THE ROGVE: OR THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE.  
WRITTEN IN SPANISH by MATHEO ALEMAN, Servant to his Catholic Majesty, and borne in SEVILL.  
LONDON, Printed for Edward Blount. 1623.   

ALL ILLUSTRE SENNOR, DON IVAN ESTRANGWAYES ESPEIO DE LA VIRTVD Y NOBLEZA, Cavallero Titulado, y gentilhombre de la Camara de Su Serenissima Magesdad de la gran Bretana.  
Sennor mio; No he querido encomendarmi Picaro á la protecion de los Reyes, y Principes. Porque, demas que no convienen tales personas à sus Magesdades y Grandezas, an hecho particulares Leyes muy rigorosas, y Pragmaticas severas contra los que lo hazen.  
Ni tampoco a los Consejeros de Estado. Porque, aunque à caso los tengan, no see siruen, ni gustan delloes, si no por su proprio interes, ò razon de Estado.  
A los juezes, menos. Porque son enemigos mortales de la pobreza, y de los, que no tienen dineros.  
Pero, à vuestra Senoria si; (aunque no sin reçelo) por amor de los grillos, y çien açotes bien pagadoes. Siendo vuestra Senoria Governador principal en su tierra, y uno de los Corregidores de Loçanos, y Picaros. Yo se muy bien, que vuestra Senoria puede echar mano à mi Picaro, y agarrarle, para llevarle à la Carcel, y detenerle en ella. Yo confiesso, que era todo quanto malo se puede dezir. Arrojado, y desuanecido, inconsiderado, descuydado, confuso, desordenado, indiscreto. Era reboltoso, y amigo de novedades. Tenia sutilezas, invenciones, y enganoes. Era importuno, y porfiado, semejante all navio, que anda dando boards en la ribera, y nunca acaba de tomar puerto. Era como una pared, que cada momento estava para desmoronarse, y caer en tierra. No tenia firmeza en su voluntad; no tomava resolution, en lo que auia de hazer; No Sabia refrenar sus passiones; Hinchosele la cabeça de viento, desuaneçio en embelecos; Dando consejo à los otros, no sabiendo los tomar para si. Donde llegò à triste fortuna, y surety, a Lazeria, mezquindad, de sarrapamiento, estrema miseria, y necessidad, y en fin, à las Galeras.  
Con todo esso como los Picaros tienen entrada en las Casas de Senores', no desconfio, que este nino de la Piedra, serà bien recebido de vuestra Senoria, y en toda verdad, due estimarse en mucho.  
Porque, aunque habla mucho, pero no sin sustancia. No se puede dezir ser todo hoja, y no tener fruto. O, que nuestro Picaro es gran Charlatan; que tiene muchas palabras, y en ellas poco de que echar mano, que sea de consideration. Tira à does hitoes, por diversos caminos, dando à entender una cosa con sus palabras, y haziendo lo contrario en sus obras. Hallarà vuestra Senoria (como dizen) entre Col, y Col, Lechuga. Variedad de cosas para entretener, y recrear, para que no nos enfademos, tratando siempre una cosa. Trayendo tanta variedad de razones, quantas colores tiene un Pintor. No es como Elecho, yerua sin tallo, sin flor, y sin simiente. Las rasuras, que salen de las pieças de açofar, quando se tornean, en si valen poco, y quando las recogen, hazen bulto; pero echadas à derretir, se bueluen en muy poco. Tales son las palabras vanas de los Charlatanes, y Habladores. Que, si los apurais, tienen poca sustancia.  
Pero este Picaro, no es holgaçan, que esta papando viento, como los fuelles. Grande es el provecho, la utilidad, y ganancia, que del se saca. Estremado es en sus dichos, y donayres, y comprehend, y encierra muchas moralidades, unas dentro de otras. Es muy graçioso: Es (como dizen) una sal.  
Diran algunos; Que es todo intricado, confuso, mal-digesto, revefado. Mienten. Ants todo al contrario.  
Por el hilo, se saca el ovillo: y por lafoy muestra, y principio de una cosa, se conoçe lo demas della.  
O que natural fuerça de entendimiento! O, como da en el blanco! Como tira à punteria. No tira, (como otros) à tiento, à troche moche, de donde diere, si no con orden, y buen concierto. Aduertiendo à todos, que no ensucien sus manos en cosas viles, ni hagan cosa sea, O indecente; si no, que se recojan, y que paren, y obedescan all freno de la razon.  
Mi Picaro, es hombre de bien. No es de aquelloes Vellacoes de Madrid, que pregonan vino, y venden vinegar. De los, que prometen cosas buenas y altas, y despues son ordinarias y frivolas.  
No digo mass, sino que me he engolfado en un negocio muy dificultoso. pardon me vuestra Senoria. No pude menos. Quales las cadenas, quales las ataduras de es labones nigeridos unos en otros, son la importunidad de los Amigos, y la propria promesa? Estando desta manera empenado, me few menester para satisfazer con mi obligation; y aviendome engargantado el pie en el estrivo, no pude tan facilment sacarlo.  
You me he puesto las faldas en cinta, para passar mi Carrera; See mi poco valour, y flaqueza, y que alo menos, si no he errado, he tropeçado. Pero, si vuestra Senoria sera seruido de tenerla por buena, y suficiente, y que he hecho mi dever sin falta, O Fealdad, el Torneo no sera malo, teniendo Padrino tan noble para abonarme.  
El que buelue las palabras y conceptos de una lengua en otra à menester tener fidelidad, prudencia, y sagacidad, y ygual noticia de ambas Lenguas, y lo que en ellas se dize por alusiones, y terminos metaforicos, y mirar lo, que en esta otra Lengua se puede corresponder. Muchos vierten; y 'las mas vezes, pervierten.  
El Picaro, esta trasladado. Plega à Dios, que di mi mano no sea mal tradado. Traducido, si; Si traslucido, bien esta. El Picaro de Aleman ha mudado so Vestido; so Traje, no es all modo de Espana, si no de Inglaterra. Si yo le he puesto en so punto y ser, muy venturoso soy. Guard me Dios, de mala noche, y parir hija. Ay tall desconsuelo en el mundo como trabajar mucho en un negocio, y alcabo no suceder como se deseava.  
En algunos lugares, hallo mi Guzmanico escuro como lafoy noche. Pero, yo he hecho algunos Escolios, para quitar los Escollos. Espero buen puerto. Pero, si à caso se 'em braveçe la Mar de Maldiçion, si las Olas creçen, con la espuma de los Deslenguadoes, si este mi pobre Vaxel no tiene fuerça para contrastar las Tempestades amenazadas, me desnudare, y arrojare con impetu y furia en la Mar, dexandole à la inclemencia destos Toruellinos, y espiritus turbulentos. Confiando, que vuestra Senoria me dara lafoy mano, para Sacarme fuera de un Abismo tan peligroso, no sufriendo se anegue y perezca en la Mar, ahogandose en ella, uno que es tan  
Aficionado à vuestra Senoria; como Don Diego Puede— Ser; de Santa Maria Magdalena.   

TO DON FRANCISCO DE ROIAS', MARQVESSE DE POZA, LORD OF THE HOUSE DE MONCON, Precedent of the Council de HAZIENDA to his Majesty, and the Courts belonging thereunto.  
OF all those things in this world, which are wont amongst men to cause the greatest fear, I know not any that may be greater, or of equal compare to that of an evil intention, and secret ill meaning. And by so much truly the more, by how much it shall be the more deeply rooted in those that are of obscure Blood, humble Birth, and base minds. For in such, it is usually more forcible, and less corrigible. But both of them, the one and the other, are like unto Hunters; who (taking up some close standing shadowed over with boughs) lie in wait for our destruction, and even then, after that we have received our death's wound, we are never awhit the nearer in discovering whence our hurt came. These are Basilisks, whom if we view them first, their poison loseth its force, and is of so much the less prejudice; but if they once gain the hand of us (by getting a kind of dominion over us) they bring us in danger of our utter undoing. They are a scandal to a Commonwealth, the promoting Knaves of Innocence, and the very executioners of Virtue; against whom the wisdom of man is not of power to prevail, or able to guard itself. Of these kind of men, from whose subtle gins (as traps tending to death) no person lives secure, I (for mine own part) have ever been more afraid then of any other beasts, how fierce or hurtful so ever. And more especially in this present occasion, wherein a large field is laid open unto them, wherein they may sow the seed of their venom, calumniating me (at the least) with the reproachful attribute of an overbold and rash-headed fellow, that I should presume to offer to so powerful a Prince, so poor a gift. Not considering, that this my boldness first grew from that necessity, where-into their fear had put me. For, as those Cities that are weakly fortified, meanly manned, and of small force for defence, have so much the greater need of brave and worthy Captains to maintain them, by resisting the furious violence, and sharp assaults of their enemies: So in like manner was it needful for me, to help myself, and make use of your Lordship's protection, in whom, with so much splendour and glory, are made manifest to the world's view, those three parts (Virtue, Blood, and Power) whereof true Nobleness is composed. And because it is a peculiar property belonging there-unto, to favour and protect those, who (as to a Sacred place) withdraw themselves thither for their better safety, I rest so secure under the shadow of your Lordship's protection, and rely so much upon your noble disposition, that you stretching out the wings of your accustomed clemency, my book shall under them (as Chickens under the Hen's wing) remain free from those that shall seek to wrong it: And together therewith obtain this happiness, that you making that great, which in itself is little, admitting a poor Picaro, to become a Courtier, shall give a being to that which had none before, a work of such Greatness and Excellency, as shall make your Lordship to appear the more. Whose long and happy life is desired of no man more than  
MATHEO ALEMAN.   

To the Uulgar.  
TO me it is no new thing (though perhaps it be to thee) to see (O thou vertue-hating Vulgar) the many bad friends that thou hast; that little, which thou deservest, and that less, which thou understandest: To behold, how biting, how envious, how covetous thou art; how quick in defaming, how slow in honouring; how certain in ill, how uncertain in good; how facile to fly out, and how hard to be kerbed in. What Diamond is there so hard, which thy sharp teeth do not grind to powder? What virtue escapes Free from thy venomous tongue? What piety do thy actions protect? What defects doth thy cloak cover? What Treacle do thy eyes behold, which do not like the Basilsske impoyson? What Flower, though never so cordial, ever entered thorough thy ears, which in the Hive of thy heart thou didst not convert into poison? What sanctity hast not thou calumniated? What innocence hast not thou persecuted? What singleness of heart hast not thou condemned? What justice hast not thou confounded? What truth hast not thou profaned? In what green field hast thou set thy foot, which thou hast not defiled with thy filthy luxuries? And if it were possible to paint forth to the life the true fashion of hell, and the torments thereof, thou only, in my judgement, mightst (and that truly) be its perfectest counterfeit. Thinkest thou (peradventure) that passion blindeth me, that anger moveth me, or that ignorance violently thrusts me on? No verily. And if thou couldst but be capable of seeing thy own error, but suffer thyself to be informed, (only but with turning thy head aside) thou shouldst find thy actions aeternized, and even from Adam reproved, as thou thyself art already condemned. But alas, what amendment may be expected from so inveterated a Canker? Or who is he, that can be so happy, as to unclue himself from this Labyrinth, or to unseaze himself from thy griping talons? I fled from the confused Court, and ●…hou followedst me into a poor Village; I withdrew myself into solitary Shades, and there thou madest a shot at me, and drewest thy venomous shafts at me; never letting me alone, but still vexing and pursuing me, to bring me under thy rigid jurisdiction, and tyrannical Empire. I am well assured that the protection which I carry with me, will not correct thy crooked disposition, nor give that respect, which in good manners thou owest, to his noble quality, nor that in confidence thereof I should get free from thy arresting hand. For thou despising all goodness and civility, (which are things that never yet came within the reach of thy better consideration) hast rashly and unadvisedly bitten so many illustrious and worthy persons, extolling some for their wit (though idle) accusing others for their lightness, and defaming a third of lies and falsehoods. Thou art Must campestris, a very Fieldmouse, and no better. Thou art still nibbling on the hard rind of the sour and unsavoury Melons, but when thou comest to those that are sweet and wholesome, and fitter for nourishment, thy stomach falls into a loathing, thou canst not feed on them without surfeiting. Thou imitatest that importunate, troublesome, and eare-offending Fly (through his untuneable buzzing) the Scarabee, who not dwelling on the sweeter sort of Flowers, flies from forth the delicate Gardens, and pleasant Woods, for to settle on a Cowe-sheard, fall upon a dunghill, and other such like noisome places. Thou dost not make any stay upon the high moralities of diviner wits, but only content'st thyself with that which the Dog said, and the Fox answered; this cleaves close unto thee; this, when thou hast read it, remaineth still with thee, and having made it once thine own, is never again forgotten. O unfortunate Fox, that thou must be likened to one of these, and must, like these, be reviled and persecuted, like an unprofitable and mischievous member in a Commonwealth! I will not enjoy the privilege of thy honours, nor the freedom of thy Flatteries, though thou wouldst enrich me with all the wealth of thy praises. For the commendation of wicked men, is but shame and dishonour. And I rather desire the reprehension of the good; because the end for which they do it, is like unto themselves, than thy depraved estimation, which cannot be but bad. Thou takest too much liberty unto thee, thou art an unbridled beast, a headstrong jade; and, if occasion of matter be offered unto thee, thou runnest away with it, thou kickest, and flingest, thou tramplest men's good names under thy feet, thou breakest all bounds of modesty, and tearest all in pieces that stands in thy way, and whatsoever else shall seem good unto thee. But these fair Flowers, which thou so scornfully treadest under thy feet, crown the Temples of the virtuous, and give a fragrant and odoriferous smell in the nostrils of those that are noble. The deadly razour-wounding slashes of thy sharp tusks, and the mortal strokes made by thy hands, shall heal the man that is discreet, under whose warm shade, I shall happily be defended from all the storms and tempests of thy blustering malice.   

To the discreet Reader.  
IT is usual with some, that are troubled in their sleep with sad and melancholy dreams, to strive so strongly with their imagination (that without being otherwise moved at all) after they are awakened and come to themselves, remain so broken and tired out, as if they had wrestled and tugged hand to hand with some brave fierce Bull. And such a one for all the world do I find myself in getting out of my former Proem, my mind still beating upon the Barbarism, and dis-equall number of those ignorant Dolts, to whose censure I submitted myself, it faring therein with me, as with him, who thrusts himself into a voluntary exile, having not the power afterwards in his own hands to reverse his banishment. I did engage myself by promise to compose this book, and now I am enforced to hold my honest word. I must confess I made a false Vie, and did set up my rest in jest, but now I am driven to see it in earnest. For it is the word, that binds the Player. I know full well (considering the rudeness of my wit, and shortness of my studies) that it had been very fit in me to fear the Career that I am to make; and that this liberty and licence of mine is more than needed, and might well have been spared; But considering with myself, that there is not any Book so bad, out of which some good may not be drawn, it may be possible, that in that wherein my wit was wanting, the zeal which I had to profit others, may supply that defect, by working some virtuous effect; which happiness if I light upon, it shall be a sufficient reward of my greater pains, and make this my boldness, m●…re worthy your pardon. I shall not need with the discreet to use long Proemes, nor prolix circumlocutions. For neither can the eloquence of words vainly work him, nor the force of speech dotingly persuade him to more than what is just; nor doth his felicity consist in the procuring of his favourable Censure. I remit myself to his correction; I crave his helping hand to uphold my weakness, and put myself wholly under his fair protection.  
And thou, (O Reader) that art desirous to profit hereby, if thou wilt but truly consider me, when I wrote this Book, and that common good, to which I had then an eye, thou wilt not conceit, that what hath been done therein, was haply performed by me for private Interest, or undertaken for ostentation of wit; for I did never so much as pretend it, nor could I find that sufficient worth in me, to put myself upon my wings in so vain a flight.  
Some perhaps will say, That having (like unto Watermen) turned my back and eyes the contrary way, (who look one way, and row another) I direct this little Bark of mine, where I have most desire to land. But upon mine honest word, he is deceived, that so thinketh. For it was my sole purpose, to guide the prow for the public good, if I might be worthy to obtain so great a blessing, and that my labour might serve to so good a use. Thou shalt find many things not so clean wrought, but like Painters first colours, laid on with a careless hand and slubbered over, which I did omitto polish and flourish over for some causes, that gave hindrance thereunto. Others are somewhat more refined, and better shadowed, which I did willingly avoid to follow, and was loath to finish them to the full, being as fearful, as careful of committing some unadvised error, or un-conceived offence. Others I boldly unmasked and laid open to discovery, as worthy to be drawn without a veil, and fit to be presented to public view. I have much to say unto thee, and desire so to d●…e, yet may not tell it thee. I have written unto thee, yet have I left out much of what I would have written. Read so, as it becomes thee to read, and do not scoff at my Fable; and if it shall receive entertainment at thy hands, accept these lines, which I give thee, and with them, the mind wherewith they be offered unto thee. Do not cast them, as dust and sweep of the house, upon the dunghill of oblivion; consider that there may be some filings and pare of price; rake them out, gather them into a heap, and when they come to a convenient quantity, put them into the crisole of thy consideration; give to them the fire of the Spirit; and I assure thee, thou shalt extract some gold from them, wherewithal to enrich thyself. These Arrows are not all of mine own Quiver, nor this honey that I set before thee, all of mine own hive; much of their sweetness did I suck from holy and learned men; this is merchantable ware, well-conditioned; and for such I recommend it unto thee. And because there is no goodthing, which doth not proceed from the hands of God; nor any thing so bad, whereof some glory doth not result to his divine Majesty (as having a part in every thing) embrace, and give a friendly reception to that which may be profitable for thee, rejecting that which is otherwise, or whatsoever else is bad, as merely mine: Albeit I am very confident, that those things which cannot hurt, are wont many times to do much good.  
In this Discourse, thou mayst moralise things, as they shall be offered unto thee; Thou hast a large margin left thee to do it; That, which thou shalt find less grave, or discomposed, presents itself in the person of a Picaro, or Rogue; which is the Subject of this Book. Such things as these (which are not very many) sport thyself a while with them, jest & play the wag, and afterwards shake hands with them. For at great Feasts, we must have meats for all mouths; and dishes for all tastes; Pleasant and sweet wines, which must cheer the heart, and help digestion; and music for to please and delight the ears.  
Vale, Amice.   

A Declaration for the better understanding of this BOOK.  
Having written this Poetical History, with purpose to have it printed in one only Volume, in the discourse whereof those doubts might be cleared, which now (being divided) might offer themselves; it appeared (to my seeming) a very just thing, to remove this inconvenience, being it might easily be done, and that in very few words. For which purpose, it is to be pre-supposed, That Guzman de Alfarache, our Picaro, having (by his study) come to be a good Latinist, Rhetorician, and Grecian (as we shall deliver unto you in this first Part) after that he had returned out of Italy into Spain, he went forward in his Studies, with purpose to profess the state of Religion, and to make himself a Churchman. But by reason of his often relapsings to his Vices, he left that course, after he had spent some years therein. Now himself writeth his own life from aboard the Galleys, where he remained, and was put to the Oar, for the faults which he had committed, having been a most famous Thief, and notorious Offender, as you shall see more at large in the second Part. Nor is it any impropriety, or beyond our present purpose, if in this first Part I shall set before you some Tracts of Doctrine: But rather seemeth agreeable unto reason to present unto you a man of a clear understanding, holpen by Learning, and punished by Time, making benefit of that idle time, which he had in the Galleys; Being that we likewise see many ignorant poor souls sentenced to death, who being to spend the remainder of their time in thinking on their soul's health, divert their thoughts from all other worldly things, for to make a short studied speech when they come to the Ladder.  
This Book divides itself into three parts: In the first, it is treated of Guzman de Alfaraches going forth of his mother's house, and the slender consideration of young men in those endeavours which they attempt: And how, though their eyesight be clear, they will not see, precipitated and blinded with their false pleasures. In the second, the life of a Picaro or Rogue, which he underwent, and the lewd tricks which he was led into by ill company, and the time which he idly misspent. In the third, the calamities, and extreme poverty, whereunto he grew, and the inconsiderate courses which he ran into, because he would not take up himself in time; and his obstinacy in not suffering himself to be ruled by those, who were both able and desirous to doehim good. In that which I shall write hereafter, I shall (God willing) give an end to this Story.   

AN ELOGIUM Of ALFONSO de BAROS, Chamberlain to KING PHILIP the third, in praise of this Book, and of MATHEO ALEMAN the Author thereof.  
IF we owe somewhat to those Painters, who in a Treasury as it were of Monuments, or some fair Storehouse, have reserved and leapt up in their linen clothes (though under lines & dumb colours) the pictures of those, who for their Heroical Actions, merited their Tables; As also of those, who by their unworthy carriage gave motion to their Pencils; for that with the pleasing portraiture of the one, and the abhorred aspect of the other, they awaken and stir up our Spirits, through the one's fame, to imitation; and through the others infamy, to fear, and advisement: Much more obligation (without all comparison) have we unto those, who to their full life represent these things unto us in their Histories; who do us more good in what they have written, and have this advantage of the others limming, that their reports and relations do work so strongly, and with that persuasive power upon our imagination, as if we had really and in truth seen both them and all that they did, with these our bodily eyes.  
In these, and all the rest (if there resteth any obligation that may be greater) we have both the light and the life, from this our Author: For in this his History, which he now hangs forth (as Painters do their pictures) in the open street, to the eye of all the world, he hath portraited so to the life, a son of idleness, a loitering Rogue; that there is not any man (though never so ignorant) but will know him at the first sight, for that he is so like his father: Who as he is the parent of all Uices, so this his child came to be the Centre and Gulf of them all, suffering them to embosom themselves within him, receiving in (as sinks do) infinite gatherings, not of waters, but of filth and mire. And being now so far improved in them, that he might serve for an example and pattern unto those, who should dispose themselves to enjoy the like kind of life, the Author's drift is, that no man should adorn himself with such robes as these: For there is not any one so abhorring himself, that at so dear a rate will clothe himself with his Livery, seeing that he paid with a shameful end the punishment of his offences, and the disordinate actions, which his licentious desires did commit. Whose merited and exemplary chastisemen;: is expressed with categorical and strong terms, and with an argument ex contrario; to wit, the reward, & fortunate successes which shall follow him, who living uprightly, and spending his time well, shall in his course of life, apply himself to a certain and determined end, and make himself the opposite, and Antipodes as it were of the inconstant Figure of this ensuing discourse. Wherein, for his admirable order, and good observations, bearing in the face of it the resemblance of a History, the Author hath happily attained the name and office of an Historian, and a Painter; as well in those representations, that are to be seen a far off, as in those shadows, wherewith he hath disguised his instructions, and those his so necessary rules and advertisments, appertaining to a political life, and to Moral Philosophy, whereunto he principally aimed; showing plainly, that which L●…curgus expressed, by the example of those two Whelps of one litter, whereof the one, through good teaching, and a habit he had gotten, followed the hunting of the Hare, till he had killed him; and the other, because he had not been so well bred, in stead of falling to hunting, fell a gnawing the bone which he found in the way: Giving us to understand by infallible demonstrations, the known danger, wherein those children stand, who in their childhood are trained up without obedience and good education by their parents: For without this curb, they rush into the career of their youth, upon the unbridled Horse of their irrational and untamed appetite, which carries them away headlong, and precipitates them into a thousand inconveniences, dashing themselves as upon so many Rocks, till there is not one bone left unbroken, nor one limb left unrent of their life & goods. He likewise showeth unto us, that that man is no less subject to the like misfortunes, who, being destitute of some noble Science, or some special mystery, grounds his hopes upon the untilled doctrine of Nature's school: For without exercising his Talon, or employing his wit, or without putting himself into some profession, (having experimented that art, to which he is most inclineable) he usurpeth offices quite contrary to his own inclination, omitting none which he not embraceth, attempting to make trial of all, losing in all of them both himself, and his time, pretending by his inconstancy and vnsettled disposition, to seem not to be idle; that man being notwithstanding more idle; who puts his Sickle into another man's Corn, and venter's upon a profession that belongs not unto him, than he that sleepeth and takes his ease, or leads the most retired life. This our Treasurer, Matheo Aleman, hath also well defended himself from the like objections, by those just occupations of his life, wherein he busied himself; who doth teach us as well thereby, as by his book, finding therein the opposite of this his History, which he pretendeth to imply: For being bred up in his tender years in the study of humane learning, they could not challenge him of keeping 
* His learning need not call him to an account, how he had spent his idle hours. A Metaphor taken from Magistrates, of whom their Successors do take an account of what things have passed in their ●…ime of residence in the Office. And this is, pedir residencia.  residency in idleness: Much less, that in this his History, he hath thrust himself into another man's profession: for that it is so properly his own, and so annexed to his studies, that the desire he had to write it, withdrew and distracted his thoughts from the honourable entertainment of those his Majesty's papers; (being at that time his Contador) wherein (albeit he were very sufficient for the exercising of that office) yet it seemeth that he was haled thereunto by violence, and against his will; in that he returned afterwards to his former exercise; in the continuation whereof, and by his watchful endeavours, he hath form this book for us, mixing it with that most sweet harmony of delight & profit, which Horace requireth; inviting us with its pleasure, and instructing us with its gravity, taking for its scope, the public good, and for its reward, the common benefit. And because young men shall find in him, the obligation which they have to their parents, who by a good and lawful education, have drawn them out of the darkness of ignorance, by showing them that North-star, which ought to guide them in this confused Sea of their troublesome life, (being as long to the idle, as it is short to those that are well occupied) it shall (in point of good manners) be very unfitting, that the Readers, who are the children of this Books Learning, should show themselves unthankful to their Master, by not throughly esteeming his just Zeal. And if this shall not save him from their rigorous censure, the fault must then be in the inevitable contradiction of the diversity of opinions. Nor is it a thing to be wondered at, but rather natural, and that cannot be avoided: For most certain it is, that a man cannot so write, as that he shall please all: And that whosoever should endeavour it, should but go about to take from Nature her greatest miracle. Nor do I know which is the greater beauty, either that which she placed in that diversity, from whence proceed so many divers opinions; or that of the diverse forms of men's faces. For, for the rest, it were but to say, that all the world were but one man, and one taste.   

AD GUZMANUM DE ALFARACHE, Vincentij SPINELLI Epigramma.  

QVis te tanta loqui docuit Guzmanule? Quis te 
Spinellus.   
Stercore submersum, duxit ad astra modò?  
Musca modò, et lautas epulas, et putrida tangis  
Vlcera; iam trepidas frigore, iamque cales.  
jura doces, suprema petis, medicamine curas,  
Dulcibus et nugis seria mixta doces.  
Dum carpisque alios, alios virtutibus auges,  
Consulis ipse omnes, consulis ipse tibi.  
jam sacrae Sophiae virides amplecteris umbras,  
Transis ad obscoenos sordibus indè iocos.  
Es modò divitijs plenus, modò paupere cultu,  
Tristibus et miseris dulce levamen ades.   

Sic speciem humanae vitae, sic praefero solus 
Guzman.   
Prospera complectens, aspera cuncta ferens.  
Hac Aleman variè picta me veste decorat,  
Me lege desertum, tuque disertus eris.    

GUZMAN▪ DE ALFARACHE upon his own life.  

Born without Parents, which in my Cradle  
Should have sown such seeds, as might enable  
Me to good; My Youth chose Uico for'ts Father,  
Whose Stepdame, Fortune, quickly did enslave her.   

My Travels, and my Studies found eftsoon  
More Forms, and Changes, then are in the Moon.  
But now my building being ruined quite,  
Like to a Pillar, I only stand in sight,   

Others to fore-warne, what course they run,  
Lest, like myself, they chance to be undone.  
With this Story, my life now liu's again,  
Which in Oblivions pit did dead remain.   

Whose blurs are now in such fair letters writ,  
As Time no more shall triumph over it.  
An unhewn piece of wood, I long have been,  
Knotty, and rugged, rinded up in sin.   

But polished now by this neat Workman's hand,  
And, on the Altar set, as a Memorial stand  
To lesson others, how their lives to lead,  
While I to them, mine own misfortunes read.    

Hernando de Soto, to the Author.  

TWo great things I see  
In this wise book contained be:  
A notable Knave,  
And yet the Author's Subject, grave.  
In it I discern,  
By others harms, how men may learn  
Their own faults t'amend,  
And shape their course to some good end.  
Likewise we may know,  
What Love to goodness we must owe.  
To teach more, none can;  
Nor more be learned of any man.  
'Tis the Common voice,  
So good on either side's the choice.  
Picaro honour gains,  
Aleman immortal remains.    

In GUZMANUM d'ALFARACHIA nobilem Erronem et Praedonem publicum, à clariss. reique militaris expertiss. Duce Don Diego Puede-Ser captum, vinculis constrictum, nec sine ovatione in Britannias perductum.  

ESte procul Elegi:  
Nihil hîc Dolente dignum,  
Vocem premant Epica:  
Non hîc celebratur Heros.  
Fl●…bili nil opus Lyrâ:  
Facilis hîc prostat Venus.  
Sed nec Tubâ Mantuana:  
Bella canuntur bellula.  
Grande nimis reboantes  
Davum dedecent Cothurni.  
Nec jambi turbet furor  
Hilares Lyaei iocos.  
Multoque minùs loripes  
Fugitiwm dic at Scazon.   

Quale iam dic Metri genus,  
Nobilis, Guzmane, praedo,  
Te tuosque mores sonet  
Expertes Legis, Ordinis?  
Nam Marini more Dei,  
Uitijs nunc irritatus  
Leo fremis: Nunc remulcens  
Caudam Canis adularis:  
Colubrinâ saepe linguâ  
Immane quiddam sibilas:  
Saepè Sophi meditantis  
Pendulâ severus togâ  
Uitae praedicas maeandros.  
Uafer sic, et fallis Omnes,  
Et Teipsum multiformis.  
Vt stupore plenum fuat,  
Quibus hamis & catenis  
Illigavit Versipellem,  
Et hoc Monstrum cicuravit;  
Uoce Qui donat Anglicâ?   

Aureis catenis nempe,  
Quibus vinciuntur aures:  
Nempe Circeo poculo,  
Tumidos quod sopit angues:  
Nempe Thracis plectro Lyrae,  
Quae sequaces reddit ursas.  
Hisce comprensus artibus,  
Retrò manibus revinctis,  
Curru positus superbo,  
Per Britanna regna, (Guzman)  
Prodis in pompam publicam.  
I. F.    

To the exact Translator of the famous History of infamous GUZMAN.  

WHen Guzman's Legend was allowed in Spain,  
And, though a Rogue, found Princelike entertain;  
He did o'er Alpes and Pyrene Hills advance  
To tell his Tale in Italy and France:  
With which their native ears being sweetly stung,  
He thievish stole their heart, and bound their tongue  
To speak his praise. At last on Gallic shore  
(Standing like Caesar) thence he did implore  
Some Pegasus, or winged Argoes aid,  
To cross the Britain Seas: Shall they (he said)  
Want only my thrice-seven times printed story?  
Nor know my Odysse's? Nor shall my glory  
Outgo my feet? I come no Spy, nor take  
A Factious part; No sound of War I make,  
But against sin; I land no foreign mates;  
For Virtue's Schools should Free be in all states.   

Straightways thy Gentler spirit (without thirst  
Of Fame or Fare) wafts him ashore, and first  
Shows him the present garb, the parley, and guise,  
In a few weeks; whose Quill both writes and flies  
With equal speed: Then shapes him acquaint and rare,  
That he seems English, nay a Courtier.  
Would you know his Discourse? He biting laughs,  
A Comic Satire, at small faults hescoffes,  
But stabs th' impudent: Now in amorous strain  
He sighs a Lover; Now in busy gain  
He acts a Merchant; Then in learned weeds  
He looks a Student: Ibis-like he feeds  
On public venom, and deserves a Shrine  
(Sooner than he that styled was Divine)  
For purging humours. Now his wishes are  
Outstripped by favour; Then in Galleys bare  
He honours beggary: His whole Theme is Man,  
On which nor Crantor nor Chrysippus can  
More wisely comment; for his life alone,  
Is Precept with Example; So that none  
Can better teach by worse means; who by strange  
Bifronted posture, Ill, to good, doth change.  
So Viper's flesh, the Viper's cure hath been:  
And sinful surfeits, Antidotes for sin.  
So an old Bawd's face, Chasteness doth suggest:  
Vices true Picture, makes us Vice detest,  
More than Grave Plato's wish; For virtue's sight  
Can less allure, than villainy affright.   

