HOBSON'S Horseload of Letters: OR A PRECEDENT FOR EPISTLES.  
The First BOOK.  
Being a most exact Method for men, of what quality soever, how to indight, according to the form of these times, whether it be for serious Negotiations, private Businesses, amorous accomplyment, wanton merriment, or the defence of Honour and reputation.  
A work different from all former publications, and not unworthy the eyes of the most noblest spirits.  Bra●● assai, poco spero, nulla chi●ggio. 
LONDON: Printed for Richard Hawkins, and are to sold at his shop in Chancery-lane, near Sergeants' Inn. 1613.   

TO THE Honourable and virtuous Knight, Sir Thomas Bromley.  
SYR: If I have a (heart which is the vessel of love) it must undoubtedly be either full of you, or empty of all goodness: You taught me once how to go, by your strength, and gave me so sufficient a support from your favour, that I might very well neglect those threatening gusts which spoke any loss unto me. This, when my memory forsakes it must forsake the world, for whilst it is, it is but a Cabinet to keep your virtues in me: And hence it comes I am bold to present unto you this oblation of my Pen, which when you have read, if you please to burn, they shall draw nearer to the nature of a Sacrifice: for I do not present them to you as Precedents (your own slightest conceits ●lye millions of degrees beyond them) but as messengers, to tell you that the Author, wheresoever he lives, doth dearly love you. There be some of them that concern Honour and honourable passages, betwixt noble adversaries: I know you will embrace and allow them, and though yourself in your particular have done much better, yet he that shall walk in the path I have limited, shall without doubt not err in any gentlemanly course of well doing.  
The motives which urged me to this, was the cruelty of those ignorant angry ones that love to vent their rages in foul words, and spend their execution with the coldest action, whereas indeed true virtue should contend for virtue, and like Alexander's dogs, with a noble dispisingnesse, not look on the smaller beasts, but with an overflow of courage, cease upon Lions and Elephants. The matter being then so familiar both to your knowledge and experience, no man can correct me with better authority, or approve me with a judgement which shall better please me. These EP●STLES I present but as imperfect offers of those larger essays and tastes I mean to pursue in another Treatise seconding this: in which I intent (God being pleased) to omit the nature of no Epistle needful, with a discourse of Combats, and the precedents both of our own and other nations, even from the first use of the English Rapier to these times. In all which mine ambition shall be that you will be pleased when you look on the book to remember me, who will ever live to obey you.  
G. M.   

TO THE READER: Of what quality soever.  
Kind Sir: Which dish in this poor feast of Epistles, is for your taste, I know not, for they are as various as men's palates, but which may most undoubtedly give you a surfait is all, Curiosity and my form of writing, having ever been at a perpetual dissension, but since all men's writings have a predestinate end, of good or evil, hanging upon them, I must hazard amongst the multitude, and though the subject I write of hath been handled by many, and many of a great deal more merit, yet I have run so far from the lisping affectation of ill embroidered speech, or from the rude plainness of too much dullness, that when my book shall be paralleled with others, it will speak sufficiently to get itself a free passage, nothing being in it I hope unworthy, nothing that may not very well authorize imitation. Neither do I ascribe to myself the grounds of every invention, for there be many due to such excellencies as no man can control, no man equal: nor is mine intent here to end, for it is but the beginning of a much better work, as my next book shall witness, which with all diligence shall follow this, containing those forms and examples, which never yet have been published in any Epistles, and which I doubt not but shall give to every breast all the satisfaction that can be expected. And so wishing unto you what your heart can wish to itself, I leave my love and my book with you.  
G. M.   

A PRECEDENT FOR EPISTLES.  

I.  
An Epistle exhortatory, which may come from any Honourable Enemy (being a man of eminence) for the pacifying a sedition between their Families of one kindred, or between two Kingdoms.  
COnsidering with Ourselves the present state of things, and weighing more deeply the manner and terms wherein you and we do stand, it maketh me to marvel what evil and fatal chance doth so dissever your hearts, and maketh them so blind and unmindful of your profit, and so still conciliate and heap to yourselves most extream● mischief: And also by all reason and order of necessity it should be rather more convenient for you to seek and require moderate agreements of us, whom God hath hitherto, according to our most just, true and worthy intents prospered, and set forward with your affliction and misery, then that we having the better hand should seek unto you: yet to the intent that my charitable mind● should not cease, by all means possible to provoke and call you to your own benefit, even as the Father to the son, or the elder brother to the younger, and as the loving Physician would do to the mistrustful and ignorant Patient, I am content to call and cry upon you to look to your state, to avoid the great calamities your family is in, to have us rather kinsmen then 〈◊〉, and rather kind alliances from one ●●ocke, then divided strangers full of envy: And if your Ruffin●seruants shall retain and keep from you this mine 〈…〉 they have done many things, in like nature, ●●●●ing to the like effect, for their own private wealth and commodity, not regarding though you be still in misery, and shall abuse you with feigned and forged tales, yet this shall be a witness before God and all Christian people, betwixt you and us, that we professing the Gospel of jesus Christ, according to the doctrine thereof, do not cease to call and provoke you from the effusion of your own blood, from the destruction of your family, from perpetual enmity and hatred, and from the small ruin of your long settled prosperity, to liberty, amity, and to equality with us.  
Besides, who can possibly take into his consideration our nearness in affinity, having one self name and self breeding, but will think it a thing very unmeet, unnatural, and unchristian, that there should be betwixt us such mortal hatred, who in respect of other houses, should be like two brethren of one w●mb●? If you call it Providence or Chance, to be still affl●icted and punished, may not the highest say, I of mine infinite mercy and love to your house, had provided you many pacifications, but you refused them, you loved better dissuention than unity, discord then agreement, quarrel then peace, hatred then love and charity ● if you do then therefore smart for it, whom can you blame but your ●●●ne election?  
But because of some of you, may say that we seek not equality, but dominion, not to be friends but Lords, although our protestations have done enough to declare the 〈…〉 I protest, and declare unto you, and all Christian people, that it is not our will to subdue, but to have 〈◊〉, not to 〈◊〉 by force, but to conciliate by love, not to 〈◊〉 and kill, but to save and keep, not to dissever and divorce, but to knit and conjoin from the greatest to the least both the families, and to make of two houses one, in love, amity, concord, peace and charity, which if you refuse, and drive us to sedition, who is guilty of the bloodshed? who is the 〈◊〉 of disturbance? who maketh the brawls and 〈◊〉 which shall follow? and what end can you look for in these proceedings but such succe●●● as heretofore hath been experimented and assayed? We offer love, we offer equality, we are victor● yet offer peace, wé win and yet would give away our conquest: what can be more offered than intercourse o● love, and commerce of societies▪ the abolishing of all grudges, and the memory of all repetitions which might be impediments to a mutual amity? We have offered, not 〈◊〉 to leave, the authority, name, title, right or challenge of the elder house, but to receive, if possible, a degree inferior unto you.  
But peradventure your hope is in the aid of some stranger friends or neighbours: but I tell you, whosoever shall help you to nourish discord, even they will be your oppressors, filling your houses, wasting your goods, spending and consuming your victuals, holding you in subjection by your beholdingness, and in the end regard you but as their slaves, which without them could not live. O remember what it is to have a ●orraine power within you, and a strong enemy upon you: you as it were the camp and plain betwixt them to fight on, and to be trodden on by both parties. If you look but into the state of kingdoms, you shall see how dangerous it is to draw in strangers: Did not 〈◊〉 Britain's call in the Saxons for help●, and by them were put out? Did not France expel the Gauls, the Turk win▪ Grecia, and now all Hungary, only under the colour of aid? and did not the Goths by like means get all Italy, and the Lumbards' one part thereof now called Lombary? What look you for mor●, but when strangers know you cannot live without 〈…〉 they commanded you to do? what will they not 〈◊〉 upon you? what will they not 〈…〉 and what will they not think they 〈…〉 and what will they think that you 〈◊〉 do? 〈…〉 help is your confusion: 〈…〉 so g●t is 〈…〉 is to be thought 〈…〉 and acquit all 〈…〉 and so end all ●span? There 〈…〉; and 〈…〉 you will not have peace, you will not have 〈◊〉, you will not have concord▪ so that uncindenesse cometh upon you whether you 〈…〉, I fear it will appear that it were better for you to be vn●●●●● by us, 〈…〉 by strangers, less loss to your good●, 〈…〉 to your 〈◊〉, and less dishonour to your reputations' 〈◊〉 neither your governors, 〈…〉 have wronged you in their 〈…〉 to prorogue all good times) 〈◊〉 you with 〈◊〉 words, and bring you into the snare, from whence they cannot deliver you.  
Again, i● we and our houses being made one by amity, be most able to 〈◊〉 us against all oppositions, having our for a wall, our natural love for a garrison, and God for defence, should 〈◊〉 so noble and well agreeing a posterity, that neither in peace we may be ashamed, nor in 〈◊〉 afraid of any worldly power, why should not 〈…〉 of the same, and have as 〈…〉? If 〈◊〉 honour of ●o good 〈…〉 do not move you so sake and accept our 〈…〉 and 〈…〉 the forenamed losses 〈◊〉 you 〈…〉 that 〈◊〉 which shall displease God▪ 〈…〉 in danger, 〈◊〉 your reputations, undo your issue, wast your commodities, and lastly, bring to your seats a general desolation. We require but your loves, and agreement in unity, which God of his infinite clemency and tender love which he hath declared to bear to both our families, hath offered unto us both, and in manner called us both unto it● whose calling and provocation we have and will follow to the best of our powers, and in his name, and with his aid, admonition, exhortation, requests and messengers, not being able to do it, and to find stableness in promises, we shall not wittingly but constrained pursue your rancours, and chastise your wickedness, by the angry Angels of God, our swords and mallices, whereof I require and exhort you all, who have love to your name; pity to your houses, true hearts to your heirs, regard of your honours, and any 〈◊〉 unto peace, love, unity, and concord, to come and embrace us and declare your true and Godly hearts thereunto: in which encounter you shall find so much love sorted with the best virtue, that doubtless we shall ever hereafter live one another's admirers. Thus leaving this to the best of your worthiest considerations, I bid you farewell.  
A. S.   

