonderful, who being in himself altogether confounded, not knowing where to find her out which was the only mistress of his fantasy, Lord with how many sighs breathed he forth his sorrow, and compassed on every side with despairing joys, in the very same garden where tosore he repeated his pleasures, he in these waylefull terms recounted his miseries.  
Alas unfortunate Egyptian, whose faithful affections ar● so immutable, as thy natural all colour is unstainable. How injurious are the destinies? that granting thee life, they daily hasten thy destruction, that vouchsafing thee pleasure, they sister it not to be permanent: that admitting thee the benefit of beauties good grace, they deprive thee of the possession and blessing of that thou desirest. Alas what shall befall me? when the glory of my eyes are dimmed? when the pleasures of my heart are determined? when she whom I love nearest, is farther off from my presence? when the injurious repulses of the father, makes every attempt of Forbonius unfortunate. Woe is me, what way may I imagine to make an end of my misery? Should I with despairing rashness finish up the Catastrophe of my troubles? Should I being bereft of her by whom I live, dispossess myself of that she most doth like? Should I in making myself only fortunate by the allay of my sorrows, leave Prisceria to her daily mournings, both to lament my deceasure, & her froward destiny? no Forbonius, it is but vain quiet that is to her discontentment, who being equally enthralled with thyself, will as willingly be partaker of thy torment as thyself. But why wail I thus in feminine sorrow, when my happiness is to be accomplished by manly attempt? Soldwius rigour hath caused Priscerias' absence, yet cannot the father's displeasure determine the daughter's love, she liveth to thy wish Forbonius, she loveth to thy weal Forbonius, she willbe constant till death Forbonius, why shouldest thou then leave her unsought for, Forbonius? Attempt vain man, to seek out thine assured, let not the distance of place disannul thy good hap? Soldwius banishment is concluded within the limits of Egypt, and since it is so, either Forbonius will attain her he desireth, or revenge the unjust rigour of an injurious Father.  
Upon this resolution, as a man quite dispossessed of himself, he hasted to Apollonius, recounting unto him how all things haw fortuned, beseeching him (not without foison of tears) to seek but by art where Prisceria was conversant, and to direct him by counsel, who altogether was confounded with despair. Apollonius by exterior ●●gnes conceiving the interior heartes-griefe, and seeing the poor young Gentleman martyred so miraculously, comparing times and revolutions, attained to the knowledge of her abode, and concluding in himself to comfort him, which almost despaired, he spoke thus to Forbonius.  
My good friend, whence groweth it, that neither the nobility of thy ancestors? nor thy forepast attempts? neither the benefit of thy mistress favour can confirm thee, but that thou wilt be careful for that which thou hast already almost compassed. Pluck up your heart my sweet Forbonius, for thy Prisceria is not far from ●hée. Farnusium a manor house of her Fathers, seated East out of this City, whereas she is so circumspectly looked into, that by any means, unless by secret and convenient policy, thou canst come to the accomplishment of thy desire. Thou must therefore attired altogether like a shepherd, depart this city, and by some convenient means procure the keeping of some one Farmer's sheep, which is resident among those mountains, by whose means thou shalt fall in acquaintance with the garden of thy mistress, called Sotto, and having convenient occasion to satisfy thy affection, possess thyself of that thou hast long desired.  
Forbonius concluding his reply with hearty thanks, suddenly departed, & remembering himself of one Corbo, a tenant of his, which had his mansion house very conveniently, seated hard by the manor house of Soldunius, he hastily shaped his journey unto him, & making him prive to that he desired, & swearing him to be constant & continue secret, he betook himself to the keeping of his tenant's sheep, & not forgetting to drive his flock near unto the lawnd whereas Soldwius servants grazed their sheep, he so demean●ed himself, that not only he attained the favour of Sotto which he sought for, but also for his courteous affability was accounted of among y● whol● troop of herds men for the best singer, & the tunablest Musician. His Aeglogs were so delectable, & the delivery of them so delicate. Whereupon by good fortune it so fell out, that Forbonius under the colourable name of Arualio, was desired by Sotto, to resort unto the mamnor house, who informed him of all that happened, telling him of the careful demeanour of his sorrowing young mistress, who pleased with nothing but with solitary music, pined herself away which melancholy, & not without cause, (said he,) for my old master hath forbidden me the admitting of any one to her presence, not suffering her to pass the limits of my wary eye: nor allowing her to walk without the castle walls for her recreation. For my sake therefore chant her some melody, & resort with me to a convenieet arbour within our garden, whereas she walking for her recreation, may perhaps take some delight in thy sorrowful mournings, in that they most fit her fantasy. Forbonius as willing to wend, as he desirous to persuade, accompanied Sotto to Farnusium, where having a place appointed him to apply his Aeglogs, and the Goddess before him whom he should divine upon, he under these secrets described his passions.  