Dear Country, then harbour a weary wight,  
Be thou a Delos, to this errant Knight:  
Give the kind Parabien, and gracious eye  
To various mirth: And (Reader) if thou spy  
Thy own self in this Magic glass, Refuse  
No Surgeons hand, but (against the common use)  
Let the Book censure thee; And thank his pain,  
Whose Pen, so gently pricked thy maister-vaine:  
And thank his faithful Convoy; It may be,  
Who scorns base fawning; Love may gratify.   

More is but Due: for as my Scale designs;  
This is the Base, to large and worthy Lines.  
Yours I. F.    

To Don Diego Puede-Ser, and his Translation of GUZMAN.  

AS, few, French Rabelais understand; and none  
Dare in our Vulgar Tongue once make him known,  
No more; our Plodding Linguists could attain  
(By turning Minshewe) to this Rogue of Spain,  
So crabbed Canting was his Author's Pen  
And phrase, e'en dark to his own Countrymen;  
Till, thanks and praise to this Translators pain,  
His Margin, now makes him speak English plain.  
Leo: Diggs.    

On the Author, Work, and Translator.  

WHo tracks this Authors, or Translators Pen,  
Shall find, that either hath read Books, and Men:  
To say but one, were single. Then it chimes,  
When the old words do strike on the new times,  
As in this Spanish Proteus; who, though writ  
But in one tongue, was formed with the world's wit:  
And hath the noblest mark of a good Book,  
That an ill man dares not securely look  
Upon it, but will loathe, or let it pass,  
As a deformed face doth a true glass.  
Such Books deserve Translators, of like coat  
As was the Genius where with they were wrote;  
And this hath met that one, that may be styled  
More than the Foster-father of this Child;  
For though Spain gave him his first air and Vogue,  
He would be called, henceforth, the English-Rogue,  
But that he's too well suited, in a cloth,  
Finer than was his Spanish, if my Oath  
Will be received in Court; If not, would I  
Had clothed him so. Here's all I can supply  
To your desert, who'haue done it, Friend. And this  
Fair Emulation, and no Envy is;  
When you behold me wish myself, the man  
That would have done, that, which you only can.  
Ben: jonson.    

THE PRINTER TO THE Discreet and Curious READER.  
AFter so much as you have read here, uttered in their just Commendation, let it be my minute, to be heard in a line or two for myself: which is, that you would be pleased not to lay my faults on them. I will neither pretend badness of Copy, or his absence, whose province it was to correct it; but pray the amendment of these few escapes (as you find them here-under noted,) before you begin to read: with hope of your pardon, the rather, because it hath been my care they should be no more.  
Ed: Blount.   

Page. Line. Fault. Correct. 9 20. the they than they 11. 23. Labuador Labrador 22. 18. she could he could 36. 43. tumbled tumbling 56. 24. time Air 61. 40. action actions 83. 13. in clearing endearing 87. 17. those that, and those that ibid. 22. whereupon, whereunto 92. 15. Zerezano Xerezano 103. marg. pein pan 109. 55. to be much to be so much 110. 4. many money 114. 16. top toy 122. marg. Cartas Cantos 123. 28. inconhevience inconvenience 156 17. wish to sell wish you to sell ibid. 28. he told he told me 163. 47. to former to my former 168. 45. to is▪ is to 180. 35. for fifty twenty 187. 35 the thee 208 43 vico vico 228. 22. much to to much 236 48 to have have to 239 41 Aprovechom aproucchan 262 6 indisposition in disposition   

A Table of the Chapters and matter contained in the three Books of the first Part.  

CHAP. I. GVzman de Alfarache recounteth who was his Father, and thereupon takes occasion learnedly to discourse of Detractors, and evil speakers, of unconscionable Merchants, of judges, of bad Clerks, of Lites, and Litigants, and that too much neatness in clothes, and nice dressing, is ill in a Woman, and worse in a Man.  
CHAP. II. Guzman de Alfarache goes on, in recounting who were his Parents, and declareth withal who his Mother was; and for our better instruction, describes the evil conditions and bad qualities of a lewd woman, of Bawds; of a sensual and lascivious man, & that the end of dishonest Love, is the wasting of a man's honour, of his wealth, and of himself.  
CHAP. III. How Guzman departed from his Mother's house upon a Friday towards the Evening, discovering by the way the torments of hunger, and that which befell him with his Hostess, recounting many not able examples of some Rules of ill Government.  
CHAP. IU. Guzman de Alfarache recounteth to a Carrier what had betided him with his Hostess: And discourseth of laughing. After that, he tells two short Tales; one, of a covetous Physician; the other of two young men, how they used the said Hostess: And upon the neck of that, falls into a learned discourse, touching the pardoning of injuries.  
CHAP. V. How Guzman and the Carrier did eat of a young Mule, thinking it had been Veal, being cozened by his Host in Cantillana, and discourseth by the way of the cozening tricks, which bad Hosts put upon poor Travellers.  
CHAP. VI Guzman goes on, in recounting what succeeded with his Host of Cantillana, who had given him to eat of his young Mule, and of the misfortunes that befell the said Guzman: And how it is not good upon the way to quarrel with our Host.  
CHAP. VII. Man's misfortune is here discoursed of, and to that purpose you have a story told you of the gods of those ancienter times: And how Guzman, being thought to be a Thief, was apprehended; but afterwards being known what he was, he was set at liberty. One of the Clergymen promiseth to tell us a story, to entertain the time withal, upon the way.  

CHAP. VIII. Wherein Guzman de Alfarache relateth the Story of those two Lovers, Ozmin and Daraxa.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
How Ferdinand and Isabella, King and Queen of Spain, took Baca, a City of the Moors, wherein Daraxa a beautiful and noble Damozel was taken Prisoner, whom Queen Isabella brought with her to seville, and there left her in the custody of Don Lewis de Padilla. And how Ozmin a young Gentleman well descended, and enamoured of that Lady, after he had suffered long sickness for the imprisonment of his fair Daraxa, went to the said City; together with the diverse accidents that happened to them both.     

A Table of the Chapters and matter contained in the second BOOK.  

CHAP. I. HOw Guzman de Alfarache, going out of Caçalla towards Madrid, proves the quality and condition of a miserable man, and upon this occasion, gravely discourseth of the effects of Want, of Shame, and of Castles in the air: And how he came to serve an Host; and of the wicked disposition of such kind of men.  
CHAP. II. How Guzman de Alfarache leaving his Host, went begging to Madrid; and coming thither, how he set himself to learn to play the Rogue, & to bear a Basket; where, by the way he discourseth of Hunger, of Beggary, & of Honour which hurteth the soul.  
CHAP. III. Guzman de Alfarache goes on in his Discourse against vain Honours: where, by the way he offers unto Man's consideration, what manner of person he ought to be, how to bear himself in his Office, and to govern himself in those high places, whereunto he is called.  
CHAP. IU. Guzman de Alfarache delivereth a learned and witty discourse, conceived by himself, against the Uanity of Honour: touching by the way upon the Uices of Seru●…nts▪ of Shopkeepers, of Notaries, of Proctors, of judges, of Artificers, of Apothecaries, of Physicians, and of Lawyers.  
CHAP. V. How Guzman de Alfarache lighted on a Cook's service, and with fair Sentences, and good Lessons, showeth, what he should be that serveth. He blameth gaming, & Gamesters. He declareth a pretty theft performed by him; he relateth the Vices of Despensero's, Cooks, Butlers, and other the like Officers. Of Lords, abused by their servants. Of Kings, and their miserable condition. Of the vanity of Inferiors, contesting with their Superiors. He condemneth those Masters, that ill entreat their servants: And how they ought to carry themselves towards them.  
CHAP. VI Guzman de Alfarache prosecutes that which passed betwixt him and his Master, till being dismissed, he departed from him: And takes occasion here-upon, to condemn Idleness and evil Company, and those inueterated vices in rich men. He recounteth the spoils, and Trophies of Cooks; and tells a merry Story, that past between himself, and the Cook's wife, his Mistress.  
CHAP. VII. How Guzman de Alfarache being put from the Cook his Master, turns Picaro, and proves a notable cunning Rogue. How he having a great desire to see Italy, occasion was offered unto him to effect his purpose, by the help of a theft done upon a Grocer, and how he went shear away with it, and left Madrid.  
CHAP. VIII. How Guzman de Alfarache, clothing himself like a Gallant in Toledo, makes love to certain Gentlewomen: He telleth how things passed with them, & how there, and in Malagon they scorned him; He discourseth of youthful jollity, and of the craft & subtlety of your Spanish women; which may serve for an Instruction, & warning to all young men.  
CHAP. IX. How Guzman de Alfarache lists himself for a Soldier. He telleth, whence that ill phrase grew: En Malagon, en cada casa un ladron; y en lo del Alcalde, hi●…oy padre: In Malagon, every house a Thief; and in that of the Alcalde two: The father and the son. How in a short time, through ill government, all Guzman's money is gone; How to his grief he is forced to serve a Captain. Some lessons are given to young men. To these are added the faults of bad Ministers in matters of war-fare.  
CHAP. X. Guzman de Alfarache declareth the misfortunes, and the wants of one that is decayed in his fortunes: And how he followed a Captain, till he came into Italy; Exercising himself in all kind of thefts great and small, for the relief and help of his Master.    

A Table of the Chapters and matter contained in the third BOOK.  

CHAP. I. GVzman discourseth of poverty, and of the wrongs and outrages, which a poor man endureth; As also of Riches, and of the honours that are done unto the Rich: As likewise of the naughtiness of this present world: And how, not finding his Kindred, which he sought for in Genoa, he went to Rome; and of a i●…st that was put upon him, before he left that City.  
CHAP. II. Guzman discourseth of the unhappiness, greatness, & commendation of Necessity and Want; And how after he was gone from Genoa, he fell a begging. And how, keeping company with other poor beggars, he was instructed by them, of their Statutes, & Laws.  
CHAP. III. How Guzman de Alfarache was not only reprehended by a learned Rogue, & Doctor in his faculty; but likewise how he learned of him some new Orders and Capitulations, concerning this his roguish kind of life, and that which happened unto him in this his upright course; And of many Precepts and Lessons, delivered unto him upon this point by a Cordoveses, an old cunning Crosse-biter.  
CHAP. IU. Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of the Charity that we are to use towards our neighbour; He recounteth what befell him with a Gentleman: And of the free life, and great liberty which a Beggar enjoys.  
CHAP. V. Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of the quality of men's Consciences, and recounteth what happened in his time to a notable Rogue, and famous beggar in Florence, who at his death made the great Duke his heir. He treats of the ambitious man; And delivers in the end, how he was thrust out of Gaeta for his counterfeiting.  
CHAP. VI Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of Alms: And being returned to Rome, he falls afresh to his old Trade of begging. He feigns himself to have a sore leg. A Cardinal taking compassion of him, taketh order, to have him cured in his own house, and to be laid in his own bed. He discovers the knavery of Surgeons, having a bad conscience: And how being cured, he becomes the Cardinal's Page.  
CHAP. VII. Guzman de Alfarache discourseth, how all things have had their time of Empire. He delivereth strange things, touching Truth and Lying. As being Page to the Cardinal; he declareth the Virtue's, and the Vices, wherein your Pages exercise themselves. He relateth a pleasant Story of his stealing of some Conserves, and how he was punished for it.  
CHAP. VIII. Guzman de Alfarache revenges a trick which the Secretary had put upon the Chamberlain, whom he then attended. He tells a tale of Shame and fear; What it is, and how painted forth. He is received again into the Cardinal's service. And how finely he cozened him of a Barrel of Conserves.  
CHAP. IX. Guzman de Alfarache treats of Charity: Discourseth of Masters, kind, and unkind: Telleth of another theft of Conserves. His exercises, and distastes being a Page. He recounteth the tricks he used at Primera. That it is good to know play; but better not to use any gaming at all. And how for playing he was put out of the Cardinal's service. And how proud ignorance is the cause of all evil.  
CHAP X. Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of ill company; of Hospitality; of Patience; and how being put out of the Cardinal's house, he placed himself with the Ambassador of France, where he played some Knavish pranks. He relates a Story, which he heard from a Gentleman of Naples. And ending with that, he gives an end to the first part of his life.    

THE ROGVE: OR, THE FIRST PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE. The first Book.  

