THE BLAZON OF JEALOUSY. A Subject not written of by any heretofore. First written in Italian, by that learned Gentleman BENEDETTO VARCHI, sometimes Lord Chancellor unto the Signory of Venice: AND Translated into English, with special Notes upon the same; by R. T. Gentleman.  ARIOST. in Orl. Furio. Cant. 31. Stanz. 1. 
Che dolce piu, che piu giocondo Stato,  
Saria, di quel, d'vn amoroso cuore?  
Che viuer piu felice, e piu beato?  
Che ritrovarsi in seruitu d' Amore?  
Se non fosse l' huomo sempre stimulato  
Da quel Sospetto rio, da quel Timore,  
Da quel Martyr, da quella Frenesia,  
Da quella Rabbia, detta GELOSIA?  
LONDON: Printed by T. S. for john Busbie, and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstan's Churchyard in Fleetstreet, 1615.   

TO MY HONOURABLE FRIEND, Sir EDWARD DIMMOCK Knight, the most worthy and generous Champion unto the Sacred Majesty of Great BRITAIN, etc.  
SIR, I present unto your judicious view, the Plague of Men, and the ancient Disease of Women: a Subject known, but tootoo well, to many, and yet not written of by any heretofore, as far as I can find. Tasso toucheth it (here and there) in his Works: and Ariosto glanceth at it (a little) in his ORLANDO FURIOSO; only this grave Author BENEDETTO VARCHI, hath discoursed of it at large. The draft is both Philosophical and pleasant; If it like you I esteem the less what Others distaste therein. The ancient Romans used to set forth the portraitures of their best Friends in the foremost front of their Palaces; and so I hope you will vouchsafe that I may blaze your name, in the frontispiece of my Book. Neither doubt I but that you will as kindly entertain it, as it is heartily recommended unto you, considering my meaning, and learded Marshals, is all one in this point: 

Quod non argentum, quod non tibi misimus aurum,  
Hoc faecimus causa (Stella diserte) tua  
Quisquis magra dedit, voluit sibi magna remitti,  
Fictilibus nostris exoner atus eris.   

That we no Gold nor Silver do thee send,  
'twas for thy sake (kind Stella) courteous Friend.  
Who great things give, do look for great again,  
Our trifling toys shall ease thee of that pain.    
This Work then being but a trifle, my labour therein cannot be much, which, nevertheless, if it be any, is only due to your true, courteous, and bountiful Nature; to which not myself alone, but divers other Gentlemen, as well English as Strangers, were beholding for the kind Entertainment you gave us at our being in Italy together. Accept then, this small Mite in part of a greater amends. It is some comfort to an honest mind, to render what (to his power) he can, although not what he should; and better to repay a small Interest, then keep back Principal and All, as many Banckerupts (of good Manners) use now a days to do. And thus with my best wishes for the good of your Worthy self, and of your virtuous Lady, the true Parallel of all Courtly Perfection, I end,  
From my Lodging in Holborn, this 7. of November, 1614 Ingeniously devoted to your Worship, R. T.   

TO THE JUDICIOUS UNDERSTANDER: To the Ignorant READER: and to the base CARPER whatsoever.  
LEarned) to you, whose true Gentility  
Is matched with Virtue in Affinity,  
Into whose fluent Vain, the Muses nine  
Distill all Knowledge, human and Divine,  
Who have the gifts of Tongues to understand,  
(Pure Linguists right) the state of every Land:  
Whose Eaglets Spirits to mount on high are found,  
And not as fearful Swallow, low on ground:  
Whose boundless Ocean of Intelligence,  
Contains (of Arts) the subtle Quintessence.  
Your courteous Nature, being so sweetly framed,  
As it commends, what's worthier to be blamed:  
To you alone, and unto none but you,  
I offer up myself, and Book, as due.  
As for that golden Sconce with leaden Wit,  
I scorn, for scorn, doth Ignorance best fit.  
Rich dunghill Midas with his Ass' ears,  
Who (with his Heels) not with Discretion hears:  
The perfumed gilt-Spurre Musk-cat, Valour's shame,  
Who is not (as he counterfeits) the same:  
Wearing a silver Sword for fashion sake,  
And yet disgraceful Blows and words will take:  
Whose Speech and Ruff seem Both, as One to be,  
Of the new Set, (Twins in Formality,)  
Where, if you bar him from his Common places,  
He is tongue-tied then, for therein his chief grace is,  
Whose Apish Tricks and Nods, with ducking low,  
The perfect Type of Vanity doth show,  
Whilst (capering for the nonce) his Coin must ijngle,  
His sole Attendance being his loathsome Ingle:  
Thinking he should be praised for his pied clothes,  
(For he no better parts (than these are) shows:)  
All such, I bar, and banish from my Book,  
Lest they profane it with unhallowed Look.  
Their musty Scoffs I bandy them again,  
As strucken Ball flies back from whence it came.  
These wry-mouthed Curs that bark, but dare not bite;  
(Their Mothers (but not Fathers) Children right;)  
I'll scourge from hence, and gaul them to the quick,  
Whilst on themselves, not me, they poison spit.  
But unto you (judicious) all Respect,  
Ass to the Scoffers Hate and base Neglect:  
Nor (if they are married) do I wish them worse,  
Then to be plagued with JEALOUSIES black Curse.  
And he that (causeless) with my Book finds fault,  
I will maintain with Vulcan's Crest doth halt;  
judge (mildly) with sober Discretion then,  
So shall you be like Angels, and not Men.  
R. T.   

TO THE NO LESS NOBLE, THAN FAIR, and yet not more fair than learned, the Lady GASPARA STAMPA.  
Chased, and matchless VIRGIN, I might justly be taxed to have forgot myself doubly, at one time: as well, concerning my bounden duty towards your beauteous self, as in respect of the many Deserts, which that great Scholar learned Varchi, doth merit, if I should not (without lingering or temporizing any longer) make a Present unto the world, of this his admirable and dainty conceited Lecture, shadowed under your sweet and much prized Name; for then, like a malicious forestauling Merchant, I should engross unto myself, that dear commodity of Praise, which is only due to such a worthy man alone, and like an unthankful person, show but little, or rather nothing at all, how much I am beholding unto you, as well in my thoughts, as in all other my proceedings whatsoever. Which Acknowledgement (although I must needs confess I am to blame therein) enuiting, and as it were, wooing me to make you some satisfaction for my backwardness in this point, to which your peerless Worth, and spotless Virtue draw me on, and not knowing what fit course to take (considering I have not (as now) any thing of mine own, worthy of your gracious acceptance) yet hath it been some comfort unto me, in that my mind giveth me, that this Discourse following shall be sufficient to show some part of my good meaning towards you: as likewise in some sort to satisfy the excellency of grave VARCHI'S self. And because I know that it is a mere vanity of such, as praising and extolling the Bounty and Goodness of God, imagine that by their many words (only) they shall be able to commend it the more; therefore I hiding and concealing the praises of VARCHI, and of Monsig Monsignor De la CASA, will only say, that they (both) will hold themselves sufficiently commended, when they shall understand, that this their much wished-for Treatise, shall be read and esteemed of, by such a praiseworthy Creature as is yourself, your admirable wit and sound judgement in every thing, being such as you far exceed any one of your sex, and therefore, counted one of our Italian Paragons, and that not unworthily. I therefore make bold, to present you with this deep and excellent Oration or Speech, and relying upon the wont Affability of your courteous Nature, desire to be commanded by the same always.  
FRANCISCO SANSOVINO.   

The lives of the Author of this Work, BENEDETTO VARCHI, and of FRANCISCO SANSOVINO, the publisher of the same, whose EPISTLE is before.  

BENEDETTO VARCHI, borne in Florence, (the chief City for Beauty and Wealth, in all Tuscanie) had to his Schoolmaster one Gasper Mar●scotto, of Maradi, (a small Town in Lombardie) who taught him as well Latin as Greek, but could not by any means endure his Scholars should read any Book in their own Mother Language. As he grew in years, so did he profit in Learning, and in his youthful time devoted himself unto the virtuous Service of a fair and learned Gentlewoman, called Gaspara Stampa, (as by the Epistle written before you may perceive) he making account of her, more for the beauty of her mind, than for that of her body; she being as much admired for her excellent Qualities, as any one Gentlewoman of her time in all Italy. He wrote many learned works, especially, that called L'HERCOLANO, where he discourseth of all Languages in general; but especially of the Excellency of the Tuscan tongue. He lived in good credit all his life time, being very gracious with Cosmo, Duke of Florence, and with the Signory of Venice: having a most bountiful pension from them, for being one of the chief Readers in their famous University of Padua; about which time (he being the Precedent of that learned Academic of the IMFIAMATIS there) delivered this Oration, in an honourable Assembly, before the Duke himself, and many other noble Personages, with great commendation, and kind applause of them all. But after this (being grown in years) he returned back into Tuscanie, his native Country, where after he had seen many fair and happy years: he died at a Summer-house he had, not far from Florence, leaving Thomazo Lenzo, Bishop of Fermo, and Girolamo Razzi, a Carthusian Friar, his Executors; and lieth buried in the Domo, the Cathedral Church of Florence.   

The Life of FRANCISCO SANSOVINO, the first Publisher of this Work in the Italian tongue.  
AS for FRANCISCO SANSOVINO, he also was a Florentine borne; and besides his Scholarship, was so notable an Architect, as for his skill he was surnamed Archa de Noah, The Ark of NOAH. He was of familiar acquaintance with this Author BENEDETTO VARCHI, and with a Brother of the foresaid Ladies, Gaspara Stampa, called Balthasar Stampa, (a Sonnet of which Gentlemen I have translated, and set down amongst mine other Notes, in the Description of Care. To conclude, this Francis Sansovino lived (in his youth) much in Rome, but growing in years, he came to Venice, where the Signory, employing him about their buildings of St. Mark, bestowed an ancient pension on him, during his life: he dying about the year 1570. He had a Kinsman about that time living in Florence, called jacomo Sansovino, so sincere and honest a man of life, as he was surnamed Spaeculum Florentiae, (the Mirror, or Looking-glass of Florence.) He died of the Gout, and was buried in the same Grave his Cousin Francis Sansovino was interred (who after his death was brought from Venice to Florence) in the famous Church of Saint john Baptist, (called in Italian Il Battesimo,) the Saint and Patron of the aforesaid City.    

To the Jealous Husband, upon this Translation by his kind Friend Mr. R. T.  
THou that believest no Female Virtue, Thou  
Which so good looks, and such false love canst show  
(Enough for fashion) but still doubtest thy friend,  
Lest to thy choicest Piece he make his end.  
Unhappy soul! that to what's Good art blind,  
That always seek'st, what thou fearest most to find.  
That run'st before thy Fair one in the street,  
So, with foul mouths, that thy sly ears may meet,  
Such as dare black the name of Goodness, such  
As ne'er speak true but when they say, 'tis too much,  
Thou shouldst enjoy what Fortune, not thy worth  
Hath given thee in her. Thou that ne'er go'st forth  
But with a longing to hear what they talk  
Of Euphys, Sophron, if they chance but walk,  
Through thy feigned kindness, to thy fairest home,  
And then art galled to hear some feigned doom  
Which may concern thy forehead, that's most free  
For them to philip, who most like thee be;  
That's such as know nor Virtue, neither can  
Nor wish to know; that have the name of Man  
Only because they Prate, or Get, or Tell  
The fortune of their Voyage, buy and sell;  
Can only these, and Fashion; or for worse,  
If any be, than he that's only Purse.  
And, were not Baseness by her virtue scorned,  
Lord how securely, Dyszel, thou'dst be horned.  
Thou that to 
* The God of Cuckolds Rabelais in Hist. Pantagruel lib. 3. chap. 33.  Coquage sacrificest, when  
The Calendar of Gods was made, 'mongst men  
Coquage was occupied, while jove assigned  
To all the other Gods what special kind  
Of Sacrifices, and what Place, what Day  
Their Tides should be on; none but he away  
No room in Heaven left him; Jove's Decree  
Was that he should with Goddess jealousy  
Partake in Tide, but that, on Earth alone,  
(Excluded Heaven) his Dominion  
Should be 'mongst those whose liberty was lost  
By Female union, but of all, those most  
Which blessed were with the Fairest, yet of them  
Only o'er such as sacrificed to him  
With fear, suspicion, searching, spies and doubt.  
None should his Godlike presence Grace without  
Such daily rites; no favour, help, or aid,  
To any from him, while those dues unpaid.  
But, as an Appanage, his Deity  
Should to the jealous still companion be.  
Thou that unable framest thy policy  
'Gainst the Braguettes, and with Treachery  
Vainly resists what the sweet sex would do  
With him they call on, great 
* Much worshipped in Sheeland, and his Castle Chapel, or Shrine is the Braguettes.  St. Balletron.  
Thou that deservest it, nor hadst so long missed  
What thou so seek'st for, if a Spagirist  
Could save her honours individual part,  
Yet give the blow, thou know'st, would never smart.  
You that are ne'er at rest but when you wear  
Hans Caruel's Ring. Thou eldest Child of Fear,  
That of thy Madness first by Varchi done  
See here made ours, to us our Friend alone  
Is as first AUTHOR. His desert must have  
What Censure to first Authors ever gave.  
I'll Incognito.   

The Censure of a Friend, upon this Translation, done by R. T. Gentleman.  
WHat of this Book the best Wits censure will,  
My reach of apprehension hath not skill  
To presuppose. The reason's ordinary:  
Because men's judgements with their Minds do vary:  
And for th'opinion of the Vulgar kind,  
(My self being one) they sure are of my mind,  
Who, if my sense makes not my censure err,  
This subject doth on each degree confer  
A benefit. The jealous here may view,  
(As in a Glass) what of himself is true.  
The Man or Wise from this pollution free,  
(For derestation thereof) here may see,  
The substance and success of jealousy.  
Unmarried Youth (of eythe sex) are here  
Prescribed a Caution, and a course to clear  
Themselves of this. The ancient may collect  
Prime Principles to dispossess Suspect,  
Not overgrown in any he or she,  
Discovering but th'Effects of jealousy.  
Thus have I th'Information of my wit,  
And shallow judgement spent in praise of it,  
Which here my Friend translates: if more be fit  
In laud of him (so that with truthed agrees)  
Thanks to the Writer, more than I, he sees.  
ANTH. MAR.   

To his Friend Mr. R. T. upon the Translation of this work.  

SO many write: some for the fame of Praise,  
And some their empty hours to entertain:  
That Books are held but in these later days,  
Th'abortive Issue of an idle Brain.   

And hence proceeds the general disesteem,  
The great Neglect of Learning and of Wit;  
When men prove not in action what they seem,  
But write their fancies rather than what's fit.   

Which Error thou observing, and our age  
Fallen into an incurable Disease,  
Walkest not with those in common Equipage,  
But writ'st as well to profit as to please.  
This little Book shows Wit and Learning to,  
A great deal more than greater Volumes do.   
W. L.   

GEntle Reader, Lynx's sight was not so sharp, but that now and then it over-saw; and Argus, for all his hundred eyes, was overtaken in the end: Be one never so curious or careful, yet may a man mistake. ●ome few faults have escaped in the Printing of this Book, as in fol. 34. for lusty read lazy: the rest I hope thine own discretion will guide thee to correct. And so fare thou well.   