AMidst these Mountains on a time did dwell,  
A lovely shepherd who did bear the bell.  
For sweet reports and many loving lays:  
Whom while he fed his flock in desert ways,  
A netheards' daughter decked with lovely white,  
Beheld and loud the lass Corinna height.  
Him sought she oft with many a sweet regard,  
With sundry tokens she her suits preferred,  
Her care to keep his feeding flock from stray,  
Whilst careless he amidst the lawns did play.  
Her sweet regards she spent upon his face,  
Her Country cates she sent to gain his grace,  
Her garlands gay to deck his temples fair,  
Her doubled sighs bestowed on gliding air,  
Her pleasant kiss where she might steal a touch,  
Corinnas' zeals to Corulus was such.  
He wanton shepherd glorying in her suit,  
These signs of zeal to folly did impute:  
Not weighing of her many loving sights,  
Her watery eyes, her secret moan by nights:  
Her careless comfort in her fruitful ewes,  
Her moanful Aeglogs full of careful shows,  
But scorning that, (which might that Godhead move,  
Who in a shepherds form, for Ioues behove,  
Did charm the watchman of the heifer fair,  
For whose behoof the thunder left the air.)  
He left the place wher● she did love to bide,  
And drove his flock another way beside.  
Whose dire disdain (the God that kindles love,  
And makes impressions strangely from above  
Misliking) strake with fancy at that stour,  
The silly shepherd wounded by his power.  
Now sought for that which he tofore did shun,  
And now the heat of fancy first begun,  
To strain a yielding in his restless mind:  
Such are the wounds that pass from fancy blind,  
That Corulus will now Corinna we,  
Though erst he loathed and scorned so to do.  
Now she that sought with many a sweet aspect,  
Is sued to now by him that did neglect.  
Now bountiful is sweet Corinnas' grace,  
Now like the Sun in welkin shines her face,  
Her eyes like Gemini attend on ●oue,  
Her stately front was figured from above,  
Her dainty nose of ivory fair and shéene,  
Bepurfurate with ruddy roses been.  
Her cherry lip● doth daunt the morning hue,  
From whence a breath so pleasant did ensue,  
As that which laid fair Psyche's in the veil,  
Whom Cupid wood and wo●d to his avail.  
Within the compass of which hollow sweet,  
Those orient ranks of silver pearls do meet,  
Prefixing like perfection to the eye,  
As silver cold amidst the summer's sky:  
For whence such words in wisdom couched be,  
As Gods from thence fetch their Philosophy:  
Her dimpled chin of Alabaster white,  
Her stately neck where nature did acquit  
Herself so well, as that at sudden sight,  
She wished the work were spent upon herself,  
Her cunning thus was showed upon the shelf:  
For in this pile was fancy painted fair,  
In either hand an azure pipe she bore:  
By one repeating many a sweet consent,  
By other comfort to the heart she sent.  
From which a seemly passage there doth show,  
To stranger's pleasures that are placed allow,  
Like to the forrowe Phaeton did leave,  
Amidst the welkin when he did receive,  
His Father's charge, and set the world on fire:  
In this fair path oft paced sweet desire,  
At every turn beholding with delight,  
That Marble mount that did affect the sight.  
Of virgin's wax the sweet impression was,  
The cunning compass thereof did surpass,  
For art concluding all perfections there,  
Wrote this report, All graces bideth here.  
Which Cupid spying built his mansion so,  
As scorning those sweet graces to bestoe  
O● mortal man, with bow ibent doth wait,  
Lest jove should steal impressions by deceit.  
And wondering at the 〈◊〉 come●●●ake,  
In thought concludes it m●●ter for the air  
Then mortal mould: next which the stately thighs,  
Like two fair compassed marble pillars rise,  
Whose white doth stain the dainty driven snow:  
Next which the knees with lusty bend below  
conjoined with nerves and cords of Amber sweet,  
This stately piles with gladsome honour greet,  
Such stately knees as when they bend a light,  
All knees do bend and bow with strange delight.  
Her calves with stranger compass do succeed,  
In which the asures streams a wonder breed,  
Both art and nature therein laboured have,  
To paint perfection in her colours brave,  
Next which, the pretty ground work of the pile,  
Doth show itself and wonder doth beguile,  
The joints whereof combined of Amber sweet,  
With coral cords, yield bend to seemly feet.  