CHAPTER I.  
Guzman de Alfarache recounteth who was his Father, and thereupon takes occasion learnedly to discourse of Detractors, and evil speakers, of unconscionable Merchants, of judges, of bad Clerks, of Lites, and Litigants, and that too much neatness in clothes, and nice dressing, is ill in a Woman, & worse in a Man.  
CVrious Reader, The desire which I had to recount my life unto thee, made me make great haste to ingulfe myself therein, without first preparing some things fit to be related, which (serving as an induction and entrance to the matter) had been very needful for the better informing of thy understanding: (for being essential to this Discourse) they would likewise have given thee no small content. But through too much haste, I forgot to shut the door after me, and so unawares have left a way of entrance open, for every wrangling Sophister, and smatterer in Logic, to tax me ofignorance, and to lay it as a fault to my charge, that I did not proceed à definitione ad definitum, from the definition to the thing defined. And that before I took upon me to make Relation thereof, I had not first told thee, who, and what were my Parents, together with their obscure and confused birth: which so much for so much, or as far as concerneth them in their particular, according to their model, and proportion in their kind and degree, would without doubt (had I but undertaken to describe it unto you) been far more pleasing, and more acceptable unto you, than this mine own life. I will rather prefer that, which is of most importance, leaving that which is not lawful for me, to others to undergo that task, and to play out that trick at Cards for me. And albeit it becometh no man, to participate of that property of the Hyena, to make a living by ripping up the lives of the dead, as she doth maintain herself 
The Hyena and her qualities.  by feeding on those carcases which she tears out of graves; I assure myself, considering the Censurers that are now adays to be found in the world, they will not want those that will write their Chronicle. Nor is it a thing to be wondered at, since that this slight shadowing of my Father's life, seemeth to infer, that I pair them too near the quick, or at least, that there went but one pair of shears, between their lives, and mine. And I doubt not, but thou wilt out with thy purse, and give me a thousand rash Attributes; the least whereof shall be either Fool, or Blockhead, or Coxcomb, or the like. For if I cannot conceal mine own faults, you will say, I will make no bones to bewray others. Thy reason is good, and I allow of it, but I would have thee withal to consider, That albeit thou wilt count me but a lewd 
a It is worse to be bad, then to be thought so.  Companion, yet I would not willingly seem so to be, though it be far worse to be so, and to make boast of wickedness. And that by contradicting so just a Precept, as is that fifth Commandment, touching the honour and reverence which I owe them, I should go about to cover mine own weaknesses, by laying open those of my Ancestors. For, it is the birth of vile and base 
b What mind is that, which is base  thoughts, to seek to grace themselves by disgracing others, which is now an ordinary practice, which I condemn for that solemn 
c In your great solemn feasts in Spain, they use to have seven, & in some places eight prebend's with Sceptres of silver in their hands, and Copes of cloth of gold on their backs, when they assist at divine service, and singing of Anthems. From which metaphor this phrase is borrowed.  foolery of six Priests Copes, or double-Feasts; that is to say, for anotorious, and high point of folly. And a greater there cannot be, because therein I discover my bend, and show which way the dint of my edge lieth. And my error is not salved, by wounding the good name of my neighbour, or by traducing my Parent. Besides, the Detractor never heareth well, but is evil spoken of by all men. But to me, it doth not succeed so; for in the setting forth and adorning of this History, (it being necessary that myself must needs do it) no man but will say, God's blessing be with him, that so truly resembles his Parents, casting upon me these their good wishes by the way. Again, his life was so well known, and all that he did, so manifest to all the world, that to pretend the denying of it, were mere folly, and an open 
d Arresto, is a French word: but because it is Spaniolized, I say, Arresto, is as much as a Decree, or Sentence confirmed in the Supreme Counsel, from which there is no Appeal. So says Casaneus in his Catol. gloriae Mundi. Arrestum firmum, & fixum, à quo nemo provocare possit. And it is a mere Greek Word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, placitum, gratum, aequum. That it is pronounced with a double rr: the reason is, for that the French is a Virile tongue. Resto consignado, is the set rest agreed upon at Primero, which they may not pass. But jugar à resto abierto, vale, sin tassa, without limitation; when a man may set what he will: The Reader may take which sense be best liketh.  Arrest, and free liberty given for the occasioning of new matter of murmuration to be brought against him. And therefore I am persuaded, that I do them (if I may use that phrase of speech) a notorious courtesy, in expressing the pure, and true naked Text, wherewith I will give the lie to those glosses, which have been made thereupon. For as often as any one mentioneth any thing of him, or recounts aught of his, he adds thereunto, and multiplies it with the Ciphers, which are set to his own Spectacles, or as it pleaseth him; sometimes making more, but never less, as the vain comes upon him, and as the toy for the present takes him in the head. For there is a certain kind of men, that when matter is offered suiting to their purpose, for to make their tale square, and to hang well together, will lessen a Pyramid of Egypt, and make of a Gnat an Elephant, gather evidence from surmises; sight from hearing; and knowledge from opinion, only for to flourish their eloquence, and to credit their discretion. Thus it usually falleth out, and this was to be seen in a Gentleman a Stranger, whom myself knew in Madrid: Who being much affectioned to Spanish Horses, and desirous to carry home with him to his own Country a true and faithful Counterfeit, as well for his own entertainment and delight, as that he might show the same to his friends. And for that he was of a Nation far remote, and it being neither permitted, nor possible for him, to carry them home alive, having in his own stable two of the fairest of stature, and feature, that were to be found in all the Court: he entreated two famous Painters, that each of them would draw one, as they should agree upon their choice; promising (besides their due) a certain reward to him that should surpass the other in workmanship. The one painted a pied Horse, with that perfection, that he only failed in that, which was impossible for him to do, to wit, in giving him life, and soul. For, in the rest (deceiving the sight, because it did little, or nothing at all differ from the natural) it would on the sudden have blinded any careless eye, and at the first blush amazed his understanding, for that there was no difference between a living Horse and it. With this only did he fill and finish his Table, giving in the rest Lights and shadows, as might suit best with each several part.  
The other drew a Dapple-gray (that heaven-resembling colour) and though his work were very good, yet it came very short of that before delivered; yet in one thing, he went much beyond him, wherein he showed himself his crafts-master. And it was this: when he had painted his Horse, in those other parts of the Table, where he found blanks, or void places, in those that were uppermost, he drew admirable Landscapes, and other representations of things afar off, as clouds in the air; streaks in the sky, and other fiery colours of the heavens, occasioned by the reflex of the Sunsetting beams, ruinated buildings, and other diversities of rare Architecture. And in the lower part, nearest to the ground; he had graced his work with many fine Groves, dainty Flowers, green Meadows, and craggy Rocks. And on the one side of the Table, that made fittest for that purpose, he had fastened all the furniture, belonging to his Horse, to the body of a Tree, at the foot whereof stood a Saddle, Gennet-fashion, so costly, and so curiously wrought, and with that excellency of Art, as it cannot be endeared too much, or expressed to that life it deserveth.  
When this Gentleman saw his Tables, and liking them wonderful well (as he had reason so to do) he first paid him, with whom he had first agreed, and not sticking upon that which he demanded for it, giving in reward to that ingenious Painter a rich ring from off his finger, he sent him away well satisfied, having paid him over & above the price for which they bargained.  
Now the other grew so fond conceited, & so foolishly in love with his own work, and was so vainly transported with hope of a liberal and frank payment, that he required such an excessive price, as was beyond all reason.  
The Gentleman, being strooken blank, and put to a nonplus, that he should ask him so much, and that he had scarce wherewithal to pay him, said unto him; Tell me (my friend) why shouldest thou ask me so much; or why dost thou not consider with thyself what this other piece cost me, whereunto thine cannot be compared; nor comes nothing near it? For the Horse (indeed Sir, answered the Painter) your Worship speaks reason. But the very trees, and ruins, that are in mine, are worth as much as all the others work. To whom the Gentleman replied; It is neither fitting, nor necessary for me to carry home with me such a volume of trees; such a bulk of ill combined buildings; and such a deal of lumber and luggage as is here, when we have many fair and goodly houses in our own Country. Besides, I have not that affection to these toys, as I have unto Horses. And that which I cannot otherwise enjoy but by picture, that alone I desire to carry along with me.  
The Painter again made answer; In so great and large a piece; a sole single Horse will not show so well. And if for nothing else, yet at least for the delight of the Eye, and the gracing of the Square, it not only importeth a Painter, but even enforceth him sometimes to compose a Picture of other different things, besides the Master piece, that may qualify it the better, and give it the more delicate lustre. So that, this seeming fairer to the sight, and presenting itself with that pleasure as it doth, you will grant me this, I hope; That it is very fit, that a horse should have his bridle, and his saddle, together with his trappings, and all other things belonging to a perfect and complete furniture; especially being so curiously wrought, with so clean a hand, and such exquisite Art, that if you would give me other such as these, though they were all of Gold, I would not take them in exchange for those that you see here drawn. The Gentleman having now found a string whereupon to play, and caught hold of that, which he most desired, which was the Picture, that he had already paid for (the other esteeming impertinent, though in its kind very good, and much to be commended) and not finding himself so over-stored with money, as to part with so much as he required, discreetly said unto him; I only bargained with you for the Horse, and (for that the work is good, and well wrought) I will (if you be pleased to sell it me) pay you accordingly. As for the furniture, you may keep it to yourself, or bestow it upon those, that have a mind to it, for I have no need of it. The Painter went away discontented, and unpaid, by reason of the excessive rates he 
He that does that which he ought not, that haps to him, which he thinks not.  had set upon his Picture; and for that out of his own choice, he had wilfully overlashed his discretion, thinking with himself, that because his Work was more, he should be the more rewarded.  
It hath been (and still is) a common and general custom amongst men, 
The effects of Detractors.  when you entreat them to recite what they know in this, or that other thing; or to report what they have heard, or seen; or to tell you the truth and substance of a business, to prepare colours to slick it over, and to paint and disguise it, that you can no more know the face of it, than the countenance of an old Hag, that is plaisterd over with painting. Every one gives his shadowings after his own fancy: one while amplifying; another while moving passion; sometimes disannulling, and sometimes diverting, as the humour takes him. Now he stretcheth it with his teeth, that he may make the Leather retch: By and by again, he fileth and polisheth it, till he have made it fit for his purpose, that he may cut and grave therein what he list; putting it an Ace, or a Sice higher, if it please him so to do. Making, like another Count 
* The Count Palatines, anciently in Rome, had power and privilege to legitimate Bastards, to give degrees, and Titles of honour in learning, or otherwise. Vide Couarru●…ias in Vocabulo Palatino.  Palatine, a Fool, a Wise man; a filthy-faced fellow, a beautiful person; and a Cowardly Villain, a valiant Hercules. They set the Caract and worth upon things, as they please to value them; not remembering, that they may paint a Horse well enough, though they leave him bare-ridged, and without his furniture; and report a thing true enough to the life, without commenting upon it. Just so hath it fared with my father, of whom to speak the truth, things are so falsified, that nothing is now said of him, which was so indeed. They have (with Celestine) of tres made treze, of three, thirteen; and of thirteen, three hundred. For every one thinks it fit to add somewhat: so that Molehills are grown to be Mountains, and such a confused Chaos, and rhapsody of things huddled one on the neck of another, that there is no bottom of them, nor can there any ground for them be found: every one encouraging himself by the additions of others, (one growing still upon another.) And that wrong which every particular person in himself was not able to do, by a general helping hand, and common consent of all men, is become more grievous. There are some deceitful and false tongues, which, like sharpe-headed Artowes, and hot burning Coals, have gone about to wound the honour, and consume to ashes the good name of my Parents; whence both to them, and myself, diverse notable affrents do daily redound. It is to be imagined, and you may very well believe me, that if it lay in our hands, to make our own choice (but beggars must be no choosers) out of that mass of Adam, and first lump of flesh, I would have scrambled hard for one of the best morsels, though I had been forced to go to Cuffs for it: But there is no help for that; Every man must be content with that which falls to his lot: we may not be our own Carvers. But since he that hath shared these things amongst us, keeps them in his own hands, and knows when and where to bestow them, and what is fittest for every man, let us praise his holy Name. For though I had (God be thanked for it) my 
a Allud●…ng to Jacob's halting.  haltings, though I had natural defects, though I were not without my spots and blemishes, yet was I so favoured by Fortune, that I was nobly borne; and that they lighted upon a man ennobled in his blood, both by father and mother. La sangue se hereda, y el vicio se apega, Blood is by inheritance, but Vice is adventitious, yet cleaveth closer than the other, when it once takes hold of us. He that shall be, what he ought to be, shall be accordingly rewarded, but shall not purge away the faults of his Parents.  
First of all then, I shall give you to understand, That my father, and his Kindred, were a certain kind of upstart Gentlemen, that came out of the 
Guzman's father.  
a Levantisco, which is the word in the Original, is taken for an Upstart, a jew, or an Easterling, come- from the Levant And, Estar de Levant, is one, that hath no set dwelling. Covarruvias, vocab. Levant. Against Usurers, and Exchangers of Moneys.  Levant, who having no certain abiding, came at length to reside, and settle in Genoa; where they were engrafted into the Nobility, and had many large and goodly Privileges granted unto them. And although they were not Naturals of that place, yet we shall here put them under that stile, as if they had been borne there. His Traffic and income, whereby he maintained himself, was according to the common custom of that Country; the which, for our sin's sake, is grown now into ours; which infection of late, hath spread itself thorough the world, to wit, Usury, Money-bankes, and profitable Exchange of gold and silver. Even for this, was he persecuted and reviled, defaming him with that foul name of Usurer. Many times he himself heard that reproachful word as he passed along the streets, it could not escape his ear, yet he was of that good nature, and gentle condition, that he took no notice of it, but slightly past it over. For which, they had no reason so to do, since that Vse-money (the more the pity) hath been, and is still permitted throughout the world. I will not commend it, and (God forbid) that I should defend it to belawfull (which some do allow) to take money for money, upon pawns of gold or silver for some limited time, or to take (the day being broken) the 
b The Spanish word, is Rematado. Now Remato, or Trance. is the last bidding for a thing at a Port sale, which when we are come unto, transit res à venditore, ad emptorem.  Forfeiture thereof, nor other close tricks and conveyances: nor that which they call by the name of 
c Cambio seco, is a mystery among Merchants, to assign over Bills of Exchange from Antwerp to Bezonzon in Lorraine, where there is no Fair or trade of Merchandise: but Bills are thence remitted to Genoa, only to gain time, and day of payment. Guzman's fathers devotion.  Cambio seco, a dry kind of Exchange. Nor that money should run from Fair to Fair, where there was never any intercourse of men, or trading: for those do but bear about them the voice of jacob, and the hands of Esau; kind shows, and rough deeds. And at the shooting of Jonathan's flight, or some warning-piece or other that is given, the deceit is discovered. But such things as these, (though they laid them to his charge) I myself saw them not, and therefore cannot give you any inkling of them.  
But that which is absolutely understood to be Cambio, an Exchange or turning and winding of moneys, is a thing indifferent, which may (as it is used) be either good or ill. And for such (though perhaps unjustly) I do not wonder, that (being it ought to be esteemed ill) it is not reproved. But that which is evidently good, being without any shadow of evil, that men should murmur at this, and speak against it; this is that, which doth astonish me, and strikes me into a strange amazement. To say, when I see a religious person enter at midnight thorough a window, into a suspected place, with his sword in his hand, and his buckler at his girdle, that he is going to minister the Sacrament, were a mere madness: for neither God will have it so, nor doth his Church permit, that I should be such an errant Ass, as to think that to be good, which is evidently evil. When a man shall pray, frequent virtuous exercises, hear divine Service, confess his sins, and often communicate; for men to say, that such a one is an Hypocrite, I can by no means endure it: and as there is nothing more scandalous to a good Christian, so is there not any wickedness like unto it.  
My father had a fair large Mass-book with the full number of David's 150. Psalms, wherein he had been taught to pray, (I mean in the Spanish tongue) and a great pair of Beads, whereof every one of them was as big as an hazel nut. These my mother gave him, which came to his hands when she died. These he always carried about him, you should never see them out of his hand, every morning he heard his Mass, humbly kneeling with both his knees on the ground, his hands joining themselves together at his breast, lifting them up towards heaven, on the top whereof his Hat hung. Some malicious people (by way of reproach) did not stick to say, that he did pray in this manner, because he would not hear the Priest, and that he held his Hat so high, because he would not see him. But of this, let them judge, who find themselves free from passion, and let them tell me, whether it be not a perverse and rash censure, proceeding from a profane kind of people, that have no care of their souls, and without any conscience at all. But the very truth is, that the main cause, and first beginning of their murmuring against him, was; that a Partner of his in seville, being broken, and turned Bankrupt, and having carried away with him great sums of moneys that were his, he pursued after him, as well to remedy himself as well as he could of so great a loss, as also to order and settle some other necessary businesses, which did much concern him.  
The ship he went in was set upon and taken; and he, together with the 
Guzman's father taken prisoner.  rest that were in her, taken captives, and carried to Algiers: where, what out of fear, and what out of despair; fear, for that he knew not how or which way to recover his liberty; and despair, for that he never looked to get again his moneys; for quietness sake, as one that had not the spirit of contradiction, or that was wont to gainsay any thing, he renounced his Religion, and turned Turk. There he married a Moor, a woman of perfect beauty, and principal rank, with whom he had good store of wealth. For 
He turns Turk. He marries a Moor.  in matter of interest, (taking it in the general, in which track I still tread, without prejudice to a great number of noble persons, and grave and principal Gentlemen; for there are of all sorts in all places) I will only speak by the way, what I myself knew of some of my father's kindred, during the time, that I traded and conversed with them. They were very solicitous in 
Guzman's kindred, what condition they were of.  meddling with other men's houses, and too forgetful and careless of their own: desirous, that other men should deal plainly and truly with them, whilst from themselves, you should not get so much as one true word. Willing, that others should pay them all that they ought, but of what they ought, to pay nothing at all: to gain and spend freely, (light where it would light for them, they cared not who did wring for it) for the pawn was already forfeited, their day was passed; and (as the Proverb is) à Roma por todo, at Rome there is an absolution for all offences. It afterwards so fell out, that my father's Partner, to secure himself from after-claps, and to live out of danger, laboured to take order with his Creditors, and to compound for his debts, upon fair and reasonable conditions, requiring such rates and days of payment, as that he might both be able to live well himself, as also to pay his debts.  
When this came to my father's ear, that had certain and assured notice of 
Guzman's father flies from Algiers. And in what manner.  it, he had a great desire to come away with all the secrecy and diligence he could possibly devose. And the better to deceive the Moor his wife, he told her, that he purposed to employ himself in matters of Merchandise, which would turn much to their profit. He made money of most that he had, and putting it into Chekines, (a certain coin, that is made of fine Barbary gold) taking with him all the jewels he could finger, and so leaving her alone, and very poor, he came his way with all the speed he could. And not making any one acquainted therewith, neither friend nor foe, reducing himself to the Faith of jesus Christ, repenting himself of his fault, with tears in his eyes, being his own Promoter, he accused himself, craving pardon for his offence, and that some favourable penance might be inflicted upon him. Which being enjoined him, and fully performed by him, he afterwards went about to recover his debts. And this was the chief cause, why they would never afterwards trust him, nor have any charitable opinion of him, were his works never so good, never so pious. And if you ask other reason, you were as good hold your tongue, you shall get none other from them, but impertinencies, and answers nothing to the purpose, such as they have often made me; Once a knave, and ever a knave: Nam qui semel est, semper praesumitur 
Once a Knave, & ever a Knave.  esse malus: For he that hath once been naught, is presumed to be so still; and that he will never get out of the way of wickedness, that hath once made it his common walk. Not considering, that no man knows, how God toucheth a man's heart, and calls him home unto him, putting him again in the right path, and whether (agreeable to that authentic Law) he had reform his manners or no.  
Here you see, without leaning this or that way, or without any the least inclining to any side, my father's Mere-stones; the very limits, and bounds, that do define and determine him; On the one side, stand (as supporters) his cozening Kindred, and bankrupt Copartner; on the other side, his own cozening of the Moor. And if it be objected, that he himself broke twice or thrice, having other men's goods in his hands; if they likewise broke with him, it is no wonder, that he should not hold. For men are not made of steel, nor are they bound to hold like nails: for they, even though of iron, do sometimes fail and burst in sunder, and grow weak and loose. These are your Merchant's stratagems, their fine shifts of wit, which (upon occasion) 
The cunning tricks of certain Merchants in their Trading.  they practise when and where they please; especially in Spain, where they have found the trick of getting. Nor is it a thing so much to be wondered at; there lies their skill, let it thrive as it will: we leave that to themselves, and their Confessors, to whom, I doubt not, but they give a large account of their doings. Only God is the judge of these things; and let him that absolves them, look what he does: I see many, that make a common practice of it, but not a man of them, that hangs for it. If it were a delict, an evil thing, or a theft, it is a clear case that it should be punished, since for less than six Royals, we see an hundred poor souls whipped about the town, and sent to the Galleys.  
That I might not vent myself in my father's prejudice, I could be content to hold my peace, and to silence what I think: but if I will follow the Philosopher's counsel, I must then say, Amicus Plato, sed magis amicus Ueritas: Plato is my friend, but the Truth more. I love my father well, but I must preserve the truth above all things. Conforming myself therefore to that Philosophical saying, let the world hold me excused, if I canonize this Case for one of the greatest villainies and rogueries, that was ever put in use, and such as deserveth exemplary punishment, and that in no mean degree. But perhaps some one Merchant or other, that is his crafts-master in this kind of trade, will tell me to my face, Hold your hand, Sir, you are a little too forward, in what Consistory (I pray) of the Pope and his Cardinals, hath Bankrupture been determined, and condemned for a sin? Who will put an Idiot, a Galleyslave, a Rogue, to establish Laws, or to censure those Trades wherein he hath no skill? But I now see how I have erred, in speaking against that, which I cannot help, and whereof there is so little amendment to be expected. For I would willingly endure thy taunts, and bearè thy reproaches, so that there might either punishment or remedy be given to this honourable kind of thieving, though my own father should stretch for it, and give the Gallows its first handsel. Let it run on as it doth; for the reformation of such important things as these, and other of greater moment, grow daily worse and worse; their 
a Andar de capa cayda. To go with their Cloak fallen, is a phrase that is used of those, who go losing both their substance, and their credit.  Cloak is fall'n (as it is in the Proverb) from off their shoulders. But what doth this belong unto me? for me to speak against it, is to cry out upon the Wolf, where none will come to help me, to stop the Sun in its course, and to preach in the wilderness.  
But I return to that, which they laid most to his charge; which was, That he was apprehended and imprisoned, for that which thou thyself sayest, 
How a judge & a Scrivano may be bad.  or that hath been dictated unto thee by others. But for that he was rich and wealthy, and (as some say) for that he had an Alcalde to his father, and a 
a The Spanish word 〈◊〉 Elcrivano. i. Scriba publicus, ●…rvus publicus, qui acta in ludicio, vel extra judicium, notis vel literis excipit. Vt constat Lege, non vaum. 18. §. de adoptionibus. Besides that which is alleged by Don juan Vela in his Tract de poenis delictorum, cap. 24. de Notario falsum committente.  Notary to his Gossip, he by that means came off, and was freed. For there were sufficient proofs and evidences brought against him; and such suspicions to induce belief, as might have served the turn to have turned him over. But one pulls me by the sleeve, and tells me in mine ear, Do you hear, Sir? Suspicion is no proof, and naked signs, are not of themselves capable of chastisement. I did look for this conclusion from thee; assuring myself beforehand, that thou wouldst take them all to be old Wives tales, when they meet at the Bakehouse to set their bread into the Oven; that they are all lies, and false testimonies, maliciously urged against him. And seeing I have avowed, and made good one part unto thee, thou wilt not deny, but that I have reason to defend the other, and to give thee my reasons for it. I say then, that to have Scrivanos, or Notaries, (I may so term them) to be a man's Gossips, is a bare title, that only suits itself according to the Money, wherewith every one wageth Law. For in blearing the sight, and picking a man's purse before his face, some have the soul and conscience of your Gypsies, and will make of justice a matter of juggling, with a hie pass, and a repass, come off jack with a whim-wham; ordering things so, as they shall think good, and may make most for their profit: so that it shall neither be in the power of the Plaintiff or Defendant to impeach it, nor in the Advocate to dispute the right, nor in the judge to sentence it.  
And lest that I should chance to forget it, I pray, harken by the way to that, which in the Church of S. Gil, in Madrid, was delivered to the Lords of the supreme Council, by a learned Preacher, upon a certain Friday in Lent. 
A discourse of a worthy Preacher against Notaries.  By way of discourse, he ran thorough all the ministers of justice, till he came to the Scrivano, or Notary, or Register, (or what in that kind you please to call him) which he purposely forbore to speak of, as reserving that dish for the last service, and then with these words, he set it before them: Here my Cart sticks fast, and is so clogged with dirt and mire, and so surrounded and wedged in, as it were, on every side with filth and muck, that I know not in the world how to get it out, unless the Angel of God return once again to the fish-poole. I confess (my Lords) that for these thirty years and upwards, I have seen and heard the Confessions of many sinners; who having fall'n into one sin, have fall'n again many times into the same. And yet all these, (by God's help, and his goodness and mercy towards them) have reform both their lives and consciences, and become good livers, and have all put on amendment. The Wencher, that hath lain at rack and manger, and stood at continual Livery, time, and a filthy Quean hath tamed him. The Gamester, a Master of a Dicing-house, or Keeper of an Ordinary, makes him in the end to see his error; who like a Horseleech, goes from one to another, sucking by little and little their blood from them. To day thou winnest, to morrow thou lofest; the money runs round, and still it remaineth, but they that play, I am sure, remain without it. The famousest Thief, fear and shame reformeth. The rash Railer, the 
b The Spanish word perlesia, signifieth also Prelacy. As if the way to get preferment, were to rail upon Gouern●…ment.  Palsy, from which few escape. The proud man, his own misery doth dis-deceive him, being conscious to himself, that he is but dirt. The Liar, the ill language, and the affrents, which are daily cast in his teeth, put a bridle upon his tongue. The unadvised Blasphemer, the continual reprehensions of his friends and kinsfolks correct and amend him. All these, either early or late, at one time or another, reap some fruit, and cast off (like the Snake) their old skin, although perhaps (within) they wring hard for it.  
In all, and every one of these, have I found some marks and signs of their salvation: Only in the Scrivener, I miss in my account, and am quite out of my reckoning, nor do I find in him any amendment at all; but is just the same man to day, that he was yesterday; this year, as he was thirty years since; for he is still one and the selfsame man: Nor do I know to whom, or how he confesseth, nor who absolveth him: (I speak of him, who doth not faithfully exercise his Office) for they inform, and write down that, which they think fit, and for two ducats, or to pleasure a friend, or to do a shee-creature a courtesy (for your mantles, are great medlars, and your women, not the worst solicitors:) they take away this man's life, that man's honour, and a third man's wealth; setting the gate wide open to an infinite number of sins, in their insatiable covetousness, in their canine and dogge-like appetite, through the heat of that infernal fire that is in their soul: which makes them to swallow down without chewing, be it good or bad; right, or wrong, another man's goods. And because ever and anon, upon every slight occasion, they take that which is not their due; and for that the money that is put into the palms of their hands, their fist being well greased therewith, is in an instant converted into flesh and blood, and incorporated into one & the selfsame substance with themselves; they have no more power to cast it off from them, than they have to shake off the World, or the devil, who sit so close unto them, that they can hardly be removed. So that it seemeth unto me, that when any such is saved, (for it cannot be, that all should be such, as I have here taken upon me to treat of) at his entrance into glory, the Angels fulfilled with joy, will cry out one to another, Laetamini in Domino, A Scrivener come into Heaven, new fruit, new. For Scriveners are not pomi Paradisi, such fruit grows not there: And with this he ended his Sermon. But let it pass and go for currant, that some good may be wrought upon a Scrivener, and that there may be some hope his soul may be saved, by changing his former course of life; yet for all this, fall back, fall edge, go which way you will to work with him, he will be well enough able to answer for himself, by 
A defence of Scriveners, though a weak one.  laying an excuse upon his faults (for iron also may be guilded) and then will he tell you that these are the rates of old, and that they take no more but their wont fees, that victuals and other things grow still dearer and dearer, and the means to maintain them, worse and worse. That the King's rents and prices are variable; that they had not their Offices for nothing, but paid sound for them; and therefore must lick himself whole as well as he can, saving himself harmless out of other men's gettings: And that there is no reason but that he should be well paid for the employment of his person, and his pains taking. This hath been the course of all ages, and for aught I see, is like still so to continue: Howbeit, Aristotle tells us, That the greatest wrong, that 
Aristotle's saying.  can be offered to a Commonwealth, is the sale of Offices.  
And Cleomenes the Spartan, being demanded how a Kingdom might come to be happy, made answer, When a King should not respect his private profit. 
A saying of Cleomenes.  But for a judge that comes freely by his place, to whom, they have given the Title of gracious Lord, in hope that he will do the office of God, which 
judges are Gods.  is, to do justice, and to show Mercy, (and therefore are called Gods upon earth) that to such a one it should be imputed, that he sells justice; omitting to punish the bad, and to reward the good; and that he will salve and cover a fault in a lewd fellow, or save a notorious offender from the gallows; I absolutely deny it, and prove this my proposition by plain and evident Reasons. For who can think, that there should be in the world a judge so ill, so unorderly, so impudent and so shameless (for such a one must he be, that will do such things) though a mountain of gold should make his Mace, or rod of 
A bad judge, and his conditions.  justice to bend, and compel him to break the Law? Howbeit, there are some abroad in the world, who stick not to say, that this suing for Offices, and seats of justice, goes by certain indirect paths, and byways, unusual courses out of the common tract, & un-accustomed; or (to speak more properly) by false reports and forged Relations, whereof they make benefit, and grow thereby into great Estates. And after that they once grow warm in their places, & see that they are surely settled in them, they then make up their stock again, and set up for themselves, and begin to play their prizes, raking and scraping at whatsoever comes within their reach; like unto the Polypus, 
a A Fish that hath many feet wherewith to catch his prey. Derived from the Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Multus & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, pes.  or Cuttle Fish, that hath many claws (like so many Wires) to catch his prey. There is not a poor, or joint in all his body, but is either a mouth to swallow, or a paw to take hold, if you once come within his clutches. here he seizeth on Wheat, there on Barley; here Wine, there Oil, besides flitches of Bacon, clothes both woollen & linen, silks of all sorts, jewels, money; from the Hangings in the dining Chamber, to stoop so low as the spice-boxe in the Kitchen; from the Masters-bed, to the Mules Cratch; from the purest wheat in the granary, to the very straw and chaff that lies at the barns door, choosing rather to play at small game, then to sit out. From which terrible griping, and violent holdfast, nothing can un-hitch them but death's flesh-hooke. For, when the hand takes a bribe, and they once begin to be corrupted, there is no ho with them, they are marred for ever after by an evil use, and never come to be good. And so they receive with open hand all manner of Bribes, as if they were men in pay, and what they wrongfully take, were true wages, and lawful fees. So, that they observe not justice, they wink at thieves, because they offer unto them the first fruits and tithes of their thefts: they have gotten the favour of some Courtier, to bear them out in that, which they have bought for their money: whereupon they relying, cast away all fear of wresting and perverting justice.  
Thus is it, in all your Officers of justice, as well with your royal Merchant, as your retailer; your Alcalde, as your Alguazil; your judge, as your Pettifogger; with him that selleth in gross, as him that selleth by retail; your justicer is the Merchant; your Pettifogger, the Pedlar. And (for their better thriving in the world) every one hath his bonus Genius, or Angel of guard, either bought outright for his money, (or at least so settled upon him, that it can hardly be alienated from him,) for those impertinent necessities of the body; besides that, which God hath given them for those that import the Soul. So that they have two Genij, (as men for the more surety will have two strings to their Bow:) The Court Genius, which is the Protector of their bodily goods; and Gods good Angel, that is the Protector of their souls.  
So that out of all this, you see something may be gathered, and happily a great part of it too true; yet for all this, we must not hence presume to conclude of all: But he that shall fall through covetousness into the like baseness, which perhaps may be one of a thousand, and the same some base-born Slave, an ill-bred fellow, or of a vile and abject mind, thou needest not wish him greater harm, or worse misfortune, then hath already lighted upon him; for 
The punishment that an ciull judge receiveth.  he carries with him his own chastisement; He is pointed at (wherever he goes) with the finger; he is murmured at by men; he is abhorred of the Angels; and both in public, and in private, hath every man's mouth against him: yet must we not for their sakes condemn the rest, or think all to be made of the same lump. And if some particular person find himself aggrieved, and complain, that he hath received hard measure, wise men will consider (as a thing to be necessarily presupposed) that suits of Law, being in number so infinite; in nature, so differing; and in their ends so divers and difficile to be decided, it is not possible that one judgement should content both sides; or one judge (though never so indifferent) please both parties. There will (while the world stands) be some querrulous men, either with, or without reason, have they cause, or not cause. Therefore, thou must first weigh, and 
What he sho●…ld do, that 〈◊〉 a suit in Law.  consider well with thyself, that these things, (I mean your Law-suites) will require a great deal of care, a great deal of skill, and a great deal of cunning. And if thou be wanting to thyself in these thy diligences, and take not the right course, the blame will lie in thyself. Nor is it any marvel, Que pi●…rdas tu derecho, no sabiendo hazer tu hecho: That for want of good information, thou shouldest lose thy right, and miscarry in thy suit, so that the fault is not so much the judges, as thine own. But that the judge should deny to do justice, because many times he does not give sentence on his side, who persuades himself that he is in the right, it is because he fails peradventure in his proofs, or for that his Adversary made a bad cause good, and the other a good cause bad, by the evil carriage of the business. (For much advantage doth consist in the handling of a cause.) Or else through the negligence of the party; or for that he wants means and money to follow his suit; or for that his opposite is too powerful for him. And therefore it is not good to tax the judges, muchless those, that are seated in those higher Thrones, and superior tribunal seats, where there are many good & choice men, even the best that the Kingdom affordeth. And suppose, some one judge or other out of passion, would rashly and unadvisedly precipitate himself, not caring which end went forward (be it right, or be it wrong,) yet the rest will not do so, they bear a better mind, and will not stick to withstand him to his face.  
I remember that a Labuador in Granada, a good crafty Clown, did (for his own private profit) follow a suit very hard in open Court, against the Lord of the town where he dwelled. Thinking with himself, that he had to do with Pero Crespo, the Towns Alcalde, or Constable (if I may so style him) of the Parish, and that he could have drawn the Oydores, or judges (appointed to hear his cause) by the ears, and led them along as he listed; standing one day in the Plaça nueva, or the new-Market-place, gazing hard, & looking busily on the Porch, by which you enter into the Chancery, which is one of the famousest buildings (for its bigness) that is in all Spain; and whereunto (for not only the curiousness of the Arches and Vaults, but for the fair carriage of business) there is not any in these times known to be equal unto it: after he had well viewed it, he perceived that the King's Arms that were placed in the Frontispiece, had for its two Supporters, justice, and Fortitude. Another Country fellow of his acquaintance, seeing him stand thus gaping as if he had nothing to do, asked him, why he did not go in to solicit his business? He told him, I begin to think with myself, that these things are not for me, and therefore I could wish myself at home again. Why (quoth his friend?) Why, said he? because justice is here seated so high, that it is in vain 
A witty saying of a Country fellow.  for me to look to have her stoop unto me, and I am not able to reach up unto her, and therefore would I were well at home.  
It is no marvel then (as I said before) that a judge do not justice now and then to some men, though they have Law on their side; but it would seem somewhat strange, that a man should have a sentence go on his side, that hath not wit to defend his cause. But my father found sentence in his favour, because he had been beaten to those kinds of businesses, and knew the trace of them, and was well able to hold plea. Besides, when he had the torment given him, and was put (as we here term it) upon the rack, he cleared himself of those imputations that were laid upon him, and attainted those witnesses that were brought against him of public malice, proving that they had deposed against him upon idle and vain presumptions, and upon weak and feeble grounds.  
But here (me thinks) I hear a Murmurer muttering forth his malice, telling me, That my father had a very ill report: That he curled his hair, painted his face, and did diverse other things, which I pass over with silence, and willingly omit to speak of: That moneys were still stirring, and came tumbling in on every side, besides gifts and presents, which coming from two opposite parties, continually crossed one another. Whereunto I may add the solicitation of women, who are not the worst Advocates, or the least importunate Suitors. All which put together, leave such a thorn or sting in my finger, that I dare not touch upon them. O thou man of malediction, thou dost press me too too hard, thou dost weary, & tire me out; I purpose this bout only, to give thee the best satisfaction I can, and not to answer any more to thy replies; for it were but to proceed in infinitum, and never to make an end, to weight upon thy Sophistries, and frivolous questions. And therefore I do not tell thee, that thou shootest at random, speakest non sequiturs, and such like things, wherein thou canst not prevail as thou wouldst, nor make thy part good; for as much as the truth thereof is otherwise already determined. Yet, when suits go thus, they give occasion of much mislike and offence; but there is no remedy, and we must be contented with it, as things that can not sometimes be possibly avoided: But God deliver thee from such a judge, qui habet Legem in scrinio pectoris, that interpreteth the Law as he listeth himself, and as his own conceit shall lead him, having neither Text, nor Doctor on his side to make good that he doth; and from a Notary, that is thine enemy, or any other of those kind of creatures, that are bribed: for they will falsify orders for their profit, and register things otherwise, than they were reported in Court. But in case thou wilt be carried away with opinion, and the voice of the Vulgar, (which is evermore 
Vox populi non modo est infirma, sed ●…psa insi●…mitas, & morbus.  the weakest, and least true, according to the subject from whence it comes) tell me, not out of the people's talk, (whereunto little credit is to be given) but to speak like a wise man, (out of thine own discretion and judgement,) whether all that which thou hast said, be sufficient to prove, that my Father was (undoubtedly) faulty.  
Besides, if it be the received opinion of some Physicians, that the using of Complexions, and such like slibber-slabbers, is a kind of infirmity and sickness 
Against painting.  in itself, who can say, whether my father were sound or no? And as for your curling of pates, crisping of hairs, and other greater dishonesties, and unseemelier sights than these, I do not commend them; nor allow of those, who permit them in Spain.  
But that which I saw with mine own eyes, for that time that I knew him, and was conversant with him, I am able to tell thee what manner of man my Father was. He was of a fair complexion, ruddy, well coloured, clean and soft, was the grain of his skin, and his hair curled, which on 
Omnium colorum homo.  my conscience was natural unto him: He had a full eye, and that full of life, resembling in colour the watery Turquoys. He ware a foretop, and those his Locks, which endeavoured his Temples, to give them the greater grace, curled themselves into rings of hairs. And if God had given him these colours, as prope●… to him, was it fit (think you) that he should besoot his face with the same paintings? or is it likely, that he would make such slight reckoning of these fair pledges of God's goodness, & embrace such counterfeit stuff to the ill example of others? But if it be true, as thou sayest, that he made use of ointments, greasy ingredients, slabber-sawces, galls of beasts, and the like artifices; and that those teeth, and hands, which did so much commend him, that all this, I say, should be done by the virtue of certain Powders, Oxe-gals, Lees, Latherings, and other such sluttish and beastly confections, I shall then ingeniously acknowledge whatsoever thou shalt say of him, and shall be a capital enemy not only unto him, but to all those that shall practise the like. For besides, that they are effeminate actions, fitting only wanton wenches, and light huswives, they give occasion to men, to murmur against them, and breed a just suspicion of baseness in the vilest degree, when they shall see 
Painting had, both in a soul, & in a fair woman, but worst of all in a man.  them thus daubed over with clay, and wholly composed of those things that are only permitted unto women; who, because they have not sufficient beauty of themselves, borrow it from paintings, and varnishings, to the great cost, both of their health, and purse. And (which to see, is a thousand pities) that your foul, and worst favoured women, are not only those that do this, but even your fairest, and those that are most beholding to Nature: who thinking thereby to seem fairer, and to make Nature appear more lovely in Arts dressing, begin this work betimes in the morning in their bed, and finish it at noon, when the Cloth is laid. So that I say, (and not without reason) Que la muger, quanto mas mirare la cara, tanto mas destroyed la casa: That a woman, the more curious she is about her face, the more careless she is about her house; the repairing of the one, being the ruining of the other. If this then (even in women) be blame-worthy, how much more shall it be in men? O filthiness, above all other filthiness! O affront, above all other affronts! that God having given thee one face, thou shouldst abuse his image, and make thyself another. Thou canst not twit me in the teeth, that my love to my father hath blinded me, or that my natural affection to my Country hath bribed me, nor shalt thou ever find me out of reason, or in aught that I shall say, to swerve from the truth. But if there be any discharge or satisfaction in a thing that is evil, I will tell thee one curiosity, because it falls out patt for this place, and did succeed all, as it were about one and the selfsame time. 
Dulce est socios habuisse dolorum.  To thee it will serve for counsel; to me, for comfort, as a common ●…uill, that goes not without its fellows.  
In the year 1512. (a little before Ravenna was sacked) there were cruel wars in Italy. And in this very City, (I mean Ravenn.) there was borne a strange Monster, which did strike the beholders into great admiration and caused much wonder. He had from the girdle upward, all his whole body, face, and head, like unto a man, saving that he had one horn in his forehead: he wanted his arms, but in stead thereof, Nature had given him two wings like a Bat: he had figured in his breast, the Pythagorical (Y) and in his stomach down to his belly, a well-formed Cross, or Crucifix. He was an Hermaphrodite, both those two natural Sexes, being in a very proportionable manner well and truly form: he had no more but one thigh, and to it one leg with its foot like a Kites, and the talons answerable thereunto. In the knotty part, or locking joint of the knee, he had one only eye. These monstrosities and unnatural shapes possessed men's minds with extraordinary admiration; and those that were learned men, and great Scholars, considering with themselves, that such monsters in nature were usually prodigious, and did foretoken some strange effects, did beat their brains, and exercise the strength of their wit, in the speculation and search of the signification thereof, and what this strange Monster might portend. And amongst many other that were given, only this that followeth, was well received amongst them: That the horn did signify Pride, and Ambition; the wings, Inconstancy and Lightness: want of arms, want of good works: the foot, of that bird of rapine, Theft, Usury, and Avarice: the eye in the knee, affection to vanities and worldly things: the two Sexes, Sodomy, and beastly filthiness; in all which vices, all Italy did then abound. For the which, God did scourge them with that his whip of wars and dissensions. But the Cross and the Y were good and fortunate signs; for the Y in the breast did signify Virtue: and the Cross on the belly, that if men (suppressing their dishonest lusts of the flesh, should embrace virtue in their breasts, God would give them peace, sweeten his displeasure, and abate his wrath.  
You see here, (in a case prohibited) that when the whole current ran with a troubled water, my father followed along with the stream, and did as others did, and was not the sole and only offender. And therefore more worthy shalt thou be of blame, if thou shalt offend, having been brought up in a school of Christianity, and taught by example what to avoid. God lend us his helping hand, that we may not fall into other the like miseries: for all of us, even the best of us, we are but men.   