II.  
An Epistle which may come from any King, or Council of State, for the calling in of any supreme Officer, to answer to wrongs which he hath offered.  
H. By the grace of God, King of D. to our well-beloved cozen, C. Earl of E. greeting: So it is that di●●rs Bishops and Pr●●●●es, Barons, Knights, Universities, Commonalties and College 〈…〉 and about the pr●ci●●●● 〈…〉 of your command, and the dwellers, and 〈◊〉 of other more remote places, besides other of 〈◊〉 subjects, are resorted and come to our Court, to 〈◊〉 right of certain griefs, and unlawful troubles, which 〈◊〉 by most vnadui●ed counsel, and simple 〈◊〉, have pur tosed to do unto them, whereof 〈◊〉 marvel: Therefore to withstand and redress 〈◊〉, so much enormous to our state, we are so conjoined to them, that we have thought good by our royal power and authority, to command you to repair to our City of R. in proper person, and there to show and pre●●●● your slefe before us in our councel-chamber, that you may be constrained to do right to our people, concerning the griefs, which they allege, that you are about to oppress them with, who claimeth to have their resort into our court, as the only place for redress of their injuries, and that you fail not ●hus to do, in as speedy manner as you can immediately upon the receipt and sight of these our present Letters, for true testimony whereof we have to the same fixed our royal Signet. Given at R. the seaventéenth day of A.  
H.   

III.  
A Counsell-giving Epistle, sent from a man of wisdom, to a man of great authority, who upon some dislike went about▪ not only to give over the world but all manner of promotions therein.  
IF as well it had pleased you, at your departure, as now, to have used mine humble service, ●oth I should in better season and to better 〈◊〉 have spoken, and you (if my speech not prevailed) should have been at this time as no way 〈◊〉 in danger, so much more in quietness: I would 〈◊〉 said that wisdom, and virtue be the only destinies appointed to man to follow, whence we ought to seek all our knowledge, since they be such guide as cannot fail, which besides their in ward comfort, do● lead so direct away of proceeding as either must ensue, or if the wickedness of the world should oppress it, it can never be said that evil happeneth to him, who falls accompanied with virtue: But since it is weakness too much to remember what should have been done, and that your commandment stretcheth to know what is to be done, I do (most dear Sir) with humble boldness say, that your determination doth in no sort better please me then your actions. Many years you have lived, so that neither alie●, nor homebred, could accuse you for the least blemish in your virtue; and those which have envied you, have found you so ●urtlesly strong, that they thought it better to rest in your friendship, then make new trial of your enmity. If this than have proceeded out of the good constitution of your state, and out of a wise providence, generally to prevent all those things which might encumber your happiness, why should you now seek new courses, since your own example comforts you to continue, and that it is to me most certain, that no destiny whatsoever, can bring man's wit to a higher point than wisdom and goodness? Why should you deprive yourself of government, for fear of losing your government, like one that should kill himself for fear of death? nay; rather if this adversity be to be accounted of, arm● up your courage the more against it, for who will stick to him that abandons himself? Let your friends have you in their eyes, let them see the benefits of your virtue daily more and more, and so must they needs rather like of present sureties then incertain changes: Lastly whether your time call you to live or die, do both like a man of goodness. Now for your second resolution, which is the abandoning of your children: What shall I say, if the affection of a father to his own, cannot plead sufficiently against such ●ancies? 〈◊〉 certain it is the God which is the God of nature, doth never teach unnaturalness: certainly in your children nature promiseth nothing but goodness, and there education by your fatherly care, hath been hitherto such as hath been most fit to restrain all 〈◊〉, giving these minds virtuous delights, and not gr●e●●●g them for want of 〈◊〉 ruled liberty: now to fall to sudden fortaking them, what can it do but argue suspicion; a thing no more unpleasant than unsure for the preserving of virtue? But you will leave them to the guard of servants, which (besides that the thing in itself is strong) doth surely come of an evil ground, that ignorance should be the mother of faithfulness, no, he cannot be good that knows not why he is good, but stands so far good as his fortune may keep him unassayd: but coming once to that, his rude simplicity is either easily changed, or easily deceived, and so grows that to be the last excuse of his fault, which seemed to have been the first foundation of his faith. Thus far hath your command meant, and my zeal drawn me, which I like a man in a valley, that may discern hills, or like a poor passenger that may spy a ●●che, so humbly submit to your worthy consideration, beseeching you again to stand wholly upon you hour virtue, as the surest way to maintain you in that you are, and to avoid any evil which may be imagined.  
Faithfully yours S. T.   

FOUR  
A letter, or Potent either from a Council of War, or a Council of State, for the lodging of a b●nd of Soldiers.  
AFter our very hearty 〈…〉 here as we have oppointed the two hundred men under your leading, to lie for a certain time in the town of T. and there to be furnished with lodging, fire, and candlelight, and likewise having taken order that they shall be well, and sufficiently, victualled from the general storehouse: These are therefore to will and command you immediately, upon the sight hereof, to cause the said number to repair thither accordingly, & there to lie until you receive further direction to the contrary▪ whereof you may not fail: and for your doings this shall be your warrant. Given at D. th● 20. of Sep.  
H. W. T. R. W. S.  
Superscribed; To our well-beloved N. D. Captain of 200. foot.   

V.  
A Letter, or Potent either from General, or Council of War, for the raising of a company to march into present service.  
AFter our very hearty commendations: Whereas for especial weighty services, to us best known, we have resolved that you, and the band of foot under your leading, shall without delay be at the town of M. upon wednesday next at night, being the third of this present month: These are therefore straightly to charge and command you, without delay accordingly, at the time aforesaid not to fail to be at the town of M. and there, as likewise during the time of this service, to be at the command of Sir C. S. Knight, Colonel of one thousand foot; whereof fail not at your extreme peril: 〈◊〉 for your so doing this letter shall be your warrant. Given at D. etc.  
H. W. T. R. W. S.  
Superscribed. To our well-beloved friend N. D. Captain of 200▪ foot.   

VI  
A Letter, to countermand, or stay, the former proceedings.  
AFter our very hearty commendations: Understanding that the affairs, and necessities of the forts and defensible places, do not require such hasty and expeditious seconds as our car● was willing to have administered unto them; and for divers other especial good causes, to us best known, we ha●● therefore thought good to defer the journey lately appointed to be made, for a time: Wherefore we require you to take notice thereof, and to forbear removing from your Garrison, until you shall receive further order in that behalf. And yet we charge you, that the band of foot, under your leading, may be in a full readiness against the time that shall be next appointed for the service, formerly intended, and so we bid you farewell: from D, etc.  
Your very loving friends, H. W. T. R. W. S.  
Superscribed; To our well-beloved friend N. D. Captain of 200. foot, at his Garrison in T.   

VII.  
A Letter from the General of an army, to the Muster-ma●●er-Generall, for the entering of a Captain and his whole B●nd into pay.  
E. Whereas we have made choice of our well-beloved N. D. Esquire, to command a Company of 200. foot, with Officers, and ●ntertainements belonging to the same. These are therefore to give you notice thereof, and withal, to will and require you to make entry of the said Captain N D. in his majesties Checque-roles of the Musters, as Captain of 200. foot, together with the allowance for himself of viii. shil. star. per diem: for his Lieutenant of iiij. shil. star. per diem, one ensign at ij. shil. star. per diem: three sergeant, two Drums, a Fhy●●, and a Surgeon, at xviij. d. star. per diem, a piece, and 200. Soldiers at viii. d. star. per diem, a piece: the said several pays and entertainments to begin the first of March, 1613. and to continue during pleasure: And further, to make forth warrants of full pay unto his majesties Treasurer of the wars, for payment hereof accordingly, and this shall be your sufficient discharge in that behalf: from the Castle of D. etc.  
 
Superscribed To our well-beloved Sir R. I. Knight, Muster-master general, and Clerk of the Checque.   

VIII.  
A Letter from a Counsel of State, to the justices of any County, for preferring a Gentleman either to the Muster-mastership, or any other Office in their election.  
AFter our very hearty commendations; Whereas you are to have an especial care to the training of your selected Bands, and to the election of a Muster-master, sufficient for the discharge of the same place: Now, understanding that such a place is void in your County, we thought good to recommend unto you this Gentleman W P. who having of long time commanded in many of his Majesty services, is, no doubt, every way sufficient for the same place, and the rather, in that he is no stranger nor alien amongst you, but a Gentleman of quality borne, brought up, and dwelling in your Country: wherefore, hoping you will not fail herein, we bid you farewell: from the Court at S. etc.  
Your very loving friends, H W. T R. W S. N G.  
Superscribed, To our very loving friends, his majesties justices of the Peace within his County of R.   

IX.  
A Letter of consent from a man of the most eminent place in his Country, for confirming the former petitioner in the place aforesaid.  
AFter my hearty commendations: whereas the bearer hereof Master W. P. having been of late a suitor unto you, for the Offic● of Muster-master, within the County of R. and is already assured of some of your consents, is now desirous that I amongst the rest, should pass my liking and allowance of him: these are to signify unto you, that I hold him a Gentleman of so good a courage, temper and experience, so likely to do service to his Country, and honour to the place, that as I think none more fit for it then he is, so wish I none but he may be admitted so it, and so I bid you heartily farewell: from, etc.  
Your very loving friend, C. O.  
Superscribed, To the right Worshipful, Sir I B. Knight, Sir L M. Knight, and the rest my very good friends, the Commissioners for his majesties Musters, within the County of R.    