From which, whose li●t to lift his gazing eye,  
Shall greater cause of wonder soon espy.  
When on the back he bends his wavering look,  
In which the work and task Diana took,  
When with Arachne for the prize she strove,  
Both art and nature there excelled have.  
Where from Pygmalion's image seemly white,  
Where close conveyance passing Gordians plight,  
Where lovely Nectar drink for all the Gods,  
Where every grace is stained there by odds.  
Will not content with gazing look for more,  
And spy those arms that stand his sight before,  
Which for their mould the Egyptian wonders pass,  
Which for their beauty stain the crystal glass,  
Which in their motion master natures sweet,  
Where bl●shing streams present a secrets meet,  
Will now amazed, conclude at last of this,  
That in the hands all grace concluded is.  
Where Nature limits ever fatal time,  
Where Fortune figures pleasure in her prime,  
Whence spread those fingers tipped with ivory,  
Whose touch Medusa's turn may well supply,  
Where to conclude as now the shepherd deems  
All grace all beauty, all perfections seems.  
Thus Corulus with many secret thoughts,  
Drains on her whom erst he set at naughts:  
And forced by scorch of inward shrouded fire,  
He seeks for her his fancy did require.  
Who fraught with woes in secret shrewdes renewed,  
Her silent grief unsure of that insude.  
Her Corulus with wary search at last  
At sudden found: and as a man aghast  
At that he saw, drew back with fear, and than  
Remembering of his lwoes his suit began:  
Of weet Corinna blessed be the soil  
That yields thee rest amidst thy daily toil,  
And happy ground whereon thou sa●est so:  
Blessed be thy flock, which in these lawns do go,  
And happy I, but having leave to look:  
Which said, with fear he pawsd, and blood forsook  
His 〈◊〉 face, till she that wrought the fire,  
Restored the red, and kindled sweet desire.  
And with a bashful look beholding him,  
Which many months her pleasant foe had been:  
She cast her arms about his drooping necks,  
And with her dainty fingers dawde him up.  
And kissing of his paly coloured face,  
(Like as the Gods) by touch did soon displace  
The sour, that altered the poor shepherds sweet,  
When thus she 'gan her Corulus to greet:  
O lovely shepherd happy be the hour,  
In which (I know not by what secret power)  
The Gods have sent thee hither to thy friend,  
Alas what grief should Corulus offend?  
Whom fairest Nymph might well a liking lend.  
Thy grazing Ewes with udders full of milk,  
With fruitful fleece and wool as soft as silk,  
Take glory in the fatness of this soil  
And praise their Master's care and busy toil:  
And now accuse thee of thy drooping moan,  
'tis but enough for me to wail alone  
For why Corinna only hapless is.  
Poor Corulus at last revived by this,  
'Gan sighing silence now to interrupt  
And banish fear which did his hope corrupt.  
And thus he said: O Nymph of beauty's train,  
The only cause and easer of my pain:  
'tis not the want of any worldly joy,  
Nor fruitless breed of Lambs procures my noy,  
Ne sigh I thus for any such mishap:  
For these vain goods I lull in fortune's lap.  
But other griefs and greater cause of care,  
As now Corinna my torments are.  
Thy beauty Goddess is the only good,  
Thy beauty makes mine eyes to stream a flood,  
Thy beauty breaks my wonted pleasant sleep,  
Thy beauty causeth Corulus to weep:  
For other joys they now but shadows be,  
No joy but sweet Corinnas' love for me.  
Whereon I now beseech thee, by that white  
Which stains the lily, and affects my sight,  
By those fair locks whereas the grace's rest,  
By those sweet eyes whereas all pleasure's nest:  
Do yield me love, or leave me for to die.  
Corinna studious for to yield reply,  
With many tears bedewed the shepherds face,  
And thus at last she spoke: O happy place.  
The which the Gods appointed for my good.  
What blessed Nymph within this sacred wood  
Hath pleaded poor Corinias' lawful cause▪  
Or be they dreams that now my fancy draws?  
O Corulus ne reads● thou sue to me,  
Nor spend the tears for to accepted be,  
Since long o'er this I would have bend to bow,  
If modest fear could well have taught me how.  
In happy bonds of Hymen I am thine:  
Ne plead thou grace to her that doth incline.  
Thus with a kiss she sealed up the deed:  
When as the shepherd glad of happy speed  
Embracing her he had desired long,  
'Gan call for grace to her he so did wrong.  
Confirmed thus with mutual glad consent,  
They finished up the marriage that they meant.  
Great was the day, and every field compéere  
Delighted in the pleasure of his dear.  
Poor I alone in sad lamenting lays,  
Deprived of the pleasure of my days,  
In careful tunes in brief concluding thus:  
O happy times and planets gracious.  
When in a mirror beauty did behold  
The hidden woes, my muse could well unfolds  
And with a liking look shape some reply.  
But woe is me, since father's cruelty  
In changed forms hath altered terms of suit,  