CHAPTER II.  
Guzman de Alfarache goes on, in recounting who were his Parents, and declareth withal who his Mother was; and for our better instruction, describes the evil conditions, and bad qualities of a lewd woman, of Bawds; of a sensual and lascivious man, and that the end of dishonest Love, is the wasting of a man's honour, of his wealth, and of himself.  
BUT that I may return again to my Story, I told you before, (if my memory do not fail me) that (having performed his penance) my father came to seville for to recover his debt; whereupon Law was waged, many offers made either to give or take; some demands, and some answers: and if he had not thoroughly purged himself for his health, and found an evasion; that is, if he had not well cleared himself of being a Renegado, it would have broken out upon him into the scurf of the head, or the scratches in the pasterns; all the fat had lain in the fire, and he had been quite blown up. But he had wrought such a cure upon himself, and handled the business so handsomely, that they could not catch hold of him for having the Leprosy, or the dry scab. All things were so well made up, that they could not find a hole in his coat, or make any mark or white, to shoot at him; so well was he provided for all comers. Means were used on both sides, composition offered, but not accepted; the one being unwilling to 
Guzman's father compounds with his Creditors; grows rich, and takes his pleasure.  pay all, the other as loath to lose all. Of this spilt water, he gathered up as much as he could, making the best of a bad bargain. And with that which came to his share (be it what it will) it so well served his turn, that the cards once more were dealt round again, and he come into very good play. His incomes were such, and his luck so great, that in a very short time, he gained not only wherewithal to dine, but also to sup. He built him a pretty handsome house, he sought to plant and settle himself in those parts, he bought him land of inheritance; he had a Garden in San juan de Alfarache; a neat one it was, and of much recreation and pleasure, distant from seville little more than half a League; whither many days, especially in the Summer time, he went for his pastime, and made many banquets. It happened, that the Merchants made a Burse or Pawn for their contractations at the stairs of the great Church, (like that of Saint Felipe at Madrid) with a place to walk in, which went round about it, having a Parapet or Wall brest-high on the outside of it, to separate it from the open street, girt in with great Marble pillars, and strong chains of iron. My father walking there with other Merchants, there chanced a Christening to pass by. And (as the talk there went) this child was said to be the secret son, or (to speak plain English) bastard to a certain person, that shall be nameless. My father followed in the tail of the troop, and entered in after them even to the very Font, for to see and view my mother▪ who with a certain old Knight of the military habit, (who 
Guzmans●…other ●…other and 〈◊〉 w●…man: Her condition.  for to main the honour of his Order, lived by the Rents of the Church) were Partners in this Ceremony: it was a metall'd thing, a lusty lively wench, yet grave enough withal; her carriage was very graceful, and full of courtesy, herself young; beautiful, discreet, modest, and of a well composed and settled behaviour. Her handsome feature needs no other commender, than itself. He stood steadily looking upon her, all the while that the Exercise of that Sacrament gave him leave so to do, being astonished to behold so rare a beauty, if not besotted with it. For, to that her natural beauty of face, and feature of body, (without any tricking or painting at all) all was so curious and fitly placed thorough that whole frame of nature, that one part helping another, and all put together into one piece, did make such a delicate contexture, that no pencil can reach to express its perfection; nor imagination conceive, how to make it better. The parts, and fashion of my father, I have already largely laid open unto you: this goodly creature, (for they seem gods and not men, who are not touched with natural affections) began to perceive his earnest eyeing of her, and did not a little rejoice in it, howsoever she did dissemble it. For there is not any woman, (though never so 
Women love to be eyed, and to be looked upon.  proud, be she of high or low degree) but does take comfort, and chucke for joy, to be beheld and looked upon with an hungry eye, be the man never so base, never so mean. Their eyes being their interpreters, though their tongues were silent, spoke plain language each to other: manifesting by them their hearts; for souls on such occasions do not admit of masks, neither will willing minds yield to the veil and muffler. For that time, there passed no more betwixt them, nor ought else done, save only that he came to know, that she was that Knights Pawn; his jewel, his delight, a morsel that he kept for his own mouth, over whom he was wondrous wary, and so tenderly affected, that he could scarce endure to have her out of his sight. In fine, this Gentlewoman went directly home to her house, and my father was at his wit's end, not knowing in the world how to put her out of his mind. He used, that he might come to the sight of her again, many extraordinary diligences: but, unless when she went forth to Mass upon some solemn feast-days, he could not otherwise see her for a long time together.  
The often falling drop, hollows the hardest stone that is; and steadfast perseverance still gets the victory: for continuance crowneth our actions, and disposeth them to their intended ends. He plodded so long on the matter, that he found out a trick to serve his turn, using the means of a good old beldame, a reverend Matron forsooth, an honest Bawd, one of my charitable Aunts: for such ministers as these doth the Devil set a-work, and employ in his service; with which secret mines, he overturns the strongest towers of the chastest women: for that they may better themselves in their raiment, seeking to gain a widow's habit, a Huke, or a Mantle, and that their little Caskets may be stored with Boxes of Marmalet; there is no treachery which 
A Bawd, and her condition.  they will not attempt; no filthiness, which they will not solicit; no blood, which they will not draw forth; no chastity, which they will not spot; no cleanness, which they will not fully; no wickedness which they will not bring to pass. This good creature then, being courted by him with words, and rewarded by him with deeds, went and came to and fro with papers: And because the Principles, as they are the first, so the hardest to learn; and because the greatest difficulty consists in the beginning; and for that, Loaves go aside, if they be not well set into the Oven, she moulded the business well, using the best sleights she had. And because my father had heard of old, That 
Money overcome all difficulties, especially with women.  money leveleth the greatest difficulties, and makes all things plain and easy, he did ever manifest his faith by his works, because they should not condemn it to be dead and fruitless. He was never negligent, nor yet no niggard. He began (as I told you) by this woman's hand, to sow the seeds of his love, and prodigally to spend upon my mother; and they both, very willingly, and very cheerfully, are ready to receive all. And because unto goodness, gratitude is so due a debt; and that he who receiveth, is bound to a requital, and every courtesy deserves its acknowledgement This good mother of mischief did play her part so well, grew such a good Solicitor, and followed the business so close, that her diligence meeting in a happy coniuncture, with the forwardness of my Mother's will, she still went adding more fuel to the fire; and of a little light stubble, raised in a short time a terrible flame. As we see many times, jesting turned into earnest; and things full often to end in sober sadness, which at the first, were but begun in jest.  
My Mother (as ye have already heard) was a discreet woman; fain she would, but durst not; she had a good mind to the business, but yet she was afraid: she was sometimes on, sometimes off; her own heart was the Oracle of her desires; with that she consulted often, what were best to do. And thus disputing pro and con with herself, ya lo tenia de la has, ya delenues. Sometimes (as we see in the handling of Stuffs, or of Cloth) she was on the right, sometimes on the wrong: one while she would put on a full resolution to do thus and thus; by and by again, she would turn to a new Conjugation, and vary the Mood she was in before. In conclusion, whom will not silver win? whom will not gold corrupt? This Knight was an elderly man, much subject to spitting, spalling, and coughing, he was troubled with the Stone, with sharpness of his Urine, and other the like infirmites': she had seen him full oft by her sweet side in the naked bed; where he did not appear the man my father was, he had not that vigour, nor liveliness, nor that handsomeness of shape and proportion. And besides, observe it while you live, and you shall evermore find it to be true, That long acquaintance, and much conversation, (where Gods fear is not) breeds wearisomeness, and loathsomeness at the last. Novelties please all, especially women, who are lovers of flim-flam 
Novelties please women.  tales, and for the receiving and returning of news; like unto Materia prima, which never ceaseth to desire and seek after new Forms. She was resolved to have forsaken the old Knight, to shift her of her old clothes, to change her smock, and was fully bend to fly out, and to break loose, whatsoever came of it: but her great wisdom, and long experience, which was hereditary unto her, and sucked from her mother's teat, opened the way, and presented 
A woman, wise in wickedness, what one she is.  unto her an ingenious resolution. And questionless, the fear of losing her pension, kept her aloof off, the thought whereof much perplexed her for the present, who otherwise was of herself well egged forward, and had a good mind to the game. For what lesson my Father read but once unto her, the Devil repeated the same ten times over; so that it was no such great matter now to win Troy; there was likelihood enough to take it in less than ten years.  
My good Mother casts up her account, and made this reckoning with herself: In this particular, my person loseth nothing, I sell no household stuff, I waste none of my goods; and though in this kind, I afford much kindness to others, I am therein like unto the Candle, or the Sun in its brightness, though I lend light unto others, I have nothing the less myself: I shall not want awhit in my estate, but be rather still at the full. Of whom I have received so many courtesies, so many gifts, it is fit, I should in some sort show myself thankful, and not be sparing to him, that hath been so bountiful to me. Shall I be covetous, when he is so liberal? God forbid. I am now resolved what to do: I will sow my bag at both ends, my jaws shall grind on both sides, my chaps shall walk every way; and the better to secure my ship, I will have two anchors to one bottom; that if I should chance to lose the one, I might still have another remaining to serve my turn. And if the mansion-house should hap to fall, yet if the Dove-house hold up, if that stand fast, we shall lack no Pigeons, as long as there is a Lover-hole for the poor fools to get in at.  
Having taken these things into her consideration, she treated with this her bawdy Ambassadoress, how, and when it might be; the manner, how; and the time when. But finding (after long consultation) that it was impossible to effect her desires in her own house, and that there was no good to be done at home, for to enjoy each other freely, & to take that fullness of content, which must satisfy the hungry maws of greedy Lovers, amongst many other shifts and tricks, and very good and witty devices, and strange plots, which they had laid their heads about, for the better success in the business, they made choice of this which followeth.  
The Spring had so far advanced itself, that May was in its ending, and the Summer was now making his entrance. And the Village of Gelues, and that of 
* Alfarache, a place of recreation near unto seville: And it's rare pleasures.  San juan de Alfarache, are now the sweetest and the pleasantest of all that bordering Territory, none thereabouts was like unto them; besides, the fertilen●…sse and goodness of the soil (which is all one with that of seville, as next neighbour unto it) which that River of 
a Guadalquibir is a famous River, which thwarteth all Andaluzia: it empties itself into the Sea, near to San Lucar de Barrameda. It is a great River, whose head rises in the Sierra de Sigura, or Alcaçar, anciently called Tabigensis: from whese springhead, to the Sea, it runs more than 60. Leagues; it's ancient name was Betis: from whence that Province is called Betica, of Betus the 6. 〈◊〉. of Spain. Or from the Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which signifies Deep. Some say it is a Ch●…ldee word, and signifies a House. For that it is the receptacle whither all other Rivers enter in, as into a house. Some call it Thuria, of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which signifies, impetuous, proud, etc. Vide Covarrwias, and Esteban de Garrib. l. 5. c. 4. fol. 128.  Guadalquibir, makes the more famous. whose watery gullets purling along the banks, enrich and adorn all those gardens and fields, that confine thereupon: so that with reason (if there may be a known Paradise upon earth) sure the name thereof properly appertains to this particular seat: So fairly is it set forth with shadow-casting trees, so beautified with curious bowers, so richly enameled with sundry sorts of flowers, so abounding with savoury fruits, so accompanied with siluer-running streams, with clear springs, glasse-labour-saving fountains, fresh airs, and delightsome shades, whereinto the beams of the Sun are at that time denied their entrance, and have not permission so much as once to peep in. At one of these retiring rooms of recreation, my mother agreed with her marriage-maker; her Sine qua, non; and some of the people of her house, to come one day thither to make merry. And albeit the place, whither they were to go, was not that which my father was owner of, but was somewhat beyond it, nearer unto Gelues; yet of force they must, to go thither, pass close by our door.  
Upon this care taken, and former agreement concluded between them, just about the time that she was to come near unto our garden gate, my Mother began presently to complain of a sudden and grievous pain in her stomach, imputing the cause thereof to the coldness of the morning, and the freshness of the weather, and did so cunningly dissemble the pangs and gripings she endured, that they were feign to take her down from her 
b Xamuga. A woman's saddle with a Chair.  Xamuga, which for her more ease in her journey, was borne by a pretty little, but sure-footed 
c A Sardinian Ass, of all Asses, is the least. A notable subtlety of Guzman's Mother, for the enjoying of his Father, before she came to be his Wife.  Sardinian Ass. She feigned such extremities of torture, made such pitiful faces, and such woeful gestures (holding her hand as hard as she could for her life upon her belly, crushing and wring it with all the might and main she could:) then would she let them lose again, then clasp them together, and wring each finger through anguish of her pain: other-while she would hang the head, as if she were fainting and ready to swoon; and that fit past, fetching a deep sigh or two, she fell to unlacing and unbracing herself, that all that were about her (save those that were privy to the plot) did verily believe that she was wonderfully and mightily tormented, that she made them to melt into tears, and to have a compassionate feeling of this her affliction. diverse passengers chanced in the interim to come by, and every one proposed his remedy; so many men, so many medicines; but because they knew not for the present where to have the things that should be applied, nor where to have a fit place for to minister unto her, their medicines were impertinent, and to no purpose in the world. To go back unto the City, it was impossible; to go further forward, dangerous; and to abide thus in the highway, not commodious. Her fits increased, all stood amazed, as not knowing what to do, nor what course to take. At last, one amongst the rest, that was there (who was laid there for the purpose) breaks me in amongst them, and as he passes the press, cries, Room for the passion of God, make way there, stand farther off, lest you stifle her for want of air. Come, let us take her, and remove her out of the high way; it were cruelty, not to seek to cure her, and a thousand pities, that so sweet a creature should be cast away, for want of care and good looking to. Come, let us take her in our arms, and put her into this garden house here hard by, in this case we must be content to take that which comes next to hand.  
All approved what he said, his motion was applauded, and so generally well liked, that it was presently concluded amongst them, That until that fit were overpassed, they should crave leave of those that kept the house, to give her entrance, not doubting but she would be much the better, if they could be but so happy as once to get her within the doors. They knocked hard and thick, (as men use to do when they are in haste;) the good woman that kept the house, made show as if she thought her Master had been there: and as she came waddling along, bawled to herself: O good God, is it you, Master? O sweet jesus! I pray be not angry, that I came no sooner, I was very busy, I could not do withal, I came as soon as I could. These and the like excuses, her unprofitable chaps mumbled to herself.  
The old Hag knew well enough what she had to do, she might go in the rank of those rude Country wenches, that make curtsy, and cry, No chero, no sabo; No forsooth not I, I am a poor silly old Woman, seeming as if she did not know how to say B. to a battledoor. Yet was she a dissembling Hilding, a crafty old Carrion, one that had learned her lesson beforehand, and received her instructions from my father, so that she was well prepared for the business. Besides, she was no Dullard, and for such kind of employments she was no Baby, but understood very well in such services as these what was fit to be done.  
And herein (amongst other things) the rich have this advantage of the 
The differen●…e betwixt the poor end the rich Master.  poor, That evil servants will not so easily come to the beck and bend of a poor Master, as well-disposed servants will be overawed by a rich Master, and won to his lewd commands. The poor man, (though he be never so honest) yet must he yield sometimes to the violent disposition of his wilful and head strong servants; whereas honest Country-Swaines, over-commanded by their rich Landlords, become Ministers to their lustfulness. So that the poor (though never so good) having ill servants, are servants to their servants. And the rich (though never so bad) by being served with good servants, are the only men that are well served.  
My good old Woman had by this time opened the gate, and either not well remembering, or making show as if she had not known them, full of dissimulation, she fell thus upon them: What a stir, what a knocking is here? The Devil take you all for me; beshrew me, if I did not think it had been our Master. The very fear whereof, lest I might have stayed too long before I let him in, hath not left me one drop of blood in all my body. It's very well, what's the matter now, I pray? What would you with me? What is your Worship's pleasure? Have you any thing to say to me? If you have, let me know your mind, that I may make an end and go about my business; for I have something else to do then to stand thus idly here.  
Then the old Knight answered, and said; Good woman, I pray afford us some place in your house, where this Gentlewoman may rest herself a while: for a grievous pain in her stomach, hath befallen her here upon the way: she, that kept the house, seeming to resent her pain, and to be much grieved for it, in her rude rustic manner, sorrowfully replied:  
Now a mischief on all such ill luck! O what a grief it is to see, that any pain should prove so unhappy, as to be thus ill employed upon so sweet a face, such a dainty bed of red and white Roses! Come in a God's name, come in, I pray, for all the house is at your service. My Mother, all this while, said not so much as one word, only she complained of her grief.  
The good old Wench of the house, using her with all the kindness her Country-fashion could afford, gave them the liberty of the whole house, bringing them into a lower room, where, in a well-furnished bed, there were certain Colchones, or Mattresses; these she presently unfolded, and having 
A Colchone, is a kind of Mattress, quilted with Wool, and basted with Thread, that the Wool may not slide and grow into Knots.  spread them forth, and made all things fit and handsome, she presently opened a Chest, whence she took out a very fine pair of sheets, that were neat and sweet, a fair Quilt, and a couple of Pillows; wherewith she dressed up a bed, and made it ready for her to take her rest in. Well might the bed have been made, the room kept clean, all places sweetened with the burning of perfumes, breathing forth Pomanders, and other the like odoriferous scents, and a breakfast provided, and many other dainties and delicacies put in a readiness for to entertain them withal. All these things, I say, might well have been made ready beforehand; but it was thought fit, that some of them should not be prepared; as also that the woman that kept the house, should not come at the first knocking, as likewise that the gate should be shut against them, and not be opened until they called, that it might not seem to be a set match, and lest it might chance to breed some suspicion, and so the stratagem 
a The Spanish word Eneamisada, signifies a ●…ratagem; borrowed from the wearing of shirts upon their Armour, thereby to surprise the enemy on the sudden, and to be distinguished from their enemies. It is also a Mask, or Mummery.  might be discovered, and the maskers made known; for this day's plot was merely no other thing. My Mother, in this her pitiful pain, put off her clothes, got her to bed, and called ever and anon for warm clothes; which being brought unto her, making as if she had laid them to her belly, she thrust them lower beneath her knees, and somewhat apart from her, because the heat of them did somewhat offend her, fearing lest they might cause some remotion or alteration in her body, whereby qualms might arise and weaken her stomach: With the help of these warm Napkins, she found herself much eased, and feigned she had a desire to sleep, hoping she should be the better after she had taken some rest.  
The poor old Knight, whose chiefest joy consisted in giving her content, having placed all his happiness in her welfare, was (honest Cuckold as he was) wonderfully glad of this, and left her all alone in her naked bed. And having made fast the door after him, that none could get in to trouble her, he went forth to recreate himself in those Gardens belonging to the house, charging his people to make no noise, and that none should come near the door, enjoining stillness and silence, and that none of them should dare to open it, till they had farther order from him, or that he came himself: And for that honest woman of the house, he willed her that she should watch by her, till she awaked, and that then she should come and call him. My Father in the mean while was not asleep, but stood with attention harkening to what was said, and lay peeping out through the Keyhole (like one that lies in Ambuscado) of a certain back door, belonging to a little close closet, whither he had retired himself, till he could spy his time of advantage for to sally forth, and surprise that desired fort, which he had long since so cunningly undermined.  
Now, when all was hushed and quiet, and that her own Nurse that came with her, and that other old Bawd of the house, stood like two Sentinels upon their Watch, ready upon all occasions, to give quick advice, by a certain secret sign, which might serve in stead of a watchword, when the old Knight should make head that way, than did my father issue out at that postern, or little backdoor of his, that he might see, and confer with his Mistress. And at that very instant did her feigned pangs cease, and those truer ones of love began to manifest themselves, giving other kind of twinges, and those kinder for the place affected. In this swelling kind of sport they continued two long hours, two years being not sufficient to express those passages that were betwixt these two new Lovers in this their merry fit.  
Now the day began to grow hot, and was entering more and more into his heats, which forced the Knight to make his retreat towards the house. Which he did the more willingly, out of the desire which he had to know how his sick Saint did, whether she were any thing better, and whether they should stay there, or go forward, or what they were best to do, these were the lines that led him along to visit her. Upon his marching thitherward, the Sentinels shot off a warning piece: and my father with great sorrow of heart forsook the Fort, where he had set up his Standard, and retired back to his Court of guard, and shut himself up close, where he was before.  
Upon the entering in of her old Gallant, she made show as if she had been fast asleep, and was awakened with the noise that he had made. And with a bended brow, and angry look, casting her eye a-skew upon him with a coyness of language, she turned aside from him, accenting her words in a pretty kind of mournful fashion, pitying as it were and bemoaning herself; Ay me; God help me. Why (alas) have they opened the door so quickly? Was there no care, no love to be shown unto me, in letting me sleep a little longer? I thought you, of all others, would not have put me out of so sweet a slumber. But 'tis no matter, I shall one day; and with that she sighed, and stopped, as if she had something else to say, studying more to amuse him, then to declare herself.  
This good old Knight of ours, this patient piece of flesh, gently made answer: By those eyes of thine, than which I adore nothing more, I did not think to wake thee, it grieves me (pretty soul) that I have done thee that wrong; yet hast thou slept full two hours and more. Two hours? (replied my Mother:) no, nor yet half an hour: me thinks it is but even now that I began to shut mine eyes, and in all my life, I never had so quiet and contented a nap, for that little while that it lasted; (nor did she lie in all that she said, for she gulled him with a matter of truth:) and looking with somewhat a more cheerful countenance upon him, she much commended the remedy which they had given her; telling them, that they had given her her life.  
The old Knight was glad to see so much comfort come from her. And by consent of both parties, they agreed to celebrate their feast there, and to pass away as merrily as they could the remainder of that day, for that Garden was no less pleasant, then that whither they intended to have gone. And because their people were not far off, that had the charge of their provision (for the other house was hard by) they sent to them to bring back their dinner thither, and such other things, as they had brought along with them.  
Whilst this business was adoing, my Father found fit opportunity to get out secretly at the other gate, and to return back to seville: where, every hour, was a thousand years; a moment, an Age, and the time of his absence from his new Love, a present Hell.  
Now, when the Sun was in his declining, which was about five in the Evening, mounting upon his Jennet, as if it had been but his ordinary walk, he came to visit this his house. Wherein he found these gallants, he bid them welcome, and told them he was very glad to see them there, only he was sorry for the mishap, which caused their stay. For he no sooner came in, but they told him all that had past. His carriage was courteous; his voice loud and shrill, but not very clear: He made them many discreet, and fair offers, (for he had learned a little Courtship) and they on the other side, remained no whit in his debt for kind words: So that in the end, there was a great League of friendship professed and confirmed between them in public; but a stricter tye in secret, betwixt my Father and his Mistress, for the good pawns and pledges of Love, that had lately passed between them.  
But there is a difference between Love, Friendship, and goodwill 
The difference that is betwixt Love, Friendship, and goodwill.  goodwill, is that, which I may bear to one that I never saw in all my life, nor had any other knowledge of him, then that I have heard of his virtues, or of his noble disposition, or some other worthy parts in him, which makes me to wish him well, and draws my affection by a violent kind of motion as it were, to follow after him.  
Friendship, we call that, which is commonly concluded betwixt man and man, or one friend with another, upon some long Treaty or Communication, Similiancie in condition, or some other pledges of love, and real courtesies, that have passed between them: so that goodwill, is said to be between those that are absent; and Friendship, between those that are present. But Love runs by another kind of course; it steers by another Compass. That must of force be reciprocal, a commutation of hearts, a copy or counterpane of interchangeable kindness, a translation of two souls, where each strives with other with all their might and main, to assist there more, where it loves then where it lives. And this takes its perfection from its object; the perfecter the object, the perfecter the Love: but the truest Love of all is divine Love.. And therefore we are to love God above all things, with all our 
True Love, what it is.  heart, with all our strength, and with all our soul, seeing that he so much loveth us. Next unto that, is your Amor coniugalis, that Love which is between a man and his wife, and then that which is betwixt neighbour and neighbour, or one friend towards another. For lewd Love, and that which 
What lewd Love is.  is dishonest, (whose ground grows not from Virtue) is not worthy of this name of Love, as being of a bastard-brood.  
But hap what may hap, come what will come, fall back, or fall edge; wheresoever this lewd love reigneth, there are all your Witchcrafts, as no where in the world more; there your enchantments, there your Sorceries. This lewd love is that, which (like another Circe's) altars the conditions of men, adventureth thorough all difficulties, and makes them easy; it is that alone which tameth the strongest and fiercest Lions. For to say, that there are Philtra, amorous potions, poisons of love, and the like baits and tricks to force affection, it is all false: for this alone, is sufficient of itself to turn a man's brains, to pervert his judgement, to take away his life, to confound his memory, to draw on diseases, and to occasion sundry shrewd fits either of melancholy, or of madness. Love aught to be free, and to have the liberty 
Love aught to be free.  and power to consign, & deliver over all the faculties of the soul to the thing beloved. For the Alcayde, or Governor of a Castle, cannot be said to give up the Castle, when as by force it is taken from him; so he, that shall make love by indirect and evil means, it cannot be truly said that he loveth, but that he is forced (contrary to his better will) and violently carried away with that eager passion of lust and sensuality, which like a headstrong beast bears a man on headlong to his destruction.  
The conversation went forward, Cards are called for, and to play they go. Their game was Primera at three hands; my mother, she got the money, for my father was willing to lose to her: and it beginning now to wax night, they gave off play, and went out into the garden to take the air. In the mean while, the Cloth was laid, and their supper brought in, and set on the board: they sit down, they eat, and have supped. And having given order against after supper, that a Barge should be made ready for them, and tricked up with fresh Flags, and green Boughs: when they came to the water side, they took Boat, and were no sooner launched forth into the channel, but they might hear from other Vessels, which went to and fro upon the river, sundry Consorts of all sorts of Music, which made a most melodious sound; being an usual and ordinary thing with them, in such a place, and such a time as that was, being in that season of the year that was fittest for it. In this manner they were brought along, till at last they landed; and being now come into the city, they took their leaves: every one betaking himself to his own home, and his own bed, save only my father's contemplative pate, whose roving head was so full of fancies, that it could take no rest. My mother too, (like another Melisendra) full of musing and thoughtful love, slept with her bedfellow, her old Consort; her body being prisoner in Sansuenna, and her soul a slave in Paris; her corpse in one place, and her mind in another.  
From that day forwards, such a strong knot of friendship was there knit 
Guzman's fathers crafty condition.  between them, and continued with so much discretion and good cunning, (considering their over-venturousnesse, and the danger they might run into) as could possibly be presumed from the acquaint wit, and close conveyance of an Easterling, died into a Genovese, and dipped in the Vat of Usury, who knew well enough, how to put out his money to the best profit; who could clear you any account, could liquidate and divide you to an hair, how much loss there was in measure, from the wastings that arose from the winnowing, and cleansing of corn; how many grains lost in the refining of such a proportion or quantity of Metal; nay, she could tell you to a crumb, how much loss there was in an hundred dozen, between the bread that was broken with the hand, and that which was cut with the knife. As likewise from a woman 
The disposi●…on of Guzman's mother.  of that good talon, and those gifts and conditions, which I have heretofore acquainted you withal, it is enough (if I say no more) that she was an Andaluz, borne in the town of seville, and bred up in that good school, where she proved so good a proficient, that she ran thorough the whole course of her Art, and did all her Exercise for her Degree of a Whore; which she had laudably taken, by making her appointments between the two Quires, and the Naves, or Isles of the old Church. Now my mother had her fits and flings before this time; this was not her first flying out, insomuch, that not having any thing of her own in her own hands, that was worth the keeping, that very day that she compounded with this old Knight for her company, and had driven her bargain with him, she swore unto me, that she put over in trust above 3000. Ducats, only in jewels of gold and Plate, besides the movables of her house, and her change of apparel for the setting forth of her person.  
The time (we see) wears away, and we must wear with it: that runs from us, and we must follow after it. Every day that opens, discovers new things; and with the rising of the morning, arise new alterations. And let us labour, and do all that we can, we may not be excused, nor can the flower of our youth escape in its due time the cutting Sith of Death. For there is not the shortest moment that passes, that doth not shorten somewhat of our life. And the older still we grow, the nearer we are to our grave. The good old Knight (as formerly you have heard) was an ancient man, and of a feeble 
An old man, ●…nfit for a young woman.  body: my mother, young, fair, and full of wit, and knew so well how to provoke his appetite upon all occasions, that his disorder opened the door to his death; for the old Lad, by overdoing himself, hastened his own end. First, his stomach began to fail him, than was he taken with a pain in his head, after that followed a burning Fever, which after some few fits began to leave him; but though that ceased, he had never awhit the more mind to his meat, he could eat nothing: so by little and little he consumed away, and after some few pulls, he died. My mother not being able to restore him to life, though she would ever swear unto him, that she was his life, and he hers: But all that protestation proved to be but a lie; for he was buried, yet she still lived.  
The old Knight left many kinsmen behind him in the house, when he died, but none of them of the same suit with myself, though they coloured for it; only my mother and I sorted well together: as for the rest, they were p●…n de diezmo, cada uno de la suya: like the bread, that the people offer up to the Priest; every one with a different device, or contrary mark, that his loaf may be known from others. That good old Gentleman, (God be with him, 
The actions of Guzman's mother.  and have mercy on his soul) had but little comfort in this life; and at the time of his death, they on the one side, my mother on the other, while the breath was yet in his body, pulled the linen from under him, leaving him a soul in his body, but not a sheet in his bed: so that the sacking of Antwerp (which for the cruelty thereof is grown into a Proverb) compared with this, was not half so rigorous, nor half so inhuman as this: and all (forsooth) for fear of a Sequestration to have the goods deposited. But my mother, as she churned the milk, so she was her own carver; she was the Tailor to cut out her own coat, and the worker of her own fortune. She found a time not long after to put her hands there, where her heart was long before, and fell to fingering of his money. For she had the chiefest of all his goods in her own keeping under lock and key, and was Mistress of all that was worth the having. But seeing herself in danger, and fearing to be put to her jumps, she thought it better to steal, then to beg; and like a thief to make a start out of a bush, than hereafter to ask an alms for God's sake. They were so nimble on all hands, that there was scarce enough left wherewithal to bury him.  
Some few days were scarce overpassed, but many diligences were used, for to make these his goods appear. They set up Excommunications at the Churches, and upon men's doors, to try if that would do any good, and make the purloiners to bring in the goods: but all to small purpose; for he that steals, seldom returns to make restitution. But my mother made her excuse, saying; That the Knight (God be with him) would still tell her, when he came to visit his moneys, and ran over his Coffers and his Cabinets, or had brought any thing into the house; This is thine, (sweet heart) it is all for thee. So the Lawyers were of opinion, that with this she might very well satisfy her conscience. Besides, they affirmed, that it was a due debt, and properly belonged unto her; for though she gained it ill, yet it was not received ill. And howbeit the Act were not lawful, yet the Compact was justifiable. It was not lawful for her to play the whore, yet might she by Law have whatsoever was promised her for the use of her body.  
In this man's death, I found that to be verified, which I had often heard before; That rich men dye of hunger, poor men of surfeits, and those which 
Rich men dye of hunger.  have no Heirs, and enjoy the goods of the Church, of cold: So that this man may serve herein for an Example. For whilst he was yet living, they left him not so much as a shirt, save only that which he wore on his back, which of courtesy they were content he should carry out of the world with him. Rich men, for fear they should be sick with eating too much, to avoid hurt, hurt themselves; since by eating by ounces, and drinking by thimble-fuls, they live by drams; dying rather out of hunger, than their disease. Poor men, 
Poor men dye with over-eating themselves.  in that they are poor, every man takes pity of them; one sends, another brings to them, & all of all sorts, and from all parts repair unto them, to give them relief, especially when they are in that extremity. And when they find themselves lean and hunger-starved, they make no good choice of their feeding, for want of some discreet body that should administer unto them, and order them in their diet: whereupon they eat so much, and glut themselves so full, that they cannot digest their meat for want of natural heat, and so choking themselves with over-gorging their panels, they merely die surfeited.  
The like happeneth likewise in your Hospitals, where some devout fools, tender-hearted women, who go thither to visit them out of mere devotion, stuff their pockets and their sleeves full of banquetting-stuffe to carry along with them, sending their servants laden with baskets of regaloes, and delicate choice Dainties. And thinking therein to do an almsdeed, out of them charity, they kill them for Gods-sake. In my opinion, this ought not to be suffered, but this cost should rather be bestowed upon the sickness, than the sick, and be put into their Keeper's hands, that are sworn to have a due care of them: for by that means, (having the counsel of some learned Physician) these things shall be better distributed in their proper place, and make more for their good: And to do otherwise, may prove hurtful and dangerous. And in this their ill-dispensed charity, not weighing the good, nor the hurt; the season, nor the sickness; whether it be fitting, or not fitting, they cram their craws, like so many Capons in a Coop, till they can swallow no more, and so die of the throttle. Henceforth therefore, let it be ordained, that such things as these, be given to those which minister unto them, who know better how to dispose of them, or let it be given in money, for to supply other their greater wants and necessities.  
O what a gentle disparate, what a pretty absurdity is this of mine, yet well grounded in Divinity? how am I leapt from the Oar to the Helm? What 
A remo, ad clawm & gubernaculum Navis: A Metaphor from Galley-slaves.  a Saint john the Evangelist am I become on the sudden, that I read you such a Lecture? The Oven grew hot, my zeal was kindled, and so these good flashes flew forth; you may the better pardon this fault in me, because I have made you some amends in being so short. As it came in my fingers, I took it along with me; it came in my way, and I could not let it slip: so shall I do hereafter, as often as occasion is offered. And look not thou on him that saves it, but to that which is said unto thee. For if thou be clad in a neat Suit of clothes, and that they sit well upon thee, it is not material, whether thy Tailor were crooke-backed, or no: that is not a thing to be thought on. And thus much by way of prevention, that thou mayest either leave me to myself, or arm thyself with patience. I wot well, that it is impossible to be well received of all; for there is not that Vessel in the world, that can measure men's tastes; nor that Balance, that can equal their like, or give an even poise to such uneven humours. Every one is in love with his own: and thinking his own judgement to be the best, is thereby the more deceived: For the most of men have it, for the most part, most depraved.  
But I return to my first station, whence I have digressed: for my mother looks for me, now being the widow of him that first possessed her; and dear beloved, and wonderfully much made of by this second Owner. In this change and alteration of things, between these and those other nuptials, 
Guzman had two fathers, by virtue of his mother.  I was between three and four years old: and by the reckonings and rules of your feminine knowledge, I had two fathers: for my mother was so well learned in her Art, that she knew very well how to father me on them both. She had attained to the knowedge of working impossibilities, as plainly was to be seen, since she had the cunning to serve two Masters, and to please two husbands; to both of them giving good contentment. Both of them did acknowledge me to be their son; the one said, I was his; so did the other. And when the Knight was alone by himself, my mother would tell him, that I was as like him, as if I had been spit out ● of his mouth; and that two Eggs were not liker one another, than I was like him. When again, she talked 
a As they say, cl gato es estornudo del ●…on, as like 〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 had been sp●…t out of his m●…, or ●…z 〈◊〉 of ●…is n●…se, f●…r his fa●…, 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  with my father, she would tell him, that I was his alter ego, that he and I were one, and so would have seemed, if our heads had been cut off, and laid in a Charger: and that I was himself, made less; and did so truly resemble him, as if my head had stood upon his shoulders. But I wonder a God, in this resemblance of mine, (which a blind man might discern at the first blush) that the mystery thereof was not discovered; that they found not out her craft, and searched not out the secret of this her deceit. But what with the blindness wherewithal they loved her, and the confidence which each of them had, it was not perceived, nor any the least suspicion made thereof And so both their beliefs were good, and both made exceeding much of me: the difference only was, that in the time the good old man lived, he was my true father in public, and the stranger in secret. And so my mother certified me afterwards, making large relations of these things unto me.  
And therefore I protest, howsoever men may talk, and seek to slander me, that it doth no whit prejudice me; I heard it from her own mouth, and barely relate unto you what she told me. For it were great indiscretion and unadvisedness in me, to affirm, which of these two did beget me, or whether I were the son of a third. Let her excuse me in this, who brought me forth: for it ill becometh any man to lie, much less to write an untruth: nor would I that men should say, that I maintain Paradoxes. But that woman, that professes to love two, deceiveth both the one and the other, and there is no trust to be had to her. This is to be understood of a single woman; for the rule in those that are married is otherwise. It is an old saying, That two is one; one, none; and three, Roguery. For a woman, making no reckoning of her husband, (and this is true which I speak) he being alone, is none; and he, with another, makes one; and with those other two, which are three in the whole, make up just as much, as those two to a single-woman. So that according to their reason, the reckoning is already made. But be it as it may be, and grant that this Easterling, this jew, or this Moor be my father; for since that they have said it, and every one doth aver it to be true, it is not fit that I should appeal, all parties being agreed. I call myself his son, and so I take myself to be: since that from that 
a Agreeing with that phrase which we use to latle children, when we tell them they were borne in their mother's Parsley-bed.  Mellon-bed I was made legitimate by the holy right of Matrimony. And it is much better for me this way, than that people should say, that I am ill borne, and the son of no man.  
My father did love us both with that true love, as his actions shall sufficiently declare. For by the force of this his love, he did tread underfoot the idolatry of that, which men style by the name of popular Voice, and common Opinion. For they knew no other name that she had, save the 
b By reason the old Knight held some Church-living in Commendum.  Commendadora; and to that would she answer, as if she had had some Commendum conferred upon her. But he not regarding any of these things, nor making any reckoning of the one or the other, setting as light by them, as the least hair of his head, kept company with her, and in the end took her to wife. I would have thee likewise to understand, that he did not enter upon this business, a humo de pajas, suddenly and unadvisedly, without having first well bethought himself of what he did. Every man knows his own estate best; And a fool understands more in his own, than a wise man in another man's house.  
In this Intermedium, albeit this his Quinta or Garden-house, which he had purchased, was a place of pleasure and delight, yet it was his undoing, it was his overthrow: The profit little, and loss much; the cost great, as well for the keeping of it neat and handsome, as for the feastings and banquet 
For poor men to keep places for pleasi●…e, is their ruin.  which were very frequent. Such kind of delicacies as these, and such places for recreations, are only fit for those, that have other large possessions, good sure Lands, great and certain Rents, which may quit the cost, and make the load seem the lighter. But for those that are not well lined, that have not a strong and able purse, and that have not the world at will, these niceties, are that Moth that eateth on, till it fretteth out and consumeth the heart: it is that Worm in Wood; that Maggot in the Nut, which turns all into dust and rottenness: it is Hemlock in a cup of Ambar; and poison in a golden Vessel.  
And thus much by the way concerning that point; it is but a touch; and now we go on. What with suits in Law, what with making love to my mother, and other expenses, one charge drawing on another, a great part of my father's state was consumed, all was almost gone, he was upon the point of breaking, and ready to turn 
a Estallido: Is the noise which a thing makes when it cleaves, or rends in sunder. Metaphoricè. A Bankrupt. How Guzman's Mother got her wealth which his father had with her.  Bankrupt, as he had often done before; so that it would have been no strange or new thing unto him.  
My Mother was a storer, a thrifty Wench, one that could hold her own; she was no waster, but lay still on the saving hand: what with that which she gained in her youth-fuller days, and what she had scraped up in the Knight's life-time, as likewise at his death, amounted almost to ten thousand Ducats, this was her Dowry, and so much had he with her.  
This money did somewhat refresh his drooping estate, it made him hold up his head again, who before was upon fainting, and ready to swoon: it was unto him like a piece of Week or Cotton in a Lamp, dipped in Oil; he began to give light afresh; he spent bravely, got him a Caroche, and a Silla de manos, a little chair to carry with hands, borne with girths upon men's 
Ill gotten goods what became of them?  shoulders, as well for ease, as state. Not so much for any longing that my mother had thereunto, as for his own ostentation and glory, that the world might not take notice of the weakness of his Estate, or that he was going down the wind. In this kind of fashion did he live to uphold his credit, and rubbed out as well as he might with his means; but his gains did not equal his expenses. There was but one to get, & many to spend; but one pair of hands, and a great many mouths. The Times were hard; the years dear; dealings, small and bad; little, or no Trading. What was well gotten, is wasted and gone; and what was ill gotten, hath not only consumed itself, but his owner too. So that at last, all was brought to nothing: Sin, brought it in; and Sin (on my conscience) sent it packing. For of all that was left, nothing appeared. The light was now quite out, and my father being taken 
The death of Guzman's Father.  with a grievous sickness, was arrested by Death within five days after: and so shut up his shop-windows, and departed this world.  
Now, for that I was a child, and of small understanding, I did not feel the want of a Father, nor found any great miss of him when he died, though I was then at that time a dozen year old, and better. And notwithstanding that we grew poor, the house was still well furnished with householdstuff, whereof we took now a piece, and then a piece, and sold it away by parcels for to buy us bread, and wherewith to eat. But the wealth of those, that 
The property of the wealth of rich men reduced to poverty.  have been rich, hath this property, that the remainder of their estate is always more, than the best estate of those that be poor; & daily more & more they leave some prints, which discover, like the ruins of Rome, what it was.  
My mother grieved much, for that she had lost a good and honest Husband, and found herself, not only robbed of him, but also of her wealth, and grown now so aged, that she was super-annuated for any more Suitors, so that she could not help herself with her good parts; nor recover her former credit. And albeit her beauty was not disfigured, yet her years had somewhat defaced it: And it grieved her exceedingly, that having been so many times sued unto by many, that she was not now in case to be courted: And especially of some such person, whose feathers she might have pulled from him; for otherwise, neither would she have yielded unto him, nor I have permitted it. Even in this also was I unhappy, since that income which my Mother got (as Cats do) by her tail, did then cease, when I had most need of it. I said amiss, when I said it ceased: For she was yet fit for action; and would (when she was so disposed) put on her dress, and wear her head attire, as being little more than forty years old. I have known since some old Maids (pussocks in comparison of her) of greater years, and less handsomeness, that would call themselves by the name of young Girls, and little pretty Maidens, and swear (if you would believe them when they lie) that they came but yesterday out of their swaddling clothes: And although my Mother did not show so fair for it, she thought her penny good silver, and would not give her arm for the wring, or her head for the washing. And she would rather die and starve for hunger, then bate an Ace of her former height, or fail one quilate in the touch and fineness of her punctuality.  
You now see me here left without a father, either the one or the other, our goods wasted, and that which is worst of all, bearing a high sail, living at a great rate, without any person in it to gain a penny, to maintain this port. On my father's side, 
a Cid, was the bravest & valiantest Soldier in his time, and had conquered five Kings of the M●…ores, and made them pay tribute. Guzman's lineage.  Cid did not go beyond me, he was no better a man than myself; for my possession crossed and divided that Lordship. On my mother's side, I was as well descended; my great grandfathers being men of great wealth, and of good esteem in their Country. I had more grafts, than the 
b In Toledo, they term Gigarrales, certain possessions, not fa●…e from Toledo, which are little choice garden plots, full of Fountains, as also Fruit trees, Vines, Olives, and Figs, with a little house of pleasure to entertain the Owner. But some of your Cigarrales are goodly things of great both value, and recreation; but of as much expense, as profit. Father Guadix says, that it is an Arabic word; and signifies as much as a little House. A notable vanity.  Cigarrales of Toledo, (for by that name are those Gardens of pleasure thereabouts called) as I learned afterwards. I tell you (as a thing publicly known to all the world) that my mother was her mothers own daughter, and trod just in her steps, she set her Sampler before her, that she might draw out some good work from thence, so that she went along in the very same path that she did, save only in that of their childbearing; for my grandmother brought forth a daughter for her comfort, and my father begot a son for my mother's ruin. If my Mother brought two into the net, my Grandmother brought two dozen, and made them like Chickens (if the world speaks truth) to eat together in one potsherd, and to sleep in one Hen-roost, and to be penned up in one Coope, without pecking one at another, or driven to hood them, as they do Hawks.  
With this daughter of hers, (I mean my Mother) she ensnared a hundred several persons, vowing and protesting to every supposed father, that my Mother was his child, and so to all, that she was like them all: To such a one, in her eye; to another, in her mouth; to a third, in most of the parts and lineament of her body: nay, to colour the business the better, she would go a little farther, in counterfeiting marks and moles in the face, and other spots in other parts to that purpose; not wanting to tell some, that she did spit like them, and that she had it naturally from them. She had this (as she was excellent in many) cunning trick with her, that when any of her sweetheart's were present with her, she would call her after his Surname. And if two, or more were there at the same time, she called her barely by her own name, without any addition. Her proper name was Marcelia, which was burnished and furbished over with the title of Don set over the head of it; for as she was called Donna Marcelia; so had she her Don or Cavallero for her servant. For Donna, without a Don, are less compatible, and less comely, than a house without a bed; a Mill, without a Wheel; or a body, without a shadow. As for her surnames, being they were things that merely depended upon her mothers own free choice and election; and for that she was uncertain thereof, because she could not well tell who was the true father to her daughter: I must therefore give you to know, that she did bolster her up, and underprop her, with the best titulary names she could devose, throwing more noble houses upon her, than a King of Arms could confer with all his far-fetched Pedigrees. Which to repeat unto you, were to reckon up a Bead-roll of Genealogies, as long as any Litany, that is solemnly sung at divine service.  
The Guzman's were those, unto whom she most inclined, (for she had a great liking to that name) and my Mother told me in secret, that in her opinion, which was no more than her own conscience did tell her: in discharge whereof, she did verily believe, and was fully persuaded (by some likely encounters, probable ghesses, and other circumstances of time and place iumping and concurring together) that she was some byblow of a Cavallero, that was near of kin to the Dukes of Medina Sidonia. My Grandmother was a wise woman, a crafty old Dame, and never wanted to her dying day, but had wherewithal to spend freely, nor was it any wonder; for when it began to wax night with her, and that it was time for her to shut up her shop, than did my Mother's dawning of the day begin to appear, and she had her at her elbow, to continue the trade for her, and the first bargain that she drove, was worth to her betterthen 4000 ducats, which she had of a rich Merchant, (with whom she held traffic, and exchanged wares) that was newly come from Peru, who did deliver her the money by basket-fuls, which was good and quick payment. She never made bad voyage, she still bore up, lived in plenty, and would not lose a jot of what was her due. No Christian could carry away her right from her; nor would she give any first fruits to the Devil.  
Now, if we had had the like goodluck, our misery might have been the less: Or if, as I was the only son of my Mother, it had been my good hap to have had a Sister, to have served as a prop to my Mother, as a Staff to her old Age, as a Pillar to our Poverty, and as a Port to our often shipwrecks, we would have bid a fig in Fortune's teeth.  
seville stood very fitly and commodiously seated for point of profit, or for 
seville, and its condition.  any kind of incroaching-getting, and as much is brought thither to be sold, as there is to be bought. For there shall you meet with Merchants that will deal with you in all commodities, no wares come amiss. It is Patria communis, and a free-common for all comers; it is a pasture, without enclosure; a Gordian Knot, an open field, a Globe without end, a mother of Orphans, and a shelter for Sinners; where all cry out of want, and yet no man wants. Or (since not this) that I had been bred up in Court, which is the Sea, that swallows all; the point, wherein all lines meet, and the very centre, whereunto all other parts have recourse: sure my abilities would not have been less than other men's; and as I should have wanted no good parts, so should I not have lacked entertainment. I should have lighted on some good Office or other, got to be in Commission, and other the like places of profit and honour, wherein I should have gone as far as another, and have found as much favour, had my purse been as good: For that will hold any thing fast, and is the only thing to keep a man in. And had the worst come to the worst, yet could we not have wanted meat and drink, but should have fared like Kings. For he that shall have a good piece of land, or the like pledge, either to impawne, or to sell, shall ever have a chapman ready at hand, either to buy it outright, or to lend so much money upon it, as to serve a man's present occasions. But I was an unfortunate man, (as you have already heard) and stood alone by myself, without any tree by me, either to shadow, or to shelter me. I had many troubles come upon me, the burden was heavy, my strength weak, my debt great, and my means small. See then and consider whether it were fit or no, that such a young Youth as I, that began to crow before I was scarce out of the shell, and to write man so soon, having such honest parts in me, and good endowments, should not be made some reckoning off? The best help that I had, was to try my fortune, by leaving my Mother, and my Country, to see if I could mend my miserable Estate. I did so, and because I would not be known, I would not make use of my Father's name: but that of Guzman, which I took from my Mother, and of 
Whence Alfarache●…ad ●…ad his name.  Alfarache, which was the place of my inheritance, as also of my being. With this resolution, I went abroad to see the World, travelling from place to place, re-commending myself to God, and well-disposed people, in whom I had put my trust.   