Chartels and Challenges, with their Answers.  

X.  
An honourable Cartel or Challenge, which may be sent from any Noble person, coming into a strange Country, only to see the wars, having no Spur but his own reputation.  
A Of England. to B. of France, sendeth the greeting of a hateless enemy: The liking of martyall matters without any mislike of your person, hath brought me rather to the company then to the mind of your besiegers, where, languishing in idleness, I desire to refresh my mi●● with some exercise of arms, which might make known the doers, with delight of the beholders: therefore, if there be any Gentleman in your Town, that either for the love of honour, or honour of his love, well armed on horseback, will with Lance and Sword win another or lose himself, to be a prisoner at discretion of the Conqueror, I will to morrow morning by sun-rising with a Trumpet and a squire only, attend him in like order furnished: the place I think fittest, is before the walls, so that the Ladies may have the pleasure of seeing the Combat; which, though it be within the commandment of your Town, I desire no better security than the promise I make to myself of your virtue. I attend your answers, and wish you such success 〈◊〉 may be to your honour, rather in yielding to that which is just, then in maintaining wrong by violence.  
A   

XI.  
An answer to the former Char●●ll.  
B. Of France▪ to A. of England, wisheth all his own● wishes saving those which may be hurtful to another: the matter of your Letter so fit for a worthy mind, and the manner so suitable to the nobleness of the matter, give me cause to think how happy I might account myself if I could g●t such a friend, who esteem it no small happiness to have met with so noble an enemy: your challenge shall be answered, and both time and place, and weapon accepted. For your security from my treachery (having no hostage worthy to countervail you) take my word, which I esteem above all respects: prepare therefore your arms to fight, but not your heart to malice, since true valour needs no other whetstone then desire of honour.  
B.   

XII.  
Another honourable Cartel of the same nature, and for the same purpose.  
RIght famous Sir, if my persuasion in reason, or prayer in good will, might prevail with you, you should by better means be like to obtain your desire, you should make many brave enemies become your faithful servants, and make your honour fly up to heaven, being carried up by both the wings of valour and justice, whereof now it wants the latter. But since my s●i●e nor counsail● can get place in you, disdain not to receive a mortal challenge from a man so far inferior unto you in virtue, as that I do not so much mislike the deed as I have the doer in admiration: prepare therefore yourself, according to the noble manner of a Soldier, and think not lightly of never so weak an arm, which strikes with 〈◊〉 sword of Iustic●.  
D.   

XIII.  
An answer to this Cartel.  
MUch more famous D. I whom never threatenings could make afraid, am now terrified by your noble courtesy; for well I know from what height of virtue it doth proceed, and what cause I have to doubt such virtue, bend to my ruin: but right, which justifieth the injustice you lay unto me, doth also animate me against all danger, since I am full of him by whom yourself desires ever to be governed: I will therefore attend you before the walls, carrying this advantage with me that as it shall be a singular honour if I get the victory, so there can be no dishonour in being overcome by D.   

XIIII.  
Another Cartel of the same nature, and to the same purpose, only proceeding from an angry enemy unknown.  
TO thee H. of England, an unknown Knight wisheth health and courage, that by my hand thou mayst receive punishment for thy treason, according to thine own offer, which wickedly occasioned, thou hast proudly begun, and accursedly maintained; I will presently (if thy mind faint thee not for his own guiltiness) meet thee before the walls, or if the time, place and weapon like thee not, I am ready to take thine own reasonable choice in any of them, so as thou do perform the substance. Make me such answer, as may show that thou hast some taste of honour: and so I leave thee to live till I meet thee.  
Anonymous.   

XV.  
An answer to this Cartel.  
Unknown Knight, though your nameless challenge might carry in itself excu●e for ● man of my birth and estate, yet her 〈…〉 your heart at rest, you shall be satisfied, I will without stay answer you before the walls, and come both armed in your foolish threatenings, and yet the more fearless, expecting weak blows, where I find so strong words: you shall not therefore long attend me, before proof teach you that of my life you have made yourself too large a promise: in the mean time farewell.  
E.   

XVI.  
The form of a Cartel or Challenge which may be sent from one King unto another, wherein the ground, and occasion of the quarrel, is mentioned, for the avoiding of exceptions and delays.  
WE H. by the Grace of God King of B. to you C. by the same grace King of S. We do you to understand, that in all the answers that you have made to our Ambassadors and Heralds sent to your for the establishing of peace, in excusing yourself without reason: you have accused us, saying, that we have plight you our faith, and broken the ●ame. In defence of our Honour which hereby might be 〈◊〉 too much, against all truth, we through good to send you this writing by which we give you to understand, that for the satisfying of all men, and our said Honour, which we mind to keep, if it please God, unto the death: that if you have charged, or will charge us not only with our faith, but the breach thereof, or that ever we did any thing that became not a Gentleman who had respect to his Honour, that you ●ie falsely in your threat, and as oft as you say it you do lie: and we do determine to defend our Honour to the uttermost drop of our blood; Wherefore, seeing you have charged us against all truth, write no more to us hereafter, but appoint us the field, and we will bring you the weapons, protesting, that if after this declaration you write into any place or use any words against our Honour, that the shame of the delay of the combat shall light on you, seeing that the offering of cambate is the end of writing:  
Dated at our Town and City of P. the twentieth day of March, Anno Dom. 1613 H.   

XVII.  
A rough Cartel sent from a Commander in the wars, to a man of like place, having done public injury to his Superior.  
SIR,  
IF either your birth or bringing up had wrought in your noble mind, or estimation of credit, hardly would you have so much forgotten and stained your Honour, as in a parley of late with our General you did, at whom vildly and dishonourably shooting, you falsed that assurance of war which Soldiers submit themselves unto, and trained him to your treason under trust: a thing heretofore not accustomed, nor presently to be allowed of: he assuredly pretending your own and your friends good, commodity to your Country, and quietness to the state. But your pride joined with a harmful meaning to those which you profess best unto, and self wilful vain glory without cause why; refused that which reason and Honour commanded you to have done: Therefore because his calling is presently with his charge better than yours, and mine not inferior, I summon you reasonably to excuse that fault supposed to be yours, or else maintain that traitorous act with your person against mine in fight, when, where, and how you dare, otherwise I will baffle your good name, sound with the Trumpet your dishonour, paint your picture with the heels upward, and beat it in despite of yourself, in the mean time I attend your answer: from the Campe.  
G. G.   

XVIII.  
A Cartel or challenge from an inferior, having received gross wrongs from a Superior.  
SYR:  
THe greatness of your birth and place, is no privilege to do injury to any that is frée-borne, & the wrongs you have done me are unabideable: the satisfaction whereof, your own generous nature, I know, will both acknowledge and proportion: wherefore, appoint time, place and weapon, without advantage, and you shall find me ready to maintain the assertion of your evil doing. This if your greatness (which is nothing if it be not accompanied with goodness) shall make you either neglect or delay, you will force me to publish that (which yet I am not apt to believe) you are not virtuous.  
T. H.   

XIX.  
A general Challenge, which may pass between any Gentlemen, the quarrel being foul and not doubtful.  
SYR:  
MY wrongs 〈◊〉 in the world's general knowledge, and 〈◊〉 from you assignment of time, place and arms, 〈…〉 your virtue can instruct you in the proporti●ns, the manner I refer to this Gentleman my second.  
T. Q.   

XX.  
A Cartel or Challenge-conditionall, having reference to some doubt.  
SYR:  
IT is a general report in the Worlds-mouth, that you are both the author and reporter of these words; first, That I have dishonourably broken my faith in the wars, by abandoning my Colours in the time of best action, and lastly, laid imputations on my Captain, both without desert or judgement. These speeches if you acknowledge (as virtue will not deny her actions for danger) you must be pleased to understand from this Letter, that you have little affinity with truth, for you have spoken gross falsehoods, which I will ever maintain ● approve in any Gentleman like posture of your own election. Therefore I beseech you let me receive from you such satisfaction as may virtuously agree with an humalicious truth, either in affirmation or denial, and you shall find me prepared honestly for either's entertainment.  
R. P.   

XXI.  
An answer to the former Cartel, giving a sufficient satisfaction to the doubt, and retorting the injury.  
SYR:  
YOu call me to so fair an account that I cannot choose but deliver you an honest reckoning of my virtue: Therefore be pleased to believe, under this protectation, that these speeches wherewith you burden my reputation, did never proceed from me, nor have my lips at any time delivered from them word or matter to that purpose. And albe you make the world your Author, yet I know a Gentleman of your worthiness and judgement will never enter into an opposition of this nature without a ground of greater value and certainty, whence I must for mine own satisfaction, demand of you an author personal, without disparagement, against whom I will justify the contradiction of his slander. This right if any former ceremony shall make you deny me, besides the unlawfulness of such secrecy, you will give me liberty to conjecture, that yourself only is to yourself an evil instrument, and that I have no other accuser but malice.  
R. O.   

XXII.  
A Cartel or Challenge of an unworthy nature, being such as all Gentlemen of virtue should forbear to imitate, though the adversary were never so unworthy.  
Sirrah, the baseness of thy villainous nature, having provoked thee to do me injury, I intend to scourge with my sword, which shall divide a wicked life from a more wicked body: therefore, understand by this schedule, that neither drunkenness (to which thou art naturally addicted▪) nor prenzie (which thy pride hath put upon thee) shall be any excuse for thy most slavish demeanour, but that with my sword I will thrust those lies thou hast delivered down thy throat, and thorough thy heart into thy gets, therefore if thy cowardliness dare adventure upon such a business appoint time, place, and weapon, and I will 〈◊〉 thee, and appr●●● upon thee that thou art a 〈◊〉.  
L. N.   