And altering place hath made my Goddess mut●.  
Who honouring Pan, may hap the person see,  
Whom habit strange persuades it should be me.  
THis delectable Eclogue finished by the amorous Forbonius gave occasions to Prisceria to satisfy the thoughts that then troubled her fantasy. For confounded in herself, not knowing what to conclude of that she shepherd Arualio had reported, yet well-nigh persuades that the reporter was he she liked off, with a seemly grace, not minding to incur the lightest suspicion, turning toward Forbonius, whose hand was on his half-pe●ie, she say thus.  
Gentle shepherd, that Nymph thou lovest should alter from womanhood, that considering thy true zeal, & exquisite proportions, would not requite thy loyalty, with the benefit of her love. Truly Madam (answered the imagined Arualio, and I think myself gracious in this, that for her whom I love I am enjoined this torment, whereupon turning himself a side, and drying up the tears which should bewray his fancy, he was at last known by Priscoria, who altogether amazed at the presence of Forbonius, forgerting well-nigh the infortunacie she was entangled in, cast her arms about his neck, yet colouring with a seemly disdain to shadow her opinion, and blindfold subtle ●otto, she said thus. Truly shepherd, if I may prevail with thy mistress, thou shalt not be unrewarded for this courtesy: & Madam (said Forbonius) might I counsel your Ladyship, you should not sorrow for that may be compassed at your pleasure.  
This said, Sotto taking Arualio by the hand, took his leave of his young Mistress thus: My young Lady, I as studious of your pleasure as may 〈◊〉 have brought you this young shepherd to laugh at, & if his music like you, you shall have every day at the least a lay or two. And héerin shalt thou do me no small pleasure said Prisceria? & so with a seemly regard shaping a loath departure, the two shepherds resorted to their flocks, Arualio altogether amazed at his mistress beauty, and Sotto very jocund he had fitted his young Lady's fancy so well: whereupon the old shepherd, turning to our solitary & distressed Arualio, said thus, What makes thee thus sollom my youthly compéere? cease to grieve thy self about those things that may be compassed, if thou love, time shall eat out that which Treacle cannot, and thou shalt either be fortunate in possessing her thou desirest, or in overpassing thy passions with good government, leave love to those that like her. Arualio not to seek of courteous humanity, gave him this answer. O Sotto, it is not the love that grieveth me, but the means to compass love: I labour not to attain love, but to possess the profits of my long service in love: as for time, it may work wonders in them that are repulsed: but when Cupid is gracious, and occasions unfortunate, think you that this is not a bitter sour? Yea, but answered Sotto, & if it be so Arualio pluck up thy sprights, and doubt thou not, but if thou prove diligent in pleasing my young mistress, I mean not to be idle, if I may know whom thou likest of. As for that doubt not, said our disguised Forbonius, for since I know by thy only means my love is to be compassed, I will not stick in so slight a pleasure to profit, when as by thy means I may only secure myself. In such like terms passing over their wearisome walk: At last they betook themselves each of them to the folding of their sheep, for it was welnie night, and the Sun was steeped in the Ocean: whereupon Arualio the shepherd, becoming now Forbonius indeed, hasted him home unto his tenants house, making him both privy of his happy ●ortune, and concluding with himself how to perform that he wished for, and for that long travail requireth some quiet, he betook himself to rest: where recompensing all his nights wake, with a quiet sleep: At dawn of day he returned in his counterfeit habit unto the field, and unfolding his flock, he drove them into those pastures, that were adjoining to Sottos walk: who no sooner spied Arualio, but saluting him very courteously, he earnestly entreated him, (setting all excuses apart) to go to Farnusium, and in the best sort that he might to solace the unfortunate Prisceria▪ who only waiting that occasion, commending his flock to the overflight of the old man, & accompanied with Saracca the daughter of old Sotto, he was presented to his desired, within the castle, who by the absence of Sotto, finding all occasions to serve her turn, having sent silly Sarraca about some sleeveless arrant, she taking the occasion proffered, said thus to Forbonius: Blest be that sweet conceit of thine (O my friend) which to the unfortunate rigour of my father, hath adapted so convenient an end. Now mayst thou with as great pleasures enjoy thy desired, as with deep perplexities thou hast sorrowed in her absence. Now neither distance can sever us from embracing, nor the watchful eye of my feather, intercept thee of thy wish. See here thy Prisceria, who though the Fates work never so contrary, will live to Forbonius, and only love Forbonius.  