THE BLAZON of Jealousy.  
EVen as the omnipotent and incomprehensible 
a God the beginning of all things (the IDEA and pattern of all Good and Goodness) is that Almighty Omnipotency, which wanteth Beginning and Ending, which being made of None, hath by his own power created all things: and as another saith excellent well; 
God is beyond frail sense to comprehend.  
He, first, began All, and of All is End.   HOLY ONE, is not alone the Author and Preserver of this universal world, and of every thing that moveth therein; but is (likewise) most glorious and most absolute, most blessed and most perfect, beyond all human belief and imagination; so hath he given and imparted to all creatures, (most Princely Duke, Honourable and Grave Senators, and ye my Fellows and Companions of 
b Amongst other laudable customs, used among the better sort of learned Gentlemen in Italy, their private Exercises, called ACADEMIES, are most commendable and praiseworthy, of which the INTRONATI of Sienna, the INFIAMMATIS of Padua, the GELOSIS of Rome, the PAZZI, the ZOPPIS, and such like, are of most fame and note: the manner whereof is after this sort. A certain number of Gentlemen (the best Scholars and Courtiers of such Cities, where they inhabit) draw themselves into a Society and Company together, whereof the Duke himself, or the chief Magistrate of that City is (always) one. These, once a week, at some hour set down, in the afternoon, assemble and meet in a goodly Hall, appointed for that purpose; where one of them mounteth up to a place called the Harangue, a little higher than the rest, and in his own natural language maketh an Oration of an hour long, of what Subject or Theme soever himself shall like best: this Orator having warning so to do, by an Officer, a pretty while before his day. For they choose every half year a Consul or chief Magistrate amongst them, who appointeth sundry men ●o the Harangue, for sundry days; and when the hour of their Assembly approacheth, all the Gentlemen of that Company repair to the Consul's house, bringing him honourably to his Chair, where he sitteth highest, although the Duke or chief Governor of that City be there present And these be the Gentlemen of the foresaid Academies, who in the Christmas and Carnovall time (termed by us Shrovetide) devise many rare shows & sports, presenting before the Ladies and Gentlewomen (there) excellent, witty, and pleasant conceited Comedies, with such like delightful Exercises, to their own no small commendations and credit, and to the wonderful applause and conteutment as well of their own Countrymen as of all other strangers whatsoever.  this flourishing ACADEMY of this most fervent and zealous INFIAMMATI,) not only a naked Substance or Being, by means whereof they only are; but moreover, a good and perfect Being, so far forth, as each one's nature is apprehensible and capable. And hereof it proceedeth that all things contend to be like the Creator, so far as they are able, and naturally covet and desire (above all) not only (simply) to exist and be, but farther also, to be perfect and hap●y, each thing in that, which best standeth with his own nature and quality.  
And because (as the 
c He meaneth Aristotle, (Disciple to Plato) who was an admirable singular witty man, inferior to None; Plato's Better in variety of knowledge, and all the world's Superior in disputation.  Philosopher saith in his Book, De Coelo) God and 
d Nature is that Spirit or divine Reason, which is the efficient. cause of natural works, and the preserving cause of those things that have being, through the only power of the heavenly Word.  Nature make not any thing in vain; therefore have all things their Means, Faculties, or Possibilities, as well to attain unto these two things, as to preserve and keep them: for as concerning their existence or being, they (generally) have a kind of promptness and inclination (as we may term it) from Nature herself, to defend and protect themselves (as much as their force will give them leave) from all such things as may offend, or corrupt them, any way.  
Now to do good, or to do well, they have likewise a kind of appetite or desire, through which instinct, they (all) covet, and seek, what is good, or (at least) that which they imagine to be good for them: As chose, they shun, and have in hatred, what, either is, or, which may be presupposed by them, to be hurtful, and bad, considering they are (many times) deceived before they be aware.  
Neither must we think, that the knowledge of the 
e The exterior Senses are the powers of the Soul and Body, and are in number five, viz. Seeing, Hearing, Smelling, Tasting and Touching: the right use of which may be set down thus; 

Look, but aright, and long but for your own.  
Hear all alike, and Trust, when Truth is known.  
Taste (but to feed) yet feed not (still to please.)  
Touch never more, than lawful is to seize.  
The Senses thus you (rightly) shall enjoy,  
Which (oft) makes many, Servants of annoy.    Senses, as well exterior, as interior, (as I may say) of living Creatures, was given them to any other end, but only for this, viz. that their judgements should either prick them forward to good, or else draw them back from that which is evil: and the Actions of these Faculties or Powers, which our 
f The Soul is a created Substance, invisible, incorporal, and immortal, resembling the Image of her Creator: Plato divideth the Soul into three parts, in his Timeus, placing Anger in the Heart, Concupiscence in the liver and Spleen, and Reason (the Lady and Governess of the work) in the Brain.  Souls have to follow such things, as do delight and help, or be loathsome and to be avoided, were called by the Latins, 
g Plato saith, that Affections in a man, are like Nerves or little Sinews or strings, whereby Nature draweth us forward into contraries, as themselves are contrary; but he that hath given his Reason (once) dominion over them, shall find their force of no effect worth esteeming: and to this purpose, one writeth very well thus: 
Sad perturbations, that Affections guide.  
Should not give judgement till their Cause were ●ride.   Affections or Perturbations of the 
h The Mind is that bright eye which guides the Soul, and governs men in all their actions whatsoever: and as one saith; 
The Mind hath in itself a Deity,  
And in the stretching Circle of the eye  
All things are compassed, all things present still.  
Will framed to power doth make us what we will.   Mind; but the Tuscans (following, in this, as in many other matters, the Grecians) term them 
i Passions are certain internal Acts or Operations of the Soul, bordering upon Reason and Sense, prosecuting some good thing, or flying some ill thing, causing (therewithal) some alteration in the Body.  Passions, because the whole mind (being troubled and stirred up through the same) doth suffer and endure. Now, of all the perturbations and passions, which have their Being & Breeding in the unreasonable part of our Souls, and which are chiefly 
k Viz. Love, Hate, joy and Sorrow; and they have four chief Governors, Reason, Patience, Time, and Experience.  four, (as I have discoursed, heretofore more at large in this place,) there is no question, but that 
l Love, according to Plato, is threefold; the first embraceth Virtue only; the second is infamous, which preferreth bodily pleasure; and the third is of the body and the soul: nothing more noble than the first, than the second nothing more vile: the third is equal to both. But this Love of which our Author now speaketh, is comprehended in these two lines only: 
Love is a Fiend, a Fire, a Heaven, a Hell,  
Where Pleasure, Paine, Grief, and Repentance dwell.  But he that will see a most lively description of this kind of Love, indeed, and more at large, let him read Mr, Michael Draitons Definition thereof, in The Flowers of English Parnassus.  LOVE above all the other three, is (by much odds) most potent and strong, as being that, from whom (if we consider thoroughly thereof) All the rest proceed, and therefore not without great reason, was it said of the Father and Prince of 
m Of Virgil it is said, that for his great learning and judgement, he encountered with Theocritus, vanquished Hesiodus, and ran the self-same race, as fairly and as well as Homer himself did.  Roman Poets: 
L'Amor vince tutte le cose.  
Love overcoming every thing,  
Under his proud subjection doth us bring.   
And the ancient Poets, and Theologitians of Greece, meant no other thing, by the mystical History of Paris (who leaving Pallas the Goddess of Wisdom, and juno the Lady of Wealth and Riches, took part with Venus, the Commandress of Beauty) but to show the marvelous, and incredible power of Love; because Love dominiereth over us, as doth our 
n The Stoics hold, that, only to be Will, when a thing is firmly and constantly desired, and therefore it is defined to be a Desire of any thing with Reason, which is in a wise man only; but that which is against reason, is called Lust, or an inordinate desire, being resident in all Fools: whereupon an English Poet, setting down the difference betwixt Will and Wit, writes thus: 
Will holds the royal Sceptre in the Soul.  
And o'er the Passions of the Heart doth reign.  
Wit, is the Minds chief judge, which doth control  
Of Fancies Court, the judgement false and vain.  
Will puts in practice what the Wit deviseth.  
Will ever acts, and Wit contemplates still:  
And as in Wit the power of Wisdom riseth,  
All other Virtues, Daughters are to Will,   Will, which draweth and forceth us unto his scope and drift: this his motion being most vehement, and more stirring than any other whatsoever; as well in respect of himself, (Love being most mighty and powerful) as also for that it groweth, and increaseth, with the good leave, the quick readiness, and best liking of our own will; so that it is no otherwise, than like that man, who is not alone fiercely spurred forward with a continual force, but (as it were) is urged thereunto, through his own willingness, maugre his own might, and as they say, quite against the hair.  
And certainly, were it not but that Nature, (who for many respects, is thought by divers, to be rather a 
o And yet there are four chief bridles by which Nature is kerbed, which are Want, Authority, Hope, and Fear.  cruel stepdame, than a kind and loving mother) had ordained that all our sweet meats should be (ever) seasoned with sour sauce, then doubtless should every one be most happy, but 
p To this sense, one imitating Ariosto (herein) saith thus: 
The joys of Lovers, if they still should last,  
Without Affliction, or Disquietness,  
That worldly Chances do amongst them cast,  
Would be on earth, too great a Blessedness;  
Liker to Heaven, than to mortal wretchedness.  
Therefore the winged God, to let them weete  
That here on earth is no true Happiness.  
A thousand sours hath tempered with one sweet,  
To make it seem more dainty, as is meet.   above all, loyal Lovers should be more blessed than the rest. But as no sweetness, no pleasure, nor happiness, are so delightful, so pleasant, nor so much desired, as that which proceedeth from Love; even so again, those bitter pills, those untolerable Griefs, and those disastrous Mischances, or rather Mischiefs, which fall out in Love, exceed (beyond all comparison,) all other Torments, and Tortures whatsoever, as they who have proved, and tried them, find it to be but overtrue, especially the 
q A Tragedy so called, presented by the Gentlemen of the ●●TRONATI, in Sienna, where all the Actors in the same, came to several unfortunate and disastrous ends.  Perottinian Lovers.  
Yet will I not deny, (but justify what I now speak, for a most constant truth) that all those disdainful Disgraces, but now spoken of, all those burning Martyring, all those insupportable Punishments; and to be brief, all those unspeakable bloody Passions in Love, (yea, were they (All placed in one body together) are nothiug, or rather, passing pleasing and sweet, in respect of that one damned Fear, or hellish Suspect, or rather uncurable Plague, and deadly Poison, cleped 
r Socrates saith, jealousy is a disease of the mind, proceeding from a Fear, which a man hath, lest that thing be communicated to another, which he would not (in any wise) have common, but private to himself.  jealousy: which (coupled together with Love,) is no other thing, than (as hath oftentimes been delivered in this place,) A certain eager and earnest Desire to enjoy the 
s Beauty (as a certain grave and learned Gentleman, our Countryman writeth) is nothing else, but a just proportion of the parts, with an apt correspondency in colours in these inferior bodies: of which Subiect● the immortal Muse, of our ever memorable SPENSER, singeth thus: 
Nought under heaven, so strongly doth allure  
The Sense of Man, and all his Mind possess,  
As Beauty's loveliest bait, that doth procure  
Great Warriors (oft) their Rigour to suppress,  
And mighty Hands forget their Manliness.  
Driven with the power of an Heart-robbing eye,  
And wrapped in Flowers of a golden Tress,  
That can with melting pleasance mollify  
Their hardened Hearts enured to Cruelty.   Beauty of one alone, by himself only. Of which Subject, not any Poet, either Latin or Grecian, (let it I beseech ye (noble Auditors) be lawful for me boldly to speak what I think) nor hath any other 
t He saith so, because, none have written at all (to speak of any thing to the purpose,) of this Subject before, and this (so much, as he termeth it) is only here and there a Stanzo of Ariosto's, in his Orlando Furioso: and this one Sonnet of Monsig or Dela Casa, commented upon by this Author: but now of late a Countryman of mine, although a stranger unto me, called Mr. George Whither, hath penned divers witty satires, whereof one is of this Subject, which you may read in his Abuses stripped and whipped.  discoursed thereon (so much) or so learnedly, as two rare, and (as I may say) divine Wits of this our Age have done; the first of which, and the most ancient, was that learned and judicious Mr. 
u 
Lodovicus Ariosto, borne in Rheggio, a town subject to the Dukedom of Ferrara, wrote that famous work ORLANDO FURIOSO, in honour of Cardinal Hippolito d' ESTA, his Lord and Master, (whom he then followed,) besides divers other Books, as his Comedies, Tragedies, and satires; which satires I translated into English Verse, with Notes upon the same; although, unknown to me, they were set forth in another man's name. In his later time, being somewhat discontented, he withdrew himself privately home to his own house, where after he had continued a few years, he died of a pain in his stomach, and was buried in S. Bennets Church in Ferrara, where he hath a fair Monument of white Marble, with his Statue erected thereupon, and this Epitaph:  
Lodovico Ariosto Poetae, Patritio Ferrariensi, Augustinus Mustus tanto viro, ac de se bene merenti Tumulum & Effigiem Marmoreum are proprio posset. Ann. Dom. 1571. Alfonzo secundo Deuce.  

Hic ARIOSTVS est situs qui Comico  
Aures Theatri sparsit urbanus sale,  
Satiraque mores strinxit acer improbos:  
Heroa cultu, qui FURENTEM carmine   

Ducumque curas cecinit atque praelia,  
Vates Corona dignus unus triplici,  
Cui trina constant quae fuere vatibus,  
Graijs, Latinis, vixque Hetruscis singula.   
Natus est Ariost. 1474. Vixitannos. 59 Obijt anno salutis, 1533. Idus 8. julij. But if you will know his whole life more at large, then read the foresaid English satires, where you shall be satisfied at the full.   Lodouic● Ariosto of Ferrara; and the other is the reverend, Lord, Giovanni, surnamed 
x This man was both a Philosopher and a Poet, borne not far from Florence, and living within the memory of man. He wrote many Sonnets in praise of a fair Gentlewoman, his Mistress, called DIANA, of the house of the Salviati in Florence; and a Treatise in Prose of Good Manners, (cleped Galateo) much in request amongst the Italians. He was very inward with Cardinal Bembo, Speren Sperove, Benedetto Varchi, and other learned men of his time, with whom he conversed (for a certain time) in Venice, in the interim of which, he wrote an excellent Oration (penned in the behalf of Horatio, Grandchild to Pope Paul the third, of the house of the Farnesis in Rome) who petitioned with the same, to the Emperor Charles the fifth, that he might succeed Peter Luigi his father, in the Dukedom of Parma and Piacenza, (as afterward he did) the Emperor commending highly the foresaid Oration. This Giovan de la Casa, held Petrar●q to be a better Poet than Dant, contrary to the opinions of most Scholars in those days. To conclude, he growing in years, returned back to Florence, where he died of the pain of the Colic, and in the 62 year of his age, & lieth buried in the Certosi, a Sumptuous Monastery, not far from Florence  De la Casa. The one in his first Stanza of his 31. Canzon of his Orlando Furioso, The other in a Sonnet of his own, no less grave, then learned, and as dainty, as every way witty, which he made in the prime of his young and blooming years: which Sonnet, I (following the laudable custom of this most flourishing Academy) and to show my devoted Affection, and duteous Service, unto you (most Royal Prince) have made choice of (this day) to explain and expound at large, according unto that small Talon, which it hath pleased the Almighty Power to bestow upon me.  
To commend, as is reason, and were but fitting, the Bounty and Learning of this our Author; his own Greatness, and mine Insufficiency, his discreet Modesty, and native Country (common unto us Both) forbid me to say what I should, although I am not ignorant, but that as well the one, as the other, is known unto the maior part of you here present: part also, shall you perceive thereof, by this his admirable Sonnet, which whilst I repeat, and make plain, vouchsafe of your accustomed gentleness (as your courteous nature is wont to do) with still attention to give me the hearing.  

SONETTO.  

CURA, che di timor ti nutri, & cresci,  
Et tosto fede à tuoi sospetti acquisti,  
Et mentre con la fiammail gelo mesci,  
Tutto'l regno d'Amor turbi, & contristi.  
Poi che in brieu'hora entro'l mio dolc' hai misti  
Tutti gli'amari tuoi, de'l mio cor esci,  
Torna à Cocito, à, i lagrimosi, & tristi  
Ghiacci d'Inferno, iui' à te stessa incresci.  
Iui senza riposo, i giorni mena,  
Senza sonno le notti, ivi ti duoli  
Non men di dubbia che di certa pena.  
Vattene: à che piu fiera, che not suoli,  
S'el tuo velen m'è c●rso in ogni vena,  
Con nuoue Larue, à me ritorni, & voli!   

CARE, thou that nourishest thyself, o'er bold  
With Fear, increasing still, and soon d●st g●●e  
Credit, to thy suspicions, whilst chill cold  
Thou minglest with a hot and burning Flame;  
By which thou all the Kingdom of mild Love  
Dost trouble, heavy make, and too much move:   

Since thou so soon upon my sugared Sweet  
Hast mixed thy bitter Drugs, hence from my Heart,  
Turn back to Cocytus, and to those Icies Deep,  
Those sad, and woeful waters, full of smart;  
Pack (hence) to Hell, thou worse than hellish Elf,  
There, vex, torment, and gall thine inward self▪   

There (without rest) prolong thy weary days;  
There, let thy nights, withouten sleep be spent;  
There torture still, and grieve thyself (always)  
As well with doubtful, as sure punishment:  
Fret thine own bowels forth, stamp, stare, be mad,  
Be ever heavy, never blithe, nor glad.   