CHAP. III.  
How Guzman departed from his Mother's house upon a Friday towards the Evening, discovering by the way the torments of hunger, and that which befell him with his Hostess, recounting many notable examples of some Rules of ill government.  
I Was a fat plump Lad, well fed, and cockered up, bred in seville, never checked, chid, nor corrected by my Father: My 
The delicacy wherem Guzman lived.  Mother (as you have heard) a Widdow-woman, myself crammed with Collops of Bacon, your finest Bread, and your daintiest Cream; your sops of Honey steeped in Rose-water, more looked on and adored, than a Merchant of Toledo, or at least as good a man as he, it grieved me very much (besides that the love of a man's Country is sweet and dear unto him) to forgo thus my house, my kinsfolk and my friends. But being forced thereunto, I could not avoid it. The desire that I had to see the world, and to go into Italy to take acquaintance of my Noble Kindred and Alliance, did much quicken and put life into me.  
I set forth, which I ought not to have done (I may be bold to say it) late, and unluckily. And thinking to meet with some rich remedy, I lost all that 
Guzman departs from seville to se●… the world; and what happened unto him the first night.  little that I had. That happened unto me, which befell the Dog in the Fable with the shadow of his piece of flesh in the water.  
I had scarce gone out of the City gate, when (without being able to make resistance) two great Rivers (like an overflowing Nilus) did break out from forth mine eyes, watering my face in great abundance, till it was bathed all over with tears. What with this, and the nights coming on (for it grew dark) I could not discern any light of heaven; nor perceive so much as a hands-breadth of earth as I went along. When I came to San Lazaro, (which is but a little way off from the City, I sat me down there upon the stairs or steps, by which we go up to that holy Hermitage. There I made a new muster of my life, surveyed it over and over, and discoursed with myself thereupon. I was about to go back again, for that I came forth ill provided, worse advised, and poorly furnished with money for so long a Voyage, having scarce sufficient to serve my turn for a far shorter ●…ourney. And amongst other my so many misfortunes, (which when they once begin, 
Misfortune's seldom come alone.  come by clusters, hanging like Cherries, one at the tail of another) it was Friday night; and withal, somewhat dark. I had neither supped, nor had any beaver that afternoon. Had I gone out of the City upon a flesh day, although I had been borne blind, my nose would have helped me to smell out some one Cooks shop or other, where I might have bought a penny Pastry, wherewithal to entertain my stomach, and to dry up my tears, and so my sorrow would have been the less.  
Then I began to perceive, how much more sensible a man is of the good he loseth then when he enjoyed it; and what difference there is between the 
He that hath not wherewithal to eat, ●…ath store of sorrows.  hungry belly, and the full-fed paunch. All troubles pass the better with bread: Where good feeding faileth, there no good followeth; no evil which aboundeth not; no pleasure that endureth, nor content to comfort us. All fret and chafe, and know not why, nor wherefore. No man is in fault; and yet they lay it one upon another; all run upon the haunt, feigning strange Chimeras in their heads; all is then nothing but government; all is Philosophy. I had a great mind to my supper, but the devil a bit of any thing that I could get to put to my mouth, save a little fresh water that ran from a fountain that was there hard by. I knew not what to do with myself, nor how to cast about, to bring myself into some one Haven or other. That which did hearten me one way, did discourage me another. I found myself betwixt fears and hopes; a steep downfall before mine eyes, and ravening Wolves ready to devour me at my back. My thoughts began as fast to waver, as my feet did to wander: at length I was willing to put myself into God's hands. I entered into a Church, I poured forth a short prayer, but whether devout enough or no, I know not. Nor would they suffer me to dwell any longer on my Orisons; for the hour was come that they were to rid the Church, and to shut up the doors.  
The night was now shut up, and with it my imaginations, but not the tears, that trickled from mine eyes: In this melancholy humour I fell at last asleep upon a seat without in the Church-porch. I know not what should be the reason of it, unless peradventure, that sleep cracks cares, and breaks melancholy in twain. As that Mountanese gave us to understand, whogoing 
The con●…it of a Mountanese.  to bury his Wife, went barefoot, and barelegged; his jacket with its inside outward; and so in the rest, all was Kim-kam, I know not how. In that mountainous Country the houses stand apart, and some of them very far from the Church. And passing by a Tavern, he perceived white-Wine was there to be sold: whereupon he made as if he had some other necessary business to do, and said unto them; On a God's name, keep on afore, my masters, with this unfortunate Coarse, for I shall overtake you in a trice: So he slunk back, and went into the Tavern; where taking cup after cup, he sooped so long, till he was stark drunk, and there fell asleep. Now when those of his company came from the Burial, and found him stretched out upon the floor, they called aloud unto him; he after awhile being come again to himself, looking somewhat heavily upon them, said; Now a pocks of all ill luck: pardon me, (my masters) I pray, pardon me; for, I swear unto you, that there is not any thing in the world, that causeth more thirst, or more sleep, than sorrow. It was just even so with me; for it was now Saturday morning, and the Sun was some two hours high, when I began to bethink myself what I had been doing; nor should I have vvaked so soon, if the Timbrels, and the Songs, and the Dance of certain Women, which came thither that day to keep their Wake, and to feast, and be merry, with their dubbing, and their bawling, had not roused me up from sleep. I got me up, (though somewhat of the latest) hungry, and drowsy, without knowing for a while where I was; so that me thought I was still as it were in a dream. But when at last I was fully awake, and found all was true that I or saw, or heard, I said to myself; Echada esta la surety, the die is thrown, God send me good luck. And with this resolution, I went forward on my journey; but the devil awhit did I know whither I did go, nor indeed did I much stand upon it; for all was one to me. At last, I took that way, which offered itself fairest to mine eye; let it lead whither it would, I did not care. 
What ●…ses and Commonwealths are ill governed.  Which did then put me in mind of those ill-governed both houses and Commonwealths, where the feet perform the heads office. Where reason and understanding do not dispatch businesses; where they have not the command, it is to melt a man's gold, (come of it what may come) and afterwards to adore a calf. My feet carried me along; I followed as fast after them; come good, or come ill; over hill and dale trudge I. That happening unto me, which befell a foolish Physician in Mancha; who had no learning in the 
A ●…le of an ignorant Phis●….  world, never studied any Physical Author; but had gotten together (which he carried along with him) a great number of Receipts; some for Syrups, and some for Purges, which were distributed into several, either Boxes, or Viols.  
Now this cunning Leech, when he visited any sicke-body, (and looked to be well paid for his pains, for the good he should do him) he would thrust his hand into his Satchel, (which he still bore about with him for these purposes) and then would he take forth one of his recipes, saying first to himself, God dispose it to good. And so he gave the Patient that which came first to hand, without any more ado; work how it would work, that was all one to him; he would put that still to the venture. In letting of blood, he kept no account either for the Vein, or the quantity; but would cry, either a little more, or a little less, as he chanced to blurt the word at all adventure out of his mouth, casting himself upon Fortune, rushing thorough thick and thin; like him that carelessly runs thorough a Cornfield, where some Ears are trod underfoot, and some escape without harm; more by chance, then good cunning. I might then have said to myself, as did he, God dispose it to good; for I did not know what course I ran; I was ignorant of my way, nor could I tell, (if my life should have lain upon it) whither I was bound.  
But because his divine Majesty sendeth troubles, according to his own good will and pleasure, and for such ends, as are best known to himself, they 
Afflictions are sent us by God for our good.  turn all to our greater good, if we can have the grace to make true use of them. They began now to come fast upon me, and followed me at an inch, not allowing me one moment of content, nor affording me so much as a breathing-time from my cares, all the while that I was abroad in my travels: so that they never left, whither-soever I went. But these were not those, that were sent me of God; but only those which myself went seeking after. And there is a great deal of difference between the one, and the other: for those that come from the hand of God, he knows how to free us from 
Troubles sent from God, are jewels:  them; and such as these, are mines of most pure gold, most precious jewels, covered with a little Sward, or light Turf of earth, which with a little labour may be discovered and found. But those, which men draw upon themselves by their vices and sensual delights, are gilded Pills, which deceiving 
But drawn on by ourselves, are torments unto us.  the sight with a false show of a savoury taste, put the body out of order, if not utterly overthrow it. They are green fields, full of venomous Vipers; stones (at the first sight) of great esteem, but underneath are full of Scorpions: and lastly, an eternal death, which deludeth us with a short life.  
This day having wearied out myself with going only but two little Leagues, (which were the first that ever I went) it seemed unto me, that I had arrived at the Antipodes, and like another famous Columbus, that I had discovered a new World. Well, I came at length to an Inn, full of sweat and dust; my feet surbated, myself sad, and above all, with my Mill in very good state to grind, my teeth sharp, and my stomach faint. It was about Noon, I asked what we might have to dinner: they told me, That they had nothing but eggs; it had not been amiss if they had been eggs: for either 
The roguery of an Hostess.  whether the roguish Hostess, through too much heat, clocking over them, or that the Fox had killed the Hen, some were grown addle, others ready to hatch; and that she might not lose by them, she had put them in a box, and had mingled them with other eggs that were good. But she did not deal so ill with me, God reward her according to her usage of me: she saw I was a young Lad, ruddy-cheeked, full-faced, and plump withal; that I was a novice in the world, and looked like a good honest simple Youth, and that any thing would serve me well enough: upon this she asked me; My pretty child, whence are you? I told her, I was of seville: with that, she came nearer unto me, and giving me a chocke under the chin, she said unto me; Now you little wanton fool, whither wander you? O good God, how did her stinking breath annoy me! with her very touching of me, me thought I had drawn old-age upon me, the attraction was so sensible to my seeming. This made me imagine, that the utmost of evils had now lighted upon me, in meeting with such a filthy unsavoury Slut. And if my stomach had been full at that time, as it was empty, I should have spewed out all within me; for my stomach then rose up to my mouth, and my guts had almost kissed my lips. I told her, that I was going to the Court, and wished her to give me somewhat for my dinner. Then she made me sit down upon a lame Bench, and on the top of a little block, she spread a Dishclout before me, just for all the world, like unto the Maulkins wherewith she swept her Oven; and this (forsooth) was my Tablecloth: my Saltcellar, was the foot of an old broken Pitcher, or some piece of a potsherd, such as she sets full of water, to make her Poultry drink: and half a Loaf of bread, that was blacker than her Nappery. This preparation made, she presently poured me forth upon a plate a Froize of eggs, which might more truly have been termed a Plaster of eggs: they, the bread, the jar, the water, the Saltcellar, the salt, the linen, and the Hostess, were all one; so well did they suit together. I knew myself to be a young traveller, and therefore held it discretion to make no reply, but to take all patiently; my tongue was tied, my mouth muzzled, my stomach empty my guts shrunk, and clung so close together, as if they had been newly milched. I was as sharp set upon my Froize, as a Hog is after Acorns, and slopped up my eggs, as a Sow does Wash, I was so eager upon the business. I made no bones of it, all went clean up together without any great chewing▪ howbeit, to speak the truth, I felt the tender bones of those untimely Chickens to crackle between my teeth, that they made my gums to tickle again. I must tell you truly, that me thought, (besides the ill-favourednes of the taste, which was not like that of other eggs, which I used to eat at home in my mother's house) this was but a course kind ofusage; and such as I had not here-tofore been acquainted with. But I did let that conceit pass by, and drowned the imagination thereof in my hunger and weariness; conceiting with myself, that the distance of place, or difference of the Climate, might be the cause thereof, and that all eggs were not of one savour, nor of one quality. In conclusion, I digested all things so well, that I took it for a token of good luck. For it is as proper to him that is hungry, not to stand upon Sauces, and your fine relishes; as to him that is in want, to step out into the high 
He that is truly hungry, will not stick to eat any thing.  way, and to take a purse. No booty comes amiss to him that is in need. Beg, steal, or any thing, rather than starve.  
I made light of it, my dinner was short, and as quickly dispatched, and took in good part this my first course, though it could not well be courser. Upon my bread I dwelled somewhat longer; I fell to that a little more leisurely, pausing now and then betwixt every bit; for it being likewise very bad, I was forced to take longer time; one morsel making way for another, that it might the more orderly descend down into my stomach. I began with the crust, and ended in the crumb, which was as tough as Whit-lether, and as dry as a Pasteboard. But whatsoever it were, were it better or worse, I devoured every jot of it; nor did leave out of courtesy, the least crumb thereoffor the Ants to feed upon, no more than if it had been little, and good. That happening unto me, which doth befall good feeders, when they fall close to a dish of fruit; who picking out first the best and the ripest, do (as in the eating of Cherries) eat up the greenest and worst last, without once thinking of those that were gone before. Then did I eat apace, one bit (as they say) driving down another, till I had made an end of half a Loaf: which, if it had been good, or but any thing reasonable, or that it had but pleased my eye, (for it was but poor browne-bread) I would have taken in a greater crop, and have filled up my pann●…ll, with a whole Loaf of at least three pound weight. The year was barren by reason of the great droughts; and in such times as those, seville was wont to suffer much scarcity; for even in their better, and more plentiful years, they have had much ado to rub out: what hope can there then be, when corn is scant with them?  
But it is not fit, that I should enlarge myself in this subject, nor open the mystery thereof unto you, by giving you a reason for it. I am a son of that City, a Towne-borne child: I will therefore hold my peace; for all the whole World is one and the same, here and there, and every where, all alike. For no man buys an 
a Or a Monopoly▪ Aga●…st the ●…l Governors and Magistrates of seville.  Office for any other end and purpose, but for his profit, be it public, or be it private; they will grate and scrape, be it by hook or by crook, to raise a fortune there-out unto themselves. Few are they, that will part with so many thousand Ducats, for to do good unto the poor, but to themselves. For ere they will bestow a farthing-token on a poor body by way ofalmes, they will first examine the business, and consult with themselves, whether it be a charitable act or no.  
Thus it fared with a Regidor, who being espied by an old man, one of that Town where he had to do, to exceed the bounds of his duty, and to do things beyond his Commission, called him unto him, and told him; How now Signior N, etc. Is this it, that you were sworn unto, when you were admitted at the Assembly, to be one of our Company, that you should go about to pick up your crumbs a this fashion, and troth up and down to shark for these 
b The conceit of this passage, co●…sists in the word Menudos, and its double significat●…on. For Menudo's are brass Moneys: they signify also particular necessities. Menudo is likewise the entrails of a sheep, together with the head and feet: and in birds, the garbage. And these are usually eaten in Spain upon Saturday, but no other part of the carcase. This last signification sorts best.  Menudoes? To whom he made this answer; Do not you see, how I comply with mine Oath, since I come for them every Saturday to the Shambles? I bought them with my money, and I had them out of the poor sheep's belly. After this manner all things pass, in all places; it is the world. They go dividing the spoil among themselves; they will fetch flower from all parts to make themselves a good Cake. Claw me, claw thee: to day for me, tomorrow for thee: do thou give me leave to buy, and I will give thee leave to sell. They make restraints for selling of Victuals, save only at such set times and places: they set the prices upon all things, as if they were their own: and when they please they will sell the same again at what rate they think fit. For all is theirs, as well what is bought, as what is sold.  
Myself am a Witness, that a Regidor of one of the chiefest Cities of Andaluzia, and Kingdom of Granada, had a flock of sheep, an herd of Goats, and some other milch-beasts; and for that the weather was cold, he could by no means utter his milk, but every man fell to his 
c Bunnuelo, is a certain round Fritter composed of Meal, Oil, and Honey: and is more used in Spain, then in any other parts, in Winter time. It is called Bunnuelo, quasi Punnuelo, because it is strained or squeazed out of the Fist, and so let fall into the Pan of Oil.  Bunnuelo's. Now thinking with himself, that he should lose much thereby, if Lent should grow on, and should not remedy the matter beforehand, he propounded at an open Meeting, or public Assembly, That the Moriscan Bunnulero's, or Frittermakers, did rob the Commonwealth. He rated them therefore at a lesser price, than it stood them in, amounting to little more than six 
d A Maravedis, is a small piece of brasse-money, 32. of them go to sixpences.  Maravedis. Well, he was willing in the end to raise them to eight, allowing them rather a small, then moderate gain.  
Hereupon, none would make of them, because they could get nothing by the bargain. And so in that space or tract of time, he spent the profits of his Cattle, in Butter, Cream, fresh-Cheese, and other such like things, till the time of year was come, that he was to put forth his Flocks and Herds of Cattle into the common fields. And when he began to make his Cheese, then would he raise up your Bunnuelo's to twelve Maravedis, as they were at before; but then Summer was coming on, and they shortly to grow out of season. He himself did not stick to report this crafty trick of his, to teach men how to become good husbands, and how they ought to beat their brains, to make shift to live.  
Now let us return again into our old way, from which we have digressed: for me thinks it is not meet, that we should lay all the fault upon the Magistrates and Governors of Towns and Incorporations, being that we may distribute it as well among others. Let us throw some of this upon your Purveyors, 
The craft of a couetou●… Magistrate.  and Commissaries; and not upon all neither, but on some of them, as it may be four out of five, or so; who like Caterpillars destroy the Land, by robbing of poor old Men, and desolate Widows, by deceiving of their betters, and by telling lies, and informing falsehoods to their King; the one for to increase their lands and inheritances; and the other, to have them confirmed unto them, that they may settle a good estate upon the Heirs of their house, and have wherewithal to live in fullness, and in plenty.  
This likewise is somewhat out of the way from that discourse which I ought here to treat of, and requires of itself a whole and entire book. I treat in this of mine own life, and therefore will not meddle with other men's; but I do not know, whether I shall be able, when a ball offers itself so fairly unto me, to pull back my hand or no? For there is no man that is Master of himself, when he is on horseback: How much more is a man unable to contain himself, in things so generally known? Both the one and the other is generally embraced, and all walk the same way, yielding the field to the stronger, crying out Uivat, qui vincit, let him live that conquers; and he wear gold that wins it. But alas, how do we deceive ourselves? For we are those that are conquered; and he that deceiveth, is the deceived. I say then, that Sevilla per fas, aut per nefas, either by right or by wrong, one way or other, I know not which (considering her abundance of fruits, and the dearness of them) suffreth sterility, and scarcity; and that year was there greater want and penury then heretofore, by reason of some secret disorders, and through the covetousness of those, who should have sought to remedy the matter, who did study only their own ends, and to make a particular fortune to themselves. The secret of this mystery past only between some three or four of them, many were not acquainted with it, who without considering the ends, took in hand bad beginnings, and devilish means, to the hurt of their own Commonwealth.  
In all my travels, I have ever observed, that these great rich men, and powerful 
Rich men are like Whales: for they grow great by the hurt of others.  persons, are like unto Whales, who opening wide the mouth & jaws of their covetousness, swallow up all that comes in their way; to the end that their houses may be well provided for, and their revenues increased, without casting any eye of compassion upon the poor young Orphan; or lending an ear to the cry of the distressed Damsel; or affording his shoulders for to uphold the feeble and the weak; or opening his charitable hands to relieve the sick, and him that is in need: but rather under the name of good government, every man so governs himself, that he does the best he can, to draw all the water to his own Mill. They publish good desires; but they exercise bad actions. Their pretensions are fair; but their practice stark naught. They would seem to be God's Lambs, innocent and harmless souls, but the Devil only makes profit of them; they fall wholly to his share; he, and none but he reaps the fruit of them: God has the name indeed, but the Devil hath the shearing of them. There was good store of Rye bread, passable enough, and at a reasonable price; He that had Wheat, reserved the Flower of the Meal for his own table, and the refuse he brought forth to sell in the Market, as if any thing were good enough for the poor Commons. Our Officers and great men turned to be Bakers, and those went about to burn and waste the Country, which should have rather been willing to have been burned for it. I can not deny, but this was punished, and that there were many good men, to whom evil seemed evil. But in such necessities as these, it is not to be holpen by a few. Besides, the great numbers of those that were interessed therein, did crush those, that offered to stir against them, because they were poor. And if poor, it is enough, I need say no more. Let every man make his own conjecture, and discourse that with himself.  
Perceivest thou not how impatient I am? Seest thou not that I can not contain myself? and how that my pen, before ever I thought of lashing out so far, hath slipped upon this Theme. They gave me the yark with the spur, and I turned my head to strike where they pricked me. I know not what excuse to make thee, but to tell thee, that I do as Carriers do, that drive their beasts of burden before them, who rush the man that meets them against the brickwall, or throws him to the ground, and then say, I cry you mercy, Sir. In conclusion, all the bread was nought, although then it did not relish amiss with me. I did refresh myself with eating, and did cheer up my heart with drinking, for the Wines of those Countries are exceeding rich, generous, and full of spirit; and with this I had pretty well recovered myself, and received new courage. And my feet, that were wearied out with bearing my belly, though empty, and of small weight (as being lightly laden) now that it was full, and had his load, made shift to carry my feet.  
And so I went on on my way, with no small care to know, what knacking of 
a Castanneta, is the stroke or sound, that is given with the Thumb, and the middle finger, when they dance. And to make the noise the louder, they tie two hollow thin pieces of wood to their thumb, which are made round after the manner of your Chesse-Nuts. Castanneta, being derived from Castanna, which signifies a Chestnut.  Castannetas' that might be, which made the Eggs that I had eaten, to dance in my mouth. My imagination was working to and fro upon this matter; and the more it did beat upon it, the more misfortunes represented themselves unto me, and my stomach began to stir more and more: for I could suspect nothing less than a kind of loathing, seeing how ill they were dressed, of what blackness the oil, like to that which is in the bottom of a Lamp; a fowl Pan; and a fowl blear-eyed Hostess.  
Thus my imagination running from one thing to another, I met at last with the truth; and having gone another League, my fancy wrought so with me, that I could hold no longer. For as it is with your women that are with child, so was it just with me. Eructations and belchings did come and go from my stomach to my mouth, till at last I fell a vomiting, till there was not any thing left within me. And even yet to this day, me thinks I hear those little chickens, those poor pretty fools, cry still peep, peep, within my bowels.  
Being in this miserable taking, I sat me down on the side of a hollow Ditch, that served for a fence to certain Vines that were thereby; considering with myself the misfortunes that I had, and was like to run into, much repenting myself of my ill advised departure. But it is, and ever will be the fashion of young fellows, to cast themselves away headlong, upon their present pleasures, without having an eye, or any regard in the world to their future hurt, or the harm that will follow after.   