This said, with many kisses com●orting him which was almost overcome with pleasant imaginations, she was returned this answer by her most assured favourer.  
O Prisceria, if overpressed with many suspicious thoughts, if made partaker of the infernal tortures in Phlegeton, if subject to the punishment of the Daughters of Danaus, or affixed to the torture 〈◊〉 martereth Titius, I should be confirmed by this only benefit in opinion, and made constant in all misfortunes, yea, even to overcome the insupportable travails of the sisters, and be enabled with constancy to subdue all torments what so ever, by remembrance only of one gracious regard. It is neither thy father's rancour sweet Prisceria, nor distance of place, nor any one occasion what soever, can either sequester me of my hope, nor thee of the possession of thy wished: cast off therefore all doubt of after dole, & assure yourself, that as this pleasure hath his original this present instant, so by my means ere long it shallbe continued for everlasting mamory. Passing the time in such like pleasures, and ministering a remedy unto each others torments, I cannot tell, whether by the iniquity of destiny, or otherwise: Soldwius learning out Forbonius departure, and suspicious of his forward attempts, at that very instant arrived at Farnusium, when the two amorous couple, little doubting his sudden approach, were coasted with this sour, in midst of all their sweet, that the enemy of their pleasures even then entered the Castle, when as it seemed the fates had prefixed them that conveniency & opportunity to allay their long sorrowing. The brute of whose advent brought to the ears of Prisceria, Lord how she was confounded in herself, how dismayed was Forbonius at that instant, how at the very time were they both astonished, when most circumspection should be had: so that scarce they had ●en dried up their tears, when as Soldwius entering the chamber, quickly discovered the whole counterfeit (for jealous eyes inflamed with rancour pretermit nothing) whereupon the old man at first, nothing at all deluded by the strange habit, spying out their proceedings, laying violent hands on Forbonius caused him forcibly to be conveyed to the strong ●●ower in the Castle, and turning himself to Prisceria, he began thus.  
O thou wicked and ungracious maid, degenerating from the Nobility of thy ancestors, and led by unseemly affections, not directed by the likings of thy tender parents, in what terms should I accuse thee? or bewray my sorrows? Woe is me, that am enforced to be an eye witness of mine own sorrow, & to behold the with mine eyes, that I hate in my heart: Is this the reward of breeding children? Is this the benefit that is reaped by issue? Are these the pleasures that befall Parents? O Soldwius, happy hadst thou been, if either Prisceria had been unborn, or thou unmarried, by the one thou shouldest have escaped this present misery, by the other prevented the untoward sorrow that now confoundeth thee. Is thy love to be fixed there where I hate? or shouldest thou be amorous of him who is odious to thy Father? O vile wretch borne among the Hirean Tigers, which respecting not thy Father's felicity, overburthenest his old years with unlooked for calamity: but if ever just Gods pitied a lawful complaint, I doubt not but they that minister justice to all men, will wreak the injuries thou hast done to me.  
Thus said, he sat down altogether confounded with melancholy. When as Prisceria finding occasion to speak for herself, began thus.  
Who seeketh O father, to prevent the destinies, laboureth in vain, and who endeavoureth to alter nature, as he striveth against the stream, so must he perish in his own overweening: the Gods have concluded our love, and will you being a creature seek to infringe it? Alas my father, why should my pleasure be your discomfort? or that by which I live, prove that which most you hate? Do not you herein break nature? who lay violent hands on your own flesh, and seek to alter that by rigour, that was ordained by divine instinct? O let your rancour overslip (my good father) and 〈◊〉 humble suit prevailed with an honourable mind, cease to hate him whom I love: and couple us both together, whom the Gods having joined in an assured league of friendship, it cannot be but injustice to alter their proceed.  
Soldu●tius not able to digest the fury of his passion, nor willing to weigh of the submissive request of his daughter, interrupted her thus: And is it not sufficient or thee (vain wench as thou art) to pass the limits of nature? but to continue thy error too? Thinkest thou to compass me with tears, who without sighs cannot call to memory thy escape? no Prisceria, both thou shalt see, and that varlet shall know, that my displeasure will not be finished but with blood, nor my anger satisfied, till I have confounded him, who hath discomforted me. Whereupon flinging on't of the chamber in a great rage, and fastening both bolts and locks he with his frame resorted to the imprisonned poor shepherd, his capital enemy Forbonius, whom after he had taunted with these unjust terms, he proceeded further to this unjust revenge: Thou cursed and abominable caitiff, is it not sufficient by the injuries of thy Father Clunamos, to move my patience, but that thou in person must violate my daughter? Thinkest thou that the Gods detest not these injuries? when as with wicked attempts thou be witchest the daughter, and massacrest the Father? nay neither in justice will they pretermit the offence, nor will nature suffer me to bear with thine error: prepare thyself therefore to make him recompense with thy blood, whom thou hast troubled with thy attempt.  