Dispatch, begone; why fiercer than before,  
And far more stronger, than thou wontst to be,  
(Since venom thine, to poison me the more,  
Through every vain dispersed is in me.)  
Dost thou return (afresh) in shadows new,  
The more to make me still to wail and rue?    
THe Subject of this high and Egelike Sonnet, which is both for the Conceit, the Words, and the Order of the Verse, solemn and grave, and replete, full of a kind of religious and compassionate Indignation and Anger; seemeth to me, that it is willing to instruct, and declare (no less according unto the truth, and like a wise 
y A Philosopher, according to Cic●roes definition, is a Lover of Wisdom, and one that is learned in the knowledge and understanding of the Arts and Sciences which is the mother of all Virtue & Perfection: the Greek Monuments recording two kinds of Philosophers. The Italian●● out of that part of Italy, whilom called Magna Gretia, and the Ionian in the Country now called Grece; Pithag●ra● of Samos, being the first Author of the name of Philosophers.  Philosopher, then 
z There are seven kinds of Poetizing, in the Florenti●● tongue, as this our Author reporteth in his Italian Herc●l●no. The first and principal is that of Dant and Petrarcq: the second, of Luigi, and Lucas Pu●cio (brethren●) the third, as Burchiello wrote (for he also was a Poet:) the fourth, the chapters of Ber●ia: the fifth, the Sonnets of An●on● Alleman●●●: and besides these five, there are two, to sing Pastorals; the one in left, as that called N●ncia, di Lorenzo de Medici's, and that Became, of Lewis Pulci; and another in truth and in good earnest: and this also is divided into two parts, for some write Eglogs, in loose Verse, and the other in Verse, ending in meeter or rhyme: and this also is done two manner of ways▪ e●ther with ordinary versifying, or with that long kind of smooth, sliding, and running Rim●, which S●nazar used in his Writings and is in Italian called Sdursciol●.  Poetically, with great 
* Invention is an 〈◊〉 ●hat hath more of the Wit, Imitation of the Will, yet Imitation cometh short of Inue●●●●● 〈◊〉 though Invention is the most dangerous of both.  Invention and Skill) what thing jealousy is, whence it springeth, how it is nourished, and what a wicked, and hurtful plague it is. And this he showeth, by the Effects, and Accidents of the same, which being more apparent, and better known unto us, (than the Occasions and Substance thereof) will stand us in great stead (as testifieth Aristotle in his first Book De Anima, to learn us to know, of what nature and condition it is: and therefore he feigneth (or perhaps because it was so indeed) to discharge, and to drive from him, that frightful Monster, and infernal Fury, which with her sad and black poison, had very much troubled him, in his Business, turning all his amorous sweetness into sour and hateful bitterness. Neither gave she over, (as if it had been but a small thing to vex him every hour,) but rather became more grievous, and troublesome (continually) unto him. And although this Sonnet, might be divided into two especial parts, yet for our more ease, and for the better understanding thereof (because the matter is very difficult and hard) we will divide it into four Stanza's:  
The first thus: 

a Of Care one prettily and briefly writes thus: 
Men die, and human kind doth pass away,  
Yet Care, that makes them die, doth ever stay.  And mine old Acquaintance and Friend, Mr. Henry Cunnestable, having set down this Passion in her right colours, I could not choose but acquaint the Reader therewith. 
Care, the consuming canker of the mind.  
The Discord that disorders sweet Hearts tune.  
Th'abortive Bastard of a Coward's kind,  
The lightfoot Lackey, that runs post to death,  
The busy Advocate that sells bis breath,  
Denouncing worst to him, that is his Friend.   CARE, thou that nourishest thyself (o'er bold)  
With Fear, increasing still, and tootoo soon dost gain  
Credit, to thy suspicions, whilst chill cold  
Thou minglest with a hot and burning Flame,  
By which, thou, All the Kingdom of mild Love  
Dost trouble, heavy make, and too much move.   
In this first part, in which the four things (before specified) are contained, our Poet, no less learnedly than briefly, speaketh to JEALOUSY, and most artificially calleth her, not by her direct and plain name, but useth a Periphrasis here, and setteth down a description of her, saying; Care, thou that nourishest thyself, etc.  
And this course did Ariosto take in his first Stanza, of his 31. Canto, who before he delivered her proper name, branded her with five villainous words, every one of them being worse than other; and thus he ranked them, as it were in battle array: 
b Suspicion is a certain doubtful timorousness of the mind, detaining the heart most fearfully, with sundry Affections and uncertain proceedings, according to this saying: 
Suspect bewrays our thoughts, betrays our words,  
Wounds Hearts like sword, and nought but Grief affords.   Suspicion, 
c Fear is twofold, Good and Evil; Good Fear is that which is grounded upon a good discourse of Reason, and Argument, standing in awe of blame, reproach and dishonour, more than of Grief or Death: Evil Fear is destitute of Reason, and is that which we call Cowardliness or Pusillanimitié, always attended upon with two perturbations of the Soul, Fear and Sadness: and of this sort is this whereof the Author speaketh, whereupon one saith well to this purpose. 
Fear is defect of manly Fortitude,  
Continually, by Dread and Doubt pursued.  Montagnie also saith, it is so strange a Passion, that as Philosophers affirm, there is none doth sooner transport our judgement out of his due seat, than this doth: and to this purpose one saith thus: 
Fear is more pain, than is the pain it fears,  
Disarming human minds of Nature's might,  
Where each conceit an ugly figure bears,  
Which were not Evil, well viewed in Reason's sight.   Fear, 
d Martyring is a kind of inward painful Conceit or Thought, that vexeth and galleth as well the body as the mind of man most feelingly, not unlike a martyring kind of sensible rack or torture.  Martyring, 
e Frenzy is a distemperature of the brain, through some so deign affrighting or inward conceit, but Madness is a furious passion, that taketh away the right Senses and Wits for ever, whereupon one writeth thus: 
This bedlam Madness for forerunner sends  
Mannie & Frenzy, to suborn her Friends,  
Whereof the one drying, the other over-warming  
The feeble brain (the edge of judgement harming)  
Within the Soul fantasticqly they fayne  
A confused Host of strange chimaera's vain.   Frenzy, and Madness.  
But because every one of these four Verses, are full of learning, and all the difficulty and hardness consisteth in this first part of the Sonnet, we therefore for your better understanding (therein) will explain one Verse after another, with as great case as we may, and after the best manner we can devise.  Care, thou that nourishest thyself, o'er bold, etc. 
Considering that in these first four Verses he defineth, or rather describeth what JEALOUSY is; and there being two manner of Distinctions, the one, which declareth her name, the other, which showeth her nature: pleaseth it you first to understand that this Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, compounded of two words, (from whence 
f Three things (saith one) breeds jealousy; a mighty State, a rich Treasure, and a fair Wife. This Fiend, a quondam kind Acquaintance of mine, Mr. Thomas Watson, painteth forth very lively in these Verses: 
Pale JEALOUSY, child of insatiate Love,  
Of Heartsick Thoughts which Melancholy bred,  
A Hell tormenting Fear, no Faith can move,  
By Discontent with deadly poison fed,  
With heedless youth, and Error vainly led,  
A mortal Plague, a Virtue drowning Flood,  
A hellish Fire, not quenched but with Blood.   Gelosia, that is, JEALOUSY, cometh in our language) signifieth no other thing, than a certain Emulation, or an Envy, of Form, or Beauty: which name it seemeth that the Latins want. 
* Definitions of JEALOUSY.  True it is that that famous Orator Mark Tully, translated it Obtrectatio, and defined it to be a Passion, wherewith some one man is possessed, lest another, should hold and enjoy that which he, only coveteth to possess and keep alone. Others affirm, that JEALOUSY is a certain suspicion which the Lover hath, of the party he chiefly loveth, lest she should be enamoured of another. A third sort there is, that saith, JEALOUSY is a fearful and timorous suspicion or Doubt in the Lover, lest the Woman whom he affecteth, and whom he would not have to be common with any other man, should lend her body unto another. All which three are in effect one, and the self-same thing, but yet particularly, and not universally, as the right and perfect definitions use to be set down, because they comprehend that Party only, which is jealous, by reason of his own desire and proper longing or coveting; that is, that he might (alone) enjoy, what he most wished for; as if there were no jealousy to be had of our Daughters, Mothers, Sisters, or others, either she kindred or Friends, which are left in our Custody, Wardship, and Protection, and whom we desire to have (not to enjoy them ourselves) but lest some other, whom we mislike or disdain, should (against our wills, and to the disparagement of our Honour) get possession and interest in them. 
The Authors defining of JEALOUSY.  And therefore we will say that JEALOUSY is a certain Fear or Doubt, lest any one whom we would not, should enjoy a Beauty that we make account of; and, this, for two Reasons, either because we ourselves would enjoy the same alone, or else, that such a one as we like and desire, might have the sole fruition and possession thereof. Now there is no doubt but that 
g Envy is a vice that inflicteth those most extremely, that use itmost, and it (immediately) succeed Pride, by nature; for a proud man so loveth himself, that he grieves that any should excel him, which when he cannot avoid, than he envies them: and this is the difference betwixt Hatred and Envy; Hate extendeth to Some, Envy to All, whereupon one saith: 
Envy is nothing else but grief of mind,  
Conceived that Others Happiness do find:  
'Tis Honour's shame, and Glories secret Foe,  
Whose Fruits are Hate, Despite, sad Grief and Woe.   JEALOUSY is a Spice or Species of Envy, and although it followeth not of necessity, that wheresoever Envy is, there jealousy should be, yet is it necessary, that wheresoever JEALOUSY is the Precursor, there Envy must be the Follower always, as that which is a living Creature, is not a man, and yet every man is a living Creature. Whereupon Plato defineth a jealous man to be one, that hath an envy or malice towards another, by reason of some amorous suspicion, which he conceiveth against him. And for this cause (perhaps) our non-paraleld Poet Petrarcq in one of his sweet Sonnets, saith thus: 

Liete & pensose, accompagnate, & sole,  
Donne, cheragionando ite per via;  
Oue, è la vita oue la morte mea, etc.   

Fair Ladies, ye, who talking up and down this way,  
Pleasant and sad, accompanied, yet (alone) I see,  
Ah, tell me, where's my Life? where is my Death I pray?  
Why, is she (now) not here? as she was wont to be.   

Pleasant we are, when her we call but to our mind:  
Sad, that, we cannot have her wished-for Company,  
Whom ENVY and bad JEALOUSY do stay behind,  
Whom neighbours good, more than their own mishap makes cry.   

But who can Lovers bridle? who Laws can them give?  
None can the Mind restrain. Anger and deep Despite  
The Body for a while (perhaps) may vex and grieve,  
Which (now) on Her, and (then) on Me doth often light.   

Yet if the Countenance be the Heart's bright mirror true  
(As oft it is) then did we see her Beauty fair,  
To be eclipsed, whilst we her lovely Eyes did view  
Tears to distill from Limbeck of sad Care,  
My comfort's this, in me fault was there none,  
'Twas dread of lewd Tongues made her stay at home.    
Although (as sometimes after the Poetical manner) he maketh his LAURA to be enamoured of her own self, like another Narcissus, and so hides herself from him, as in this Sonnet of his; beginning, Il mio Auersario, in cui videre solete, etc. 

My mortal Foe, in whom you wont were to see  
Your diamond eyes, which heaven & love do honour much  
Not with his Beauty, (but your own) makes you to be  
Enamoured; 'tis so rare, so sweet, of Virtue such:   

(Lady) by his advise you have casshiered me,  
(A woeful Exile, from that lovely Lodge of mine)  
Although I yield myself unworthy for to be  
Placed; where you sit crowned with Favour most divine.   

But had I been (as you made show) dear in your Love,  
methinks a paltry Looking-glass in my disgrace  
Should not have made you half so proud, as to remove  
Your fancy from me, which you on yourself (now) place.   

Assure you, if you think but on Narcissus' fall,  
Your Destiny, and his, are like to be all one,  
Although the ground (when you turn to a Flower) shall  
Unworthy be for to enjoy so rare a One.  
Remember Pride's the root of every sin:  
Rather be Courteous, so you praise shall win.   And in that delightful and pretty Canzon, which beginneth, 
SH' el pensier chi mi struggi  
Come è pungente & saldo, etc.  

If th'amorous Thought of mine that vexeth me.  
As it is fierce, bad colour like the same,  
Perhaps my Body then should heated be,  
And I should Partner be, in that loves Flame,  
That Flame of Love which now doth sleep in her  
(May chance) would then begin in me to stir.   

If so, I then should not so idly live,  
I then (abroad) should wait and on her tend;  
Nor I so much with weeping (then) should grieve,  
And Heat, not Cold, from me should still ascend:  
I should be turned into nought but Fire,  
The Brand of Love, the Torch of hot Desire.   And in that Disticq. of his: 

See force ogni sua gioia,  
Nell suo bel viso è solo.   

If all her joy and chief delight  
Be only in her Countenance bright. etc.    
So likewise this Poet (in another place) maketh her jealous again of her own self: which self-same course, the learned 
h Francis Maria Molza, borne in Modena in Lombardie, was one of the best Scholars of his time, as well for Prose as Verse. He was a retainer to that great Cardinal Alexander Farnesis, of whom it is constantly reported, that by his great power, wealth, and friends, he could have made whom he pleased Pope, in any sede vacant, but for himself, he was never able to do the same, so much was he doubted and feared, because of his huge means and great authority he had in Rome. Of this jolly Cardinal then, was this Molza (as I said) a Follower, who bestowed a bountiful pension on him during his life, as he did on many others beside. He was buried in Modena with this Epitaph: 
Qui lepido Veteres cantavit carmine MOLZA,  
Hic jacet aetatu maximu● huius honos.   Molza taketh, in the end of a certain witty Sonnet of his, where he wishing and advising his Mistress, that she should be content, and endure to be eyed and marked of others, and not stand overlong prying and gazing in her Glass, he (calling her his glorious Sun) concludeth after this sort; 
Voi non doureste haver tanta paura,  
Ne, l'essere guardata, da chi u'ama.  
You need not thus to stand in so great fear,  
Nor to be watched, so by him that loves you dear,  
As if you doubted, (as it seems to me)  
That by your own self you should stolen be.   
But leaving (for this present time) to speak any thing at all of that kind of JEALOUSY, which Parents have of their Daughters, Brethren of their Sisters, and of the like by blood and Alliance, near and dear unto them: and reasoning only of that which is incident to Lovers only, 
jealousy of Lovers, threefold.  I say that they may be jealous three manner of ways; and that JEALOUSY may be taken after three several fashions: 1. Either when we would not have, that any one should obtain, that which we ourselves have already gotten: 2. Or that which we wish and desire to obtain: 3. Or which we have laboured and endeavoured, following it in chase, and yet could never gain the same. Now this JEALOUSY springing from our own covetous mind and proper greediness to have such a thing, is after a fourfold manner, viz. By reason 

1 Of Pleasure.  
2 Of Passion.  
3 Of Property or Right.  
4 Of honour.    
JEALOASIE cometh of 
i Pleasure is of two sorts; one is said to be of honest & good things, and the other of dishonest. In respect of honest things it is called voluntas, but in respect of dishonest, it is called voluptas, therefore very wittily saith one to this purpose. 
Pleasures, like p●asting guests, make but small stay.  
Where Griefs bide long, and leave a score to pay.   Pleasure, when we estimate and prize the 
k There be two sorts of Delight, Sensual and Intellectual. Sensual, which taketh his source from Sense and Passion; and Intellectual, which draweth his original from the Understanding and the Will.  delight we take in the Party we love, at so high a rate, as we would engross it wholly unto ourselves, and when we think, or imagine, it will decrease and wax less, if it should be communicated, or lent unto another: and in this point, in my conceit, Tibullus, the Poet, speaketh most divinely (as most commonly he doth in all his Writings) but especially in that excellent Elegy of his, where he beginneth thus: 
Quid mihi, sifuer as teneros laesuros amores,  
Foedera per Divos clam violanda dabas?  
Art thou a faithful Friend and seekest  
To cheat me of my Love?  
And break'st (in private) Friendships Bonds,  
Confirmed by Gods above?   
And in those other no less sweet than dainty Disticques beginning after this manner: 

Semper, ut inducar, blandos offers mihi vultus,  
Post, tamen, es, misero, tristis & asper Amor.  
Quid tibi sevitiae est mecum? an gloria magna est  
Infidias homini composuisse Deum?   

To toll me in, and draw me on,  
Most cunning art thou (LOVE,)  
Sweet meat (at first) but afterward  
Sour sauce thou mak'st me prove,  
Why shouldst to me thus cruel show?  
What credit ist for thee?  
A God to entrap a silly wretch,  
Think'st thou 'twill Glory be?    
This Latin Verse is so pleasing, as I could not choose but translate it into our Italian Tongue, applying it to our purpose, after this manner: 
Sempre acciò ch'io piu volontier m'inuecchi,  
Con lieti risi, & gratiosicenni,  
Dolcement da prima (Amor) m'adeschi,  
Ma poscia (lasso) come tuo divonni,  
Si mi governi giorno, & not ch'io,  
Altro che danno, & duol may non sostenni,  
A che sei tanto in me spietato & rio?  
E però gloria tall con sorza, e'nganni,  
Tender laccivoli ad huom mortal' è Dio? etc.  
The better for to bring me to thy Lure,  
And as thy prize and pray to get me sure,  
(LOVE) thou, at first, dost lay thy tising bait  
Most cunningly, to catch me with doceit:  
Sweetly and mildly, thou dost set thy gin,  
By s●gre●● smiles and looks to draw me in:  
But (woe i● me) no sooner am I caught,  
But that I find to danger I am brought.  
Thine Entertainment day and night is such,  
As makes me grieve and sorrow overmuch:  
Why art so spiteful, and incensed 'gainst me,  
When better guerdoned I deserve to be?  
No doubt great glory shall to thee redound,  
When it abroad shall everywhere be found,  
A mighty God, a silly man did catch  
Within his Nets, by force and subtle fetch.   
jealousy proceedeth from 
l This Passion may be rightly termed some timorous conceit, or strange kind of Fear, such Fear commonly bringing much grief to the mind, as one saith to this purpose, thus: 
Passionate Fear still taketh her delight  
In peril, which exceedeth perils might.   Passion, when we covet to enjoy or possess that which we most love and like, wonderfully fearing lest we should lose the possession thereof, as if our Mistress should become a secret sweet Friend unto another man: and in this pitiful 
m When JEALOUSIE once siezeth on such weak and resistless souls (as Propertius was) it is pitiful to see, how cruelly it tormenteth, & how insultingly it tyrannizeth over them, for of all the minds diseases, that is it, where to most things serve for sustenance, but fewest for remedy; such a furious perturbation, and moody Agitation it is, which throweth them into Extremities, altogether contrary to the cause.  perplexity and case was Propertius, as may appear, when he made this mournful and mestfull Elegy; beginning thus: 
Eripitur nobis iampridem cara Puella,  
Et tu me lachrymas fundere (Amice) vetas?  
My Wench is gone and stolen away,  
Whom I did love so dear,  
And art my Friend, and yet forbidst,  
That I from tears forbear?   
Thirdly, JEALOUSY springeth from the 
n Property or Right, is a kind of Interest or Claim, which one challengeth to any thing as his own, and as peculiar & proper to himself, and wherein no other can (truly) demand any share or part. Yea, so peremptory are some men in this point (especially if they know they may lawfully challenge this high prized commodity of Love as their own, and that they have paid for the same,) as they have cast off their Wives, and Mistresses, only upon a mere suspicion, or scandalous report of a malicious & backbiting tongue, the poor women being in no fault at all, but their own fantastic and jealous Conceits and Humours, for who can stop a slanderous speech when it is once spread abroad? since who knoweth not, that, 
Reports▪ at random run, whilst Truth they miss.  
And s●y●onne ●onne to ' a L●ar counted is.  And such a one was a certain Gentleman, a friend of mine, who upon a false surmise and giddy Toy that troubled his br●ine, forsook a fair Gentlewoman (his Mistress,) not so much as once vouchsafing or enduring to hear how she could excuse and answer for herself: he being so peremptory in his opinion, that because she was thought to be false unto him, therefore she must be needs so indeed, as you may perceive by these few Verses, being part of a bitter Letter he sent her, which you shall find at the end of this Book, and these be they: 
And where to witness thou dost call  
(For thy true faith) the Heavens all,  
I tell thee (Dame) the Wench that I  
Shall like for mine own company,  
Shall not alone, right honest be,  
But from suspicion shall be free:  
That all may say, she hath no Fault,  
No not so much as she can halt.  So you may perceive by this, he would have her more fortunate than any other; for what Woman or Man is there, almost living, but that hath been either suspected, scandalized, or ill spoken of by one lewd tongue or another: And it is but too true, considering, 
What Malice likes not, strait dispraised must be,  
For Slander's blind and cannot Virtue see.  
Lies, Slander, flattery, Birds are of one feather,  
Forsworn false Friends they are, and dwell together.   Property or Right that we have, when we (enjoying our Lady or Mistress) would have her solely and wholly unto ourselves; without being able (by any means) to suffer or endure, that another man should have any part or interest in her, any way, or at any time: and to this purpose doth the foresaid Poet write, exceeding well, to Lin●●us, his fellow Poer, (an old smell-smock, and an ancient acquaintance and familiar friend of his) who (belike) being more forward in this amorous Business than the other could have wished; Propertius takes exceptions against him for the same, and withal, earnestly entreats him to give over the Game he had in chase, as in this Elegy following, you shall find more at large: 