XXIII.  
An answer as unmannerly as the Challenge was unworthy, both set down, not for imitation, but scorn, though some men of good place in this Kingdom, have used them ignorantly.  
Sirrah, I have received thy base raising Letter, from which feminine humour I gather the cold cowardly grossness of thy spirit, spending itself so much in words, that in action, I fear, it will not dare to encounter with a shadow, the world having ever noted thee for a coward, and all thy companions derided as a braggart of filthy estimation. But in as much as your sauciness is now grown unto the height of impudence, set your heart at rest, for I will put you to the touch of your best strength, and from the bearer hereof, my friend, you shall receive notice both of the time and place, and with your eyes behold the weapons of mine election, which I doubt not but with the expense of thy best blood shall nail the villain fast to thine own bosom: and so farewell, till I come to plague and scourge thee.  
M. Q.   

XXIIII.  
A foolish Challenge, sent from one who neither had wit nor courage, but a foolish provocation.  
Sirrah T. the wrongs thou hast done me are so gross and notorious, that I cannot with my reputation put them up: and although thou deniest when thou gavest me the lie, that thou didst it in disgrace of me, yet upon consideration, I find it must needs be done with a disgraceful mind, though thou didst like a coward deny it. I have learned not to hazard my Knight hood upon mine inferiors, Esquyres of low degree, but if thou make me not some honest satisfaction, thou wilt urge me to forget my place: farewell, I hope thou wilt be wife: yours as you use him.  
A. C.   

XXV.  
An answer from a merry wit, suitable with the former folly.  
K. Ar●a●d, or errand K: As the wrongs you pretend I have done you, were yours by right, so I will do you right and justify them, for I love to give ever the Devil his due: I denied indeed that I meant your disgrace by giving the lie, because I knew if a disgrace without all question to have the lie, and a sta●● ignorance to call it into 〈◊〉, I believe you would be very louth to hazard your, King 〈◊〉, yet you must, if you will 〈◊〉 satisfaction, for what I intent to give is at my meeting with you to morrow morning about sick of the clock in the vale between the 〈◊〉 and River: I have sent you my Rapier parallel both it and my ●er●nds by this Gentleman: farewell.  
R. T.  
Superscribed. To the Honourable Knight, Sir A. C.   

XXVI.  
An answer to a Challenge where the appellants assertion is not doubtful, and so the defendant not tied to the trial of the sword.  
SYR:  
THE trials of the sword are only in case of doubts vndisru●●able, and not tied to the indiscréet will of every desperate opposition, for that were both to consumed justice and reason: therefore I would have you pleased to know, that the imputation which you would excuse by accusing me of falsehood, is so clear and manifestly known to the world, that the record thereof is registered in an honourable Court, whence all error is deprived, so that the remembrance thereof cannot choose but instruct you in your misconceit, and bear that falsehood back to yourself, which you would wrongfully impose on another, for it were monstrous if a man should be bound to defend with his sword, whether it were day, when the Sun shined, I or no, and such like is your quarrel; therefore, if the 〈◊〉 of your courage must needs be allayed by my Rappier, ellect a ground of more certain doubt, and I will answer it with my best virtue: in the mean space be satisfied that all the best spirits of this nation will think I have herein given your insufficient call a sufficient satisfaction.  
T. W.   

XXVII.  
A reply by the former challenger, again to urge the field.  
SYR:  
YOur instructions are not to me unknown, neither do I disallow your evasion, yet thus far you must give me leave both to expound myself and my Letter, that I call you not to an account for the reports, whether they be true I or no, but for the malice you made apparent in such trivial discourses, which, forasmuch as it is a passion wicked and dishonourable, I hold it the part of every Gentleman of virtue, to defend himself from such a vi●ia●●● imputation. And here I do accuse you to be a Gentleman full of ●ancour and hatred, and what you have reported of me hath been only to display your 〈…〉 which I will maintain with my sword, where my indifferency shall oppoynt me.  
R. O.   

XXVIII.  
An answer to this second call, wherein the field is likewise avoided.  
SYR.  
YOU travel now from ways unreasonable into paths impossible, wherein it seems to me you display a disposition ●oth absurd and cruel: for it you allow my reports not to be in question, what a tyrannous boldness is it in you to become the searcher & understander of my thoughts (which is a power only in the power of the 〈◊〉) and yet not there by circumstance, or suggestion, give the world any inducements to prove me so inclined? But Sir, both for the avoiding of your further trouble is writing, and your more disgrace in insufficiently writing, I am content thus far to satisfy the world▪ and yourself (which otherwise will be but usurpers of knowledge) that what I have any ways spoken of you, as it was true, so it was utterly without touch of malice or hatred; against which you cannot affirm, in that my thoughts are known to myself and to no other mortal creature.  
T. W.   

XXIX.  
An answer to any challenge which comes from any Servant to a Freeman.  
SYR:  
I Have retained your modest call, and would willingly do you right therein, only there is the difference 〈◊〉 us, that I ●eale I shall double your injury: for in 〈…〉 makes you at another's and not at your 〈…〉 how can you be capable of the houses of your adversaries appointment? Therefore you must be pleased; either 〈…〉 or your right in challenges, (a choice distasteful to your spirit) for till you can become an equal, you may not lawfully enter into matters of equaltie: yet because you shall not baptise mine advantage with either fear, or cruelty, I am content to give you my rights, assuring you I will attend the hours of your own election.  
L. O.   

XXX.  
A general answer to any honest and sufficient Cartel.  
SYR:  
YOur call is like yourself, full of virtuous anger, to which with all willingness I will give satisfaction: therefore I beseech you, give credence to this Gentleman my seconds, who shall give you the time and place, and make mine election for the weapon.  
Yours T. A.    

Amorous Epistles, containing matter of love or accompliment.  

XXXI.  
An Epistle which may come from any woman of worth, either to her Father, chief friend, or guardian, who not affecting her choice in love, seek not only to divorce it, but with all violence and advantages pursue her friend, even unto death.  
SYR:  
WHat you will determine of me it is to me uncertain, but what I have determined of myself I am most certain, which is no longer to enjoy my life than I may enjoy him for my husband whom the heavens for my highest glory have bestowed upon me: if you please to kill him, execute me, let any throat satisfy the hunger of 〈◊〉; for alas, what hath he done that had not his original in me: Look upon him, I beseech you, with indifferency, and see whether in those eyes all virtue shines not? see whether that face can hide a blemish? Take leisure to know him, and then yourself will say it hath been too great an inhumanity to suspect such excellency. Are the Gods think you, deceived in their workmanship? Artificers will not use Marble but to noble uses: should those powers be so overjoyed as to frame so precious an Image of their own, but to honourable purposes? O speak with me, O hear me, O know him, and become not the putter out of the world's light. Hope you to please heaven by hurting him it loveth about all the world? I beseech you let not his loss make you accursed of the whole earth, & of all posterity, he is a Gentleman of eminence: why should you hinder mine advancement, who if I have passed my childhood, hurtless to any, if I have refused no body to do what good I could, if I have often mitigated your anger, ever sought to maintain your favour; nay, if I have held you dearer than my life, rob me not of more than my life comes unto? Tear not that which is inseparably joined to my soul, but if he rest misliked of you (which O God how can it be?) yet give him to me, let me have him, you know I pretend no right to your estate: therefore it is but a private petition I make unto you: or if you be hard heartedly bend to appoint otherwise (which O sooner let me die then know) then to end as I began, let me by you be ordered to my last end, with ou● for more cruelty you mean to force me to use mine own hands 〈…〉 of your own children.  
The saddest F.   

XXXII.  
An Epistle near of the same nature, but is to be sent from a Gentlewoman whose Parents being dead, is left to the tuition of friends, and they only are adverse and opposite to her choice in love.  
IN such a state (Gentlemen) you have placed me, as I can neither write nor be silent; for how can I be silent since you have left me nothing but my solitary words to testify my misery, and how should I write, who neither can resolve what to write, nor to whom to write? What to write it is hard for me to say, as what I may not write, so little hope have I of any success, and so much hath no injury been left undone to me wards. To whom to write where may I learn, since yet I wot not how to entitle you; shall I call you my Sovereigns, set down your laws that I may do you homage? shall I fall lower, and name you my Kinsmen, show me your bloods in your love? but shall I name myself the Mistress of myself? alas, no; I am your prisoner: But whatsoever I be, or whatsoever you be, O all you beholders of these doleful lines, this do I signify unto you, and signify it with a heart that shall ever remain in that opinion, the good or evil you do to him I love, I will ever impute it as either way done to mine own person; he is a Gentleman, and worthy to be my husband, and so is he my husband, by me worthily chosen. Believe it, believe it, either you shall be murderers by killing me, or if you let me live, the killers of him shall smart as murderers: for what do you think I can think; am I so childish, as not to see wherein you touch him you wound me? can his shame be without my reproach? no, nor shall be, since nothing he hath done that I will not enough. Is this the comfort you bring me, to make me fuller of shame then sorrow? Would you do this if it were not with full intention to prevent my power with slaughter? and so do I pray you, it is high time for me to be weary of my life too long led, since you are weary of me before you have power in me. I say again, I say it instnitely unto you, I will not live without him, if it be not to revenge him; either do justly in saving both, or wi●ely in killing both: if I be your better, I command his preservation▪ if your inferior, I beg it, for I take all truth to witness, he is worthy and bertuous. Therefore to conclude, in wronging him you wrong me, neither conceive with yourselves that your injuries aspyze to the life of a stranger, but even to the life of your unfortunate kinswoman,  
P. D.   