CHAPTER IU.  
Guzman de Alfarache, recounteth to a Carrier what had betided him with his Hostess: And discourseth of laughing. After that, he tells two short Tales; one, of a covetoas Physician; the other of two young men, how they used the said Hostess: And upon the neck of that falls into a learned Discourse, touching the pardoning of injuries.  
TRoubled in mind, full of care and thoughts, and pensively musing with myself, I lay all along on the ground, leaning mine head upon mine arm; when by chance a Carrier happed to pass by, who went along with empty Mules, which were to be laden with Wine at the Village called Caçalla de la Sierra. He seeing me sitting in this melancholy manner, a Young Stripling, all alone, afflicted in mind, handsome in my person, and reasonably well clad, as one that had been much made of heretofore, began (as I then conceived) to pity my troubles, and to take compassion of me, ask me, what the matter was, that I was so sad. I told him all that had happened unto me in my Inn; and had scarce made an end of my Tale, when he broke forth into such a You'll of laughing, that he was ready to burst, and I to break forth into choler. And that face of mine, which before was as pale as ashes, was set on fire by those coals of anger, which were kindled in my breast against him. But because I was not then a Cock that stood upon my own dunghill, nor scarce mine own man; as also for that I found myself disarmed, and as it were in a desert by myself: I held my tongue, and said nothing unto him, because I could not crow as I would. For it is discretion to dissemble that, which a man cannot help; Patiently brooking this his rather grinning, then laughing: And those ends that are doubtful in their obtaining, must be throughly first consulted on, and be reduced to some certain grounds and Principles. For opinions are various, and honours vitreous, glassy, and subject to breaking. And if I should there, at that time, have mis-behaved myself, happily he would have laid hold on me first, and by adventuring to gain upon him, I might have run the hazard, if not the certainty of losing all. For Competition is a thing to be avoided. But if it cannot be avoided, but that we must needs have it, let it be with our equals; and rather of the two, with thy Superiors, than thy inferiors; but have a care that thou do not over-match thyself with those that are too strong for thee, lest they trample upon thee, and tread thee under foot. Every thing hath its Vice, and there must an account be given of it. But although I did forbear him; yet he had so heated me, that out of the warmth of that choler, which yet boiled within me, I could not choose but tell him:  
My friend; Do you see me coated for a Fool; or with a Fool's Cap on my head? Or what else is it that occasions you thus to laugh? He, rather increasing, then ceasing his laughter, as if it had been a task put upon him, or 
The description of laughter.  a part that he had been enjoined to play: so fast it came from him, that gaping with his mouth fist-wide, he let his head fall on tone side, (for he was not able for laughing to hold it upright:) and laying both his hands as hard as he was able, one while upon his belly, another on his sides, for fear of bursting; he was scarce able to sit upon his Beast for falling, and seemed with his extreme straining of himself, as if he would at every bout have come tumbled down on the ground.  
I was about to answer him some three or four times, but I could never come to do it: for I no sooner offered to speak unto him, but he presently fell a fresh to his laughing till he chucked again; so did his pot run over, when it once fell a boiling.  
God be thanked yet at last, after this great inundation and sudden breaking forth of waters, (that those over-flowing of Tagus could not be greater) began to fall by little and little, by patches and by pieces, now a word & then a word, as well as he could, having taken a little breath, delivering his mind by halves, like one that stumbles and goes, and goes and stumbles, he blunderd forth these words unto me: My good Youth, I do not laugh at your ill success, nor do your misfortunes glad me any whit at all: but I laugh at that, which happened to this woman scarce two hours since. Did you happily meet with two young fellows, that were Comrades, and walked along together, and seemed by their habit to be Soldiers; the one clad in a medley green suit; the other in a grey or ash-coloured cloth, with a white doublet cut to the skin? These two (quoth I) by your description, if my memory do not fail me, when I left the Inn, remained there behind, being newly come in, when I went my way, and called for their dinner. These then (said the Carrier) are those that have revenged your quarrel. And the jest, that they put upon the Hostess, is that which I now laugh at. But if you go my way, get up upon one of these beasts; & as we ride along I will tell you how it was. I thanked him for his kindness, as I had good cause so to do, considering my present necessity, rendering him such good language, as I thought might make sufficient payment for such a courtesy. For good words requite good works, when a man is not able to pay him, that he is beholding unto, in better money; 
Kind words currant money in case of necessity.  and that he is in necessity, to whom the kindness is done.  
Mounting myself then upon this ill accoutred Jennet, howbeit it was no better than a plain Ass with a packsaddle; yet it seemed to me a Silla de manos, or easy hand-Chayre, a Litter or a Coach, drawn with four horses. For some succour, in case of necessity, although it be little, yet it helpeth much; and that which is but a trifle to him that gives, is an infinite supply to him that wants: it is like a little stone, that is thrown into a smooth & clear water, which makes not only many, but great circles also. And then is a kindness most to be esteemed, when it comes in a good coniuncture, albeit it always comes well, and never too late, so as it come at last. Now (me thought) I saw Heaven opened, and my honest Carrier appearing unto me in the shape of an Angel. His face was as joyful unto me, as that of the desired Physician is to him that is afflicted with sickness. I say, desired; because (as perhaps you may have heard) a Physician hath three faces. Of a man, when we see him, and have no need of him: Of an Angel, when we are sick, and cannot be 
A Physician hath three faces.  without him; and of a Devil, when at one and the selfsame time our sickness, and our purse ends together, and yet for his private interest and to gain a fee, he follows us with daily visits. As it happened to a Gentleman in Madrid, 
A Tale of a Physician that loved money too well. In Spain your Physician's fee is ordinarily two shillings; t●…e better sort give four shillings, and the▪ best seldom above a ●…rowne. The nature of Scr●…ants.  who having sent for a Physician, for a certain infirmity, wherewithal he was troubled, every visit that he made, gave him a Crown. The humour ceased; but his Physician was not in the humour to cease from coming unto him.  
Now the Gentleman, when he saw that he was thorough well, and that his Physician did still continue his Visits, he got him up one morning very early, and went to Church.  
Now, when the Physician came to visit him, and found him not at home, he asked his servant whither he was gone. He (like a fool as he was) for there are servants still enough for their Master's hurt, but few for their profit, told him, that he was gone forth to Mass to such a Church. My nimble Doctor, putting spurs to his Mule for to make the more haste, went with all speed to the said Church, and searching for him, at last he found him; and then said unto him; What a-Gods name, Sir, do you mean to commit so great an excess, as to go abroad without my leave? The Gentleman, who knew well enough what he came for, and seeing that now he had no more need of him, put his hand in his pocket, took out his purse, drew forth a Crown, and putting it in his hand, told him; Here, take it; (master Doctor) for by the faith of a Gentleman, I now perceive, that this sacred place cannot privilege me from you.  
See here, how far the covetousness of a foolish Physician carries him; and how far the virtue of a quick and noble disposition, this other Gentleman.  
I betook me to my beast, and fetching my rise, I got up upon his back, and away we went together: and we had scarce gone a furlong from the place, but we met with two Churchmen that sat there hard by, expecting some passengers, that would carry them on horseback towards Caçalla, (for there was their dwelling) and had been at seville about a certain Suit in Law. By their carriage and their countenance you might well know their good life and their poverty. They were well spoken men, very kind, and very courteous; the one was about some 36. years of age, the other above fifty. They made the Carrier stay, they agreed with him; and, doing as I had done before, they got each of them up upon his Ass, and we proceeded on our journey.  
But all this while, so great was the laughter of this honest man, and so excessive beyond all measure, that he could scarce go on with his tale: for betwixt every word he would let go the sluice of his sides, whilst like a Flood that furiously breaks forth, his laughing suddenly flushes out upon him: and as in houses, where men victual upon the way, a man shall meet many times with a bare couple of Hens only amongst five hundred persons; and see what they want in good cheer, they make up with good mirth: so this man's laughter was threefold more than his discourse; so far did his spleen out-talk his tongue. These his delays were so many Spears in my sides; every deferring was a farther provoking: so that I was all this while upon thorns. For he that hath a longing desire to know a thing, would willingly have one word come treading on the heels of another; and with a quick and nimble pace come (if it were possible) huddling all at once out of the mouth.  
Never any woman that hath been with child, did ever more earnestly long for any thing, than I did to know the success of this business. Me thought I did consume and pine away while I was held in this suspense, I could have burst for anger, that my ears were put off, from having a present hearing: for I could not but expect, that some great matter must arise from such a glorious and ingenious Fabric, as this made show to be. I began to conceit with myself, whether some fire fall'n from heaven, had consumed the house, and all that was therein: or whether those young fellows had set the house on fire, and roasted my Hostess alive: or at least (for a lesser revenge could not be taken ofso vile a creature) whether or no they had stripped her stark naked, and hung her up by the heels upon an Olive-tree, and given her some thousand lashes, till they had left her for dead: for lesser things than these, his laughter could not promise. Howbeit, I must confess, had I been then so wise and considerate, as I should have been, I ought not to have 
Excessive laughter condemned.  looked for any great matter, or to presume that any good thing could proceed from one, that was thus immoderate in his laughter. For even that which is moderate, doth in a kind of manner, accuse a man of lightness, argue indiscretion, want of judgement, and store of vanity: but that which is dis-composed, and out of Reason's compass, is (though there be never so much occasion offered) the mark of a madman, and the only note of an absolute Ass, or complete Foole.  
At last (God be thanked) this Mountain brought forth its Mouse: in conclusion, he told us, (but with a thousand stops and jumps, and his wont bounds and curvets of laughing) that he having stayed to drink a little 
A jest put upon an Ho●…esse by two young fellows.  wine, and to tarry the coming of a Companion of his, whom he had left behind, he perceived, that the Hostess of the house brought in on a Plate, a Froyze of six eggs; three of them stark naught, the other not so bad; which she set before them: and going about to divide this their Froyze or Tansy in twain, it seemed unto them, that it made a certain kind of resistance, refusing (as it were) to be parted, one piece hanging (like torn rags) at the tail of another. Whereupon, because this seemed to be somewhat a bad sign, and such as they did not well like of; they began to search a little more narrowly, what should be the cause thereof. They were not long in discovering the truth; for they might discern certain knobs and knurs in it; which, had it been any body but myself, he might at first sight have seen how the world went, and where the fault lay; but being a young Lad, I should easily have swallowed such a Gudgeon, and should in good manners have slightly past it over. But these were a little more curious, and more Courtlike, and sifted it out so finely, that they found to their seeming, three little round bumps, like three little Chickens heads all clotted together. And this cleared the doubt; for finding the bills of these pretty fools somewhat hard grown and none of the tenderest, the pad that lay in the straw was presently perceived. And they taking one of them between their fingers, going about to crush and break it in pieces, it put forth his bill, and began (though dead) to peep forth its head, and spoke aloud unto them, and told them plainly, whence, and what he was. So they covered the Plate, clapping another thereupon, and whispered somewhat in secret amongst themselves: what it was, I then knew not, howbeit afterwards it did manifest itself; for presently one of them called out, and said; Hostess, have you any thing else for us? she had a little before (in their sight) bought a 
a Sabalo, is a known fish, and a savoury, and is called Sabalo, quasi Sapalo à Sapore. In Latin they call it Alofa, Frista, Clupea. In fresh water it doth vs●…ally dye. Rondelecio de Piscibus, lib. 〈◊〉. cap. 15.  Sabalo, (which is a Fish like a Shad) which she had put upon the ground for to rub off the scales of it, telling them; I have such a Fish here, whereof (if you will) I shall spare you a slice or two, other meat have I none. I pray (mother) said they, broyle it us quickly then, for we must be gone; and if it stand with your good liking, set a price what you will have for it all, and we will carry it home along with us. She said, it being cut out into pieces, every slice will yield me a Royal, and I cannot bate you a farthing of it. They said, No: they thought it was too much, one Royal profit in the whole, were very good gains.  
At last they agreed for two Royals; for a bad paymaster never reckons what he receiveth, nor stands a hucking for that, which he is to take up upon trust. It went against her heart to let them have it so, howbeit the gain of two Royals in four, for so short a time as she laid it out of her purse, did work much with her, and made her willing at last to let them have it. She cuts it out into pieces, broyles two of them, they eat it, the rest they wrapped up in a Napkin of her own; and after they had filled their bellies, being not well contented with their ill usage, in stead of paying their Reckoning, they reckoned without paying. For one of the young fellows, taking the Froyze of eggs in his right hand, went directly thither where the old woman was unpanching the belly of an old rotten sheep, that had died in some ditch, to make thereof Tripes and Chitterlings, or (as the Spanish word hath it) 
b Mondongo, is a ●…odge-podge made of the entrails and trotters of a sheep, or other beast, boiled, and sold at every corner of the streets in Spain to poor folks.  Mondongoes; and with all the force that he had, threw it full in the face of her, ceiling up both her eyes therewith, which looked like an old brickwall all to bedawbed with rough-cast. Which plastered eyes of hers, he had made so blind and painful unto her, that not daring to open them, she cried out, as if she had been mad, whilst this his other Companion, behaving himself, as if he had rebuked him for it, and that he might be ashamed to use a poor old woman in this uncivil kind of fashion, threw me a handful of hot ashes in the very face of her, and so they got them out of doors, telling her, as they went away; Ah you old rotten Carrion, Qui en tall haze, que tall pague, you are now paid in your own money: what you got by your cozening, you may now put it in your eye.  
She was toothless, chap-fallen, hollow-eyed, and wappering withal, her hair sluttishly hanging about her ears, unkempt, and as greasy, as it was knotty; a fouler Swine no man ever saw: mealed she was all over, like a Mullet dressed with Flower, or a Flounder that is ready for the frying-pan; with a gesture so graciously scurvy, a look so pleasantly fierce, and in all the rest so handsomely ill-favoured, that as oft as you shall but think either of it or her, you cannot (if your life should lie upon it) but you must needs burst forth into laughter.  
With this, he ended his story, telling us, that he had now matter enough to laugh at all the days of his life. Whereunto I answered; And I to weep. Why, quoth he? Because when time was, I did not do the like: but like a coward (as I was) suffered my revenge to come from another's hand. But I vow (if God give me life and health) it shall cost her dear; I will make her pay for the old and the new; I will have my penny-woorths out of her, and make myself that full amends, that the longest day she has to live, she shall think upon the eggs, and the Youth.  
The good honest Clergymen much condemned their Hostess, and did as much reprove my speech; for that I seemed to be grieved, that I had not done her a mischief. They both set themselves against me, and turning towards me, the ancienter of the two, seeing me so angry and full of choler, spoke thus unto me:  
Your hot and young blood moves you to say that, which your own good nature and ingenuous disposition will by and by confess to be ill: and I hope in God, that I shall work so much good upon you, that you will be sorry for the present, for what you have said, and study to correct hereafter, not only the acting of any such violent deed, but the very thought of it.  
Saint Matthew in the fifth Chapter of his holy Gospel, and S. Luke in his 
A discourse touching the pardoning of m●…s.  sixth, read us this Lesson; Love your enemies, and do good to them that hate you. Wherein you are first to consider, that the Evangelist doth not say, Do good unto those, that do ill unto you; but he saith; Do good to them that hate you. For suppose that your enemy should hate you, yet is it impossible that he should hurt you, unless you will yourself. For, it being an infallible truth, that we are to account those as true goods, which are to continue for ever: and that those which fail us to morrow, (as they often do) are more properly 
T●…ue good is that which is ete●…all.  to be called evils, for the ill use which we make of them: since that in the trust that we have in them, & nos ipsos, & illa amittimus, we lose both them and ourselves. We may reckon these our enemies, to be our best friends; and 
The goods of this ●…orld are not good.  these our friends to be our greatest enemies; in regard of the effects which arise from the one and the other: for, from our enemies, ariseth all our true good; and from our friends, our assured hurt. We may plainly perceive, 
A faithful friend, what go●…d he may do ●…s.  how that the greatest good that we can draw from the faithfullest friend that we have in this world, can be no more, then to pleasure us, either with his purse, by giving us all that he hath; or by his life, by employing it in those things that give us content; or by his honour, by not sticking to hazard that for us, when our reputation shall lie at the stake. In which two latter none will adventure themselves; or there are so few of them to be found, that I doubt we shall not be able to produce any example in these times wherein we live. But say it were so indeed, and that there were some such kind of men now adays, and should jump together in all these three repeated particulars, when they have done all that they can, it is much less (if in that which is not at all, a magis and a minus; a more, or a less, may be found) then a Geometrical point. For, when he hath given me all that he hath in this world, (were it never so much) it is too small a substance to free me from hell. Besides, men do not now adays spend their wealth, and their riches upon the virtuous, but such as are conditioned like themselves, and assist them in their sins; and these are the friends that they reckon of, and to these their purse is open.  
If for my sake, my friend should lose his life, one minute of time is not added thereby unto mine; if he should put his honour in peril, nay say, he should be willing to lose it quite for his love to me, I say, that is not honour, nor may it be so called: for true honour is that, which is engaged in the service of God; and whatsoever is otherwise, and hath not some reference thereunto, is false and evil. So that, whatsoever my friend shall throw upon me, being it is temporal and of no continuance, it is unprofitable, vain, and of little or no worth at all. But my enemy, proves all pure wheat; all turns to profit, that comes from him to me; so that myself will be willing to make true use 
The good we receive from our enemies.  thereof. For from his ill-wishing to me, do I come to wish well unto him; and therefore God will wish well again unto me, and do me good, (though I deserve ill) for that I do good for ill. If I pardon him a light injury, to me are forgiven and remitted an infinite number of sins; and if he speak ill of me, and I speak well of him, his evil language cannot hurt me; and his bitter tongue shall bring me a blessing; Come ye blessed of my Father, etc. So that by his thoughts, words, and works, my enemy makes mine to be good and true.  
And what is the cause, think you, of this so great a wonder, and whence is the force of this so excellent a virtue? I shall tell it you, because it is a thing commanded by God, because it is his express will and commandment so to do. And if we are to observe that of the Princes of this world, much better (without comparison) is it, to keep that which is commanded us by the King of heaven: before whom are humbled all the hearts both of heaven and earth. And that saying of his, I command you this, is a 
* God's commandments are sweet.  sweet conserve, which is applied to the distasted palate of him that is commanded. As if the Physicians should prescribe their sick Patients to take flowers of Oranges, young preserved Walnuts, buds of Limmons, rinds of Pome-Citrons, the roots of wild 
a The Spanish word is Escorzonera. This ●…rbe the I a●…es call Viperina, a species of that which they call Barba de Cabron. It is called Escorzonera, because it is good against the venom of Toads, and all other venomous Vermin; and amongst the rest, the Viper. This Plant was first found out in Spain in Catalunna, by a slave of Barbary. And in harvest-time men being slung by Vipe●…s, they gave them the juice of this herb, wherewith they were healed. There is excellent good now in this kind, in the Sierras de Cuenca in Spain. Vide Mathiolo, lib. 2. cap. 137. Et Covarrwias, verb. Esco●…zonera. We must obey God.  Borage, or bugloss. What shall I say more? O my good Lord, do not give me any such thing! for a body that is strong and in health, can by no means away with it, but is rather unpleasing than otherwise. But for the better swallowing of these Pills, and to make the relish the sweeter, they are so well candyed and rolled up in Sugar, that what was hard in itself to be taken down, is now become sweet and savoury unto us. The like effect doth this sweet Conserve of God's Word work with us. I commend (saith the Text) that ye love your enemies. This is a dainty Sauce, made for that sour Morsel, which before was so unsavoury to our tastes. So that, that which goes most against our stomaches, and which flesh and blood can hardly endure, by reason of its bitterness, being to our concupiscences and fleshly desires, no better then very Gall and Wormwood; The Spirit tells us in the voice of a good Physician, now it is made more pleasant, more savoury and sweeter for you, since that Christ our Redeemer hath so commanded it. So that if a man should now strike me on the one cheek, I would turn the other: for it is an honour unto us punctually to observe those orders which are delivered unto us by those that are set in authority over us, and not to break them in the least branch or tittle.  
A General doth command one of his Captains, that he make good such a strong place or passage, by which the enemy is to pass; where, if he will himself, it shall be in his power to overcome him, and to kill him: but his General tells him; Take heed, I charge you, for it much importeth my Service, and it is my pleasure so to have it, that when he shall pass by you, you offend him not, but let him go quietly along, notwithstanding that he should give you cause to the contrary, and provoke you all that he can to fight with him.  
Now when this his enemy shall pass thus along by him, and shall brave him to his face, and revile him with reproachful and injurious terms, calling this Captain Coward, and other the like disgraceful names, will this Captain (think you) though thus mightily abused, and affronted in the face of the whole Army, offer him hereupon any offence at all, or violently set upon him? No certainly: But he will rather laugh at him, as a Braggadoccio, and vaine-boaster; and though he could easily have overthrown him, and killed him at pleasure; yet he doth it not only because he would keep that Order which was given unto him: And if he should have broken it, he had done very ill, and contrary to his duty, and therefore had well deserved to be punished for it. What reason then is it, that we should not diligently observe the orders and ordinances, given us by God? Why should we go about to break them; or seek even in the least kind of manner to contradict them? If a Captain, for his pay only, and upon hope of some better preferment (which is a hazard, whether he shall ever attain there-unto or no) shall be so punctual: why should not we be as observant, since we shall gain thereby 
God rewardeth the obedient.  a celestial reward, which is reserved for us? Especially, since that he that made the Law, had the first handsel of it himself, and submitted himself thereunto, by suffering and receiving from that unhallowed and sacrilegious hand of an under-officer, a great buffet on that most sacred face of his, without returning him so much as an evil word, or any angry look.  
If God himself could be content to endure such rough usage, and pocket it up with so much patience: Why should this same Nada del hombre, this same nothing of man, this res nihili, why I say should he be puffed up with pride, 
Man aught to be humble, not proud.  transported with passion, and stand upon his puntoes, and terms of honour? And why, for to receive satisfaction of a poor silly word, shot out un-awares, or advisedly; or howsoever (complaining of the infiniteness of the wrong) breaking forth into rage, should one Christian challenge the field of another, seeking amongst Infidels, as if he were one of them himself, a 
a The Duel, in Spain is a capital crime. And therefore the Spaniards, when they 〈◊〉 1 the Field, g●…e into Barbary to end their quarrel.  place, where to fight it out; or (to speak more truly) to thrust themselves wilfully into the hands of the Devil their mortal enemy, flying from those of their Creator?  
Of whom we may learn, that when he was to leave this world, and was to seal his last Will and Testament, he suffered himself to be nailed to the Cross, his body to be bored, his flesh to be torn, being full of pain, and gored all in blood, from the sole of his foot, even to the crown of his head, whose hair did cleave to his most precious blood, being congealed and clodded together in hard-plotted Knots, and matted, as it were, with the cruel wounds, occasioned by that his sharp thorny crown, which they scornfully crowned him withal. And when he was to take his leave of his Mother, and 
A lesson for the forgiving of our enemies.  that his beloved Disciple, amongst other his last words that he uttered, as it were by way of his last request, and charge unto them, and in that his violent and extreme agony, which was then plucking up his soul by the roots from his divine body, he prayed unto his eternal Father, that he would pardon those that had thus persecuted him, and put him to this so shameful and painful a death.  
This mildness of our Saviour, was imitated by Saint Christopher: who, 
Saint Christopher his ●…wer to one that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 him.  when he had a sound box on the ear given him, call that to mind, which his Master had before received, told him that struck him; If I were not a Christian, I would be revenged on thee. So that revenge then, is a member put apart from the children of the Church our Mother.  
The like blow was given to Saint Bernard in the presence of his brethren; 
S. Bernard's saying, touching the suffering of i●…ies.  and they being very earnest to revenge this wrong done unto him, he ran in amongst them, telling them, It is not fit, that we should revenge the injuries done us by others, when as we do all day-long, kneeling humbly on our knees, crave pardon for our own offences.  
Saint Steven, when they were stoning him to death, doth not grieve for 
S. Steven prays for his persecutors.  those cruel blows, which bereave him of his life; but his sorrow was, to see that these bloody Ministers should lose their souls; and grieving for them, desires God, even then, when the pangs of death were upon him, that he would pardon his persecutors, and Saul especially; who being deceived, and zealous of his Law, thought to merit heaven by looking to the Cloaks and other clothes belonging to those that were the Executioners; to the end that having nothing to hinder their arms, they might, being rid of those lets, wound him with the greater force.  
And so fervent was his Prayer; that this glorious Apostle Saint Paul was afterwards reduced to the faith; who like a wise Doctor, well experienced in 
S. Paul teacheth us to forgive our enemies.  this doctrine, finding it to be so necessary a thing, and so much importing our salvation, as nothing more, gives us this good counsel: That we should forget and lay aside all anger; that we should not suffer the Sun to go down upon our wrath. Rather bless then curse your persecutors: Give them to eat, if they suffer hunger; and if they be a-thirst, give them drink: which if you shall not do, the same measure that you meet unto others, shall be meet unto you again: and as you forgive, so shall you be forgiven.  
The Apostle Saint james saith; Without mercy shall they be judged, that have no mercy: and the rigour of justice shall be returned on those that are 
S. james instructeth us to be merciful.  rigorous.  
Very fearful of the breach of this divine precept, was Constantine the Great; who, when one told him, how his enemies, to affront him, had in contempt 
Constantine the Great, & his great patience.  and scorn of him, thrown stones at his picture, wounding him with their strokes in the head and the face; so great was his modesty, that neglecting the injury, he began to touch & feel with his hands from place to place all the several parts of his body: Ask, when he had so done; What are become of these blows; where are those wounds you talk off? I feel none, nor have I any pain of all those thou tell'st me, they have done unto me. Giving thereby to understand, that there is no dishonour done to any, but to him that will esteem it so. Besides, he was willing thereby to infer, that whosoever does thee an injury, shall not scape scot-free, or go clear away with it, though thou do not revenge it; nay, though thou for thy part shouldst pardon the wrong that he hath done thee: For what injury he hath offered unto thee, he hath likewise offered the like unto God, whose, both thou and he art. Duenno tiene est a hazienda; these goods have an owner; And therefore you must not be your own carvers. For, if in a Prince's Palace, or a King's Court, any affront shall be done, it is likewise done unto the Lord thereof: nor shall the pardon of him that is affronted be sufficient absolutely to excuse the other, because by that indiscreet act of his, and inferred injury, are likewise injured the laws of that Prince, the good government of his house questioned, and his Kingdom scandalised thereby. And therefore God saith, Revenge 
God favoureth and defendeth the wronged.  belongeth unto me; and when I see my time, I shall punish the offender: Vengeance is mine, and mine own hands shall execute the same. Wretched then is that man, who is thus threatened; for if Gods own hands shall give him his chastisement, better had it been that he had never been borne. So that thou must never requite ill with ill, unless thou wilt that ill shall light upon thyself. Moreover, thou shalt merit much thereby, and thou shalt be thine own paymaster: for, by imitating him that commandeth thee, thou shalt be made like unto him. Give way therefore to the ire and fury of your persecutors, that you may merit God's favour: Thank him for these outrages and wrongs that are done you, and you shall in requital receive glory: and obtain eternal rest.— And there he rested.—  
I would fame have committed to memory that good doctrine which he delivered unto me to this purpose, that I might repeat it here unto you. For it was all heavenly stuff. Fine, most fine holy Scripture. From that time forward I unfeignedly propounded to myself to make true profit thereof. And if it be well considered, he spoke very home, and well unto me. What greater ●…uenge can there be, then that a man may be revenged if he will? 
Injury, how foul a thing it is.  Posse, nolle, nobile, is as true a saying as it is old: And what thing can be more foul than revenge, being that it is a passion of injustice? And such a one, as none is more odious in the sight both of God and Man? For it is only proper unto brute beasts. Revenge is but a kind of cowardice, and a certain 
Revenge, what it is.  Actus foeminilis, an effeminate Act, and womanish kind of weakness: Whereas the forgiving of a wrong, is a glorious kind of Victory. The revengeful man makes himself the Reus, when by pardoning, he might be made the Actor; that is, in stead of an Accuser, the Accused. What greater presumption can there be in the world, then that the creature should usurp the office of his Creator? appropriating that unto him, which is none of his; and going away (as we say) with another man's wealth, whereunto he hath no right in the world? If thou thyself art not thine own, nor in thine own 
Man hath nothing that is his, no 〈◊〉 so much as himself.  disposal; neither haste thou any thing of thine own in thee, that he, who (as thou sayst) hath offended thee, can take from thee. Such actions as these, thou canst not commence thyself, they belong unto thy Lord, which is God: Leave vengeance therefore unto him. God will take it of the wicked, tardiùs aut citiùs, at one time or another, early or late. And that cannot be termed too late, which is in a continual inclination to its end. And to take it out of his hands, is a heinous offence, a mighty misregard, and a contempt in the highest degree.  
But admit satisfaction should belong unto thee, and that the Law were in thine own hands; tell me, I pray thee, What thing can be more noble, then to do good? And what more good, than not to do ill? One only, which is this; To do good unto him, that doth ill unto thee, and doth persecute thee, as it is commanded us, which we are bound to obey. For, to repay ill with ill, is the Devil's office; to do good to him, that doth good unto thee, is a natural debt between man and man; nay, the wild beasts of the Forest do acknowledge as much, and do not wax furious against those, that do not seek to hurt them. But to procure and work that man's good, that would do thee a mischief, and cut thy throat, if it were in his power to do it; this is opus supernaturale, a work above the reach of nature: it is that divine Ladder, whereby we climb up by the rounds of Charity, to glorious Eternity; it is that key of the cross, which openeth the gates of Heaven: it is the souls sweet peace; and the bodies quiet rest. But revenge is a life without quietness; one calls upon another, and all unto death. Is not he a fool, nay, worse than a madman, who, if his doublet chance to wring him, will thrust his poniard into his own body? And what other thing is revenge, then to do ill unto ourselves, out of a desire to do ill unto others? And to pluck out both our own eyes, to put out one of our enemies? Or to spit against heaven, that it may presently fall again in our own faces? Seneca understood 
Seneca's saying touching e●…nge.  this doctrine wonderful well, when an enemy of his having given him a box of the ear in the Marketplace, and all that saw it, did incite him to complain thereof unto the justice; he smiling upon them, said unto them, Were it not a foolish part in me (think you) to call a beast into the Court? As if he should have said, With that buffet, he like a beast did express his rage; and I like a man, did scorn and contemn this his brutish behaviour. Can there be any brutishness greater than to do ill? Or can there be any greatness like unto that, which shall despise the ill that is done him, and set light by it?  
The Duke of Orleans having formerly been injured by one, when he was 
The French Kings answer.  afterward King of France, he was put in mind, that he might now be revenged of the wrong he then received: for now it was in his power to do it. But he, looking sourly on him that did so advise him, told him; it was not fit, that the King of France, should revenge the wrongs of the Duke of Orleans. If, for a man to conquer himself, be counted so great a Victory; 
Fortior, qui se, quam qui fortissima vincit moenia.  Why, by subduing our appetites, allaying our anger, and rebating our rancour; do not we gain unto ourselves this glorious Palm? Since that, (besides that which is promised unto us in the future) even in this life also, we shall avoid many mischiefs, which may either take away our life from us, or rob us of this our vain honour, and consume our wealth. O good God, had I been a good Lad, that which I heard from that good man, I might have been the better for it all the days of my life. But I was young, and past it quickly over; that treasure was ill bestowed upon me, I lost it; it was corn that fell in the highway, it did not thrive with me. His good conversation and doctrine entertained us to Cantillana, whither we came about Sunset: I with a good desire to my Supper, and my Companion with an earnest expectation to have his, but that never came. The two Clergy men made their rank apart, and went to a friends house that they were acquainted withal in the Town, and we to our Inn.   