Tumihi vel ferro pectus, vel perde veneno,  
A Domina tantum te modo tolle mea;  
Te socium vitae, te corporis esse licebit,  
Te Dominum admitto rebus (Armices) meis,  
Lecto te solum, lecto te deprecor uno,  
Rivalem possum nin ego ferre iovem.   

Stab me with Sword, or Poison strong  
Give me to work my bane,  
So thou court not my Lass, so thou  
From Mistress mine refrain,  
Command myself, my Body, Purse,  
(As thine own Goods) take All,  
And as my nearest, dearest Friend,  
I (ever) use thee shall:  
Oh spare my Love, to have (alone)  
Her, to myself I crave,  
'Swounds jove himself I'll not endure  
My Rival for to have.    
And so puissant and potent is this our desire, which we have to enjoy that Party (which we love) solely and alone, without the society and company of any other whatsoever, as that (many times) when this our high-prised Commodity chanceth to light into some other merchants hands, and that this our private Enclosure proveth to be a Common for others, we care no more for it, but give it altogether over, quite extinguishing and quenching in us, not alone the jealousy we had of the same, but likewise the hot love and affection we bore it before, as Ovid in his second Book of his amorous Elegies, speaketh in a manner to the same effect, when he saith thus: 
Quod licet ingratum est, quod non licet acrius urit,  
Ferreus est, si quis quod finit alter amet.  
What's lawful, base; what's hard to get,  
More eager doth us move:  
Senseless, that suffereth others court  
His Wife, yet her will love.  And in another place thus: 
Pinguis Amor nimiumque potens, in taedia nobis  
Vertitur, & stomaco dulcis ut esca nocet.  
Too much of easy yielding Love  
My mind doth soon annoy,  
Too much of common dainty Fare  
The Stomach (still) doth cloy.  In a third, thus: 
Quin alium, quem tanta juuat patientia quaere,  
Me tibi Rivalem, si juuat esse veta.  
So many Suitors to endure,  
Thy patience showeth too base,  
Another seek, as Rival now,  
For to supply my place.   
Lastly, JEALOUSY cometh in respect of a man's 
o Honour, is the Reputation and Credit, or the good name and Fame, of a Man, which the generous Spirit prizeth, at so high a rate, as before he will have the same eclipsed, he will lose all his wealth, yea, and his dearest life to, according unto the saying of a certain grave and wise Gentleman: 
Untainted HONOUR (not long life) the treasure is  
Which noble Minds do hold to be their chiefest bliss.   Reputation and Honour, according as his nature is, or as his Breeding hath been, or after the fashion and manner of the Country, in which he is borne and liveth, because (in this point) divers are the opinions of men, and as contrary are the Customs of Countries, whereupon they say, that the 
p The Persians were wont to be so jealous of their Wives, as they never suffered them to go abroad, but in Wagons close shut; but at this day the Italian is counted the man that is most subject to this vice, the sallow complexioned fellow, with a black beard, being he that is most prone, as well to suspect, as to be suspected about women's matters, according to the old saying: 
To a Red man read thy Read,  
With a Brown man break thy Bread,  
At a Paleman draw thy Knife,  
From a Black man keep thy Wife.  Which we expound after this manner: 
The Red is wise, the Brown trusty,  
The Pale envious, and the Black lusty.   Southern Nations, and such as dwell in hot Regions are very jealous; either because they are much given and inclined unto Love naturally: or else for that they hold it a great disparagement and scandal, to have their Wives, or their Mistresses tainted with the foul blot of Unchastity: which thing those that are of contrary Regions, and such as live under the North-Pole, take not so deep at the heart, and therefore we may perceive that this our Poet, hath done excellent well, to call and as it were define JEALOUSY, to be 
q That JEALOUSY, in a manner, is no other thing than a kind of suspicious CARE, or a careful kind of SUSPICION: this Sonnet following (penned by an Italian Gentleman) and seeming, (as it were) to be done in imitation of the Author's Mounsignior de la Casa, aforesaid) showeth as much; which because it is annexed unto this Work of Benedetto Varchies, I thought good to translate into English thus: 
CURA, che sempre vigilant é desta, etc.  

CARE, who as vigilant, dost always watch,  
Persuading me to what is worse than ill,  
And seekest my pensive Heart still for to catch,  
To force him yield to thy accursed will,  
Making me lead a heavy woeful life,  
Whereas (before) Pleasures with me were rife.   

Bane to my sweetest Thoughts, thou gloomy storm,  
That all my Hopes and best Times overthrows:  
Why with Suspicious new mak'st me forlorn?  
Why dost thou vex my mind with wicked woes?  
Why dost thou gall me more and more each hour,  
To wreak thy vengeance on me through thy power?   

O Monster fierce, more Fierce than monstruous!  
O Pestilent plague of loyal Lovers true!  
What hellish Fiend, what hag most furious  
From that deep horrid Cave, thee (hither) drew?  
Why in so hideous shape dost thou appear?  
To torture me, and spoil my pleasures here?   

Pack hence, away, thy power thoust too much shown,  
And therefore mestfull jack, with trembling Fear  
Shall write the Sorrows which through thee are grown,  
And woeful plaints which in my Breast I bear.  
(Damned JEALOUSY) I'll blaze thee, Herauld-like,  
That all the world may loathe thee with despite.    CARE, that is, a Thought or Passion which proceedeth and leadeth on Fear, which is as much to say, as if it came of Dread and Suspect. And by this phrase of speech he giveth us to understand from whence it springeth, because (as the 
r Well may Aristotle be termed the Prince of Philosophers, since (as that famous Auerrois writeth) Nature meant (when Aristotle was borne) to show the utmost proof of all her strength and power, so that what was possible for a mortal man to know, so much did he understand.  Prince of Philosophers teacheth us) we are easily and best nourished with that with which we are borne.  
Neither doth he think it sufficient to have said thus much, but he addeth beside, (Cresci, thou growest or increasest) which word no doubt is set down by him, with great and excellent judgement, by reason that JEALOUSY may (as other like Qualities) increase or diminish, and it increaseth or diminisheth through four things, 
jealousy increaseth or decreaseth.  or means, to wit, 1. According to the Persons: 2. According to the Places: 3. According to the Times: 4. And lastly, according to the Businesses taken in hand.  
The persons, by means whereof JEALOUSY increaseth or decreaseth, are in a manner always three.  