Forbonius confounded with sorrow, and amazed at this austere judgement, yet remembering the nobility that was always accounted in him, answered him thus.  
Although enraged rancour hath made thee pass the limits o● honour. (O Soldwius) yet pass not so far in thy resolutions, as to stain the dignity of thy person, with the martyrdom of a guiltless Gentleman. If I did hate thy daughter, that little envy that grew by my Father's displeasure, might by reason grow to deep and rooted malice, but when I love Prisceria, why should I be contemned of Soldwius? It should seem that love was not accounted loathsome among the gods, when as prefixing a punishment to all escapes, they prescribe an honour to this: chief concluding it to be a virtue: whereupon thou must conclude, that either thou contemnest the decrees of the Gods, or measurest all things by thine own malice. Thou threatenest me with death (vain man) and I weigh not the dissolution of my body: for this I assure thee, as long as I may live, I will honour Prisceria, and being dead, my ghost shall persecute thee with revenge, and prosecute my affections toward my best beloved. So Prisceria live, Forbonius careth not to die, the only memory of whom shall make me constant in misfortunes, and willing to withstand the brunt of thy cruelty: whereupon my conclusion is, that if Soldwius for faithful assurance will become a friendly allower of Forbonius, he which by reason of the malice of his Father had once cause to hate him, will now honour him, and that strife which separated two so noble families, shall now be finished in our happy marriage: if this like not, proceed as thou pleasest. In granting me favour, thou shalt find honour, in bereaving me of life, thou shalt finish all my misfortunes.  
The discourse of Forbonius thus ended, Soldwius began thus, after that he had somewhat digested his choler: Although Forbonius the injuries thou hast offered me, together with former displeasures, be sufficient to continue my resolution, yet weighing with myself that it is vain to alter that which is prefixed by destiny, won by reason which directeth all men, and by the tender love I bear my Daughter, which should prevail with a Father: I yield thee thy love to enjoy in chaste wedlock, and wheres thou lookedst I should be thy tormentor, lo I am now contented to be thy unlooked for Father. Whereupon taking Forbonius by the hand, and conveying him to Priscerias' chamber, he confirmed the Gentleman in his former purpose, and his daughter of his assured savour, using these kind of his intention: My daughter, that father that even now heinously misliked of thy lover, now glorieth in thy liking, & he which whilom hated Forbonius, now vouchsafeth him his son in law: whereupon comfort yourselves with mutual solace, & to morrow we will to the City to finish up the ceremonies. The two lovers compassed with incredible pleasures, & not able to suppress the affections that possessed them, but by breaking out into speech: they both humbled themselves to aged Soldwius, returning him by the mouth of Forbonius these thanks. O noble gentleman, it may not be expressed by tongue, what I imagine in heart, who by your means, of the most unfortunatest man that liveth, am become the only happy man of the world: notwithstanding this in lieu of all favour I will return you, that both by that means all private quarrels shall cease between our two families, and you registered in our Egyptian Records, for the only peacemaker of Memphis. In these I sweet speeches over passing the day & night, the next morrow the whole train po●●ed to Memphis, whereas by the high Priest of the Sun they were solemnly espoused, and after many sorrows were recompensed with nuptial pleasure. Now Ladies and Gentlewomen, I must leave this to your consideration, whether the lovers for their constancy are more to be commended, or the old man for his patience more to be wondered at: I leave you to fit that conclusion, till you have read what is written, promising you that if my rude discourse have wrought you any pleasure, I will both labour, here after to serve all occasions, and so fixo my studies as they shall not far differ from your fantasies: and thus craving you to wind at an error, and commend as the cause requireth, I take my leave: willing to be made privy if I have any ways travailed to your contentment.  
FINIS.   