XXXIII.  
An answer unto the two former Epistles.  
IF the love to your person (Madam) and the great obligation betwixt my soul and your noble deceased fathers (to which the eye of the highest was tired for a witness) have sirred up in you in you so many perturbations, both of spirit an● body, that it hath taken from you all excellent remembrances and cogitations worthy the meditation of your virtue, so that forgetting yourself, you breed a neglect of your unspotted reputation. I beseech you, be pleased to let me a waken your knowledge, and stir up your considerations with the intoxication of mine honest and sincere designs, which ever have had eyes fixed only upon your virtuous advancement. First, for the residence of your person, so much displeasing unto you through the solitude thereof; albe I must confess it is barren of those confluences of timeserving tongues, whose flattering music only pleaseth the descréese ear, but for a little season; yet is it so sufficiently stored with honest and faithful plainness (the best commerce for virtue) that however now swayed with the billow of your passion, hereafter I hope your wisdom will neither doubt of your speech or silence, nor to whom to impart your bosoms directions, since my faith and service (ever versed in the preoccupation and business of your good) shall never deserve to become such a stranger to your goodness. Touching the Gentleman, your election, I neither deny his worthiness of person or estate, but affirm his much unfitness both in respect of his already nearness in affinity, whereby your house shall be no more then formerly strongthened, as also his abode & comorance in a far removed country, whereby your own country being deprived of these comforts which their hopes have tediously expected, there shall redound unto it nothing but a deprivation of those blessings, and a strong fear of the devastation of those costly Buildings which your ancestors have erected to cover their names, and give relief to their neighbours, till the last day of the world's continuance. But you fear his murder, as if my gainestanding his affection should compel his grief (being accompanied with despair) to stifle him: alas (Madam) such thoughts are but supererogating works of your faith, which in a person of less merit would appear too gaudily clothed in self love; for neither do I think his heat is so violent, nor his resolution so irreligiously constant for his own destruction, especially since such actions do deprive men of all worth and good titles whatsoever. neither shall any outrage in him breed imputation of guiltiness in me; my hand of duty calling meets the prevention of 〈◊〉 evil, into which you shall either embark your honour or hopest to come, which motive when your excellent judgement hath examined and poised in the scale of virtue: you will think him 〈◊〉 unworthy of threatenings; much less of revenge, who will ever live to ●bay all your modest commands.  
L. E.   

XXXIIII.  
An amorous Epistle only complemental, which may pass between any two persons, of what degree soever.  
IT is not the eye (my dearest and best respected Mistress) which taketh in the excellency of true love, and by the virtue of its intelligence, maketh the heart only capable of all love, faith and constancy, as if, being deprived the best judging sense, it could deserve nothing but by a herald or instruction; making that maimed and disfigured which is the noblest, best accomplished, and the most excellent in the whole work of nature: O no (my dearest) the heart is not the borrower of those lights, but having all his communication and frequency with the divine soul, like the Sun which is both the eye and spirit of Nature, dareth from his own clear beams those excellencies of resolution and faithfulness which makes our loves renowned for the virtue of truly and worthily loving, for it is most certain, that the love which taketh up his lodging only in the eyes closet of admiration, and is but thence recommended to the hearts considerations; it is a love as insubstanciall as a shadow, and no longer to be retained then a sound, which the ear in his best liking looseth. This I write (sweet) that you may know (as long as truth ●olds his place in your knowledge) that the affection which perpetually is made one with my heart, sprang from no delight or amazement of mine eyes, (into which only the excellency of colours do insinuate) but from judgement, deliberation, and resolution, the hearts three faithfullest and best deserving counsellors, so that your virtues and worthy parts, having inseparably fixed in me the remembrance & acknowledgement of your perfections, my hope is, that no customary coyness, which is but the false title and motley-garment of discretion, shall either discourage my pro●éedings (which have only virtue for their conduct) nor delay my hopes, which are only perfect, in that they hope nothing but what is most suitable with an honourable reputation. It the infancy of your knowledge, yet too young to judge my merit, because time hath presented me, but as a stranger to your sight, make you fear to embark the treasure of your love into a vessel of whole soundness you are uncertain (albe the outward face never so richly embellished) know, that even unto rumour himself, who is most unacquainted to speak well by the noblest perfection (slander and he being seldom or never uncoopled) I dare ●oldly prostitute both my good name and actions, assured that envy is not so destitute of fit subjects to cast his malices upon, as he will attract the least drop of his poison to deface that image of my virtue, which hath hitherto lived clear, free, and undespighted: to which considerations when truth shall fix his undoubted affirmation, than my hope is you will think him worthy, who will ever live and die, your admirer,  
R. C.   

XXXV.  
A blunt Epistle from an honest true affection.  
Mistress, I love you honestly, and desire to enjoy you faithfully: my birth is not hid, nor mine actions concealed, mine estate hath no coverture but the air, nor my private wealth any purse but men's knowledges. If your eye can be satisfied with the one, and your mind with the other, without accomplements (the guilt of falsehood) you shall find that faith, care, and frugal seriousness, which shall expire but with my breath only: with virtue I seek to win you, with virtue I will ever keep you, and till virtue shall be utterly consumed, I will be ever faithful.  
R. R.   

XXXVI.  
An Epistle which may come from any man of good place, to any woman of worthiness, on whom his love doteth with so much violence, that he is even at the point of death with the extremity thereof.  
MO● 〈◊〉 Paper, which shal● 〈◊〉 that hand whereto all 〈◊〉 is in nature a servant, do not dis●ayne to ear●y with thee the 〈◊〉 words of a miser now despairing: weyhter be afraid to appears before her 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 of the ●●nder, for 〈◊〉 sooner shall that divine hand 〈◊〉 thee, but that thy basin esse shall be turned to most high preferment. Therefore mourn boldly nine Luke, for 〈◊〉 she looks upon you, your blackness will shine: cry out vo●●dly my lamentations, for 〈◊〉 she read you, your cries will be music: say then (O happy 〈◊〉 of a most unhappy message) that the too soon 〈…〉 dying creature, which dares not speak, no not look, no not scarcely think (as from his miserable self unto her heavenly highness) only presumes to desire thee (in the time that her eyes and voice do exalt thee) to say, and in this manner to say, not from him, O no, that were notelet, but of him, thus much unto her sacred judgement. O you the only honour to women; to men the only admiration, you that being armed by love defy him that armed you, in this high estate wherein you have placed, yet let me remember him to whom▪ I am 〈◊〉 for bringing me to your presence, and let me remember him who (〈…〉 is yours, how mean soever ●ee 〈◊〉) it is reason you have an account of him. The wretch (yet your wretch) though with languishing steps 〈…〉, and will you suffer a Temple (〈…〉 yet a Temple of your deity) to be razed? but he dieth, it is most true, he dieth, and he in whom you live, to obey you, dieth, whereof though he plain, he doth not complain, for it is a harm, but no wrong, which he hath received: he dies, because in woeful language, all his senses tell him that such is your pleasure, for since you will not that he live, alas, alas, what followeth of your ruined servant but his end? End then most evil destyred man, end, and end thou woeful Letter, end: for it sufficeth her wisdom to know that her heavenly will shall be accomplished, by her only dispayre-full catite,  
Anonymous.   

XXXVII.  
Another amorous Epistle of like nature, but not full so violent.  
TIme and knowledge, the only forte●●ers of the mind, in all worthy and virtuous opinions, have with so constant a resolution (my only dearest and best respected Mistress) settled your perfections in my divinest part, that neither Alexander with his sword, nor the Devil with any slanderous imputation, can divide or untwiste the least part of that knot which ties me eternally to your service, and albe the best of worthiness, is ever (and proud it ever may so be) a continual attendant on your virtues, and so out of the wealth of such merit may make my loyalty neglected, yet shall the contention of my faith so unresistably strive for the supremest eminence (as not to be exceeded by any breast of greatness) that when your judgement shall call all your creatures into a comparative account, none shall come near me either for love or continuance: many other protestations I could make, but none more able, more effectual; and therefore, since all hold their alliance with truth, and truth so inseparably joined with my soul that death hath not authority to urge divorcement between them, let me (O you all best of your sex) humbly beseech you, to entertain with belief into your memory the knowledge of my faithful love, that thence I may gain the hope of some noble pity, and from your pity the blessed grace, which is the God of a lovers Fortune. This if you will vouchsafe to a merit as strong in it one belief, as you are noble in the world's opinion, you shall not only be the creator of all bliss, which shall accompany my days, but fill every minute in them with a studious observation, how to be more and more thankful in my service: the contrary whereof, when you shall administer to my misfortunes, so desperate a dispayrefulnesse will fix itself with the easy belief of mine unworthiness, that a sudden and abortive death will be the best end of my wretchedness, how ever being your slave it is your voice must bring me manumission, or bind me to continue eternally in the labour of affliction: to which I will submit with such patience, that yourself shall not forbear to prove against yourself that I am only your truest servant,  
S. G.   

XXXVIII.  
A modest answer negative, which may come from any Gentlewoman of place to her Suitor.  
SYR:  
THE excess of your protestations urge in me a little jealousy of belief, both because I am assured that truth is so modast & temperate in every faculty of its own worthiness, that it hates Hyperboles, and superrerogating works of too much praise, as also, in that reason, (which is the soundest counsellor to a weak judgement) instructs me, that the plainest love hath ever the plainest garments, coveting rather to be transparent and viewed through, then with this armed shelter o● accomplementall protestations, to disfigure much the countenance of true meaning. Neither can you make me so ambitious, to believe that such ●pythet●us as you link me, unto, are either mine by inheritance, or yours any longer than shadowlike they attend, & follow the Sunshine of your Pen, customs and imitation, having taught you in this dissembling age, the Art of gild so perfectly, and with so little cost, that rather than you will neglect your art, you will employ your pains upon earth, or the most despised images: for mine own part, I am not unacquainted that such labours are ever aparrelled with scorn, neither will I die with wings which will melt to behold the suns countenance: therefore pardon me that I cannot thank you for my praise, nor believe the vanity of your protestations, Love: with whom I have vowed all strangeness of affection, and utter disknowledge for ever, having no more power to work upon my soul, than you sense to feel the passions which govern me. Hence I beseech you, Sir, let proceed a desistance of solicitation, for I neither can, will, nor may, assent to your desires: both myself and those greater powers which only have power to direct and govern me, being so opposite to what you entreat, that impossibility is only left to assure you that what time you spend hereafter in this nature is lost and fruitless. Your worth I acknowledge to be noble and unspotted, and thence your merit to proceed what soever in me you account excellent, giving your fortunes undoubtable resolutions, that you may enjoy the best of those which walk in a rank before me: but for myself, there is neither hope, neither possibility, which assurance I doubt not, but will so fortify your wisdom to alter the course of your love, that I shall hereafter live free from this Pen-trouble: in requital of which merit, none shall exceed me in good wishes for your advancement, or with chaste thoughts better esteem you then  
M. N.   