1 The Party that is jealous. 
Three Persons which increase jealousy.   
2 His Mistressee, over whom he is jealous.  
3 The Person whom he suspecteth, and therefore is jealous of him.   
Concerning the Party that is jealous: such as know themselves to be 
s Indeed I am of opinion, that the most worthless persons are always most subject to this infectious Disease of jealousy, as Mr. George Whither rightly saith. 
There is None jealous I durst pawn my life,  
But he that hath defiled another's Wife:  And commonly, Mala Mens malus Animus, An ill Disposition breeds an ill Suspicion. 
And for that he himself hath gone astray,  
He straightway thinks his Wife will tread that way.  The best counsel therefore I can give to these kinds of suspicious Brains, is to possess their souls with patience, considering it is the best Salve for this Sore, and to give over this frantic Malady, following this good Counsel. 
Thy Wife being fair, be not thou jealous,  
Because Suspicion cures not women's Follies.   destitute and deprived of every good Quality and Virtue, and that find themselves to be little (or nothing at all) favoured or respected of their Mistresses and Ladies, swallow down more easily, and sooner, this poison than others do. A Testimonial of which Mr. john Bocchas setteth down most judiciously (as is his wont manner) in the ninth Tale of his seventh Giornata or days Work, in the person of 
t See this Tale in Bocchas Decameron, and in his seven Giornata, the Argument whereof is briefly thus: Annigucchio, a rich Merchant of Florence, being jealous of his fair wife, perceived how she used to tie a small line or thread about one of her feet when she went to bed, whereupon he one night finding his Rival to pull the same, leapt out of his Bed with his Sword drawn to follow him, and she seeing that her devise was descried, got her maid to lie in her place in the bed, whom her Husband coming back (for he could not overtake the foresaid Fellow) beat most pitifully, and that done, set his wives kindred, to see her in that pitiful taking, but when they saw it was another, and not their kinswoman, they began to swagger with him, and she to rail at him, for calling her good name in question, whereupon he being outfaced by his Wife, and the rest, that he was drunk, was glad to ask her forgiveness, as if he had done her great wrong and, after that, never durst find fault with her more, but suffered her to have her will, and take her pleasure where she thought good, and liked best.  Annigucchio Berlinghieri, as every one may perceive that will take the pains to read the same. Besides, it importeth very much to know of what nature the jealous man is, because if he be naturally suspicious, he then will take every thing in the worse sense, interpreting all whatsoever he either heareth or seeth, in a sinister and bad sense or meaning, and so his Disease (in time) cometh to be desperate. And such a 
v Of the Fellow that suspecting his Wife, and being exceeding jealous of her, would needs shrive her in the habit of a Priest, read Bocchas Tale, in the foresaid Decameron and Giornata 7. the substance whereof is this: A certain Fellow suspecting his Wife of Incontinency, persuaded her to go to Confession and Shrift, and she smelling his drift, made show to be willing thereunto: whereupon he getting the habit of a Priest, stayed for her in a certain Church, whither he had appointed her to go to her Ghostly Confessor, she making show, (when she came thither) that she knew him not, and telling him, how she lay with a Priest every night. He hearing this, when she was gone, and that it was night, stayed about the door of his house watching to take her Sir Domine napping, as he should come to his Wife, whilst she in the mean time, having given a secret Item of all these proceedings, to her amorous Friend, by a private door in the Gutter, let him in, where they enjoyed one another's company all the night long, the Gull her Husband staying all that while, shaking for cold in the street, and when morning began to appear, she let her Friend forth by the same door he came, Wiseacres her Husband, never so much as once doubting or dreaming of any such matter.  Fellow was he who (in Bocchas) would needs (in the habit of a Priest) confess and shrive his Wife, and of this kind of mould are most of our jealous Creatures made, and therefore our Poet very wisely added in his second Verse: 
Et tosto fede à tu●i sospetti ac quisti.  
— And tootoo soon dost gain  
Credit to thy suspicions.—  For so is the true Copy, and not as I have seen in some other false Books. 
Et piu temendo, maggior forza acquisti, etc.  
And fearing (still) thou greater force dost gain, etc.  Although I deny not, but that this might pass for currant, well, and might be counted tolerable enough, as being perhaps borrowed from Virgil, where he saith: 
Fama, malum, quo non aliud velotius ullum,  
Mobilitate viget viresque acquiret eundo, etc.  
Anon through all the Cities great of Africque, Fame is gone,  
That blazing Flame, a Mischief such, as swifter there is none,  
By moving 〈◊〉 she breeds, and as she runs her might doth rise.  
Below (for fear) she lurketh, first, then strait aloft, in skies  
She mounteth.   
Besides, who knoweth not, but that the more one feareth, the more he is jealous? Ariosto likewise setteth down the quick swiftness, and the strange credulity of jealous folks, when he saith, that this uncurable and mortal wound, is so easily imprinted in the heart of a Lover. And certainly it is wonderful, and almost incredible to believe, that men should be such deadly enemies unto themselves, and of their own lives (as many times they are,) through these strange and foolish 
x 
Humours are tumors of a swelling mind.  
Sprung from Self-will unconstant as the wind.   humours, that for one word only, or for a sign, a beck, or a glance cast upon one, without as much as a thought of any ill; nay, more, that they will (despite of their own selves) imagine and conceit that which doth so much afflict, gall, and torment them incessantly, and without any rest, as if there were not (properly) in love, other Cares and Troubles beside, than those only, which we ourselves (without any profit or pleasure at all) seek to purchase most unseasonably every hour of the day: 
y To this purpose, one writeth that all the defects of out Wit, may be reduced into two, viz. Ignorance and Error. By Ignorance we know not things necessary: by Error we know them falsely: Ignorance is a Privation; Error a positue action: All Ignorances' cannot be prevented; many Errors (but not All) may be escaped. From Ignorance floweth Vice, from Error Heresy, and therefore well may we say of the first. 
Grose Ignorance (to Truth the Opposite)  
Falsehood and Doubt do breed, and Foes to Right.  And of the last, thus: 
Error the Daughter of blind Ignorance.  
Hates wisdoms lore, lead by uncertain Chance.  But of both of them one writeth thus: 
Image of Hellish Horror, Ignorance,  
Borne in the Bosom of the black Abyss,  
And fed with Furies milk for sustenance,  
Of his weak Infancy begot amiss,  
By gnawing Sloth upon his Mother Night:  
So he, his Sons, both Sire and Brother hight.   A gross Error and a Token of much insufficiency of wit.  
But to come to the expounding of this our Sonnet, I say, that (Acquistar fede) in this place doth not signify, to be believed, or to be a means for belief, as in the first Stanzo of Petrarcqs, where he saith: 
I acquistar fede alla pensosa vita, etc.  
It nourisheth matter to a perplexed life, etc.  And in that other matchless Sonnet of his, beginning thus: 
Se com'eterna vita è veder Dio, etc.  
As 'tis a blessed thing God to be●●●● in sky,  
So blessed, as we can, nor aught, to covet more:  
So happy am I when I view thy face with eye,  
Since nothing in this world I do so much adore,  
Nor have I seen thee fairer than I view thee now,  
Unless mine Eyes (as partial) juggle with Conceit;  
Hope of my Life, the Minds chief Beauty true,  
On whom (as duty binds) my Heart doth wait:  
But thouart no sooner seen, but art strait out of sight,  
Else would I not thy Company so much desire;  
Then if some live by Sent, (as we believe) they write  
By Water some, and some by Taste, by Touch, and Fire,  
Why by your sweet sight then, should I not live,  
Feeding on nothing else, since life you give?   
But it signifieth (quite contrary) a firm and infallible Belief and Faith: in which sense Petrarcq useth it in this Sonnet: 
Solea lontana, in sonno consolarmi, etc.  
Once was I wont to comfort me in sleep  
With that sweet heavenly face of Mistress mine;  
But now in Fear and Grief it doth me keep.  
(Yet Grief nor Fear can ease me any time)  
Me thought I saw within that beauteous Face  
True Pity, and still Sorrow placed aright,  
My Heart gave firm Belief to this sad Case,  
Disarming me of Hope, and Pleasure quite.  
Remember well said she, that latest Eve,  
That Night in which I left thee weeping so,  
And when (constrained through Time) which me did grieve,  
I went my ways and left thee plunged in Woe,  
Then could not I tell thee so much for Grief.  
Now do I tell thee what thou findest too true,  
Despair therefore, and think not of relief  
Thou (never more) me in this world shalt view.  
Too true I heard what my sick Heart believed,  
And (ever) shall, for which it still hath grieved.   
But to come (where I left) to entreat of JEALOUSY, I say that this malignant Spirit, increaseth and decreaseth, according unto the Party for whose sake we are jealous; and this we do, not alone in respect she is well bred, is pitiful of Nature, proper of parsonage, constant, witty, discreet, modest, of few 
z What others would request or desire in their Wives or Mistresses, I know not; but my nature so much abhorreth a Woman of much tongue, as I had rather have her infected with any of the seven deadly Sins, then to be counted a notorious Scold: and therefore, 
A Woman's Tongue that is as swift as Thought,  
Is ever bad, and she herself stark Nought:  
But she that seldom speaks and mildly then,  
Is a rare Pearl amongst all other Women.  
Maids must be seen, not heard, or seld or never,  
O may I such one wed, if I, wed ever.  
A Maid that hath a lewd Tongue in her head,  
Worse than if she were found with a Man in bed.  
Be she best of her Sex, (Good All,) I hold,  
She is worse than worst, if once she prove a Scold.  
Fly then such Furies as (still) scold and rail,  
Queans of their Tongue, are (most) Queans of their Tail.   words, tender of her own Reputation and Honour, and other such like good parts in her: but (withal) likewise consider and have 
a How jealous the Italians are of their own nearest and dearest Acquaintance & kindred, for fear of their Wives, and how they use to watch them narrowly, read my Ariosto's satires in English, and therefore not without cause is that Proverb rise amongst them: 
Chi non tocca parentado,  
Tocca may, o, rado.  
The nigher kin, the farther in.   an eye even unto her own Mother, her Nurse, her Sisters, and Kindred, her Familiars, Acquaintance, and such Neighbours as she converseth withal, which point is most excellently well set down, by Boccas in many places, whereupon Petrarcq (his Mistress Laura being a Saint, grave, wise, courteous, honest and fair) saith he is not jealous of her, in the end of that no less pleasant than hard and dark Sonnet of his, beginning after this manner, where he speaketh of JEALOUSY thus: 
L'Amor ch'incend' il cuor d'ardente zelo, etc.  
Love, which enflam'st the troubled Heart with burning Zeal  
And keepest him shut in Prison fast with icy Fear;  
And (which is most) toth' doubtful sense dost not reveal  
Or Hope, or Fear, or Fire, or Ice, which he doth bear.  
In greatest Heat I shake, and burn in coldest time:  
Full of Desire, and yet is my suspect as much  
As if a Woman should hide under garments fine  
Some living man, (although there can be nothing such.)  
Of all these plagues, the first is proper unto me,  
To burn both day and night, yet how this harmful flame  
Is sweet in mind, and pleasant seemeth for to be  
No thought can well express, nor pen can write the same:  
The other's none of mine▪ for my fire's of such power.  
As goeth beyond the force of man so far to reach:  
Who thinks by his flight to the height thereof to scour:  
F●ies but in vain, and soon a dangerous fall may catch:  
Well may All strive this golden Ball to gain,  
But in the end they shall (deceived) remain.   
Besides, the Mind and Condition of the Lover towards the Woman whom he affecteth, importeth very much in this business; for if he be given to choler, or is (by any other Accident) discontent and displeased, he will then quickly take occasion to be angry with her, and every mote (as the Proverb goeth) is a Beam in his eye: which quality you shall find in many of Bocchas Novels, and in 
b See the strange passion and life of this Lady more at large in the 32. Canto of Orlando Furioso. This Bradamanta a warlike Maid, daughter to Duke Aymon, and Beatrice his Wife, was sister to Rinaldo, one of the douze Peers of France, for her valiant prowess King Charlemagne made her Governess of Marselles in Prouance. She was wife to that brave Rugiero, & died for grief of the Paladines overthrow, who were most of them treacherously slain at R●uceueax, a City bordering on Spain, through the treason of that Arch-traitor Gano.  Bradamantas Humours: and so again, if he be temperate, and stayed in Condition, being well conceited, and having a good opinion of the party he liketh; then is the case quite altered, and he is jocund and blithsome, and not 
c The more discretion a man hath, the less shall he be troubled with these frantic fits: and seeing, as a certain noble Gentleman faith, the Honour of a true heroic spirit dependeth not upon the carriage or behaviour of a woman, I see no reason why the better sort should take this false playing of their Wives so much at the heart as they do; especially, when it is their Destiny, and not Desert, to be so used. Montaigne, that brave French Baron, being of this mind; for saith he, the Gallantest men in the world, as Lucullus, Caesar, Anthony, Cato, and such like Worthies, were all Cuckolds; yea, and (which was more) knew it, although they made no stir about it: neither was there in all that time, but one Gull, and Coxcomb, and that was Lepidus, that died with the anguish thereof. Read the third Chapter of the third Book of the foresaid Montaignies Essays, and he will satisfy you at large in this point.  troubled at all: and therefore is it very requisite and needful that men should not be over-heady, nor rash, in their Humours, and proceedings, but rather discreet, wary, and cool, canvasing and measuring every action and behaviour of their Mistresses, with sound discretion and judgement, and not to be overforward and too much credulous, or too too light of belief, without any 
d For this makes Women worse than they would be, and to do that which they never meant. 
For Women thas are chaste, when they are trusted;  
Prove wantoness when they (causeless) are suspected.   just cause given them, which is the only reason (as we daily see) of many gross absurdities, springing and issuing from such like light and idle occasions as these.  
Lastly, JEALOUSY increaseth or abateth, according as the qualities are in the party, whom the jealous man suspecteth to be familiar with his Mistress, and therefore is jealous of him. For if he be poor, or ill favoured, basely borne, illitered, of bad or no breeding, and hath few or no friends of worth, to be a countenance or credit unto him, he than doubteth him the less, and hath no great fear of him; as (chose) if he be rich, a proper man, well descended, learned, commendable for his qualities, and withal, potent, and mighty in Friends and Alliance, he than taketh on the more, vexing and tormenting himself without measure, and never giving over to watch and pry into all his devices and doings. And this is the property of such kind of natured men: and although Petrarcq (as we said but even now, and as he himself reporteth) was (ordinarily) never jealous, yet he showeth how by an 
e Indeed Montaigne confesseth, that the best disciplined have been (herewith) somewhat tainted, and some reason may be for the same; but yet never quite carried away with it, forit is our own fault, that we have raised to the highest strain, the excess of this moody Fever, after the example of some barbarous Nations.  extraordinary chance, he fell into this fit a little now and than, as you shall perceive in this his Sonnet, beginning thus. 
In mezzo di duo amanti, honesta, altera, etc.  
A modest and majestic Lady did I see,  
Betwixt two Lovers; of which twain myself was one.  
The other, the glorious Sun with his most brightsome glee:  
The Sun on th'one side, I on th'other than was gone.  
But when she did perceive, she compassed was about  
With the hot rays of her brave and heroic friend,  
She (smiling) turned toward me, and wound herself thereout.  
(Ah would that she had never used me more unkind,)  
This made me quickly turn my jealousy to joy,  
Which at the first began to grow within my heart,  
Lest such a mighty adversary should me noy;  
Which he had done, but that she (soon) from him did part.  
This caused him seem to have a sad and watery face,  
Whilst that a pretty shower did compass him each side  
As he did gloomy show because of his disgrace,  
So much to be o'ercome; did it pull down his pride:  
The Sun so grieved at Lauras deep disdain,  
At his bright Beams were turned to dusky rain.   
In this place he calleth the Sun by his proper name, which the Latins call (in such a case as this) a 
f 
Rivals in Love will be suspicious quickly,  
And through Conceit (not reason) strait grow sickly.   Rival: but I must needs confess not so properly, nor so happily (by great odds) as the Grecians do, which (considering you know better than I can any way set down) I will give over to speak any more thereof.  
Now as concerning the second part of our former Discourse, which is in respect of the place; there is less or more jealousy, concerning the quality of the same, which may be either 
g Of fit places for Amorous purposes, you may read Ovid de Arte Amandi, his first Book, and that notable plot; Mundus (a Roman Knight laid with the consent of the Priests belonging to the Temple of the Goddess Isys, to obtain his will of a fair Lady his Mistress,) in S. Augustine's book, called De Civitate Dei.  Sacred or Profane; far off, or hard by; open, or shut, commodious, or unfit, or such like; or after such a manner. And how much every one of these (different one from another) may import and avail a man about his amorous affairs, any of mean capacity may comprehend, and the 
h Danae was daughter to Acrisius, King of the Argives, unto whom (being closed in a strong Tower) jupiter came in the form of a shower of golden Rain, in at the house top, and begot on her Perseus, that valiant Knight that rescued Andromada from a Monster. This Perseus gave the name first to the Country and people of Persia. But the truth is, jupiter being a gallant young Prince, sent privately rich treasure unto Danae, and likewise to them that had the keeping of her, wherewith they (being corrupted) suffered jupiter to enter into the Tower, & so he obtained his purpose. The Moral of this Tale declareth the force of Money and Gifts, in assulting of Chastity.  Tower wherein Danae was shut, and close Prisons, and jails, can give instance sufficient, besides that common Proverb of ours.  Lodo inamorarsi in vicinanza. 
That place I (best of all) commend,  
Where nighest at hand is our fair Friend.  
So likewise as concerning the third, which is 
i A fit and opporune season is not a little avaialble in this business, considering that Time is the plotter of Experience, and Observation the Instrument of Knowledge: which two, taken right, effect great matters; and to this purpose a certain Philosopher being demanded, what was the first thing, needful to win the love of a woman, answered, Opportunity; being asked what the second, replied, Opportunity; and being demanded what was the third, answered still, Opportunity; and therefore he spoke not amiss that said, 
Occasion, Time, and Opportunity,  
Compass what we desire effectually.  But me thinks this second spoke better, who wrote thus: 
Fair Opportunity can win the coyest she that is,  
So wisely he takes time, as he'll be sure he will not miss;  
Then he that rules her gainesome vain, and tempers Toys with Art,  
Brings Love that swimmeth in her eyes, to dive into her Hart.   Time, there is none but may imagine, that as it is available in other matters, so no doubt is it of great consequence in this business, considering that such occasions, as we may take in the 
k This jovial season amongst the Italians beginneth about the 13. of january, and continueth till Ash-wednesday, it being the chief time of sports and merriments amongst them, they assuming (as then) more liberty and licentiousness, for their devices and pleasures, than in all the year after; which they spend most commonly in reveling, Masking, and Feasting, presenting of Comedies, and pleasing shows, and in courting of their Mistresses, with such delightful exercises.  Carnovall time, or at Shrovetide, to serve our purpose, 
l The Italians have more liberty, & access for pleasure on the Holidays, and in many of their solemn festival days, than in the Lent, and on Fasting days; for those seasons they observe very precisely, having as than no Feasting, Revelling, nor Merry-meetings, but only Fasting and Prayer.  we cannot use them in the Lent, nor may we put them in practice on Fasting days; and so likewise, is the difference great, which men work to purchase and compass what they seek to effect on the Holidays, it being a quite contrary course to that they take on the working-days, about any such matter.  
Lastly, as concerning the fourth and last point, which is the employments and Businesses: who knoweth not but that he that is laborious, and beateth his brains about one thing or another; is less jealous than he that is 
m A man being idle, hath his mind apt to all uncleanness, and when the mind is void of Honesty: Idleness being the only Nurse and Nourisher of sensual appetites, and the sole maintainer of unlawful affections, whereupon one saith: 
Sloth is to Virtue chiefest Enemy.  
And Idleness the Guide to misery.   idle, and doth nothing all the day long: and as Ovid saith of Aegistus.  

Quaeritur Aegistus quare sit factus adulter,  
In promptu causa est desidiosus erat.   