TRUTH'S COMplaint over England.  

MY mournful Muse Melpomene draw near,  
Thou saddest Lady of the sisters three,  
And let her plaints in paper now appear:  
Whose tears like Ocean billows seem to be:  
And should I note the plaintiffs name to thee?  
Men call her Truth, once had in great request,  
But banished now of late for craft's behest.   

Amidst the rest that set their pen to book,  
She picked me out to tell this woeful tale,  
A simple Poet, on whose works to look,  
The finest heads would think it very stolen:  
Yet though unworthy, to my friends avail  
I take the toil, and pray my Muse's aid:  
To blazon out the tale of Truth dismayed.   

Such time as Phoebus from the coloured sky,  
Did headlong drive his horse's t'ord the West,  
To suffer horned Luna for to pry,  
Amidst the dusky dark, new raised from rest,  
As I in fragrant fields with woes oppressed:  
'Gan walk to drive out melancholy grief,  
Which in my heart at that time had the chief.   

It was my hap fast by a rivers side,  
To hear a rueful voice lamenting thus,  
You ●●lling streams, even as your waves divide:  
So breaks my heart with passions perilous,  
Which feign I would unto the world discuss,  
Were any here for to recount my moan,  
Whose woeful heart for inward grief doth groan.   

Which said, the cast her dewed eyes as kance,  
And spying me, 'gan rouse her héavie head,  
And prayed me pen her sad and heavy chance,  
And she recounted it that present stead,  
I did agree, and granting Truth me fed:  
With these reports which I set down in verse,  
Which grieves my Muse for sorrows to rehearse.   

Whilom (dear friend) it was my chance to dwell,  
Within an Island compassed with the wave,  
A safe defence a foreign foe to quell.  
Once Albion called, next Britain Brutus gave,  
Now England height, a plot of beauty brave,  
Which only soil, should seem the seat be,  
Of Paradise, if it from sin were free.   

Within this place, within this sacred plot,  
I first did frame, my first contented bower,  
There found I peace and plenty for to float,  
There justice ruled, and shined in every stowre,  
There was I loud and sought too every hour,  
Their Prince content with plainness loved Trutli,  
And pride by abstinence was kept from youth.   

Then fl●w not fashions every day from France,  
Then sought not Nobles novels from a far,  
Then land was kept, not hazarded by chance,  
Then quiet mind preserved the soil from jar,  
Cloth kept out cold, the poor relieved were.  
This was the state, this was the lucky stowre,  
While Truth in England kept her stately bower.   

justice did never look with partial eyes,  
Demosthenes was never dumb for gold,  
The Prince's ears were ope to peasants cries,  
And false suspect was charyly kept in hold,  
Religion flourished, livings were not sold  
For lucre then, but given by desert,  
And each received, & preached with zealous heart.   

Then learning was the Loadstone of the land,  
Then husbandman was free from shifts of law,  
Then faithful promise stood in steed of band,  
The Drones from busy be no Mel could draw,  
Then love, not fear, did keep the state in awe:  
〈◊〉 than did flourish that renowned time,  
〈◊〉 earth and ashes thrusted not to climb.   

Foras the horse well manned abides the bit,  
And 〈◊〉 his stop by rain in rider's hand,  
Where mountain call't that was not saddled yet,  
〈◊〉 headlong on amidst the fallowed land,  
Whose fierce resist scarce bends with any band:  
So men reclainide by virtue, tread aright,  
Where led by follies mischiefs on them light.   

Use masters all, use nurtereth mortal ways,  
Use, use of good, continues happy state,  
Use, use of me, made England then have praise,  
But since abuse hath banished me of late.  
Alas the while, there runs another rate,  
Which while by sad insight I look into,  
I see the want of those that have to do.   

And yet I see not Sodom: some are good,  
Whose inward bowels daily melt in moan,  
To see how Britain now is raging wood,  
Hard hearted, flinty minded, all in one,  
Bend to abuse, and leaving me alone.  
Alonely lead with careless show of peace,  
Whereas secure regard doth sin increase.   

Some, some there be whom zeal hath swallowed up,  
First, blessed Prince, of whom I find relief,  
Some noble peers that taste errors cup,  
Some godly Prelates in the Church are chief,  
Same lawyers lead by zeal, lament my grief.  
Some Merchants follow God, not swallow gold,  
Some country Swains love truth you may be bold.   