XXXIX.  
An other amorous answer affirmative, with some doubt, which may be sent from any discreet Gentlewoman to her Suitor.  
SYR:  
I Could have wished your love had come clothed in this Paper, with less circumstance and more plainness, for so should I have been more capable of your chaste intent, and my brain less troubled in the decision of your love, which the garments of good words makes doubtful and much subject to censure: but I am charitable, and will believe (till your error make me more sound in judgement) that in the fair field of your protestations, no tempting Serpent lurketh to undo mine honour, being a companion so bear to my soul, that when it shall receive the least 〈◊〉 my body shall perish for ever. But to avoid that vanity of which I talk you, be pleased to understand, that it either mine eye of ear might be the judges of my fortunes, or their intelligence had power to give satisfaction to all which governs me, than I could put all doubts and scruples from your remembrance, because I neither see in your person any thing to dislike me, nor have heard of your estate to be otherwise then may well sort with your place and reputation. But Sir, you must know I have not interest in the moiety of myself, being by mine own gift so estranged from mine own desires, that I cannot without usurpation say any of my serious thoughts are at mine own disposure, I have, Sir, a Father, whose worthy judgement is (and worthy ever to be) so potent over me, that not only my person, but even my thoughts are wholly to be disposed by him: him if you please to solicit, and make his wisdom commend your virtuous desires to my consideration, there is no doubt but my easy belief may soon be traduced to imagine that there is nothing in your love but honour and goodness. The contraries whereof, if he shall please to annex with his opinion, be then assured it is as impossible to wrest me from the like thoughts, as for the Insant Hyla to take by force the Club from his Master Hercules. If the labour of this double pains breed in you any discouragement, you cannot too early desist, nor too soon give me ease of a needless trouble, your worth will make you frequent with better choice, & my contract with wisdom against passion, will ever fortress me to live without the knowledge of vnr●lieuing repentance. Thus you have both mine & your own resolution in your bosom, agree them or separate them, both are to me indifferent, and charity shall ever make me your chaste wellwisher.  
A. D.   

XL.  
Another answer affirmative, when friends and all parts are satisfied.  
SIR,  
THis action of marriage, which is the last date of a woman's liberty, being for the dignity fearful, and for the seriousness worthy our carefullest considerations, is to me such a bugbear full of Chymerean shapes, that I oft start and tremble at such shadows: only I am so much fortified in your noble love, & the true constancy of your well settled affection, to which your vows and my friends satisfactions hang as seals, that I have banished all oppositions, and do now boldly give my love and honour into your protection, hoping you will as carefully preserve them, as I have dearly and with all strictness of thought nourished them, in which you shall show a virtue worthy your goodness, and make me contend in my faith and serviceableness to exceed the best example of my sex, for being only conquered by your virtue no tribute, is sufficient but this, that I will ever live and die your faithfullest▪  
M. N.   

XLI.  
An Epistle of Love from a plain Countryman, to any woman his equal.  
BOth report (Marry) and mine own eyes have assured me of your sufficiency in all those good things which should appertain to a woman of your place, and from thence my love hath taken such sure root that it can neither wither nor perish whiles my life lasts: what I am you know, or at least may from your neighbour's intelligence: as for my substance, I need not in this Letter make the audite thereof, because when your friends shall call it in account, their own eyes shall give them the reckoning, only it is your benest affection which I entreat, to which I will join mine, with so good a meaning, that howsoever any man may envy me, yet you shall have cause never to accuse my breach of promise: more words I would utter, but more substance I cannot tender, therefore expecting your answer, I rest your ever most assured  
T. D.   

XLII.  
An answer of denial to the former Epistle.  
THomas▪ I am not as you, either beholden to report, or mine▪ eyes, for any goodness that is contained in you, which makes me doubt, if I should seek to intelligence, I should find nothing to give me contentment: therefore you must know, my love having no root it is impossible for you to expect any fruit from my love: as for my knowledge of you▪ it is so little, it is not worthy the examination: and for my friends, calling your living to account, I will save them that labour, for it is most certain, I neither can nor will give you mine affection: many circumstances binding me thereunto: therefore if you please hereafter both to spare your word● and your wooing, you shall both give me pleasure, and yourself ●ase, making me so much beholden to your little trouble, that I will ever live your friend.  
M. B.   

XLIII.  
Another answer of granting to the desire of the Suitor.  
YOU need not (Thomas) appeal to these witnesses of your love, seeing both your own honesty and my belief will ever persuade you from mocking of a simple Maiden, whom you may sooner delude with dishonest practice, than any way abvance by your best affection. But the truth is, I know you to be discreet and good, which are bonds sufficient to keep you from evil doing, therefore as you have won me with your love and discretion, satisfied my friends with your means and honest behaviour: so I pray you covet to keep me with the like virtues, for though many have more words, yet none shall have more love, nor you find yourself more dearly esteemed in any bosom, then in mine, that will ever faithfully love you, and faithfully live yours for ever.  
M. B.   

XLIIII.  
An amorous Epistle of an old Man to a young Maid, of good parts and parentage.  
IT is but the envy of youth (sweet heart) which layeth imputations upon age, making it disable, apt to frenzy, unfound, unsavoury, and uncleanly, which indeed are attributes, only appropriate to themselves, the first springing from their ungrowne ripeness: the second from heat of blood: the third from their lusts: the fourth from unwasted corruptions, & the last from negletive carelessness: all in general eschewing the commerce with wisdom, in whom age is ever conversant. Believe it, youth only imagineth what they would have us, but we assuredly know what they are, who frameth fair buildings with young twygs, and not with old Timber, who adorneth himself with buds & not with full grown Flowers. What perfection is in imperfectness? or what pleasure in distaste? It is only time which makes men wise, and years which bringeth forth wisdoms child, truest experience: knowledge is the end of our creation, for in it only the highest is glorified, and who can rightly know which hath not time for his Tutor? These things drawn into your consideration (my dearest) why should I fear (for that which is my best virtue) to solicit you with a love constant and spotless (two liveries which yet could never fit youths back) seeing your wealthiest hopes are confined in such goodness: neither have the resolutions of my love proceeded from mine eyes, but judgement, a settled counsel of wisdom, and reason confirming my desire, and imboldening my spirit to manifest the chaste and honest love which inflameth me with a noble ardency. O then be pleased to know, that discretion hath taught me to love you entirely, & that love compels me to beg from your bosom a love suitable to its goodness; giving you this assurance from a mind unwavering, that as far as honest industry, faith and religions care have power, so far I will every way contend to make me worthy your enjoyment: but if all shall be (through imiginary fears) neglected, know, you shall but prevent nature a little, and bring him to an early grave, who esteemeth your good, and advancement, equal with the glory of his own soul; my heart hath taught mine eyes to delight but in one object, and mine experience binds them hath to a settled constancy in their election, so that not being able to move, they rest obedient to hear the doom of your will, which howsoever it be swayed, shall never alter me from being your eternal admirer.  
A. G.   

XLV.  
An answer to the former Epistle.  
SYR:  
TO defend one's self by another's injury, appears to me much uncharitable, especially where a needless imputation is néedlesly raised: for though the guiltiness of age may be stirred with fear, yet I can assure you youth is no actual opposer against you, neither is my minds so much acquainted with either, that it studies upon any of their perfections, only you must give me leave for mine own years sake, so far to defend youth, that albe blood and violence bind it to some distemperatures, yet is it not subject to such mortal sicknesses as your Pen would infect it with: for should such cold Palsies so early benumb it, t' were doubtless it could not continue to come to the name of aged: it is blood consuming, not increasing, which breeds weakness, and coldness, not heat, which is the mother of mortal infection: in contraries, there is never friendship, and where there is dissimilitude of parts, there the figure hath an unseemly proportion. But why do I trouble my Pen with this argument? let it suffice you Sir, I have considered your love, and believe it to be as worthy as you would make it; only when I would fix mine unto it; my blood stirs such a commotion in my bosom, that no reconcilement can bring them by many leagues together: your wisdom's, mine indiscretion: your temperance, my rashness: your coldness, and my flame, appearing in such contrary colours, that even reason and religion agrees to make an everlasting divorce between them. Therefore I beseech you, be pleased to let wisdom overrule your passion, and where there cannot be delight, do not compel consent, lest what you purchase with constraint, perish with discomfort, and yourself too late grieve to see how far remedy is exiled from you: more I cannot say, except more time had given me more testimony, that the evils I fear, are much less dangerous; which when it shall, I will then compel my nature to agree with my fortune, and repay faith with duty, and true love with all true observation, being assured that none can love truer, than the truly loving.  
D. O.   