My question's why Aegistus lewd became Adulterer vile,  
'tis answered: He not labour would, his laziness did him spoil.   
So may we say, that he that will take no pains but gives himself to be idle, will soon come to be jealous.  
Besides, there is no fear of such a one as giveth his mind to matters of great importance & difficulty, or of him that esteemeth more of commodity and profit, then of any vain pleasure whatsoever: and so by the contrary, contrary causes arise, considering that of contrary occasions contrary Effects spring and grow: so that according as they shall be greater or smaller, the things (spoken of before) shall be greater or smaller, not according to the rule of Truth, but as IEALOV●IE itself shall conceit thereof. And although we (for the most part) speak in the Masculine Gender, yet must you understand we 
n Bartello the Italian, saith, that a pale coloured woman, with a black dead eye, and a reddish hair, of a middle stature, and shrill in voice, is most subject to JEALOUSY and such a one is Progne described to be, and this differeth not much from our old Said-saw here in England, about the complexions and conditions of Women. 
Fair and foolish, Little and loud,  
Long and lusty, Black and proud,  
Fat and merry, Lean and sad,  
Pale and pettish, Red and bad.  And Burchiello, that fantasticque Writer saith thus: 
High Colour (in a Woman) Choler shows,  
And she's unwholesome that like Sorrell grows,  
Nought are the Peevish, Proud, Malicious,  
But worst of all the Red, shrill, jealous.  Besides, the jealous woman and the cursed Shrew, differ not much, they being very nigh kin one to another: considering the Shrew is reported to be of a middle Stature, and somewhat pale or sallow in colour, with a thin lip, a sharp nose, a Hawks eye, and a shrill voice, that sounds like a Bell; and such a one is Xanthippe, Socrates wife, noted to be. But as Plato saith, to a shroud horse belongeth a sharp bridle, so ought a cursed wife to be kerbed every way, but he that hath a peaceable Woman, and of few words, being here on earth, hath attained Heaven, being in want hath obtained wealth, and being in care, hath purchased comfort. And as concerning this point, this is my Catholic belief: 
A slow soft Tongue betokens Modesty,  
But, quick and loud sign's of Inconstancy:  
Words, more than swords the inward Heart do wound,  
And glibbed tongueed Women seldom chaste are found.  
Much tongue in Wives is bad, in Maids far worse,  
A long tongued Maid is right the devils dry Nurse:  
He roars aloud, she scoldeth shrill like bell;  
Both worse than Fiends, both fit to live in Hell.  Yea, so distasteful a plague was a bad tongue to Ariosto, as he preferreth a witty woman that secretly playeth false with her Husband, before a common and notorious Scold, as in his fifth Satire treating of Marriage you may see more at large.  mean as well Women as Men, who being given no less to love then men, and having (generally) less wisdom and discretion than the other, they must therefore 
o What Montagnies opinion is in this point, and what he setteth down of the Female Sex, as concerning this matter, I had rather refer the Readers to his third Book of Essays, then to say any thing hereof myself, considering Veritas Odium parit, Verdivyce and Oatmeal good for a Parrot.  needs fall into this dangerous disease, suffering themselves to be possessed now and than with this damnable Fury.  
But here (perhaps) some of you expect from me, to know whether 
p Man is the most noblest creature God made, whose duty consisteth in knowing his own Nature, and in labouring to profit others, of whom (after tasso's Imitation) this Disticque is written. 
Man is a Creature of such excellence.  
As (All) created was for his defence.   Man or 
q Woman is of one and the self-same substance with Man, is what Man is, only so much more imperfect, as she is created the weaker vessel, and Hermes avoucheth that a beautiful and chaste woman is the perfect workmanship of God, the true Glory of Angels, the rare Miracle of Earth, and the sole wonder of the World, a modern Writer concluding thus: 
Women to Men are equal every way,  
And like infirmities (in both) do stay.  
WE MEN are Women, Women are WE MEN;  
What difference is twixt us and Women then?   Woman, be more extreme and outrageous, in this more than monstrous Malady.  
Noble (no doubt) and magnanimous is Mankind, and so most delicate and generous is that pleasing Sex of Women, I will not (herein) commend Man much, neither will I so much as discommend the Woman a little for the same, since borne we were for their 
r 
Women are dainty Vessels fine, yet tender weak and soft;  
They must sometimes be born withal, since they do bear so oft  
Then let us not these creatures sweet disgrace, scorn or disdain,  
When (truth to say) we came from them. & they from us first came.   defence, and brought into the world to do them dutiful service. Comparisons are odious, and to infer, or affirm upon Conclusions, bringeth on (oftentimes) farther danger: only gladly, would I please both Kinds, and not willingly displease either: vouchsafe then (most Princely and Honourable Assembly) the opinion herein, of a famous Poet (for I neither dare nor will presume to deliver mine own) and one, that in my poor conceit, had good judgement in JEALOUSY, and that is OVID, a taste and touch whereof you may take, and then be judges yourselves, provided always that you be not over partial on your own side.  
The Verses are these: 
Sed neque fuluus Aper medea tam saews in ira est.  
Fulmineo rapidos dum rotat o'er Canes.  
Nec Leo dum catulis lactantibus ubera prebet,  
Nec brevis ignaro Vipera laesa pede,  
Foeminea quam, etc.  
But neither ravening Tiger mad,  
Nor wildest foaming Boar,  
Are half so fierce, baited by Dogs,  
Whom they do paunch and gore:  
Nor ruthless Lioness, who suck  
Gives to her little ones:  
Nor Viper quick, trod on by chance  
By traveler on the stones:  
As is a jealous Woman's mind,  
Whom Fury doth inflame.  
Her ghastly Countenance shows her Thoughts,  
None can her malice tame:  
To Sword and Fire she flies, all Shame  
She casteth from her quite,  
Like such as are possessed in Soul,  
With some most hellish sprite.  
Behold Medea, how she seeks,  
Revengement for to take  
Upon her Children and her Spouse,  
Whom she away would make.  
Another cruel mother is  
The Swallow, which you see  
Begored with blood on breast, a mark  
That with her Fact doth 'gree.  
This is that damned JEALOUSY,  
Which o'er much Love doth breed.  
The wiser sort must shun this Fiend,  
And of the same take heed.   
But now let us come unto the third verse of our Sonnet.  
Et mentre, con la Fiamma il Gelo mesci.  
— Whilst i'll cold  
Thou minglest with a hot and burning Flame.  
In this Verse our Poet showeth the operation and working of JEALOUSY, viz. that it mingleth chilly Cold (which is no other thing than Fear and Suspicion) together with burning Flames of Fire, that is, with Love, which is no thing else but a kind of Fire. And 
t Poetry is far more commended than Prose, being far more honour to the Language it writes in, than the other, both because Poets were before Orators, and for that to write in Verse is more pleasing, more cunning, and more delightful every way. Besides, Poets (only) have the honour to be crowned with Myrtle and Laurel, and no Scholars else: for they have other Rewards; but these, Garlands and Crowns which last for ever.  hereuponour Poets use these words (Fiamma & Fuoco) not alone for Love, but likewise, for the Women themselves whom they affect and like, as Petrarq did, when he wrote this Canzon: 
L'alma mia Fiamma, oltre le bell, etc.  
My loveliest Flame, more beauteous than the best,  
Who had the heavens (her country) so much at command  
Is thither gone; where, with the blessed, she doth rest,  
And (as a glorious star) by Venus (there) doth stand,  
Now I begin to wake, & (by Her) I do find,  
That (for my Good) she crossed me in my prime Desire,  
And with a sweet disdain (for my deserts) too kind,  
She temper did my more than hot and raging Fire.  
I humbly thank her, and thank her Discretion sage,  
Who with such mildness cooled my hasty youthful Heat,  
Whilst I given over through fancy fond to rave and rage,  
My Mind (thus young) about my soul's health I did beat.  
O dainty Arts, and rare Effects, fit for the same:  
The one, my Verse, her matchless face, the other, wrought.  
She virtuous seeds did sow in me, I raised her Fame:  
Her sacred self, my witty Brain, to pass this brought.  
Thrice happy I, if that so rare a Muse  
Had lived (still) Grace in me to infuse.   
And the reverend Cardinal 
v Peter Bembo, son to Bernardo Bembo, and to Helena Marcelia, (a Roman born) was excellent as well in Prose as in Verse, and for the commendable parts in him, Pope Leo the tenth, made him his Secretary; and not long after, Paul the third created him Cardinal. He died at Venice, and lieth buried in S. Anthony's Church in Padua, where his Statue (of white Marble) is to be seen at this day.  Bembo, in those his divine Terzanes of LOVE, saith thus: 
un dinanzi all suo fuoco effer de neue,  
Iliuro, etc.  
He swore his Lass, more white than mountain Snow,  
Before him sweetly smiling stood, as tho.   
Where you must understand, that there is always some pretty Epithet, added unto the same, as Petrarcq did before: 
L'alma mia Fiamma.  And in another place: 
Il mio bell fuoco è tale.  
Che io desidero di vederlo, etc.  
My dainty Love, my Fire so bright,  
It she in whom I do delight.   
And this kind of phrase is much in request with the Latins, and not without great reason; whereupon Virgil in his bucolics, saith thus: 
At mihi sese offert ultro meus Ignis Amintas.  
But my sweet Girl, Amintas wanton Lass,  
Offers herself to me, as by her I did pass.   
And that Cold or Ice, is set down, for Fear, (that is, the Effect, for the Occasion, or Cause) is a most usual Figure, not only with those who are Versifiers, but such likewise as write in prose, follow the same course. Now, the reason of this is, for that whosoever doth fear, waxeth pale and cold as a stone, because Dread and Fear draw up, and weaken the heart, whereupon Nature (to succour and comfort the same) the 
x Aristotle in his Book De natura Anim. saith, the heart of man, is lodged on the left side of his body, but in all other creatures else, it is naturally in the midst of their breast. And it is a common received opinion among all Natural Philosophers, that the very first part which is form of man, is the heart of man, (as the main root of all his other members, and the spring and fountain of natural heat) and it is also the only member that last looseth his moving, and dieth in man; It being a member so noble and delicate, that it cannot endure any touching, but presently the party dieth.  Heart being the most noble part of man, and being that which (according to the Peripatetical Philosophers, is the first of all the Body that hath life, and the last that dieth) disperseth and sendeth the blood abroad, that is above it, and finding that not sufficient, conveyeth that blood also, for his aid and help which is below; and hereof cometh the paleness in a man's face, and the fearful cold, he hath therewithal. Besides, a man trembleth and shaketh for Fear, by reason that (the Heart trembling) all the whole Body shaketh after his first stirring. And this kind of speech did Petrarcq use of JEALOUSY in the Sonnet alleged a little before: 
Amor ch'encende il cuor d'ardente Zelo,  
Di gelata paura, il tien costretto, etc.   
Where Icy Fear, without doubt, signifieth nothing else but JEALOUSY: and therefore addeth: 
Et qual sia più, fa dubbio, all'Intelletto,  
La speranz'ol timor, là fiamma o'l gelo.   
He taking (as I said ere while) lafoy fiamma, ●'l Gelo, the Fire for Love, and the cold for jealousy: as in this place the meaning of our Poet is the like: so again Petrarcque useth this Verse (Mescere) in the self-same signification Mounsign or De la Casa, doth; who speaketh in the Triumph of Divinity thus: 
Ogni gratia mi fia, se mai l'impetro,  
Che i● veggio ivi present il sommo bene, etc.  
Oh what great Grace should I think done to me,  
If l'that chiefest Good might (present) see.  
And not what's bad and ill, which Time alone  
Brings mingled with him, and with him is gone?   
Although it may be taken as a Metaphor for Wine, as they (commonly) use this kind of phrase, every where in Florence; in which sense that sharp conceited Wit of this our days, and my very inward Friend Mr. Lodovicque Martelli took this phrase, 
y A Florentine borne, and a familiar friend of this our Authors, was excellent in Poetry, especially for composing of Eulogies, and therefore was termed by many a second Tibu●lus. He wrote (amongst other things) a Tragedy called Tullia, and replied against Giovan Giorgio Trissino (a learned Venetian,) about his Epistles, between which twain, was some controversy. He died very young, and as some say, was made away by poison in Regno, a country belonging to the Kingdom of Naples, about the year 1566. leaving many works of his unfinished, in that he was prevented by so untimely a death.  set down in one of his dainty Madrigals, where he beginneth after this manner: 
Io ho nel cu●re un Gelo,  
Che quanto peu lo scaldo, piu s'indura,  
A chilly Cold or freezing Ice  
Lieth 'bout my Heart below,  
Which (more it burns) the harder still  
Within me it doth grow.   
And then a little after, (to come to this our word Mescere) he saith: 
Il soffrir mesce martyr a l'aspra doglia.  
If I should seek to ease my Grief,  
Myself I kill outright:  
If, suffer it, it mixeth pain  
'mongst it, more, me to spite.   
But now let us come to the fourth Verse of our Sonnet: 
Tutto il regno d' Amor turbi & contristi.  
By which (thou) all the Kingdom of mild Love  
Dost trouble, heavy make, and too much move.   
In these few words of this Verse only, all the griefs and discontentments which can be imagined in love, are here (generally) contained, which by how much it is pleasing and sweet of itself, by so much the more it is distasteful and unpleasant, being mixed with JEALOUSY, no otherwise than if a most bitter poison should be mingled with some excellent and pure Sugar or Honey.  
But it is now high time, to come unto the rest of the other Stanza's, which we will quickly dispatch as soon as we shall deliver and show, that not without great skill and judgement, these four first verses were woven, and knit together, for as much as every one of them concludeth with a fit sentence (as it were) and so likewise end: which, besides a certain kind of Gravity, with a maiesticq manner of disdain, (that is included within them) force there Auditors, the more attentively to hear them: this sort of workmanship being as cunningly contrived by our foresaid grave Bembo, in a Sonnet of his where he speaketh of 
z Hope is a pleasant passion of the mind, which doth not only promise us those things that we do desire, but such things also as we have utterly despair of, and therefore one speaketh wittily to this purpose, saying; Hope is the fools God, the Merchant's Comfort, the soldiers Companion, and the Ambitious Man's poison: but yet notwithstanding this last Definition, 
Hope is the sad Hearts help, the sick Thoughts Friend.  
And what Distrust impairs, Hope doth amend.  
True Hope is swift, and flies with Swallows wings,  
Kings it makes Gods, and meanest Creatures Kings.   Hope thus: 
Speme, che gli'occhi nostri veli, & fusci,  
Sfreni, & sferzi le voglie, etc.  
Thou Hope, which cloud'st and shadow'st our sight still,  
Which forward yerk'st & whipst our courage & our wil  
Thou Hope, the Bread and Food of hungry men,  
(Lovers I mean) they oft are hungry then.  And so forth, as in the Sonnet.  
But now we will come to the second Stanza of our Sonnet.  
Pois i in brevi hora entrol' mio dolce hai misti, etc.  
Since thou (so soon) amongst my sugared Sweet  
Hast mixed thy bitter Drugs, hence from my Heart,  
Go pack to Cocytus, and to those joys Deep,  
Those sad and woeful waters full of smart.  
As concerning the chief point of this second part (in the which our Poet having before discoursed of JEALOUSY, and of her Effects at the full) he now cometh to the particulars, and commanding or rather entreating her to leave and part from forth his Body and his Heart, having done the worst she could, after her wont manner, and made him of a most fortunate man, the most wretchedst creature alive; and therefore there remaining nothing for her (as now to do more) he telleth her, that she may do well to 
a For there is her chief mansion house, according to the opinion of a Gentleman, an acquaintance of mine, who to this effect, writeth thus: 

A seeming Friend, but Enemy to Rest,  
A wrangling Passion, yet a gladsome thought;  
A bad Companion, yet a welcome Guest,  
A Knowledge wished, yet sound too soon unsought;  
From Heaven supposed, but (sure) sprung first from Hell,  
Is jealousy, and there (forlorn) doth dwell.   

From thence she sends fond Fear, and false Suspect,  
To haunt our Thoughts, bewitched with mistrust,  
Which breeds in us the Issue and Effect  
Both of Conceit, and Fictions most unjust:  
The grief, the shame, the smart thereof doth prove  
That JEALOUSY is Death, and Hell to love.   