CHAP. V.  
How Guzman and the Carrier did eat of a young Mule, thinking it had been Veal, being cozened by his Host in Cantillana, and discourseth by the way of the cozening tricks, which ●…ad Hosts put upon poor Travellers.  
WHen the Company, that came along with us, had left us, and were gone every man his way; I asked my Comrade, Whither shall we go now? He told me. Here's an honest Host hard by, one of my old acquaintance, a goodfellow, where we shall be well lodged, fare daintily, and kindly entertained. Well, along we trudge together, till we came to this his so much commended Inn, having brought me (as you shall hear hereafter) to one of the veriest thieves, and arrantest knaves, that there was not such another in all that part of the Country wherein he lived.  
here new occasion of matter was offered, fresh plates set upon the board, and such provision, as you may therewith well entertain the time. Was I not (think you) in fine taking when I leapt out of the Frying-pan into the fire; and fell into Scylla, seeking to shun Charybdis? Our Host had for his own use a good strong Ass, and a Galitian Mare, that was a pretty little Tit. And because men in their necessity, do not stand upon beauty, youth, nor pomp of apparel; but content themselves only with Nightcaps, when their heads are mangy and scabbed; it is no marvel, if the like should happen even amongst brute beasts. They were always fellow-feeders in one Stable, one Rack, and one Field; and he that was owner of them, took no great heed to have them tied fast, but let them go loose of purpose to the end, that they might help the other Beasts in the Inn in the repeating of their lessons. Whereby it came to pass that this Mare grew great with Foal, by living at large amongst this good company.  
It is an inviolable law in Andaluzia, That no such Conjunction, or Commixture 
A Law in Andaluzia against the ●…aturall covering in horses.  be permitted; and to this end, grievous penalties are ordained. This Mare then, having in her due time foaled a pretty young Mule, mine Host was willing to make profit thereof, and to that end nourished and bred it up. He kept this business very secret some certain days, and was wonderful careful, that it might not come to light: but because he saw it was not possible for him to hide this matter long, and to keep it from the knowledge of the world, that he might not give his enemy's advantage of revenge; carried away partly with the fear of his own hurt, and partly with the greediness of gain, he resolved (this last Friday night) to kill him. He cuts me out the flesh of it into pieces, which he powders up in a pickle made of purpose, and made ready against the next day, (being Saturday) for his Guests: parts minutiores huius animalis, ut pedes, ilia, venture, etc. all the entrails and offals of 
These things are commonly eaten in Spain upon saturdays, by a custom received amongst them.  this beast; as feet, tripes, the cragge-end of the neck, tongue, brain, and the like. We (as I told you) came to our Inn in a very good hour: for he that travails, takes contentment upon the way, that he may come into his Inn betimes, that he may have meat to fill his empty guts, and a bed to rest his weary bones.  
My Companion, as soon as he had alighted and taken off his lading, and put up all things safe, sets up his Asses in the Stable, taking order for their dressing and their feeding. But I came thither so wearied, that I was not able when I lighted, to stand upon my legs, but was fain to lie down on the 
Uneasy riding causeth weariness.  ground, and was not able for a great while to turn myself any way in the world. For all my muscles and sinews were quite benumbed, my legs and feet swollen, with their long hanging down for lack of Stirrups, my breech extremely galled, my parts nearer my privities full of pain, as if so many needles had been stuck in my Groin; my body was all out of joint; but of all other parts, my belly (for pure hunger) did most pitifully complain.  
Now when my Companion had ordered his beasts of burden, and had eased them of their carriages, and had done all things fitting for one of his profession, my turn was next to be served, and therefore said unto him; How now (my Comrade) what think you of the motion? Is it not high-time (think you) to go to Supper? He answered, It was; the motion he told me, was very good, and that it was high time indeed: for he meant to be stirring very early the next morning, and to reach betimes to Caçalla, and so to lad, and away. We asked our Host, if he had any thing in the house for our supper? He answered, He had; adding withal, that we should far very daintily. He was a burly-kind of man, yet of a stirring metal, nimble-witted, cheerful both in his speech and countenance, an eternal talker, but above all a 
What a manner of creature our Host was.  most excellent Villain. His promising person (I confess) did deceive me: for, seeing so good a presence, and not having known him before, the Spot at first sight, made show of a good Card. And hearing him say, that he could feast us bravely, my very heart and soul did leap for joy within me: Oh, they were comfortable words! Whereupon, I began with myself to give thanks unto God, reverencing his holy Name, for that after our troubles he gives us ease; after sickness, health; after a storm, a calm; after sorrow, joy; and a good Supper, after a bad dinner.  
I know not, whether I may well tell you or no, of a toung-errour, but a witty one, which came from a plain country-fellow, whom I knew in Olias, being a certain Village belonging to Tol●…do? yet I shall make bold to tell it you, as well for that the thing in itself is not scandalous, as also for that it proceeded from the sincere heart of an 
Old Christians in Spain are counted the best, by way of difference from the Moors, whom they call new Christians, as being but lately co●…rted. A 〈◊〉 of a country fellow.  old Christian.  
There were certain good fellows playing at Primera, and the third having discarded, the second cried, I am Prime; God be thanked yet at last, that I have got one game since I played, said he, that had the Prime. The other Country-fellow that was in the interim drawing his Cards, when he had pulled them, found them to be all of one lineage, and being glad that he had got the hand of him, suddenly broke soorth at that very instant, and said; Not so much God be thanked neither, as you think for; for I am Flush. If such a disparate, or idle toy as this, being not purposely spoken with either due measure, or to any certain end, but by mere chance, as it were, may be brought upon the Stage; this is its proper place, and the Scene well laid here, considering what befell us. It's very well, (said my Companion) to mine Host; Now and thou be'st a good fellow, tell me, I pray thee, what dainty morsel hast thou provided for us? This 
b Socarron; el vellaco dissimulado, que solo pretend su interes, y quando habla con vos, os està secretamente abrasando.  Socarron, this dissembling Rascal, that was all for his commodity, & cared not (so as he might get by him) whom he cozened, told him; Yesterday I killed a very delicate fine young Calf; which, because the Dam thereof was very weak; and by reason, (through the dryness of the year) that he wanted feeding, he caused this Calf to be killed after it was some eight days old. The offals; and the entrails are ready dressed, take what you please. After this, crying out Presto, be gone, lifting up his legs, and fetching a friscall or two, he flies away in the air in a trice, clapping his heels with his hands as he runs along. With this, my heart began to be somewhat lighter than it was before, and it did rejoice me much to hear him say, that he had the Calf's entrails; the very naming whereof, did make my Bowels to move within me. And now taking leave of my former weariness, looking cheerily upon him, I said unto him; Mine Host, bring us what you think good.  
Thereupon, the Cloth was laid in the turning of an hand, our Linen was clean; and our bread was not so bad as before, but our wine was passing good: we had also a fresh Salad set upon the Board in a fair Plate; but for such washie Tripes as mine than were, I held it no good meat. And had it been spared by me, either for any of the entrails, or any one foot of a Calf, it would never have grieved me. But these premises might deceive any discreet judgement whatsoever, making the taste of an hungry appetite drunken with the very conceit of his promised fare. The Italian, by way of advice, gives us this good lesson; That in the promises of Women, Mariners, and Innkeepers, we should place small confidence: for they that are given to commend themselves, and their own things, (as all these usually do) they do all (guessing the whole by the greater part) generally lie. After he had set down the Salad, he brings us in two little Plates, in each of which lay a little of this same Calues-plucke, I say, a little; for he was afraid to give us too much▪ lest through too much plenty, hunger being satisfied, and the belly glutted, we might more easily come to the knowledge of this deceit of his.  
Leading us thus lay surely along, we follow the sent we first ran upon, and it seemed to our taste, that we still did eat, according to that conceit, which we had entertained of this our supposed tender Veal; and the more we thought thereon, the greater edge was set upon our appetite; and as we had a longing desire thereunto, so by degrees we were still calling for the same hand again. For my Companion, there was no care to be taken for him, all meats were alike to him; for he was borne amongst Savage people, and bred 
The defect which is in Country people in their seeding.  up by brutish Parents, whose palate was seasoned from the cradle with a clove of Garlic; and your rude rustical Clowns, (as a thing not belonging to their either goodness or cleanliness) in matter of taste can seldom distinguish ill from good. To most of them, there is a want of perfection in their Senses; and albeit they see, yet do they not see that, which they ought to see: and though they hear, yet do they not hear that which they ought to hear: and so in the rest; but more particularly in the tongue, which was not given them to murmur against any man, much less against those, that are gentle and noble, as well in their disposition, as their descent. But these kinds of un-nurtured people are like unto Dogs, who snatch and snap at every thing, swallowing all that comes in the compass of their chaps, without chewing: or like unto the Ostrich, that will devour a horse-shoe, though it be never so red hot. And if a double-soled shoe, which had done service three Winters in Madrid, treading thorough thick and thin; lodo y mierda, dirt and turds had been set before such a fellow as this, he would have made no bones of it, nor found no difference in the going down of it. But that I, who was daintily brought up, and borne of civil parents, and such as were neat and curious in their diet, that I should not find out this deceit, my hunger must needs be great; and this must excuse my error. The desire that I had to eat something that was good, was exceeding great, so that every thing seemed too little to feed mine eyes. This cunning Rogue, mine Host, gave it us by way of distillation, Limbecke-fashion, now a little, and then a little: and therefore 
The Hosts craft.  it is no such wonder, had it had far greater defects, that it should seem unto me a well-ordered Banquet.  
Have you not heard it said, Que à la hambre, no ay mal pan? That all bread is savoury to the hungry? I say, all seemed to me to be Suckets, and Marmalate; and me thought I should never have enough to fill my belly. I demanded, if he had any thing else: He told me, we might (if we would) have the brains fried, with some butter and eggs. We told him, we would: but we are slower in telling him so, than he in going about it; nay, almost in the dressing of it. In the mean while, lest we might not catch cold with standing still, like your Poste-horses when they have run their stage; he gave us to entertain the time withal, a piece of flesh folded and rolled up, made out of the Tripes, (after the fashion of your roasted Olives of Veal) together with some of the Film and rind of the belly. I did not like the taste of it half well; it smelled (me thought) like rotten straw that's thrown out upon the dunghill. Whereupon I thrust it from me, leaving it to my Companion, who entered roundly upon it, devouring it as greedily, as a man would grapes, coming into a Vineyard in the time of Vintage. Nor did it grieve me awhit to see him fall to it so lustily, but was rather very glad of it, thinking by this means, that when he had been full-fed therewith, a greater part of the brains would fall to my share. But it fell out contrary to my expectation; for he had never awhit the more cloyed his paunch, nor did he cease to lay about him with as good a stomach, as if he had not all the day, nor night before, eaten so much as one morsel of bread.  
The eggs and the brains were set upon the Board; and when my honest Carrier saw this fine Froyze, he began, according to his old wont, to laugh out aloud, with as wide a throat, as you can imagine. I did fret, and fume, and chafe with myself out of all cry, conceiting with myself, that he made himself merry with my misery, and took delight, to represent to my remembrance 
A guilty Conscience is ●…uermore suspicious, and full of fear.  those former loathsome things, that had lately overthrown my stomach.  
Our Host thereupon looking very soberly on us both, with a watchful eye observing our behaviour, and with an itching ear, listening to hear what we said; seeing his dis-composed laughter so ill seasoned, and un-occasioned, (as he thought) was much moved thereat; fearing, that he had found out his Knavery: for until then, there was not any matter offered, that might move occasion of laughter. And therefore he was jealous, that the Fox was now un-earthed, and this must needs be it. And because a guilty person carries his 
a Traer la barba sober el ombro: Vivir recatado, y con recelo, como hazen los que tienen enemigos, que van bolviendo el rostro à un lado, y all otro, de donde naçio el refran.  Beard evermore upon his shoulder; & umbrae suae imagine concutitur, and is afraid of his own shadow; because his own conscience doth accuse him; and the committed fault, represents the deserved punishment: Every the least act, or inkling of any thing whatsoever, he imagineth, that it is all meant against him; and that the very air doth whistle forth his offence, and publisheth it to all the world.  
This poor Rogue, (albeit a very villain) hardened in roguery, and habituated in mischief, and being steeped, and lain long in soak, (as it were) in thefts, and all kinds of coozenages, was now out of heart, and grew silly and weake-spirited, and was ready to quake for fear. Besides, such kind of men are commonly Cowards, and have only an outside of men, but no manhood at all. Why is it (think you) that some men hack and hew, and threaten to kill and slay, and like Tigers lay about them? I will tell you the reason of it. They do this, not out of true metal, but to make others afraid, and to supply by this roaring carriage; the defect of their courage: being like herein, unto dogs; whereof, those that are barkers, are the least biters: they are like your little 
a Meliteos si dizen, porque se ●…hian de Malta.  Melitean dogs, or a kind of foysting-Hounds, which are made all of noise and barking; but if you turn towards them, they clap their tail between their legs, and run away. Our Host was (as I have told you) much troubled; for fear, suspicion, and jealousy, is a property, that is still incident to an evil liver. He had quite lost his stirrups, nor did he know how or which way to recover his seat; but began to swear with many great and horrible oaths that it was very good Veal that he had set before us, and that we had no just cause, nor reason to laugh as we did; and if need were, I could bring you an hundred witnesses to testify as much.  
These words he uttered with much passion; with a face as red as fire, that the blood seemed to trickle down his cheeks, and sparkles to flash for very anger forth his eyes. The Carrier lifting up his head and looking earnestly upon him, told him; Who medles with you, (my friend) what wrong have we done you, that you are so choleric? We do not touch upon you, no not so much as to ask you how you do, or how 
b A Metaphor borrowea from women, who cannot ab●…ae to be 〈◊〉, how old they are.  old you are? Have you any 
c The Spanish word is Aranzel, which is a Decree, or Law, which sets a tax upon such things as are sold. Tabula est, ubi scribitur ordo & pretium rerum venalium. derived of a. articulo arabico, and rancel, que vale tanto, como decreto, determinçion, assiento. The Spaniards fashion of wondering.  Edict, or Proclamation here in the house, that doth set a tax or rate upon laughing; or to what proportion and quantity your guests shall be tied to laugh, if at any time he be so disposed, upon pain of some great forfeit? or is this a general sessing set thereupon, and you alone have got the Monopoly thereof into your hands? If it be so, good mine Host, let every man weep, or laugh, as he will himself; and take that a Gods-name which is your due, and recover your right of us by order of Law. I tell you, Sir, you are mistaken in me; for I am of that free disposition, that if I were minded to laugh at any thing of yours, I am not so meal-mouthed, but I would plainly tell you at what I laughed.  
These eggs now put me in mind of those other, which my Companion here did eat to day at an Inn some three Leagues hence. Then he up and told all that had passed, as myself before had delivered unto him; and that which happened afterwards in his presence, betwixt the old Hostess, and my two young Soldiers; in the relating whereof, he seemed as if he had been bathing himself all the while in Rose-water, if a man might judge the content he took in repeating the same, by his passions, his loud laughters, strange visages, antic gestures, and the diversities of postures, in the bowing and writhing of his body, all the while that he was telling him this tale. Mine Host, he fell as fast a blessing and crossing himself, pouring out Volleys of Exclamations, calling upon, and often reiterating the name of jesus, a thousand times one after another, and lifting up his eyes unto heaven said; Our blessed Lady be my helper; let her still be present with me! Mal haga Dios, à quién mal haze su Oficio, let ill betide him, that performs his function ill. And because in his Theeveries and his Rogueries he was so good a Proficient, he might rest assured, that this malediction did not belong to him, so well had he exercised that trade all his life-time. He began afterwards to walk up and down, & seeming sometimes to wonder, sometimes to complain, at last he cried out; I wonder a-gods name, that the earth did not open, and swallow up this Inn? How is it possible, that God should dissemble his anger, 
Mine Host by railing on the old Hostess, discovers the k●…auery of 〈◊〉 ●…pers.  and forbear to punish so vile a woman? Does this old Witch live? is she not gone down quick to hell? All Travellers have just cause to complain of her; I now see, that all men have reason to complain of her ill usage; no man comes away contented from her; all find fault, not one that comes thence well satisfied, but are sorry that ever they came within her doors. Either all her guests are very bad, or she herself: but it is not to be imagined so many can be all bad; and therefore sure the fault is only hers.  
For these, and other the like tricks, no passenger will stay to bait at her Inn, they have all set a cross upon her door, they bless themselves when they go by, and make large strides till they be passed that wicked house. I swear unto you, she should be sound whipped, if she were well served, that all other cozening queans, such as she is, might take example by her. Her Sign was once pulled down, and order taken, that she should not keep victualling any more. And I much wonder, that she turning again to the old bias, the officers return not again to punish her anew.  
There is something in it, as the Ant said, but what it is I cannot tell you, that makes her to do as she does. There must be some mystery in it, what ever it be: for she robs and cousins with the like liberty to day, as she did yesterday; and now, as last year: And (which is worst of all) she cousins with that confidence, as if she were commanded so to do. And sure it must needs be so; for the Guards, the Searchers, the Promoters, and the Alguazils, all see her dealings, and know them well enough; yet they wink at them, and say not so much as black is her eye. These I warrant you be her feed men, she gives them good content, and greazes them in the fist with that, which she filches from others. For if it were not so, as sure as the coat is on your back, they would have another fling at her, and pay her home again with a pox in her own kind.  
Howbeit (wretched woman as she is) it is punishment enough unto her, that she lived so long, as to discredit her house. For if she had kept good meat in her house, and used her guests well, behaving herself civilly, and demanding reasonable reckonings, her custom would have been good, and all Travellers would have flocked unto her house. And you know, De muchos pocos hiziera mucho; Many a little, makes a much. For, by carrying but one grain of corn away with him at once, the Ant fills his granary, and lives in store and plenty all the year long. And had she done so, the proudest Officer of them all, could not have set his foot upon her neck, and tear her ungodly gains out of her throat. But shame light upon her, and all such as she is. The Devil take such unconscionable Innkeepers.  
When he had come thus far and made his full point, I thought he would there have left. But he comes about again, giving us this close for a farewell: Blessed be that unspotted purity of the Virgin Mary, that though I am but a poor man; yet I thank God for it, there is no such ill usage in my house, no such deceitful tricks; Every thing is here sold for the thing it is: no Cats, for Coneys; nor Mutton, for Veal. Limpieza de vida, es lo que importé, a clear conscience, is that, which will carry a man through thick and thin. He may go bare-faced through the world, and never be ashamed, that hath led an innocent life. Let every man enjoy that which is his own, and not defraud and deceive one another.  
here he stopped, and took in fresh breath, which was no more than needed, considering how fast his tongue walked: And though happily he might think, that we might the more willingly give him the hearing now that we had supped; yet he here cuts off the thread of his Discourse, and says no more, giving us in stead of our second Course, two or three Olives, as big as Nuts. We entreated him that against the next morning we might have a morsel of his Veal made ready for us. He undertook that care, and we went to take our rest. Our bolsters, were our packsaddles; and our bedding the clothes that covered our Packs, which we stretch out as plain as we could upon the bare Floor: and so we passed over that night, as well as we could.   

CHAPTER VI.  
Guzman goes on, in recounting what succeeded with his Host of Cantillana, who had given him to eat of his young Mule, and of the misfortunes that befell the said Guzman: And how it is not good upon the way to quarrel with our Host.  
HAd I, the Sunday morning following, when it was day, been 
Guzman is extremely bitten by Fleas.  set in the Marketplace in seville, or at my mothers own door: I am doubtful, whether they would have known me or no. For I was monstrously Flea-bitten by that infinite number of Fleas, which had fed that night on my carcase, that it seemed they likewise endured a dear year, and that I was offered up unto them for a prey. And so in the morning I got me up, looking for all the world, like one that had been sick of the small Pox, or infected with the Meazels; my face and hands, and all my whole body over, not having one free place, or one spot of white, no, not so much as you might put a pin's point between; so miserably was I tormented with them.  
But fortune was herein so favourable unto me, that what with the weariness 
Drinking freely, what it effecteth.  of the journey, and taking a cup or two overnight more than ordinary, I slept sound, dreaming heavenly dreams, no noise hindering my quiet rest; till that my Companion, whose mind ran upon hearing Mass betimes in the morning, and of his seven Leagues which he had farther to go, did awaken me.  
We rise by the break of day, before the Sun was up. And calling presently for our breakfast, it was brought us in; but it did not like me so well, as it did my fellow: for every morsel, that went down his throat, seemed to him, as if he had swallowed so many bits of the brawn of some young tender Peacocks, and he did so much commend the goodness of it, as if all the world could not afford a daintier dish. And I was forced so to esteem of it, by laying my faith upon another man's taste, attributing that defect to mine own bad palate, which this hungry hound had inherited from the Ass his father. But, to speak the plain truth, it was stark naught, and as vile meat as a man could eat, and did not stick to speak itself unto me in a known language.  
To me it seemed tough, and unsavoury, and of that little which I did eat overnight at supper, my stomach was so sur-charged with it, lying as heavy within me as Led, that I was not able for my life to digest it. And albeit I was somewhat fearful, lest my fellow should find fault with me, yet did I not stick to say unto mine Host; How comes this flesh to be so tough, and of that evil relish, that a man can scarce fasten upon it with his teeth? He told me; Do not you see, Sir, that it is flesh that hath been newly killed, and wants time for the mortifying and making of it tender? Hereupon, my Companion taking his Q: It is not (quoth he) any lack of mortifying, or hanging in the air; or that it does not eat tender and short enough, that makes this Gentleman to be so squeamish: but because he hath been fed from his cradle with spice-Buns, Sugar-Cakes, and fresh Eggs, all other meats save these, are hard both to his teeth and stomach. I shrunk up my shoulders, and held my peace, as one that knew full well, that I was now as it were in another kind of world, and that it was but one days patience more, and then I should be out of danger of understanding such kind of language any longer.  
But for all this, I could not here-with rest contented, but still me thought this meat had an ill smatch with it, of I know not what.  
And as I was thinking thereon, it presently came in my mind what unnecessary oaths mine Host made the night before, when he vowed and swore it was Veal.  
This swearing and staring of his, I did not like half well, and did therefore think, he did the rather lie, because he did so deeply swear: for the truth hath no need of the confirmation of an Oath, unless it be in open Court before a judge, or in case of great necessity. Besides, all such satisfaction, 
Qui saepè iurat, saepè per●…urat.  as offers itself by way of prevention, before the thing delivered, is questioned, or called into doubt, makes the faith of the reporter to be evermore suspected. I knew not what did ail me, or what might be the cause of this; for although I did not really conceive any assured ill, I did as little presume, that there could be any good meaning herein. It was only a touch of my imagination, a strange apprehension, that I had in my head at that time: Whereupon I did not long dwell, nor made any great reckoning of it. So passing it over, I called for a reckoning, my Companion told me, I should let my purse alone, for he would pay for us both. Whereupon I went aside, leaving him to be the Paymaster: thinking with myself, that out of courtesy, and this our new acquaintance, he was not willing, that I should pay my share of so small a shot.  
I was very thankful to him in my heart for this his kindness, and was not wanting to sing forth his praises, for this his freeness and love, which he had shown unto me, ever since that he met me upon the way, giving me my horse-hyre, and my diet gratis; not suffering me to spend one penny in his company.  
I thought with myself, this world would still hold, and that wheresoever I went, I should meet with some one or other that would bear my charges, and let me ride for nothing. I had now taken heart unto me, and began to be prettily well fleshed, and to forget my mother's teat, as if it had been anointed with Aloes, Wormwood, or the like bitter stuff, and so in all other things did I do the like, whereunto I had been formerly accustomed. And because it should not be said of me, Que delos ingratos estava lleno el infierno; That hell is full of ungrateful persons: While he was paying the shot, I was 
He that receives a courtesy, ever aught to show his readiness to do that man service from whom it comes.  willing to show some part of my thankfulness, by leading out his Asses to drink, and carrying them back again to their cratches, to the end, that while they were saddling and making all things ready, they might champ upon their straw, and make an end of their provender. I put a helping hand to all that was needful, rubbing their foreheads and their ears, as well as I was able.  
Whilst I was busied in this, I had laid my Cloak upon a bench hard by, which like Quicksilver, before the fire, or smoke before the wind, was vanished away in an instant, that I could never set eye on it any more; nor could devose in the world, what should become of it. I thought with myself, that either mine Host or my Consort, had, to make themselves merry therewith, hid it from me in jest. But it was now no more a jesting matter, for they began to swear in good earnest that they had it not, nor knew what was become of it; I made diligent search for it even to the very gate which was shut, and had not yet been opened. There was no body there in the house but our selves, and mine Host, and therefore me thought it was impossible, that it should be lost, and that I might peradventure forget myself; and have put it apart in some other place. Hereupon, I sought up and down all the house; and going out of the Hall into the Kitchen, it was my hap to come into a back-Court, where I found a great plash of fresh blood, and hard by it a Mules skin, fairly stretched out to its full breadth and length, from the which the feet were not yet cut off; The ears were there at large, and all that part of the head towards the forehead, near whereunto were those other bones belonging to the head, only the tongue, and the brains were wanting: Which I no sooner perceived, but I was presently confirmed in my doubt.  
Hereupon I straight go forth to call in my Companion; To whom, when I had made show of the Hide, that had bound in our breakfast and our supper, I then said unto him; What think you now, Sir? Are not those things (trow you) Sugar-cakes, and new-laid Eggs, in comparison of these that we eat at home? This is that Veal, forsooth, which you so extolled to the skies; and this the Host, you promised should provide us such dainty cheer.  
What think you of the supper now, and the breakfast which he hath bestowed upon us? Hath he not dealt well with us I pray? have we not been excellently well used? He (good man) is none of these cozening Hosts, and cheating Innkeepers, that will sell a Cat for a Coney; and put away Mutton, for Veal. This is that innocent man, that may go unmasked throughout the world, and care not who sees him, and looks him in the face, he is so honest a man. This is that integer vitae, scelerisque purus, so unspotted in his life and conscience, and so free from all ill dealing, that out of his own integrity, made no bones to curse our Hostess, and the evil usage of her Guests.  
He was strooken so dump, and so full of wonder, to see what I had showed him, that he had not a word to say; but with his head cast down into his bosom, went slinking away from me, and was so amazed at this strange sight, that all the day after till we parted company, I could not get from him so much as a word, save what past at our parting when we were to take our leave each of other. And that which then came from him, seemed to be drawn out of the very guts of him, as you shall hear anon.  
Howbeit, I was not (as every man may imagine) very well pleased with this unhappy accident; yet notwithstanding, (that this his flood of laughter might by this means be dammed up, or the current thereof turned another way, wherewith every moment before, my very heart and soul was overflown, and in a manner, quite drowned.) I was wonderfully over-ioyed with this my misfortune, which did so much the less grieve me, because he had so great a share in it.  
What with this (which was vantage enough) and the strong belief that I had that no man but mine Host could possibly convey away my Cloak, I began somewhat more boldly to charge him with it; It being ever incident to a good cause, to put strength into weakness; and to add courage to the 
He that hath right, hath courage.  faint-hearted I began to put it home to him, and told him plainly that he should answer me my Cloak, and that he had stolen it: But he very scornfully denies it, i●…ering and fleering at me; and the more earnest I was, the more merry he makes himself. Wherewith my patience was so much moved, that I could not hold, but threatened him (in my choler) with the justice; yet did I not touch at all on this new business, nor spoke one word to him of that which I had seen. But he, for that I was a young Lad, a poor Boy, and no body to take my part, began to domineer over me, telling me, that he had a rod for me in his pocket, and other the like reproachful words, terms only befitting Cowards, and men of base condition, such as himself. But because worms will turn again, if they be trod on, and the gentlest Lambs grow mad, if they be too much wronged, upon multiplying of words one begetting another; and the latter worse than the former, at last we fell foul. And as the fewness of my years, and weakness of my strength would give me leave, I tore out half a brick-bat from the side of a Bench there-by, and threw it at him as hard as ever I could drive; which, if I had hit him withal, and that he had not hid himself behind a pillar, I think I had beaten out his brains, and been fully revenged of the wrong he did me. But he scap't my hands, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him into his chamber; whence he came forth in all haste with his sword drawn in his hand.  
Here you may see, what manner of men these roaring-boys be, since that 
He that is faulty 〈◊〉 coward.  this great Gull doth not now seek to defend himself with the force of his strong and brawny arms, against those weak and tender twigs of mine; forgetting, that he said, he would whip me, seeking now to offend me by force of arms, I being but a grissle, and a poor simple dis-armed chicken. In this manner then, he makes towards me with his naked sword; whilst I fearing what might follow, stood upon my guard with two pebble-stones, which I had plucked out of the pavement. Which when he saw I had now ready in my hand, his courage began to be abated, and did not dare to draw nearer unto me.  
Now with the noise and out-cries that were made upon this occasion, the whole Inn was in an uproar; and all the neighbours thereabouts, hearing the stir, came flocking in upon us, to see what the matter was. All the whole street hasted thither, and with them a great throng of people, as well justices, as Notaries. There came in two Alcaldes, both at the same instant, and each of them strove to have the hearing of the cause, labouring to prevent each other. And the Notaries for their private gain, every one said, that this business did belong unto him; whereupon they grew at difference and odds between themselves.  
Upon this contention, grew a second quarrel, no less fierce and tumultuous, then was ours: for on both sides, they digged up their Grandfather's graves, twitting one another in the teeth with their fathers and their mothers, not sparing one another's wives, ripping up their faults, and the course of life that they led; wherein perhaps they did not lie: But they would no more understand one another, than did we. Whilst we were in this hurly-burly, come in certain Regidores, accompanied with other worshipful Burgomasters of the Town, who laboured to make peace between them, and laid hold on me. Que siempre quebra la soga, por lo mas delgado: for the weakest must still go to the wall: and the Skein there breaketh soon, where the thread is finest. The stranger, the poor soul, the miserable man, he that has no shelter, no friends to stick unto him; no great Ones to favour him, he that is deprived of all succour and comfort, and hath no body to defend him, he is the man, whom the justice doth first take in hand.  
They would needs know, what this stir was, and whence it grew. They called me aside, and took my confession: I plainly told them all that had passed; but because some that were thereby, might chance to overhear me, I went apart with the Alcaldes, and told them in secret, that which I knew concerning the Machuelo, or little young Mule. They were first of all desirous to approve and verify the cause; but it seeming unto them, that they had time enough to dispatch all, they used diligence for the apprehending of mine Host; who was careless of any ill that might come unto him for that offence. And persuading himself, that all this inquiry was only about the Cloak, made but a jest of it, and laughed at it as a thing of nothing, and could no way touch him, for default of Information, and those due proofs that I was to make, having no man, besides the Carrier, to witness for me, that I was seen to come in thither with a Cloak.  
But afterwards perceiving, that by little and little, this piece of hangings came to be seen, to wit, the skin, and the rest of the appurtenances, the copy of my Gentleman's countenance was quickly altered, and began suddenly to look blank upon the matter: so that, when they began to examine him, and had withal before his face showed him the skin; confessing the fact, he was convicted, not having the heart to deny any thing, but told them the truth of all that had past.  
For it is an assured truth, that base-minded men, infamous in their life, and ill-conditioned in their carriage and manners, are (as I said before) rank cowards, and of no courage in the world. For, without having the torment given him, or before ever that he was threatened with the Rack; undemanded, he declared the Thefts, and the Rogueries that he had done, as well in that his Inn, as his robbing upon the highway, when he was a shepherd: whereby he got him a Stock, to set up for himself in the world. I all this while listened very close; looking still when his confession should bring my cloak to light; but out of the malice and hatred that he bore unto me, that was quite left out. I used my best diligence I could, to make it appear, but all would not serve the turn. After they had made an end of taking our declarations, I mean, the Carriers and mine, because we were strangers, they did in that particular ratify and approve what we had deposed. And whilst this Plea was depending, whether or no (till it were determined) they should carry me to prison, and keep me there (tras patient, aporreado (as they say) I must have the wrong, & be beaten too,) there were diverse disputes thereupon. The Notaries were very glad of this, & they did pretend I should: but one of the Alcaldes stood up and said, That I had reason on my side, and was in no fault at all: and that they had no reason to question me any farther; for it was punishment enough already for me, and too much too, that I was left thus naked in my hose and doublet, and was cozened of my cloak. Hereupon, they let me go, but mine Host, he was led away to prison. And leaving him there, we prepare for our journey; and all things being made ready, we begin to set forward, passing along that street, where the Clergymen stood looking for us, each of them took his Ass, and away we go. By the way I told them the whole success of the business: they blest themselves, when they heard of it, and much pitied my case. But because they could not help it, they committed it to God. Myself and my Companion, what with the long time that was spent in this broil, and the haste we had to be gone, we went away without hearing Mass; seeming rather to fly, then go forth of the Town. I (for my part) never missed Mass before, being accustomed all my life-time to that daily exercise of devotion. From that time forward, it entered into my 
He that leaves God, God will leave him.  head, That from so bad a beginning, it was impossible to look for a good ending. And that now, nothing could succeed well and happily unto me. And so it fell out, as you shall hear hereafter. Nor can it be otherwise expected, when we serve ourselves, and not God first; and not begin with him, before we begin our business.   