XLVI.  
An Epistle of accomplements, which may generally pass between two friends.  
YOur love (my best respected friend) is so active in my bosom, that every occasion of salutation stirs in my brain matter enough for my Pen to work upon, insomuch, that though the barrenness of the time, and the dullness of the place in which I live, deny to load my Paper with any novel seriousness, yet my respect to you, and wishes ever to be preserved in your best memory, (of which I am ambitious to give the longest instance) shall amplify my thoughts, and send them unto you, suited in so true an affection that you shall take delight to read the volume of my friendship, which I know your own noble nature will instruct you both to embrace and cherish▪ as well for the zeal of the ground from whence it springs, as love to that fruit which shall fill your bosom with contentment. Our separation is a continual sickness, and without this Paper-spéech would be most iniurably mortal, meditation being so great an enemy to the breath, that it would quickly bring life to his last consumption: therefore I beseech you, both for my comfort, & your own preservation, square the 〈◊〉 your Physic by mine imitation, and send me your words in writing, to which I will give so much loved entertainment, that were they able to return their own messages, you should without suspect know that nothing is more glorious than a true friends accomplements. Make my mind happy to behold what mine eyes cannot, I mean yourself in your Letters, for they are the liveliest Characters of that Figure which we adore with most earnestness, and though the words be black, yet is their sound so clear and mystical, that they stain the brightness which contains them, & make the ear covet no noise but their repetition. Protestation is the mother of jealousy, and too much to fortify knowledge is to breed suspicion in knowing: therefore briefly, love me still, for I will love you ever, and when any malice of an envious spirit shall insinuate betwixt us, remember my virtue and my vow, which is ever to live faithful.  
I. B.   

XLVII.  
A plain friends Letter without accomplishment.  
FRiend (for so much thy virtue hath made me) since custom hath made a conscience of writing, and that something must proceed from nothing, or else give suspicion leave to play the Knave, as honest Cicero said to his friend, so say I to thee, if thou be'st well, all is well, and my health is better by such knowledge, if otherwise take comfort and counsel, for no grief like thine is able to enter my bosom. If I had more to say I would more weary thee, but matter hath ever been with me more fluent than words, therefore live as happy as I wish, and thou shalt die as blessed as a Saint, for no man's prayers are more de●out for thee then mine, whose love thou holdest in a perpetual feesimple.  
G. W.   

XLVIII.  
An Epistle from a Gentleman of good rank, to his Kinsman in Court, for procuring him the Order of Knighthood.  
SYR:  
THE nearness in blood betwixt us in true descent, I need not discover, since I do assure myself of your knowledge therein. But the friendship betwixt us of long time since, I may well comemorate, for the one being only a corruption is daily in sight, but the other proceeding from virtue is soon forgotten. Speaking of us, I mean our Ancestors, who in all true friendship conjoined, whereby there were at one time living five Knights of your name, and in like manner at that instant, at one time, there were also five Knights of my House and Name. But to boast of the glory of mine Ancestors, who being honourable, died honourably; served the Kings of this Realm both in the wars, in the Court, and in the Country, might seem to proceed of childery. But to lament mine own estate, living under the times of general advancement, and yet only bereaved of that degree wherein mine Ancestors have been possessed this four hundred years in dessent, may seem to proceed of just sorrow: which to make greater, I daily see those under my rank, whom neither virtue nor riches are acquainted with, precéede me in honourable titles, finding that friendship from strangers, which the union of blood miserably neglecteth. But I will no more urge th●● envy of others, only awaken you to do by me as if our fortunes were altered, I would assuredly do for you, and if my name get any addition of honour by your words, believe it, neither shall my nature be unthankful, nor my love slothful to employ itself in all the offices of your service, to whom I will ever live a faithful Kinsman, and a perfect friend.  
T. L.   

XLIX.  
An Epistle complementory, to a man of eminence going into the wars, in which he preferreth a Soldier unto him.  
SYR:  
I Was determined (hearing of your return to your lodging) to have come to salute you, and amongst others your friends to give you a hearty well-willing farewell, wishing you success according to your good worth & long merit: I heartily pray for you all, and that is all I can do, but lament my fortune to be tied to so base a travel betwixt Court and Court, encountering with Parchment, Ink and Paper, in the time of so noble enterprises. I am suddenly called away about great and commanding business, wherein I pray you, excuse me, who will ever pray 〈◊〉 you, and love you. Sir, this bearer, whose utmost ambition is to do you service in this voyage, I beseech you, let me entreat you to accept, and grace him with your favour, as he shall deserve it by his carriage: his parsonage you see; I can further, by good knowledge of him, testify to you that he is a right honest man, of good courage, of good reckoning, and hath friends of like quality, and good worth: I doubt not, but he will verify that I have said, by his behaviour, & then I shall not need to desire you to love him, for your own disposition out of your judgement makes choice of such for your love, therefore I commend him to your honourable favour, and myself heartily to yourself, vowing ever to live your faithful at all times.  
E. D.   

L.  
A Letter from one in prison to his friend for relief.  
SYR:  
AMongst all the helpful offices of virtuous and generous men, none is more excellent than that aid which they afford the distressed in time of their captivity and affliction, and being persuaded there is as much will as power in you to do good (my love having never been a stranger to your familiarity) I am encouraged to pray your favourable & friendly furtherance by such good course and means as you will be pleased to vouchsafe me concerning my relief, the nature and quantity whereof, I wish, may only be proportioned by your virtue & bounty, whose love will take up into your consideration my present despair of all comfort, being a man full of the disasters of imprisonment, as poverty, hunger, ill and most infectious air, bad lodging, and to be brief, idleness and sloth, my hands and industry shut up from all kind of courses that may give relief, I am only comforted with hope of your love, which will with a charitable eye behold my wants, wherein you shall not only bind me to you as a resfresher of my de●ected body and mind, but as the means of mine enlargement and liberty, which a small sum of money will effect, for which great benefit besides my thankful acknowledgement of your so special favour and friendship, I will strive by my best endeavours to become some way actually deserving. So wishing you all happiness and con●entment, I take leave, and rest to be commanded at your occasion.  
I. B.   

LI.  
A merry-mad Letter in Skeltons● rhyme, sent from one Poet to another, who had brought baptism on the Stage.  
Superscribed Aiaci meo, Flagellifer●.  
O Thou my Muse  
Make no excuse  
But open thy 〈◊〉  
To write of some nuse  
In a vain profuse,  
Aid thou my Pen  
Thou wonder of men  
Wash thou my brain  
With dew Castalian  
And make my wits fine  
With ●onte Caballine.  
If true I do write  
I am to indite  
Of sundry strange matters  
And divers odd claters,  
Which chanced of late  
(Not touching the state)  
I like not such prate,  
But if I speak true  
Then this both ensue  
Belongs Sir to you:  
Know then for a truth  
Though to tell I am loath  
Of that must harm both  
Without stare or oath  
Take this for a 〈◊〉  
The Summers of London  
Are coming to Horndon  
Sublimi flagello  
To scourge a bad fellow  
As close as King louvre  
With two whips and no more,  
There to surprise  
Your fugitive carkise  
Without ●ayle or mainprize,  
There have been odd spies  
From whom did arise  
You allowed to baptise  
Of late on the Stage.  
Know then by your Page  
That this your soud age  
The Synod so sage  
Have thought to assuage  
By no prison nor cage  
But unmeet of your age  
Your loins for to gauge  
By letting you blood  
For that both most good,  
I swear by the ●ood  
For him that is wood,  
There must you be stripped  
And sound whipped  
With horrible bashes  
And terrible clashes  
With horrible blows  
And terrible throws,  
As true as you are Sacerdos  
And as we suppose  
Hea●●tantyme●umenos,  
divers of the City  
Say it is great pity  
That so proper a man  
Do what they can  
Will now and than  
Let his wit run at ran▪  
But quid amplius vis Sir?  
As more of this Sir,  
But now extra jocum  
With speed change your locum  
Bring work for the Cocum  
And same guests for the Focum.  
Fundimus haec sine Skeltoni, fine numine P●li.  
R. A.   

LII.  
A merry Letter from an Officer of the twelve days, to a Lord of Christmas.  
PLeaseth your high Excellency to understand: I have received certain intelligence touching the whole o●●currents of all your foreign businesses, as well by Land as by Sea, wherein albe Destiny in these latter designs hath been less auspicious than in the precedent times of your former government, yet to a Prince of your great spirit and wisdom. I know the crosses of Fortune are but only alarms to awaken and fortify your hopes, against the worst of chances: wherefore to proceed to those negotiations with which I have been acquainted: your great army by Land, sent into the high Empire of of Terra Laetitiae, under the conduct of Don Regula Modesta, arrived most happily, fortified most strongly, & conquered both Towns, Castles, and the hearts of the best disposed people, until the three Kings of the North parts, Hunger, Cold, and Want, uniting their forces together, with the aid and seconds of the states of the base Countries, being led by Misery, Usury, and Formality, ●ad your highness general battle upon Christmasse-eve, where the fight was exceeding terrible, but the vanguard of the enemy, being led by Fashion and Fasting, two meager enemies, were by your excellencies first squadrons, under the conduct of Don Abundantio, put to rout, and in their slight made the battle retire, which giving the rear a dismay, your Soldiers ●ell pell-mell into the execution, in which battle the three Kings were taken prisoners, the whole Gallantry put to flight, and the most of the infantry slain and utterly disabled for service: your army only remaining Masters of the field, gave testimony of their conquest both by their shouts, banquets, and bonesters of twelve days lasting. But see the inconstancy of the best chances, the two King's Custom & Reguritie, being the puissant Emperors of the large continent of Frugality, fearing your highness might by this encouragement entitle your greatness to their Dominions, have joined their forces together, and besieged your famous general, within the great City of Laughter, where partly through the corruption of the air of that City, and partly with the drink of that soil, which is br●w'd with the weed Aliquid nimis, his soldiers fall continually to disability of service, so that except your excellency immediately embark yourself with new ●orces to give him instant relief, there is no hope but of the utter desolation both of your great army and Empire.  
Your army by sea hath fought many ●all fights, attained infinite prize, and made themselves masters of the whole merry-Dcean. But the Admiral hearing of this dangerous besiegement, hoping to give succours by sea, dis●mbagde, and hoisting sail came in twelve nights before the walls of the besieged: but the Navy of the enemy having by a special adviso instant intelligence, thrust in betwixt them and the harbour, where began a dreadful and sore fight, ●●ll both of doubt and admiration: for Dona Vrselina, your highness good Ship, having put up her fights, and being made you're for the nimblest business, turned her broad side upon the enemy's Uiceadmirall, and having the advantage of the wind, showing the whiteness of her underlops, gave him a volley of chain-shot, and throwing her fireworks upon his main yard, made him not only glad to cut his Sails, but also to spend both his Masts & his Boresplyt. Dona Catherina, your most enduring Pinnace, held the rear Admiral a fight full as terrible: but Dona Cognata, a ship for your own sailing, she twice ●oorded the Admiral, but for want of good tackling, and the ship of a broken anchor, she was blown off, and lost the hope of a brave conquest: but in conclusion, the Armadaes of the enemy were so Infinite in number, that your Excellencies fleet were fain to retreat under the guard of the Cannon of the City, where they also abide most severely besieged, so that there is neither hope of their deliverance, nor safety in your own government, unless personally with the aid of your honourable Founders (being of great name and greater virtues) you repair to the relief of your noblest (distressed) subjects, and to the preservation of your Crown and Dignity: the consideration whereof, leaving to your own thoughts, I humbly kiss your hands.  
Don Bablioso de Wast-time.  
Superscribed To the most high and most mighty Monarch of Mirth, Masking and misrule. D. D.   