For what but Hell, moves in the jealous Heart,  
Where restless fear works out all sugared joys,  
Which doth both quench, and kill that loving part,  
And cloys the mind with worse than known annoys  
Whose pleasure far exceeds Hell's deep Extremes,  
Such life leads Love, entangled with Misdeames.    return back to Hell, from whence she (first) came, as this word (Torna) signifieth. But this Stanza because it is easy enough of itself, and because we have discoursed sufficiently at large thereof before, we will spend no longer time therein, (only) we will (briefly note) certain special things, as concerning some words he useth here. And first, we will say, that the first half line (Since thou so soon) was set down with great judgement, and for the nonce, not so much to answer that Verse above written. 
— And tootoo soon dost gain  
Credit to thy suspicions,—  As to show the force and sudden power of this detestable poison, which worketh most violently and suddenly. (Hai misti.) That is, hast mixed, or mingled, as Petrarcq saith in this his Sonnet.  
See Virgilio & Homero hauessin visto  
Quell sol, il qual, vegg'io con gli occhi miei, etc.  
If Virgil, or learned Homer seen had my Sun bright,  
Which I so oft behold with these my happy eyes,  
They would have mixed (to blaze her Fame) their utmost might,  
In both their tongues they would have raised her to the Skies:  
They would have made Aeneas discontent and sad,  
Achilles, grave Vlissis, many Heroys then,  
Augustus, and Orestes, (who Aegistus bade  
Did kill) should still have lain in dark oblivions den:  
Old Ennius sang in harsh and ragged form Verse,  
Don Scipio's praise (the matchless wonder of his age.)  
I strive a peerless Virgin's fame for to rehearse,  
Who wins the Garland for her virtuous carriage sage.  
heavens grant, though (for this subject) meane's my wit,  
That she'll not scorn me, but accept of it.  
Torna à Cocito e à lagrimosi, & tristi,  
Chiacci d'Inferno, etc.  
Giacci, and not Campi, you must read (as I have seen in some Copies) and this is a certain Poetical description of HELL, and very rightly, and fitly doth he will her to return to Hell, from whence she came; since (certainly) it is a right Fury indeed, Ariosto having Christened it by the name of an infernal plague. And therefore you must note, that as every thing which is good and fair, is said to proceed and come from Paradise; so chose, All, whatsoever is foul, and bad, we term to come from Hell? as Virgil saith that desperate Gaming, and ghastly Famine issue from thence: Petrarcq speaking as much of Laura's Looking-glass, after this manner: 
Questo fu fabricato sopra l'acque,  
d' Abisso, & tinto nel eterno oblio,  
Onde il principio dimio morte nacque.  
No doubt, some Fiend, this Looking-glass did make,  
Within the waters of th'infernal Lake;  
Forgetfulness eternal, died the same  
From whence (at first) did spring my mortal bane.  And in another place, taxing the Court of Rome, he calleth it the HELL of the Living; as in a third passage he termeth the World after this manner; when he wrote thus: 
Non v●rrei rivederla in ques'tinferno, etc.  
Not willingly I would her see again,  
In this bad world; this Hell, this Gulf of pain:  But now to the rest. 
Iui, iate stessa incresci, etc.  
Pack hence to Hell, thou worse than hellish Elf,  
There vex, torment, and gall thine inward self.  Meaning, she should there torture herself, and not be grievous and troublesome unto others, and in this sort doth he paint and set forth the Nature and Conditions of JEALOUSY, which Lodovicq Martelli hath no less elegantly, than eloquently set down in one of his Canzons, entreating of Love, and which, because I perceive you stand attentive to hear, I will most willingly acquaint you withal.  
Quell the interrompe ilòr casto desire,  
E se quel ch'è d'un solo à molti è dato,  
Quest' ingombra i mortai di sdegni, & ire;  
Et turba, & volue ogni amorsolo stato, etc.,  
That which breaks Lovers chaste designs in twain,  
And gives to Many, what (to One) doth appertain,  
Is that which fills men's hearts with furious sire,  
And (topsi turui) turns each amorous desire;  
Is that which makes Men wish (so oft) to die,  
And to contest 'gainst God, he is borne disasterously;  
Makes him disclaim his Goodness and his Grace,  
When as he finds himself in such hard case:  
To live as one forsook, and quite exiled,  
From all good Fortune, and from pity mild:  
But although this Verb (jucressere) signifieth to have compassion and pity (for the most part) as that deep and 
b This learned Poet was borne in Florence, his Wife being of the house of the DONATI, there, and called BIANCA, but he being banished from thence, lived in the ancient City Ravenna, in Romagna, where he lieth interred, having a fair Tomb over him, which Bernardo Bembo, (Father to Cardinal Bembo) re-edified and made new, when he remained Podesta (there) for the Signory of Venice, with this Epitaph over him. 
Exigua Tumulo (DANTE's) hic sort iacebas,  
Squallenti nulli, cognite (paene) situ;  
At nunc Marmor●o, subnixus conderis arcu  
Omnibus, & cultu splendidiore nites,  
Nimirum BEMBUS, Musis incensus Hetruscis,  
Hoc tibi, quem imprimus hae coluere dedit.  But the aforesaid City of Ravenna is now subject to the Roman Church. This Dant is by some learned Italians compared and equalled with Homer and Virgil, and was not alone a Poet, but a Philosopher, a Divine, a Physician, and an Astronomer with all: yet doth Cardinal Bembo prefer Petrarcq before him. When Dant was young, he was Scholar to Brunetto Latini, Vincentio Borghim, Prior of the Hospital of the Innocenti in Florence, having made an excellent Comment upon all his works.  profound Poet Dant showeth, in one of his learned and moral Canzons, beginning (as it were) somewhat abruptly, thus: 
Em'incresce di me si altament  
Ch'altro tanto di doglia  
Mireca lafoy pietà, quanto'l martyr.  
So much I sorrow for myself,  
And in so high degree;  
As pity brings as much of grief,  
As tortures do to me.  And Petrarcq (after the same manner) writeth thus: 
Hor de mici danni a me medessimo increase, etc.  
Now to myself, I grieve for this my loss.  
Though by her looks she showed she sorry was.  Yet nevertheless, the same Poet in the first Stanza of his Canzon, of his transformations, taketh it in this our sense, when he saith: 
Poise giuro si come à me n'increbbe, etc.  
Then swore she that to me she did no wrong,  
Although she vexed me for to stay, and look so long.  And this is worth the noting (as I said a little before) that one Tuscan word alone, should signify two things; and those so much different one from another: the Latins likewise, having the like signification in these two Verbs: Miseret, and Taedet: It pitieth me, and it irketh me. 
Iui senza riposo i giorni mena, etc.  
There (without rest) prolong thy weary days,  
And let thy Nights withouten sleep be spent;  
There torture (still) and grieve thyself always,  
As well for doubtful as sure punishment, etc.  In this part he goeth on, describing and setting down the Nature and Life of such as be jealous, under the description of JEALOUSY herself, who (always) living as it were, in a continual Hell, take no rest in the day; neither can they sleep at all in the nights, but (ever) grieve and lament, taking on as well for that which is false, as for what they stand in doubt of to be true; imagining many times, and conceiting divers things that are altogether impossible; for this strange Malady engendereth a continual and a perpetual 
c According to this saying applied unto a suspicious or jealous person. 
Suspect like traitor false, bewrays our words,  
Suspicious eyes are messengers of woe.  
jealous Suspect ugly Despair affords,  
And of thy dearest friend makes deadliest Foe.   discontentment and disquietness in the mind, so that he is not able, nor hath-any power to give over from vexing himself, standing (always) watchful with his cares wide open, to hearken and listen to every word, every voice, every sound, and every wind: all which, he taketh in a wrong and sinister sense, conjecturing (evermore) worse of the same than he need. And therefore Propertius excuseth himself, about this fault, in one of his Elegies, thus: 
Omnia me terrent, timidus sum, ignosce timori,  
Et miser in tunica suspicor esse virum;  
Me laedit, simulta tibi dabit oscula, matter  
Me, Soror, & cum qua dormit Amica simul.  
Each thing affrights me, I do fear  
Ah pardon me, my fear.  
I doubt a man is hid within  
The clothes which thou dost wear:  
If thine own Mother kiss thee (oft)  
Or Sister thine, I grieve:  
I fear the Maid that lieth with thee,  
And in thy House doth live.  
Each thing makes me suspect; I look  
With jealous watchful eye;  
The Nurse makes me to doubt, and Child  
That doth in Cradle lie.   
And this, Petrarcq reprehending as a vain and impossible thing, saith: 
Pur come Donna in un vestire schietto.  
As if a woman in her Gown,  
Or in a slender Veil,  
A living man should (secret) hide,  
Which is a senseless tale.   
Yea, this franticque Humour, runneth on (oftentimes) so far, as it taketh away a man's senses, as if he were not the same party he was before: whereupon, all those things not only proceed which Horace setteth down in that pleasant Ode of his: beginning, 
Cum te Lydia, Telephi, etc.  
With thee my wanton Lydia,  
Who given art o'er much to play etc.   
But, which is more, we are afraid of our own shadow: which Propertius confesseth thus: 
Ipse meas solus (quod nil est) aemuler umbras,  
Stultus, quod stulto saepe timore, tremo.  
I mine own shadows dread, alone,  
Which (nothing are) in vain,  
And, like a fool, through foolish fear,  
Oft put myself in pain.   
And the learned Molza, imitating this Poet, beginneth one of his Sonnets, after such a manner, writing thus: 
Io son del mio bell sol, tanto Geloso.  
So jealous am I of my beauteous Sun,  
As (scarcely) can I brook,  
(Such is my doubt) that any should  
As much as on her look.   
And because (as I said before) JEALOUSIE is a kind of Envy, grieving as much at another's Good, as she doth at her own hindrance and hurt. jealous folk are content to endure any discommodity whatsoever, upon condition that no other shall enjoy the benefit thereof.  
And hereupon our amorous Poet Tibullus, speaketh thus in an Elegy of his: 
At tu fallacis Coniux incaute puellae,  
Tu quoque seruato, peccet ut illa nihil.  
But thou (kind Wittol) Husband thou  
Unto my subtle Wench,  
I pray thee have a watchful eye,  
Lest she play false at Fence.   
What shall I say more: such as be jealous, fear not men only, but likewise suspect and doubt the Gods themselves; and therefore saith Ovid in his Epistles for Sapph: 
Hunc ne pro Cephalo raperes, Aurora timebam, 
Ovid in his Epistle of Sapph to Pha●.   
Et faceres, sed te prima rapina tenet, etc.  
I dread (Aurora) lest for Shafalus thou would  
Have chosen him, save that thy former Rape doth thee withhold:  
If Phoebe view him (once) that all surveys with Eye,  
My Phao shall be quickly forced in slumbers long to lie:  
In ivory Wagon would Dame Venus to the Stars  
Have borne him, but she feared, he would have coyde the God of Wars.   
Many more examples could I allege for this purpose, most of the Poets, especially the Grecians and the Latins, not talking of any thing so much, nor that toucheth and galleth the Heart so sharply, as this doth: which forced Propertius to write thus: 
Nullae sunt inimicitiae nisi Amoris acerbae, etc.  
There's no unkindness like Love wronged,  
Such things most bitter are to me,  
Let me mine own throat cut; yet I  
A kind Foe to myself shall be:  
With what face can I see strange Arms  
My Wench for to embrace and twine,  
When she another's shall be termed,  
Who (but even now) was called Mine?  
Sure all things change and lovers minds  
Do change, and (changing) prove.  
Win thou in Love, or do thou lose,  
So turns the wheel of love.   
But our Tuscan 
d The worth of Poets and Poetry, can never be sufficiently commended enough, although this Iron age hath nothing more in contempt, which is not the fault of Scholars, but of those dull Midases, now living, who make so small account of them, and therefore passing well said he that wrote this Disticque: 
The Man that scorneth Poets, and Arts School,  
Lacks but a long Coat to be Natures Foole.  Yet in despite of these worse than nasty jailers, that keep such store of wealth in their bard Closets, and secret places far darker than Limbo itself, from those that deserve it better every way than themselves, (and all which dunghill muck is nothing but the base Excrements of this stinking Earth) I will set down here the worth of a Poet (more in value by much than their Idolatrous trash) as that sweet Muse of his (who not unworthily beareth the name of the chiefest Archangel) singeth after this Soul-ravishing manner: 
When Heaven would strive to do the best she can,  
And put an Angel's spirit into a man..  
Then all her powers she in that Work doth spend,  
When she a POET to the world doth send;  
The difference only twixt the Gods and Us,  
Allowed by them, is but distinguished thus;  
They give them breath, Men by their Powers are borne,  
That life they give the POET doth adorn:  
And from the world, when they dissolve man's breath,  
They in the world do give Man life in death.   Poets, loving more chastened than the Heathen, wrote more discreetly, and with a better mind of this subject, neither had they so much cause to complain, or enueigh against this wicked Fury.  
And now as concerning the two first lines of this last Stanza, in my conceit this word (ivi) (there) is not without good grace and much elegancy uttered three times, one after another, not so much to knit and join the Verses following, to those that go before, as for that Flourish or Figure, called Repetitio, by our rhetoricians, and because of that other which is termed an Article, the conjoining and coupling of the Conjunction (Et, And) being not put to any of them.  I giorni mena. 
This phrase Menare i giorni, is, in this place, after the same fashion as Petrarcq useth the same in that Sonnet of his: 
Chi e fermato di menar sua vita, etc.  
Who is resolved to lead his life unsure,  
Amid the wavering Seas and Rocks so high  
Fearless of death in Bark which cannot dure,  
Must make account he to his End is nigh.  
'Tis good for such an one to hoist his sail,  
And towards the Haven get for his avail.   
Imitating herein the Latinists, who say, ducere vitam, to live. And yet Petrarcq in this Sonnet following, turned it to another sense.  
Po been puo tu portarnclaescorza, etc.  
Well mayst thou (Po) my body carry fast,  
By reason of thy swift and mighty wane,  
My Soul the Guest within this lodging placed,  
For all thy force with thee, thou canst not have:  
This near gives over, but strives to mount on high,  
Forcing (herself) unto the clouds to glide,  
Until it to that happy place come nigh,  
Where it doth hope in perfect Bliss to bide:  
Thou Prince of Rivers, prouder than the rest,  
Encountering with the Sun when day doth break:  
And in the ponent of that Light quite disposest,  
Where waters thine begin for to grow weak,  
Bear thou this outward shape alone with thee,  
Whilst my Soul in her sweet lodge longs to be.  
And this kind of phrase is (most commonly) taken after the worse sense, as in the first Chapter of Love, he speaketh thus: 
Qual e morte da lui, qual con piu gravi, etc.  
What Death is his? what wretched life,  
That pover wretch sustains?  
Whom Laws severe command him lie  
Shut close, and bound in chains, etc.  But now to our Poet again. 
Non mendi dubbia che dicerta pena.  
As well for doubtful as sure punishments, etc.   
In my conceit he could never more learnedly, nor more, and as I may say, more elegantly express and set down the last difference of JEALOUSY, than he hath (here) done in this Verse, considering there may (perhaps) be found such a kind of gnawing corsive or inward fretting Passion, that may have part, or the most of these troubles that JEALOUSY hath, but that there (ever) should be found any one that shall continually, lament and grieve, as much for that which is impossible and doubtful, as for what is certain and well known, that can I never be induced to believe: this one thing being rightly the property and nature of this franticque Malady. And therefore Ariosto said likewise well, when (speaking of JEALOUSY) he wrote thus: 
Non men per falso che per ver suspetto, etc.  
This hellish Hag makes men to wail and rue,  
Through false suspect, as well as for what's true.   
Petrarcque intimating as much, when (as before is alleged) he said: 
Pur come Donna in un vestir schietto, etc.  
Like to a woman that is finely clad,  
And under garment hers some man she had.   
Inferring hereby no other thing, than (as hath been often repeated before) that jealous persons are afraid of what they need not, they being always full of Suspicion and dread, no otherwise than as if it were a likely or possible thing that a woman should hide a living man under her vail or her attire. And in this Sonnet (aforesaid) Petrarch setteth down jealousy by four divers names: viz. trembling Cold, shivering Fear, chilly Ice, and melancholy Suspect 
e Well may Petrarcq brand Love with four such several terms, when, that learned Philosopher Marcus Aurelius calleth it a cruel impression of that wonderful passion, which to be defined is impossible, because no words reach to the strong nature of it, and only they know it, who inwardly do feel it. And therefore I will be bold to descant upon it thus, 
What is not LOVE? 'tis All, Virtue and Vice,  
Humble, proud, witty, foolish, kind and nice;  
A golden bubble, blown big with idle Dreams,  
That waking breaks, and fills us with Extremes.  Or rather thus; 
LOVE backward spelled (put I for O) is EVIL  
Add D before the same, and 'tis the DEVIL.  
A DEVIL 'tis, and mischief such doth work,  
As never yet did Pagan, jew, nor Turk.   as he calleth Love by four other several words, Zeal, Hope, Fire and Desire: the Reasons whereof we will (at some other time) disclose, and so conclude with our Author's Epilogue: 
Vatene; ache piufiera che non suole, etc.  
Dispatch, begone; why fiercer than before,  
And far more stranger than thou wontest to be:  
(Since venom thine, to poison me the more  
Through every vain dispersed is by thee?)  
Dost thou return to me in shadows new,  
The more to force me still to grieve and rue?   
This fourth and last part agreeth marvelous well with the beginning and midst of this Sonnet, according to Horace his Advice, where he saith, in his Book De Arte Poetica.  
Primum ne medio, medium ne discrepet imo, etc.  
The First with Midst, the Midst with  
The latter must agree.  
If thus thy work be framed aright,  
It needs must perfect be.  
Thus with a kind of brief Repetition he concludeth and shutteth up the whole substance of his Sonnet, willing JEALOUSY once more to be packing, and as it were, seeming to be angry and to chide her, alleging (to persuade her the sooner to be gone,) the Reasons before alleged: for as much signifieth these two Verses: 
Since venom thine, to poison me the more,  
Through every vain dispersed is in me,  As the other twain above mentioned: 
Since thou (so soon) amongst my sugared sweets,  
Hast mixed thy bitter Drugs, etc.   
And partly it declareth the nature of this insatiable Monster, who thinketh it not enough, to have infected and spoiled a man with her poison on the sudden: but she must also turn back again, with divers and strange Apparitions and Shadows, that is, with new Fashions and Shapes, after a more cruel and fearful manner, every day more than other, and so increaseth continually, to the greater discontentment of his mind. But this Part being sufficient plain of itself, I will speak the less herein, only, as you know well enough, this word (
f Besides these Laruae (in Latin the condemned Souls of the wicked) the Heathens held there were these kinds of Spirits more, LARES, GENII, MANES, and LEMVRES, and the Lares, which came of of LARVE, were those Shadows and Ghosts which they supposed did torment the domestical and particular Inhabitants of private houses.  Larue) in the Latin tongue, signifieth the condemned Souls of the wicked, which we in our vulgar tongue term Spirits of Ghosts: but here it intimateth 
g A Fantasme is according to S. Austin, an Imagination, and an Impression in the Soul, of such Forms and Shapes as are known, or of such as shall be imagined without any sight had of them. But a Spectre or Apparition is an Imagination of a Substance without a Body, the which presenteth itself sensibly unto man, against the order and course of Nature, and maketh him afraid, only the difference between the one and the other is this; A Fantasme is a thing without life and substance, and the APPARITION or SPECTRE, hath a substance hidden and concealed, which seemeth to move the fantasticq body, the which it hath taken.  sundry Shadows, Phantasms, and Apparitions, in which (as they say) they use to appear. And this is borrowed out of Petrarcq, in one of his Sonnets beginning thus: 
Fuggendo la preson ou ' Amor, etc.  
Ladies, it tedious were to set down here,  
How much I grieve at my new liberty,  
Since I broke prison; where so many year  
Love kept me (as he pleased) most watchfully,  
My Heart would tell me oft he could not live,  
But as he did, whilst Cupid (subtle Else)  
Met me in Shadows false, me (more) to grieve,  
And might deceive a wiser than myself.  
This makes me oft look back, and (sighing) say  
Woe's me too late, now to my loss I find,  
'Tis worse with me now I am 'scaped away,  
My Yoke and Chains were wont to be more kind:  
Too late I now perceive my wilful fall,  
And hardly (now) can I myself untwine  
From my first Error, which I would recall,  
In which I wound myself through Follies mine;  
When I was bound, I then wished to be free;  
Now I am freed, I loathe my Liberty.   
And now this Sonnet of our being expounded and ended, there are (most noble Auditors) many and sundry goodly and delightful doubts, no less profitable than difficult and hard to conceive, about this subject of JEALOUSY. But because (presuming upon your courteous patience) I have somewhat exceeded the prefixed time, appointed for this solemn place, I would be loath (any longer) to be tedious unto you; and therefore we will only touch some of the chief and principal of them by the way, and such as we shall think to be most fitting and necessary for us. First then, some make a doubt, and are marvelous desirous to be resolved in this point, which is: whether Love, I mean that 
h There are six properties in LOVE. Self-love is the ground of Mischief. Lascivious Love, the root of Remorse. Wanton Love the Coward's warfare. Pure Love never saw the face of Fear. Pure loves eyes pierce the darkest corners, and pure Love attempteth the greatest dangers, but this Love which is a desire of Beauty, is a Headful of Coldness, a Sweet full of Bitterness, a Pain full of Pleasantness making thoughts have Eyes, and Hearts Ears. It is bred by Desire: nursed by Delight: weaned by jealousy: killed by Dissembling, and buried by Ingratitude; to be brief, It is not to be suppressed by Wisdom, because not to be comprehended with Reason.  Love which is the desire of beauty, may be without JEALOUSY, as it seemeth Petrarcq is of that opinion, in that Sonnet of his, (mentioned so often by us heretofore) where he saith, that he loveth his Mistress Laura, without being jealous at all; and he showeth the reason thereof, and what the cause was he did so, when he said: 
L'altra non già ch'el mio bell fuoco è tale, etc.  
The other's none of mine,  
For my fire's of such power, etc.  
l' Amor chen cend il cuore,  To this we answer briefly thus:  