Yet as great store of darnel mars the seed,  
Which else would spring within a fertile field:  
And as the fruitful bud is choked by weed:  
Which otherwise a gladsome grape would yield,  
So sometimes wicked men do overwéeld,  
And keep in covert those who would direct,  
The common state, which error doth infect.   

Yet Truth must never alter from his name,  
Good Prince said I. ye good: what of herself?  
And that is good, for Princes that do frame.  
Themselves to private good, do subjects good,  
Yet that's not that same goodness I would name:  
Good Prince, good people, that's the good I crave,  
Of Prince's goods, that goodness would I have.   

For as the great commander of the tides,  
God Neptune can allay the 〈…〉,  
And make the billows mount on either sides:  
When wandering kéeles his choler would displease:  
So Princes may star up and some appease,  
The commons heart to do: and to destroy  
That which is god, 〈◊〉 this▪ which threats annoy.   

For common state can never sway amiss  
When Princes lives do level all a right,  
Be it for Prince that England happy is,  
Yet hapless England if the fortune light:  
That with the Prince, the subjects sée●● not right,  
Unhappy state, unlucky times they be,  
When Princes lives and subjects disagree.   

I know not I whence come these wayward woes,  
Whóse sudden shows portend this sudden change,  
Yet doth mis doubt such sudden fears disclose,  
As Truth this present doubts the sequel strange:  
When stable head, let's stayless members range,  
I fear me: as the buildings trust to sand,  
So every blast will stroy with turn of hand,   

When as in Court by proud contempt I see,  
A fashion feeds the fancies now a days,  
When as in Court promotions passed be  
By self opinion: oft the wise man says,  
The turns are strange, and favour soon decays:  
And those whom fortune windeth now a float,  
By change of favour, soon may change their coat.   

When as election doth but pass by sense,  
Then must I deem the world is fed by shows:  
When garish beauty causeth vain expense,  
It 〈◊〉 the man should see, but little knows,  
Repentance is the fruit by loving grows:  
So when in Court nought but such pleasures be,  
Repentance must ensue we well may see.   

But leaving Court, where though the bramble grows,  
Yet zealous care there scents herself I see,  
I do in Court but now complain of those,  
Who practise that that sits not their degree:  
Whose veins by power full oft corrected be:  
But now such colours cloak each bad pretence,  
That shows do hold the wise in some suspense.   

But I poor I though grieved at courtlike 'scapes,  
Lamenting there the lavish vain expense,  
Have farther cause abroad to note escapes,  
Where craft doth keep true meaning in suspense:  
And wily worldlings cover their pretence:  
With holy shapes, and in a holy coat,  
Doth flattery praise those men that swim a float:   

In Nobles trains, who sees not strange mis déemes,  
Where each doth gape and catch at private gain,  
And fleece the Lord, who though he blindfold seems,  
By oft attempts doth bar them of their veins,  
The painful wretch who toils with often pains,  
He hath fair words, when flattery sucks the sweet.  
Thus shows take place, and Troth's trod under feet.   

In England gists can compass each reproof,  
The bad for gold may soon be counted good,  
The wicked gainer for the state's behoof,  
The blindest buzzard to give heavenly food,  
The faintest heart in warlikst place hath stood:  
And who gives most, hath now most store of farms,  
Racked rents, the Lord with golden fuel warms.   

And justice so I fear by power is led,  
The poor may cry, and gladly creep to cross,  
The rich with wealth, the wealthy now are fed,  
The simple man now only be●●●s the loss,  
The Lawyer he the golden crowns doth toss,  
And now hath fees at will with cap and knee,  
And each man cries, good sir come plead for me.   

O sweet the time, when neither folly might  
Misled your hopes, nor alter old decrees.  
O happy Truth when as with sweet delight,  
She laboured still for conscience not for fees.  
O blessed time, when zeal with bended knees,  
'Gan bless the heavens, that bent their powers divine,  
The English hearts to wisdom to incline.   

But now refused, disdained, and set at nought,  
Enforced to seek for rest in place unknown,  
I wail poor wretch, that no redress is sought:  
But well I wots, my griefs are not mine own,  
Some bear a part and help to wait my moan,  
But all in vain: such colours now are made,  
That those would mend the miss, do dance in shade.   

This said, be wetting all the place with tears,  
And from her eyes expelling floods of moan,  
Her lovely locks bespread about her ears,  
She waude her wings as willing to be gone:  
And after pause, she soared away anon,  
And thus she said: You Islanders adieu,  
You banished me, before I fled from you.  
Envoy. Believe me Countrymen this thing is true.   
FINIS.