LIII.  
An Epistle of advise to a friend.  
SYR:  
YOu write unto me you are determined to leave off the ●udy of the Laws, and only betake yourself unto the wars, and command my friendship to deliver you mine advice in the course you pretend, which motion seems to me to carry the face of a little cruelty, for having fixed down a resolution how your life shall be continually ●erssed, it will hardly come within the power of counsel, to alter that of which our souls are enamoured, and then my reasons and your thoughts meeting in opposition, may stir fancy in you to be jealous both of my love and discretion. But since I had rather undergo that fear of mistaking, then by silence or neglect, see you run into an error unavoidable, I will boldly give you mine opinion, and afterward refer your own will to your own judgement: first, for your abandoning the study of the Laws, in my conceit you foretake a friend of your blood to enjoy the familiarity of a stranger, or in a worse sense, cut off a true féelling member, to have the employment of a wooden one: for if we derive the actions of our lives to the ends of our advancements, what then this study can be more swift, more certain? the corruptions of time & the ambitions of men having made it in all Common wealth● the main nerve and sin of justice. What greater peace can you have then meditation? what sweeter war than disputation, whose worst wound is the gaining of knowledge? What better accommodation than your Books, where the whole wisdom of the earth is daily talking unto you? and what scale so easy and certain to rise by as that which is supported by justice, virtue, and the good of all Kingdoms? A profession as eternal as the world, and as necessary as our recreations: an honour not bounded in any straight circumference, but so largely left to the utmust lists of eminence, that it walks one rank before the greatest nobility, having no acquaintance with danger, nor other beholdingness than its own virtue. But you will say, the study is heavy and unpleasant: why ●o is all things that draw us to goodness: Who can well relish the potion though it bring health? or who will not murmur to 〈◊〉 a limb, though it give cure to the whole body? Things which are got with industry are first to continuance, when those which issue from chance ●all off a vanish in their enjoyment. To conclude, than this study of our common Laws there is nothing more profitable for your estate, nor more certain for your advancement. Now for the wars, it is the noblest a 〈◊〉 of mankind, and I must needs confess the most ancient of all virtues, being honours first begotten, and with so equal a hand, dividing right from injury that no resistance is able to rebate the edge of his execution, yet are his dangers great, and not more great in his execution then in his composition: For though his principal members may be flowers of much goodness, yet for 〈◊〉 most part his body or gro●●er substance is 〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉 corruptions, fancy having so disguised valour in pied garments of supposed gallantry, that if observation were indigent of vices, he might store himself double and treble in an army: anger and boast being the parents of oaths, custom and fashion of drunkenness, & irreligion of blasphemy. These (my best friend) will be your companions in an ●east, and with these of necessity you must be familiar: how such comercement will work upon your soul, I may doubt, though not certainly fear, and how the avoiding will be without danger, I may wish, but not warrant, only my hope is that the virtue you have ever possessed will so govern you, that like the kingly prophet David, who lived with an idolater yet was clear from his sin, so you may accompany many vices, yet be no way yourself blemished with their evils, in which, Religion and Temperance must be such faithful supporters that overawing and keeping down the heat of blood, all things must but shadow like appear unto you which bears not the true livery of virtue and goodness: Thus I have given you a prospective figure of both their characters, the choice whereof I leave to your good Angel, whilst myself will with all faithfulness remain a continual wellwisher of your happy Fortune.  
D. M.   

liv.  
A merrry-mad-Letter to a merry mad wench, chaste and ingenious.  

LAdy of beauty positive,  
Peerless beyond comparative,  
Show your sweet self superlative,  
By seeming sweet ind●eatiue,  
Let yourself (my deer) be active,  
And ever an Organ passive,  
By lending me your conjunctive,  
To have some unseen genitive.   

Lady of feature perfective,  
By a pleasure invative,  
Be of gentle will dative  
To me, your lover optative,  
Which by one breathing vocative  
Do demand the copulative,  
And conjunctive ●ans exative  
To have some unseen genitive.   

(Most fair) if true will affective,  
You have to be suppositive,  
Myself will be oppositive,  
To have some unseen genetive.   
T. W.   

LV.  
An answer to the former Letter in the same kind.  

THE true form desiderative,  
Of your fair speech affirmative,  
Maketh me all meditative,  
How to propound a negative,  
For I fear the accusative  
Will be of force but ●ransetiue,  
Therefore I'll hold my primitive  
And never be derivative.   

For were I found frequentative,  
I should lose my nominative,  
And usurp an apellative,  
The substance of a putative,  
Wherefore I'll be indicative  
To remain meditative,  
And hold still my primitive,  
Without being derivative.   

The conjunctive expla●iue  
Comes after the copulative,  
And brings forth a preparative,  
To make one use dissributive,  
For where there's a noun collective  
Of force comes a deminutive,  
Therefore I'll hold my primitive,  
And never be derivative.   

Of this foolish ●ou● turbative,  
Myself am nothing optative:  
Therefore I'll hold my primitive  
And never be derivative,   
E. H.    

A Table, containing all the several Epistles in this Book.  

Of State and Seriousness.  

AN Epistle exhortary from one enemy to another for pacifying of sedition●. I.  
An Epistle for the calling in of any supreme Officer to answer wrongs done. II.  
An Epistle of counsel to a man of place, being determined to give over the world. III.  
A potent for the lodging of a band of Soldiers. FOUR  
A potent for raising a Company to march into present service. V.  
A Letter to countermand commandments. VI  
A Letter of warrant to put a Captain into pay. VII.  
A Letter to a County, for placing of a Muster-master or any other Officer. VIII.  
An Epistle of consent for confirming any Officer in his place. IX.    

Chartels or Challenges.  

An honourable Challenge from one that cometh to see the wars, and would try his own valour. X.  
An answer to the same. XI.  
An other Challenge of the same nature. XII.  
An answer to the same. XIII.  
A Challenge of the same nature, but proceeding from an angry enemy. XIIII.  
An answer to the same. XV  
A challenge which may pass between Kings. XVI.  
A challenge from an inferior to his equal, having done a superior injury. XVII.  
A challenge from an Inferior, having wrong of a Superior. XVIII.  
A general Challenge where the wrong is not doubtful. IX.  
A Challenge conditional. XX.  
An answer thereunto, with a turning back of the injury. XXI.  
A Challenge of an unworthy nature, and such as Gentlemen should not imitate. XXII.  
An answer like the Challenge, & both unworthy. XXIII.  
A ●oolish Challenge without ground. XXIIII.  
An answer suitable to the Challenge. XXV.  
An answer to a Challenge where the lie is given to a general known truth, and so the defendant not tied to the trial of the sword. XXVI.  
A reply to the answer, and the field urged upon ca●ell. XXVII.  
An answer to the call, and the field avoided. XXVIII.  
An answer to a Challenge from a Servant to a Freeman. XXIX.  
A general answer to any sufficient Challenge. XXX.    

Love-letters, Accomplements, and Merriments.  

An Epistle to a Father which hindereth his daughter of her choice. XXXI.  
An Epistle from a Gentlewoman to her Guardian that withstands her choice in love. XXXII  
An answer to the two former Epistles. XXXIII.  
A general Epistle for two lovers. XXXIIII.  
A blunt Epistle from any honest affection. XXXV.  
An extreme amorous Epistle. XXXVI.  
Another of like nature, but not so violent. XXXVII.  
An answer negative to any amorous Letter. XXXVIII.  
An answer affirmative with some doubt. XXXIX.  
An answers affirmative when all parts are pleased. XL.  
An Epistle of Love from a plain Country man to his equal. XLI.  
An answer of denial. XLII.  
An answer of consent. XLIII.  
An amorous Epistle of an old man to a young maid. XLIIII  
An answer thereunto. XLV.  
A general Epistle accomplementall between any two friends. XLVI.  
An Epistle without accomplishment. XLVII.  
An Epistle for procuring the Order of Knighthood. XLVIII.  
An Epistle complementory, to a man of eminence going into the wars, in which he preferreth a Soldier or servant unto him. XLIX.  
A Letter from one in prison to his friend for relief▪ L.  
A merry-mad Letter in Skelton's rhyme, from one Poet to another. LI.  
A merry Letter from an Officer of the twelve days, to a Lord of Christmas. LII.  
An Epistle of advise to a friend. LIII.  
A merry mad Letter to a merry mad wench, chaste and ingenious. liv.  
An answer to● the same, in the same kind. LV.    
FINIS.