i 
True Love doth look with pure suspicious eye,  
And you kill Love, cashiering JEALOUSY?  Although another writeth after this sort: 
On Love (saith some) waits jealousy,  
But JEALOUSY wants Love:  
When curiously the overplus,  
Doth idle quarrels move.   Love (truly) we cannot, unless there be some spice of JEALOUSY therein; and the reason is, for that (as Aristotle in his eight Book of Elegies saith, Love is of one alone, but Friendship is amongst few. And where Ovid writeth to 
k ovid. lib. 2. & Eleg. 10. 
The substance of which Elegy is this.  
Grecinus, well I wot thou told'st me once,  
I could not be in Love with two at once;  
By thee deceived, by thee surprised am I,  
For now I Love two Women equally:  
Both are well favoured, both rich in array,  
And which the lou'liest is, 'tis hard to say,  
This seems the fairest, so doth that to me,  
And this doth please me most, and so doth she:  
Even as a Boat tossed by contrary Wind,  
So with this Love, and that wavers my Mind.   Grecinus, that he liked and loved two women, and (both of them) at one time: my opinion, under correction) is, he mistook himself in the name, although greater matters than these are tolerable, and pass for currant amongst Poets, whereupon our amorous Master 
l This man was borne in Pratolino, a small Village in Tuscanie, not far from Florence, he wrote many sorts of Poems, especially, Elegies, in which he is counted, and (as others write) preferred before ovid. He had two Kinsmen, that were Scholars, the one Baptista Allemanni, Bishop of Macone, a little Town in Lombardie, and of inward acquaintance with this Author Benedisto Varchi, and the other called Antonio Allemanni, who wrote many pretty and witty works, in the Italian tongue, imitating Burchiello, in his manner of Verse, called BURCHIELLESCA, and had acquaintance with most of the learned men of his time, whom he mentioneth very often, especially, in this Sonnet following. 
Io, non inu●co Apollo, o altro Iddio,  
E veggio che le Muse'launo troppo n●ia,  
L'a iuto Orrinzo, el, Fedele, el, Pistoia,  
Pietro, Pamfilo, Sasso, el, Tibaldeo,  
E frai nostri Toscani, il Vnice, e Ceo,  
Questi versacchi miei, son loro a noia,  
E come Marzia, io prenderei la quoia,  
Che io non son con costor bu●n Cetaro.   Lewes Allemanni saith, imitating his most witty Shoolemaster Ovid, in one of his dainty and sweet Tuscan Elegies, thus.  
Per qual occasion avien crudel Amore,  
Che fuor d'ogn' uso human per Cynthia & Flora,  
Porto due fiamme, & non hà più d'un cuore?  
What is the reason (tell me) cruel Love,  
That 'gainst all common sense I wretch should prove,  
And bear two fires, when I have but one heart,  
For Cynthia and for Flora, more to make me smart?  
Now if the woman that is beloved, should affect another, (when there cannot be any Love true, but of one alone) it must then of necessity follow, that she should not care for her first friend or Lover, this being the principal point required of her. Besides, the 
m According to that saying: 
Love doth desire the thing beloved to see,  
That like itself in lou'ly shape may be.  And as another very wittily writeth: 
LOVES greatest powerful Force and Excellence,  
Is to transform the very Soul and Essence  
Of the Lover into the thing beloved,  
For so by deep Philosophy t' is proved.   Lover coveting and desiring to beget of his Mistress a thing like unto himself, it must follow by this rule, that he should not obtain his purpose, having his she-Friend common to another. And whosoever believeth, or is of opinion, that a man may (truly) and from the heart, love and affect more than one, at one and the self-same time, is very much mistaken, as (besides the authority of Aristotle aforesaid) we have proved (even now) in this place: neither doth he rightly understand how that party who loveth indeed, loveth his Friend as his own proper and best good, he craving and desiring nothing so much than that twain should become one, as Plato reporteth, those two Lovers answered Vulcan very well, and to this purpose Lodovicq Martelli spoke excellent well, saying: 
Nessun può far, di queich ' all mondo sono,  
A più d' una di se gradito dono.  
No man (for present) can himself bestow,  
But on one woman, if he honest show.  And (me thinks) he spoke as well, when he said thus: 
Et poco e'ldon, ch'un di se stesso fece, etc.  
Think you that man doth give but little wealth,  
When (gift-wise) he bestoweth All himself?  Having said before. 
Et quei ch'ama divoi, (done) piu d'una, etc.  
Fair Ladies, he that shall love more  
Than one of any you;  
And at one time dissembler is,  
His Love can not be true:  
His mind's beyond his might, like he  
That with his daring eye  
Stands staring on the Sunny beams,  
And blinded is thereby:   
We will then, for conclusion, say, that wheresoever 
n With which opinion these Verses agree well. 
The truest Love (sometim's) suspicious,  
And feeds on Cares and Fears most amorous;  
Nor can LOVE live without some JEALOUSY,  
Which ta'en away, it straight begins to die.   true Love is, there indeed some JEALOUSY must most necessarily be, and where no JEALOUSY is, there of necessity can be no true Love indeed; as a certain Gentleman (a friend of mine) wrote to his Mistress, (who took some exceptions against him, because he seemed to be a little yellow of her) when amongst other things he wrote thus unto her. 
Nor let not this (Lady) your mind once move:  
jealous to be (in some sort) is true love.  And of this opinion was Petrarcq, as you may perceive in the beginning of that his Sonnet so often, by piece-meal, repeated by us, although (in the end thereof) he to insinuate into her favour, (and to commend his Mistress Laura the more) feigneth like a right Poet, that there was no JEALOUSY in him, which nevertheless, he yieldeth to be in any other Lover else; and which our familiar acquaintance Master Lewes Allemanni, knowing to be but too true, added (therefore) those speeches (set down a little before by me) Fuor d'ogni uso humano. Meaning hereby, as if it were a thing against nature any living man, should not have some small spice of JEALOUSY in him.  
Another doubt is, whether JEALOUSY be (naturally) in Lovers or no, many affirming it is, and withal, alleging the same likewise to be in every bruit Beast, as well as in man, 
o Considering the great Plagues and Afflictions which many (too too jealous over their Wives) inflict most worthily upon themselves, the voluntary Cuckolds, and kind Wittols, are to be counted wise, in respect of the other, because they are never tortured with such frightful and sensible punishment: for, 
Most certain t' is, where JEALOUSY is bred,  
HORNS in the Mind, are worse than HORNS on the Head.  Nay more, I hold Cockolds for their patience (herein) to be the only true happy & wise men indeed, for if (according to Seneca in his Epistles) he that is Temperate, is Constant; who is Constant is untroubled, who is untroubled is without sorrow; who is without sorrow, is happy, wherefore he that is such a one is Happy, & wisdom is sufficient to a happy man: then say I, that all these Qualities coveriving in a Cuckold, he must needs be both Wise and Happy.  excepting only in those kind of overkinde Creatures, to whom our language hath given a strange name, by reason they are careless and respectless of their own honours, accounting it a small matter for their Wives to be of the common gender, and more courteous than indeed civility or good manners require they should be.  
And certainly it cannot be denied, but that 
p That Beasts participate of this plague, the Shepherd Cratis found too much to his cost, who being fallen in Love with a shee-Goat, her Buck (through mere jealousy) beat out his brains, as he lay asleep.  many senseless and brute beasts are jealous, as is apparently seen in Bulls, in 
q The Tale of the Swan about Windsor, finding a strange Cock with his Mate, and how far he swum after the other to kill it, and then returning back, slew his Hen also (this being a certain truth, & not many years done upon this our Thames) is so well known to many Gentlemen, and to most Watermen of this River, as it were needless, to use any more words about the same; yet are there two brethren that I know, who (should any such strange thing be reported unto them, especially by a traveler) they would but scoff at him for his labour, so peremptory and yet simple are they in their own conceits; yea, they will not stick to laugh and gibe thereat, as if it were a loud lie, only because they themselves have never seen nor known the like: but these silly animals, and jolly crowing Cocks on their own Dunghill, Ariosto taxeth excellently well in the beginning of his seventh Canto, of his Orlando Furioso, but this being out of their element, I will tell them, in their own natural and Mother tongue, what our Country man young Master Withers writes: 
(Whose pleasing satires never shall decay,  
But flourish green, like Laurel and the Bay.)  
'tis gross, saith he, and vain for to uphold  
That all reports which travelers unfold  
Of foreign Lands, are lies; because they see  
No such strange things in their own Parish be,  
And if I may not term such Fellows vain,  
I'll say, they are dull, and of a shallow brain.  
And him I count no wiseman that imparts  
To men of such base misconceiving hearts  
Any rare matter; for their brutish wit  
Will very quickly wrong both him and it:  
For thus the saying is, and I hold so,  
Ignorance only is true wisdoms foe.   Swans, in Lions, in Doves, in Hens, and such like. Besides, me thinks, it is as natural a thing for a man to be jealous, as to desire to engender, and beget that which is like to himself, which is the most natural thing (as Aristotle avoucheth in his second Book De Anima) that living Creatures can do. And this they do, that they might (as he allegeth oftentimes) in some sort, participate and come near unto divine Nature, as much, and after the best manner they shall be able.  
Now if any shall doubt whether JEALOUSIE be a natural thing or no, or (if it being so) why then should it be condemned and blamed so much (considering that according to Aristotle's rule, none ought either to be praised or blamed for any thing, they do through the secret instinct of Nature, they being as it were indifferent (as we may term them;) To them I answer thus: we condemn not JEALOUSY itself, but the 
r Here the Author showeth his opinion as concerning jealousy, because he would not be mistaken, condemning this foolish and suspicious Humour; taken or conceited upon no occasion or cause given, by many men over-rashly, and to the utter overthrow, many times of themselves, and of such as they love & affect most dearly, wishing the golden Mean, that is, the Mediocrity or Virtue herein, to be used by every one, and that also with great discretion and judgement, remembering always this Lesson. 
IT is fast goodwill, and gentle courtesies,  
Reclaims a Woman, and not watching eyes;  
For where Suspect directeth forward wills,  
Beauties sweet dalliance with despite it kills:  
And where a Man is jealous without cause,  
The Woman good, for to be bad (oft) draws.   Excess, and the tootoo much of the same, as we find not fault with eating & drinking moderately, and other such natural desires; but the abuse thereof, through too much gluttony. Surfeiting, Quaffing, and Drunkenness, being that which we blame and disallow of, and therefore if any shall be jealous with discretion, (and not without great and important cause,) observing a true and temperate decorùm in the Time, the place, the person, and the cause, as is fit and convenient for him; especially, if it shall concern his own reputation and credit, or the good name of his Mistress, or Wife, he is not to be discommended at all.  
Another doubt is, whether this Disease is to be holpen, 
s And yet under correction, and by the Author's leave, it is hardly cured, if it have once taken any deep root, especially (as Montagnie writeth) in the Female Sex, whom to advise, to distaste and give over this franticque Passion, were but time and labour lost. Their Essence, as he affirmeth, (for I will not in any wise subscribe to such an Heretical opinion as this is, and therefore I allege authority, Certissima omnium regula) being so much infected with JEALOUSY, with Vanity, and Curiosity, that there is no hope to cure them by any lawful means, they often recovering of this infirmity, by a form of health, much more to be feared, than the disease itself: for even as some Enchantment cannot rid away an evil spirit, but with laying it upon another, so when they lose it, they transfer and bestow this Malady upon their husbands. But (holla) pardon me, (fayre-Ladies and Gentlewomen) to whose lot it shall fall by chance to read this Note. Had it not been but that I should have left this part Defective, and a mere Heteroclite, I would not have proceeded so far as I did: and now for amends, (yet not to flatter you at all,) speak Mounsieur Montagnie in French what he list, yet could I, and can allege as much, if not more, against our own Malekinde, the Italian and others, and (I am sorry so to say) some here in our own Country of England, testifying as much, who are and have been as violent, and virulent in this Bedlam-like Humour, as any Woman Virago whatsoever.  or else be a wound immortal, and incurable, as Ariosto affirmeth, with divers others, who all subscribe to his opinion. To which I answer, that as the occasions which first bred the same, shall decrease or increase, so shall JEALOUSY itself, either decay or continue, and so when the cause shall be quite removed, 
t 
Some say I, and some say No,  
But few the Truth as yet do know.  
Gramatici certant & adhuc sub judice lis est,  The Mayor part think this jealousy to be like the Switzers in Germany, who if they once get entertainment in some good Castle or Hold, they will hardly, or never out: resembling such as keep possession of a place, from whence they are seldom removed, but by some great danger, or bloodshed: for as of little Brooks proceed great Rivers, so from small sparks of JEALOUSY arise great flames of distemperature, and then to trouble; such a one with good counsel, is but to augment his pain with suspicion the more: and as a certain writer speaks very well. 
No thraldom like the yoke of JEALOUSY,  
A yoke that makes the living (still) to die:  
It is the gnawing Vulture of the mind,  
For which nor Wit, nor Counsel, help can find.   JEALOUSY itself shall be quite taken away, as the saying is, Sublata causa tollitur Effectus, I mean the Effects thereof, & that which is more than needeth, for as we see that in a sick body we may expel all superfluities, with purgations, and all gross humours from thence, either by fit Medicine, or by abstinence from Meats, or by forbearing of Drinks, or such like good and wholesome kind of Diet: Even so, with Wisdom, Discretion, and 
v Patience is the Mother of Opportunity, she presenting herself to them that nourish her Daughter carefully, when (before Rashness and Anger) she goeth invisibly, and hindereth them from what they most thirst after, and therefore 
Patience prevails 'gainst wrongs; effects them All  
In Time; when Haste headlong makes Men to fall.  And to this effect another writeth thus. 
The Minds afflictions, Patience can appease,  
It Passions kills, and healeth each Disease.  And a third man thus. 
Patience is praise, Forbearance is a Treasure,  
Sufferance an Angel, Rage's a Fiend sans measure:  
Let gentle Patience profit thee, for Patience is a thing,  
Whereby a Beggar gaineth of a discontented King.   Patience, may we easily drive away and expel the Force and Rage of JEALOUSY, either more or less, according to the orders before appointed; and so again by the contrary reasons (wanting the foresaid discreet remedies) it sometimes bursteth out so far, and exceedeth beyond her bounds so much, as it turneth itself into extreme Hatred, and from thence falleth into a Frenzy, and Madness, not alone against the party it loveth, or his adversary or Rival, but as well against all such, who, as he thinks, may be any way an obstacle or let, to hinder or cross him in his design and purpose, whereupon have ensued most cruel revengements, and most horrible and savage murders, beyond all common sense and reason; yea, many times against their own reputations and Honours, and against their own proper selves, and lives, as we may see and read in Histories, as well Ancient as Modern, and as Poets in their fictions and shadows, show more at large, as when they feign how 
x See Ovid's Metamorphosis, for this History, and the other of Calisto at large, which to set down were tedious.  Io was turned into a Cow, through mere JEALOUSY, and Calisto into a Bear, and the Tale of Procris, who by chance was slain by her own Husband Shafalus.  

y The like tragical Tale may you read in Plato's Moral discourses, of this Cyanippus, and of another called Emilius, where the Curious may content himself every way.  Plato likewise, a most grave and veritable writer, affirmeth such an other disaster to have happened unto the Wife of one called Cyanippus, and of a second man cleped Emilius: but the most 
z These two first Tragedies, the one of a Captain of Nocera, a Town belonging to the Dukedom of Spoleto in Italy: and the other of a Knight of Milan, you shall find in divers Italian Authors, diversly set down, and as well translated (but that he is a little too tedious in his phrase of speech) into English by Sir Geoffrey Fenton Knight, one of our late Queen Elizabeth's (of everliving memory) privy Counsel in Ireland.  strangest and horrible murders committed in these our days, through the fury of JEALOUSY, were these three: the one by a Captain of Nocer● (a City in Italy) upon his Lord and Master, by reason of his Wife: the second more execrable than the other, was of a Knight of Milan, a follower of the Lord Trivultio, who causeless (through the devilish instinct of this hellish JEALOUSY) slew his fair and virtuous wife, only because he could not endure that any man should match with her, after his own death: and that done, He, with the self-same bloody dagger, stabbed himself through his own heart. The third and last, was, (as I have been credibly informed by a Venetian Merchant, a friend of mine, trafficking in the famous City of London,) perpetrated by a 
a This was W. C. of C. in the County of York Esquire; who practised murder upon his fair and virtuous Wife, but committed the same upon two young Infants, his Sons, the 23. of April (then S. George's day) in Anno 1605. For which he was executed on Monday the 5. day of May, next following.  young Gentleman of a great House in ENGLAND, who left his fair Wife for dead, after he had butchered two lovely Babes, his own little Sons, and intending to have killed the third, but that he was by great good fortune, prevented of this his bloody purpose.  
But leaving to speak any more of such Tragical and unmanly attempts as these, I say, there are some that deserve to be reprehended, in the sharpest manner that may be, who, knowing that Love is in God, nay rather, that he is the first Love, and the occasion of all other good Affections whatsoever, are so sottish as to suppose, that their is JEALOUSY, after the same manner in him, as there is in us, which is mere and monstrous Blasphemy, for one (but in thought) to conceit as much, they not knowing, or at leastwise forgetting, that all things in God, or which are attributed unto him, are in him, after another different manner, than they are in us, because, that Love which is in God, is mere Piety and 
b Of the marriage of Charity with her other two Sisters Faith and Hope, there is a pretty Tale, which is this: About the Beginning of the world, these three Sisters, left Heaven, to come down here to the earth, to get good Husbands: and such was Faiths good fortune, as she stayed not long, but sped of her purpose: for Abraham, who was the Father of the Faithful, took her quickly to Wife. Hope seeing her Sister's good hap, had good hope to meet with the like good match, yet stayed she somewhat long, before she could speed; but in the end David took her to his Spouse: for he always hoped in God, and as he saith, My Soul hopeth in the Lord. But poor Charity had the worst luck of the three; for ever since her first coming hither, she hath wandered up and down and none would entertain her, nor as yet will; so that (by reason the world is so cold in Charity,) she is like to remain a Virgin still, and so return to the better place, from whence she first came.  Charity, and is in him endless, whereas the Affection and Love, which men bear one to another, hath his End as well as his Beginning: But this Subject, is too deep and bottomless a Sea, for the light plummet of my Shallow wit to sound, and too high a Mystery for my slender conceit to dive or search into the secrets thereof: And therefore rendering most humble thanks unto that Almighty 
c We will in our Notes, as we began, so conclude with God, who as he is the Beginning of All things, so is he the End, ALPHA and OMEGA; He is the First LOVE, and the Last LOVE, and is CHARITY itself: than which nothing more precious, since he that dwelleth in CHARITY, dwelleth in God, and what more secure? and God in him, then, what more delectable? and to conclude: 
God is all Love, Affection, Charity,  
Which hath no end but is eternally.   Power, who is All in All, knoweth All, and can do All; and acknowledging myself much beholding unto All here, for your extraordinary and undeserved Patience, I rest,  
A most devoted Servant unto you All, B. V.  
FINIS.