CHAP. VII.  
Man's misfortune is here discoursed of, and to that purpose you have a story told you of the gods of those ancienter times: And how Guzman, being thought to be a Thief, was apprehended; but afterwards being known what he was, he was set at liberty. One of the Clergymen promiseth to tell us a story, to entertain the time withal, upon the way.  
THe Egyptians, a great while ago, in those times of old being notable soothsayers, (as indeed they were) amongst 
The Egyptians adoted Fortune as a goddess.  many other errors, which they had, this was one amongst the rest, that they adored Fortune, as a Goddess; verily believing, that there was some such thing indeed. To her, they celebrated a Feast on the first day of the year, preparing sumptuous Tables, making great Feasts and costly Banquets, in a thankful acknowledgement of the forepassed year, and entreating her favour, for that which was to come. They were fully persuaded, that this Goddess was she, that had the disposal of all things, giving and taking away at her pleasure, as supreme Governess over all humane things. This they did, because they wanted the knowledge of one only true God, whom we adore and worship, by whose powerful hand, and divine will, heaven and earth are governed, and whatsoever is created in them both, be it visible, or invisible. It seemed somewhat strange unto them, and were touched therewith to the quick, when misfortunes began to light upon them; to see how one mischief came upon the neck of another; one no sooner passed, but another at the heels of them, not giving them one hour of ease and quiet, never making an end, till they had made an end of man, and quite overthrown him horse and foot: And how again at another time (like so many Cowards) they come trooping all at once upon us, and never leave assaulting us, till they have utterly ruined us, and thrown this our house of clay down to the ground.  
And on the contrary side again, the time doth not ascend with that nimbleness and quick motion to the top of the highest mountains, as Fortune doth elevate and lift men up by ways and means, neither seen, nor thought upon, never suffering them to continue still firm, either in the one, or t'other estate; to the end that he that is dejected, may not despair; and he that is exalted, may not presume. If the light of faith were wanting unto me, as it was unto them, I might (giving credit to this their error) happily say, when such like misfortunes should befall me; Bien veng as mal, si solo vienes. Welcome is that misfortune which comes alone: yesterday morning I did complain of little weariness, and of the two demy-Chickens that I had to dinner, going disguized in your Hermit's habit, as unwilling to be known. Afterwards, I came to make my supper upon the stinking paunch of a young Mule; and which was worse, to feed upon the flesh and brains thereof, which was all one in a manner, as if I should have devoured mine own flesh; I mean, by his 
a The S●…e of a Mule, is an Ass.  father's side; which may be every man's case, as well as mine. And for an upshot of all, the ill luck that I had at last, to be cozened of my Cloak. Poco danno espanta, y mucho amansa: little losses do only startses and amaze men at the first, but great ones do quell and daunt a man, making him as gentle as a Lamb.  
What treason hath been plotted against me? what squint-eyed Star hath scowled upon me? what misfortune followed me, since I came from home? For from the time, that I first put forth of doors, all things have gone amiss with me, one mischance being the forerunner of another, and the sad presager of worse things to come, which like a double Tertian went increasing upon me, every fit being worse and more violent, than the former, not allowing me the least intervallum of time, or any space or respite in the world to take any rest.  
Man's life is a warrefare upon earth, there is no certainty therein; no settled 
Man's life, what it is.  assurance, no estate that is permanent; no pleasure that is perfect; no content that is true; but all is counterfeit and vain. Wilt thou see, that this is true? Then harken to that which I shall tell thee.  
The great god jupiter (for so the Poets feign him) having created all things upon earth; and man to be the enjoyer of them, commanded the god Content, to reside in the world, not believing, nor preventing the ingratitude, which afterwards they fell into, following their own proper pleasures and delights, and bearing themselves in a high and proud fashion: for having this god continuing amongst them, they did not so much as think on any other. To him they did sacrifice, to him they offered their oblations, his name they celebrated with joy; and to him only did they sing Songs of praise and thanksgiving. jupiter scorning this contempt, and being mightily offended 
A moral Fable of the gods of old-time, and the Council that was held in heaven against Mankind.  with man for this strange neglect, called a Council of the gods; and when they were all assembled together, he made unto them a long Discourse, wherein he informed them, of the evil Correspondence which man held with him, for that they did only adore Content, as their true god; not considering the benefits which they had received from his prodigal hand, being merely his workmanship, and by him created of nothing. And that therefore they should deliver their Opinions, what order was to be taken, for the redressing of so foul an abuse; and what Medicines to be applied for the curing of this their madness.  
Some of the milder gods, out of their tender hearts, and merciful natures, spoke thus unto jupiter:  
Man, you know, is but a weak kind of creature, framed of a frail and brittle matter, a corruptible substance, soon dissolved and turned to nothing; and therefore we think it fit, that they should be holpen and held up by us, and that we should yield them our succour and assistance in all that we can: For, if it were possible, that we could exchange fortunes with them, and were in the same state and condition as they are, and every way equal with them, I doubt me, we should do just as they do. And therefore we are not to make any great reckoning of the matter: but if we do, and that they must be proceeded against, we for our parts are verily persuaded, that some mild and gentle correction will be a sufficient remedy for the present.  
Momus would fain have spoke his mind, and his tongue itched to be let loose, having already entered into some free language, and would have lashed out farther, had he not been commanded to hold his peace, and to forbear till it came to his turn, and then he should have a full hearing. He would gladly have taken hold on that occasion, to have incensed jupiter, because it did so fairly offer itself unto him: but obeying for the present, he meditated in the mean while on a long Oration, which he meant should make for his purpose, when it came to his turn to speak. Howbeit, there were not some wanting in the interim, of equal (almost) condition with himself, and of the same humour, who stood up and said:  
It is not fit (great god of Heaven) to leave so heinous a fault unpunished: for the offence is infinite, being committed against so infinite a Majesty; and therefore the punishment ought likewise to be infinite. Our opinion is, that they should be utterly destroyed, and made an end of at once, and never to have any more of them created anew; for there is no necessity at all of their being and living in the world, but may very well be spared. others would not agree to that motion, but did hold it fit, that great store of Thunderbolts, with fearful flashes of Lightning, should be thrown down upon them, and consume them all; and that others more good should be created anew.  
Thus as they were delivering their opinions, being more or less rigorous, according to their several qualities and complexions, till it came to Apollo's turn to speak, who craving leave of the House, and their favour obtained, in a grave voice, and with a cheerful countenance, he thus expressed himself:  
Supreme Scepter-swaying jupiter, highest amongst the gods, both in power, 
Apollo's speech in man's favour.  and in pity: That grievous accusation, wherewith thou chargest Man, is so just, that we can not gainsay, or contradict any vengeance, which thou shalt take of them. Yet withal, I can not (out of that great respect which I bear unto thee) but utter what I think, and plainly to show unto thee, what I have conceived in my mind, my words being as free from passion, as I hope they shall be from offence.  
If thou destroy the world, in vain then are those things, which thou hast therein created; and it were imperfection in thee, to un-make that, which thou hast already made; only for to mend that which thou now findest amiss: Much less, would I have thee to repent thyself that thou hast made Man; for that will be but to discredit thyself and thine own work. Besides, how can it stand with the power and goodness of a Creator, to take too strict a course against his Creature, and to exceed, by extraordinary means, in his chastisements?  
To destroy these that are now living, and to create others anew, I hold that not so fit to be done by thee. For thou must either give them, or not give them freewill: if thou give them it, they must necessarily then be such manner of men, as their forefathers were: If thou not give it them, they shall not be men: And so thou shalt have created in vain that so great and glorious a frame of Heaven, Earth, Stars, Moon, Sun, together with the composition of the Elements, and millions more of things, which thou hast made in so exact a manner, and such a singular perfection. So that (which importeth your service, if you will be pleased to take it into consideration) there remaineth but one thing to be done to set all right again, without seeking for any other remedy; or that you shall be driven to use any violent or rigorous proceeding against them, to the prejudice of your clemency.  
Thou (O jupiter) gav'st them the God Content, whom they were to have with them as long as it pleased thee, and no longer: for upon thy will and pleasure, all things both in Heaven and earth have their dependency. Now, had they been so wise, that they could have continued thankful towards thee, and have conserved themselves in justice and obedience towards thee, it had been a thing repugnant to the goodness of thy nature and justice, not to uphold and protect them, by enlarging thy favours towards them, and multiplying thy blessings upon them. But since they have dis-merited this by disobedience, thou oughtest in some sort to punish them. For it is not fit, that they should in tyrannous manner, & with a strong hand possess these so great blessings, to offend thee thereby: But thou oughtest rather to take this their god from them, and in his stead to send down his brother Discontent amongst them, who is very like in favour unto him, and doth resemble him so near, that a man can hardly discern the one from the other. And so by this means, they will ever hereafter come to acknowledge their own misery, and thy mercy; thy happy estate, and their own wretched condition; thy ease, and their trouble; their pain, and thy glory; thy power, and their own weakness. And then, as thou shalt see cause, thou mayst distribute thy favours to those that shall deserve them; and according to thy loving kindness recompense every man according to thine own good will and pleasure, not making thy benefits alike common to the good and the bad, by suffering all men equally to enjoy one and the same happiness. This course being taken with them, I am of opinion, that it will not only be a sufficient punishment unto them; but will also bring them to a due acknowledgement of their error. I have spoke my mind and shall now leave it unto thee (thou mercyimbracing jupiter) to do that herein which shall suit best with thine own good liking, and shall make most for thy service.  
With this brief advice, he ended his Oration. Then Momus, with his 
Momus man's ancient enemy.  venomous tongue, began to lay about him; labouring to exaggerate the offence, and to set it forth in its vilest colours, induced thereunto not so much for goodness sake, as that inueterated hatred which he evermore bare unto mankind. But notice being taken of his passion (which was a known disease in him) his opinion was reproved, and cried down by the general voice of that highest Court of Parliament: All commending the motion that was made by Apollo. The execution of whose speech was (with an unanimous 
Mercury, by order from love, desc●…nds on earth, and to what end.  consent) committed to Mercury: Who presently (spreading his wings, and breaking with them through the air) descended down upon the earth, where he found the men of this world with their god, Content, feeding and making merry together, doing him all the honour they could devose, being far from any the least thought, that this their god should (while the world endured) be alienated from their possession.  
Mercury came to this god, where he was; and having in secret delivered the Embassage unto him, sent from the gods above, was (though sore against his will) enforced to yield thereunto. The men were hereupon in an uproar, and sought to hinder it all they could, and began with might and main to interest themselves in the cause; and seeing that there was no remedy, but that this their god must be taken away from them, they strove to defend him with all the strength they could make; and taking strong hold of him, they tugged hard for him, as desirous to retain him still amongst them.  
jupiter perceiving how the world went, and what a coil they kept about him, came down amongst them, and whilst these men were busied in laying fast hold on his clothes, (using a pretty slight) he cunningly conveyed away Content from amidst his clothes, leaving them Discontent in his stead, with the same clothes, and the very same habit of raiment, wherewith Content was at that time apparelled, taking him from thence away with him to heaven. Wherewith the men that were in this broil were very well pleased (though thus deceived) thinking that they had prevailed in their purpose, and obtained what they desired, since they had their god still amongst them: But it was not so well with them, as they thought it to be.  
This error of those former times (the same deceit yet living still amongst them) hath continued even to this present age. Men did think that Content remained still with them, and that they had him sure enough here upon earth. But it is nothing so; for it is only the bare raiment, and outward shape and resemblance, which they enjoy with them; and Discontent, clapped into his clothes. And if thou believe otherwise, or conceivest the contrary, thou art wide of the truth, and a mere stranger thereunto. Wilt thou, that I make this plain unto thee? Mark well then what I shall say unto thee.  
Weigh and consider with thyself, in any kind of manner thou thyself shalt devose: the Feasts, the Sports, the Banquets, the Musics, all the delights and joys, and whatsoever else may most move thy inclination to the highest point of all, which thine own desire can suggest and paint forth unto thee to the life. If I shall ask thee by the way, Whither goest thou? Thou wilt answer me perhaps, and that very proudly: To such a feast of Content. I give it for granted, that there thou dost receive it, and that the place doth afford it thee; the Gardens being fresh and full of flowers; the Rivers plated with their siluer-streames, and that the Fountains distilling their drops of pearl, may much cheer and glad thy heart. I suppose that thou hast banketed thyself in sweet and pleasant Arbours, where neither the Sun did offend thee, nor the air annoy thee. And that thou didst enjoy thy desires to their full height, & that thou hadst all the sports & pastimes that a man could wish. Yet notwithstanding, there is no contentment so absolute in this world, which is not watered with some sorrow. And though in all these things thou hadst no distaste at all given thee; but hadst every thing according to thine own mind: yet when thou returnest home to thine own house; or layest thee down in thy bed to take thy rest it is not possible but thou shalt find thyself weary, dusty & sweaty, to have lost thy stomach, or taken cold, to grow heavy, melancholy, and sad; and peradventure become either mad, or dead. For amidst our greatest pleasures, happen the greatest misfortunes: And are usually wont to be unto us Vespers of fear, and of horror; and not Vespers, where the night passeth merrily away from the beginning to the middle, and from the middle to the end: for in the midst of this thy idolatry, all shall be taken from thee. Set not thy heart therefore upon them; but slight them, and let them go by, as if thou didst not know them: for there is no trust to be had in them.  
Now, by this time, (I doubt not) but thou wilt ingenuously confess, that this disguise did deceive thee, these clothes cousin thee, and this mask so blind thy eyesight; That whereas thou didst verily think, that thou hadst Content now safe enough in thy hands, thou hadst nothing more but his outward raiment; and in it, Discontent. Now dost thou see, how there is no Content upon the earth; and that our true Content is only in Heaven. And 
True content is in heaven.  therefore, till thou meet with it there; do not look for it here.  
When I resolved on my departure, (O good God) what a deal of content did represent itself unto me? Me thought, the very thought of it wrought wonderfully upon me, apprehending no happiness to be equal unto this. With these eyes of my imagination, I beheld only April, and the beauty of the Fields in that season; not so much as once thinking on the August, that 
The strange alterations in this world.  was to come after: As if I were to suffer nothing, and had been made of some impossible substance, that could not be subject to perturbations; or these foolish crosses of the world. Those long and even ways, I conceited as things, that I was not to go; at least, not to be wearied with them. To eat and drink at your Inns, and other the like vittailing houses, (as one that did not know what kind of Vermin, these bloodsuckers were,) I thought they would have given me my meat for nothing; or if they did take money for it, that it would have been much better than what you have heard me tell you. The variety and greatness of things; as Birds, Beasts, Mountains, Woods, Cities, and whatsoever was inhabited with people, as if I had them all already in my hand, all did figure forth unto me content, and nothing but content; but could not find it in any thing, but in a good and honest life.  
I did frame in the fabric of my brain, Castles of Content, and that all things should succeed prosperously with me, and that where-soever I came, I should meet with my Mother, that should make much of me, and my Maid, that should make me unready, and bring my supper to bed to me, and that should help me on in the morning with my clothes, and fetch me my breakfast. Good God, who would think, that the world were so large and so long as it is? I had seen it in some Maps, and me thought it was all plain and smooth, and huddled (as it seemed there to be) all together, without any great either difference, or distance. I did not imagine, there could have been 
Insipientis est di●…cte non putatem.  so many troubles, and so many miseries in it. But to say, I never thought it, is a thing that betrays a man to have lineally descended of a race of Coxcombs, it is a property, that belongs only unto fools; it is the excuse of rude and ignorant Asses, the child's help, and the careless man's refuge. For he that is wise and discreet, ought ever to think on things aforehand, to forecast the worst; and to prevent a mischief before it come.  
But I did like a simple Youth, (as I was) having neither wit nor government in me; and therefore I was justly punished, for that living so at ease as I did; and being as it were in Paradise, I would go abroad into the world; and like my first forefathers, could not see when I was well, but I know not out of what vain humour, must go seek after the knowledge of good, and ill. How many things began I then to call to mind, when I came out of the Inn without my Cloak, and was not only cozened, but made a common laughing stock, to as many as looked upon me! ay, would fain have then been feeding on the fleshpots of Egypt: O how I did long to be at home again! But (as the saying is) elbien, hasta que se pierde, no se conoçe. Man knows not 
Magis carendo, quam fruendo, etc.  what happiness is, till he want it.  
We were all sad and heavy, and jogged on along in a sullen and melancholy kind of fashion; and now my honest Carrier was no more so full of his laughing, as he was before; the wind was laid in that corner, by the trick that mine Host had put upon him. Before, he threw stones on my house top, thinking to break the Tiles, and crack my Roof: but when he found his own to be made of glass, he left his flinging, withdrew his hand, and kept himself quiet. It is less ill, and more discretion to consider with a man's 
Moral lessons.  self, before he speak, what he may chance to hear; and before that he do a wrong, whether it may be returned upon himself, or no? It is not good for a man to thrust himself wilfully into danger. For when a man shall take too much liberty to himself; he shall find a tongue for a tongue, and a hand for a hand. All things have their equal measure; like do, like have: And he that will be honoured of all, must honour all.  
If it enter not (yet at least it ought) into thy consideration, that what thou hast said or done in secret, either shall, or may be pu●…shed by some one or other to the world, and that thou mayst meet with such a one, that either in word, or in deed, may reply that unto thee, which thou wouldst not willingly hear, and less endure: Do not stand upon thy strength, nor rely too much on thine own might: For though thy affront be not written in thy forehead; yet will it be made known to all the world. Do not make those thy enemies, whom with good usage thou mayst make thy friends. For it is not good to have any enemy at all, though never so weak. For from a little spark, ariseth oftentimes a great flame. What thing's so fair and beautiful in itself; what more worthy wisemen; what more befitting brave spirits and valiant Gentlemen; then to measure their action by the rule of reason, to bridle and rhene in their passions, and to carry an even hand in all that they do; to the end that they may not act any thing unaduisedly, and put themselves upon extremities? Dost thou not see, how the world is now altered with our Carrier? He was now as silent as the night, not a word that comes from him. He laughs no more, but hangs down his head in his bosom, not daring for shame to lift it up. Our good honest Clergymen road mumbling their Matins to themselves; I was thinking on mine own misfortunes: and when all and every one of us were as it were in a wood, even in the thickest of all our contemplations, (every man thinking upon his own business) two Ministers of justice, with their Officers at their heels, came in pursuit of a Page, that had stolen from his Master great store of money and jewels. And by the marks that were given them; it should seem it was 
Guzman apprehended for a Thief, and his sufferings.  such another stripling as myself. They had no sooner spied me, but they cried out aloud: Ah thou thief, have we caught thee? we have thee safe enough now, thou canst not escape our hands: And presently hereupon they struck me off the Ass (my brother) with their Fists; and when they had me down, laying fast hold on me, they fell a searching me, thinking to have found the stolne-goods about me.  
They took off the Packsaddles, searched the Panels, leaving not so much 
Sergeants and Catchpoles, an uncivil kind of people.  room, as you may put a pins-head between, which they did not narrowly pry into: and when they could find nothing there, than they began to exclaim, and cry out upon me; Ah, thou thief, confess and tell us the truth; for we will hang thee here presently, if thou delay us any longer. They would not hear me, nor admit of any excuse I could make for myself; and in despite of the world, without any other cause given, (save their own self-will and opinion) I, and no other man, must needs be the fellow. They gave me many blows, thumps on the breast, boxes on the ear with the backs of their hands, and many other outrages, wherewith they tormented 
Man's depraved disposition, what effects it worketh.  me, and all, that I might not be suffered by them to speak for myself, and to pronounce something in mine own defence. And although it did much grieve me, to see how ill I was used by them, yet I could not choose but laugh to myself, for that my companion was worse dealt withal; laying more load and harder blows upon him, than me, as a receiver and concealer of this theft, and that he was my partner and sharer therein.  
Dost thou not here perceive the perverse inclination of men, who have scarce any feeling of their own miseries, when they see those of their enemies, to be greater than their own? I was not half Cater-cousins with him, because by his means, I had lost my Cloak, and supped upon a Mule. And therefore I did bear mine own hurt the better, because he suffered somewhat more than myself. They did beat him without mercy; they had no pity of him in the world, but were still bawlling upon him, that he should discover, whither he had carried these goods? and to what secret place he had conveyed them?  
The poor man that was as innocent as myself, and as free from any such fault, as the child that is new borne, did not know in the world what to do. He thought at first that they had been but in jest with him; but when he saw they were in earnest, and past so far beyond the bounds of sport, and that it was now no longer a jesting matter, 
* A Proverb.  He cursed the dead to the devil, & all those that should but shed a tear for him. This sport did nothing please him, and wished by this time with all his heart, that he had never seen me. The Gown (as they say) was now brushed clean, not a speck to be seen; all was unfolded, and searched over and over, but nothing at all to be found: and though the theft appeared not, yet the rigour of their punishing ceased not: But as if they had the Law in their own hands, or had been to fit upon us as our lawful judges, they did use us most cruelly both in word and deed: perhaps it was given them so in charge amongst other their instructions. Now they being weary with punching us, and we with suffering it, they began to bind our hands, and pinion our arms, to carry us back with them to seville.  
Let it be in thy Litany, that God would deliver thee from committing any offence against these three Holy's; The holy 
a The holy Inquisition is well known to the world, what severe courses they take. The severest and cruelest Officers that are in all Spain. What base and vile people, are the Sergeants and Catchpoles.  Inquisition, the holy 
b Hermandad, in Castille is a certain Tribunal, that hath a great jurisdiction, and punisheth the fautls commited in the fields, which hath great prerogatives and exemptions from the kings of Spain: And is in that respect amongst them, that it is styled by the name of Santa, or holy.  Hermandad, and the holy 
c The Cruzada is an Indulgence which the Popes granted to those, that went to conquer the Holy-Land, which is now granted to the King of Spain, by way of Subsidy against Infidels and Heretics, giving some final alms towards so pious a work.  Crusada: But if thou be faulty, then pray, That the Lord would deliver thee from the holy Hermandad: for the other Holy's, having (as they have) upright judges, men of truth, knowledge, and Conscience; their Ministers notwithstanding and under-officers, are of a different condition. And your Sergeants and Catchpoles belonging to the holy Hermandad, are in the general, a kind of most lewd and wicked people; men without Souls, and not worthy to be spoken of, or named amongst honest men. And very many of them, for a very little matter, will not stick to swear that against thee, which thou never didst, nor they never saw, more than the money which they took, to bear false witness against thee, (unless thou bestow the wine upon them, or otherwise content them, by greasing their fist.) They are in conclusion, of a rascal kind of race; very Varlets, Buckle-bosomes, Collar-catchers: in a word, they are Sergeants, and Catchpoles; and so by consequence, thieves, passants, or but an Ace less; and (as we shall tell you hereafter) those that rob the Commonwealth where-soever they come, as if they had a Commission for these their open thefts. And now (my honest Sergeant) me thinks I hear thee mutter, that I speak amiss; telling me, that thou (for thy part) art a very honest man, and dost exercise thy Office well, without abuse unto any. I confess as much, and say, that thou art such an one, and that I know thee to be so. But tell me, my friend, (and let us speak it in secret between ourselves, that no body may hear us) dost not thou know, (and confess ingenuously) that this is truth which I speak of thy fellows? if thou know'st as much, (as thou canst not choose) and that it is so indeed; I talk to them, and not to thee.  
Now had we quite lost our Clergymen, we shook hands with them at the first, who walked afoot their way, and we ours. Shall I tell you, what I thought with myself? if you will give me the hearing, I will. Trust me, all the blows that I received, nay, Death itself, would not have been half so grievous unto me, as to see myself brought back again, in this manner to mine own Country, if their resolution had held: if they had carried me to any place, where I was unknown to it, and it unto me, it had not been a Pins-poynt matter. I should have set light by it, and cast it at my heel, especially considering, that in the end I must be set at liberty, and come off clear; and that the truth would at last show itself, and make it known to the world that I was not the man, they took me to be. We were drawn along like dogs in a pair of couples, afflicted in that manner as thou mayst imagine, (if ever the like misfortune should happen unto thee.) I know not how it came to pass, (but so it was) that one amongst the rest looked steadfastly upon me, and said to one that was by him; How now, what's this? I fear me we have taken our mark amiss, and through our too much haste, have run into an error. The other answered; Why think you so? He replied; Do not you know, that he; whom we are to seek after, wants his left Thumb; and this Youth you see, is sound in that part? Whereupon they went to read their 
a Requisitoria is a judges Warrant to another, wherein he requireth him to execute his command. Guzman, set free.  Requisitoria, which did set down the marks, whereby they should know him, and they found they had been deceived almost in every one of them. But questionless, they had a great desire to beat somebody, and so fell upon him that came first to hand. Presently thereupon, they vn-pinioned us, and loosed our hands, and craving pardon, that they were so much mistaken, they went their way, and left us sound paid for our pains; taking some few 
b The Spanish word Quarto, is a kind of brass coin, whereof four make 3. pence.  Quarto's of the Carrier, for the sight of the Commission, to moisten their mouths herewith, at the next Inn that they should light on.  
No ay mal tan malo, de que no resulte algo bueno.  
There is no ill so bad, from whence there doth not arise some good. If they had not stolen my Cloak from me, by having that upon my back, they would not have perceived, whether I had been sound of my thumbs, or no? But had it so fall'n out, that they should have come to know any such thing by me, it had come so out of season, that rather than I would have confessed the fact, I would have first endured a thousand torments. In every thing I had very good fortune. My money spent, my Cloak stolen, my belly hungry, 
Guzman's good fortune what is was.  my cheeks buffeted, my neck out of joint, and my teeth bathed in blood, with the bobs on my nose, and the dashes that they gave me on the mouth. My Companion, if he were not worse, was no less ill entreated then myself. And when they had used us both thus hardly, to make us amends, they cry us mercy, saying; That we are not the men. I pray mark, what a pretty kind of pardon this was, and in what good time it came: first, they fall a beating of us, before they examine us; and when they have almost maimed us, to make us amends, forsooth, they ask us forgiveness.  
The Clergymen were now near at hand, we presently overtake them; they blest themselves when they saw us. But I up and told them, what was the cause of our liberty; for my Companion was so banged about the chaps, that he durst not dare to speak, for fear he should spit out his grinders.  
Every one got upon his Ass, and we began to spur on, but not with our heels; because with them we were not able to reach to our Saddle-skirts. And I assure you in good faith, it were a world to tell you, what a bargain we had of it; how the Fair went, and what a market we made of it.  
Then said the younger of the two Clerks; No more of this (my friends) it is enough. That we may forget part of these sorrows past, and entertain the way with some merriment; when my Companion hath ended his 
a The Clergymen in Spain, when they travel on the way, have certain set prayers to say.  Devotion, I shall relate a Story unto you; much whereof happened in seville. We took it all as a favour; and the other having now ended his Orisons, attending this Discourse with a deep silence, and an earnest desire, we looked still when he should begin.   

CHAP. VIII. Wherein Guzman de Alfarache relateth the Story of those two Lovers, Ozmin and Daraxa.  

THE ARGUMENT.  
How Ferdinand and Isabella, King & Queen of Spain, took Baça, a City of the Moors, wherein Daraxa a beautiful and noble Damozell was taken prisoner, whom Queen Isabella brought with her to seville, and there left her in the custody of Don Lewis de Padilla. And how Ozmin a young Gentleman well descended, and enamoured of that Lady, after he had suffered long sickness for the imprisonment of his fair Daraxa, went to the said City; together with the diverse accidents that happened to them both.  
AS soon as they had mumbled up their prayers, (which they quickly dispatched) they shut their prayerbooks, and putting them in their Alforjas, (which is a kind of Wallet) all of us giving diligent ear unto him, the good Priest began his promised History after this manner:  
The Catholic King's Don Ferdinand, and Donna Isabel, being at the Siege of Baça, it was so well fought on both sides, (being as bravely defended, as it was valiantly assaulted) that for a long time it was not known which side had the better, or where the advantage was like to fall, (Fortune had so equally spread her wings.) For albeit, the King's Forces were the greater, and did exceed the other in number of men; yet the Moors (being likewise many) were wonderfully strengthened by the good disposition of the situation of that City.  
The Queen Donna Isabella remained in jaen, making provision of all things necessary for the Campe. And the King Don Ferdinand went forth in person to supply the Army; which he divided into two parts: In the one he planted his Ordinance, recommending the care thereof to the Marquesses of Cadiz, and Aquila, to Lewis Fernandez Portocarrero, Lord of Palma, and to the Commendadores of Alcantara and Calatrana, besides other Captains and Soldiers. In the other himself was encamped, accompanied with the chief of his Nobility and Gentry, and most experienced men of Arms; so hedging in the City on every side, that it seemed as a Centre in the midst of a large Circle.  
The two Camps lay some half League the one from the other, if the compass had run right; but because their passage was stopped, they beleaguered the other half along by the mountain; and by this means were distanced one from the other a League or thereabouts: and because they could hardly succour one another, they agreed (the Council of War having so thought it fit) to make certain Trenches and Castles; which the King in his own person did often visit. And albeit the Moors did labour by all means possible, to hinder this design, yet the Christians made good their Work, valiantly defending what they had undertaken; there being not a day that passed over their heads, wherein there were not two or three (if not more) skirmishes that passed between them; many on both sides being both hurt and slain. But because the work, (being a thing of so great importance) should not cease upon those that wrought thereon, a sufficient Guard did continually attend both night and day: it happened, that Don Rodrigo, and Don Hortado de Mendonça, Adelantado of Caçorla, and Don Sancho de Castilia, being of the Guard; the King commanded them to make good that place, till that the Condees of Cabra, and Urenna, and the marquis of Astorga should enter with their Regiments for a certain exploit that was to be put in execution. The Moors, who (as hath been said) were very watchful, seeking to disturb the work, descended from the top of the mountain with some 3000. Foot, and 400. Horse, and set upon Don Rodrigo de Mendonça. The Adelantado and Don Sancho began the fight with them; and now the battle growing hot between them, the Moors were relieved by many other that sallied out of the City. King Ferdinand being there present, and seeing how things went, commanded the Condee de Tendilla, that he should assail them on the other side, so that the battle by this time grew very bloody on both sides.  
The King then seeing the straight wherein the Condee was, and that he was wounded, manfully fight against the Moors, he gave order to the Master de Santiago to assist with his forces on the one side, and to the marquis of Cadiz, the Duke of Nagera, and the Comendadors of Calatrava, and to Françisco de Bovadilla, that they should charge them with their troops, where the Artillery was planted. The Moors thereupon drew forth another third Squadron against them, and it was bravely fought on both sides, as well by the Moors as the Christians. And the King being himself in this conflict, discovered by those of his Camp, they armed with all the haste they could, and went forth to aid him. And so thick were the Troops of those that came to succour him, that the Moors being unable any longer to make resistance, betook themselves to flight, the Christians still having them in chase, making great slaughter of them; pursuing them even to the very suburbs of the City; whereinto many of the Soldiers entered, and got rich pillage; taking some of the principal persons prisoners; in which number was Daraxa, a Moorish damosel, the only daughter of the Alcalde of that Fort. Her beauty was her own, and the most perfect one, that ever eye had seen: her years were rather shorter, then full seventeen; being so well grown in the bud, that she was now ready for the blowing. And being in this true height of excellency, as is here set down, it was raised much the higher by her discretion, gravity, and graceful carriage: She spoke Spanish so well, that a man that had not known her, would have taken her to have been an old Christian: for she might have passed amongst those that speak the purest Language.  
The King did highly esteem of this Lady, accounting of her as of a jewel of great price. And therefore sent her as a treasure to the Queen his Wife, who made no less reckoning of her, receiving her very graciously, as well for her own desert and worth, for that she was of principal rank and quality, being descended of Kings, and the daughter of so honourable a person; as also for to try whether she might be a means to make the City to yield, without farther fight, and shedding of blood. Whereupon she treated her with all kindness, and the best usage she could devose, far exceeding the fashion of those her other Ladies, which were nearest about her person. So that, not as a Captive, but as a Kinswoman, she entertained her in the kindest manner that could be, greatly desiring, that such an excellent piece of nature as she was, and where such surpassing beauty did possess the body, there the soul might not with fowl Paganism be sullied and defiled. These were sufficient reasons of themselves to have her still in her sight, besides the content she received in talking and conversing with her. For she was able to give her so good an account of the state of the whole Country, and of every particular passage in those wars (though she were but of young and tender years) as if she had been of maturer age, and the wisest Counsellor in the Kingdom. And albeit the King and Queen happened afterwards to meet in Baça, (that City being rendered up into their hands upon certain conditions) yet the Queen would never suffer Daraxa to be from her side, for that great affection which she bore unto her, promising the Alcalde her father, to do her many particular favours. Her absence did much grieve him: but the love which he saw their Catholic Majesties bare unto her, did somewhat lessen his sorrow, conceiving that much honour and profit would redound unto her thereby: And so rested himself contented, and pocketed up his grief in silence. The Queen (as I told you) would never be without her, and at length carried her along with her unto seville; where, out of the desire she had to win her to be a Christian, for to dispose her thereunto by little and by little, using no violent, but tractable means; she took her one day aside, and said thus unto her:  
Thou canst not by this time (Daraxa) but truly understand how well I affect thee, and the great desire I have had to give thee content: In requital whereof, I shall entreat thee for my sake to grant me one request; which is, that thou wilt exchange this attire thou now wearest, and put on such clothes as I shall invest thee withal, appertaining to mine own person; and to wear, and enjoy them, being that thy beauty will be much advantaged by this habit of ours.  
Daraxa mildly made answer; I shall willingly perform, what your Majesty shall be pleased to command me. For, by obeying you herein, (if there be any discretion in me, or any consideration of worth in this my weak apprehension,) I shall from this day forward think the better of it, and hold it for good, for doubtless it cannot be otherwise, but that these your Majesty's ornaments will add a grace to my imperfections, and your rich dress supply my poor defects.  
Daraxa (replied the Queen) it is not your modesty that can make you derogate from yourself. For if ever Nature made a perfect work, she summed it all up in thyself. But not to insist upon the praise of that, which can not sufficiently be expressed, we graciously accept of this your service, and the willing tender you make thereof unto us.  
Now was Daraxa apparelled after the Spanish fashion, residing certain days in the Palace, till such time as their Catholic Majesties departed from thence, to go to the siege of Granada. And therefore as well for the troubles that attend the Wars; as also that she might take some savour in the things of our Faith, the Queen thought it fit to leave her in the house of Don Lewis de Padilla (a man of quality and a Favourite) where she might entertain herself with Donna Eluira de Guzman, his Daughter and a Virgin; to whom was given in charge, the care of her entertainment, with express order to use her with all respect; and that she should want nothing that might give her content. And albeit she were accordingly received by them, being feasted and courted with all the pleasures that place could afford; yet it grieved her much to see herself so far from her native home, besides other causes, which gave her much more discontent, but those she did not discover; for with a cheerful countenance, and a pleasant semblance, she made show, that seeing it was her Majesty's pleasure so to dispose of her, that she did esteem it as a favour; and so did express it in her looks and gesture.  
This Damsel, her Parents had betrothed to a Moorish Gentleman of Granada, whose name was Ozmin: whose quality and condition, together with his disposition, was in all points suitable to that of Daraxa. He was young, rich, of a sweet behaviour, personable, discreet, and above all very valiant, and full of courage, and every one of these parts well adapted, and disposed to receive many other, which as they were fit for him, so they did well become him. Besides, he was so dextrous in the Spanish tongue, as if he had been bred up in the heart of Casiile, and a natural of that Country: (it being a thing as worthy commendation in virtuous young men, as it is a glory to those parents, who breed up their children in the knowledge of tongues, and exercise of Arms.) He loved his espoused Lady with all the tenderness that a Lover could, insomuch that he did (in a manner) commit idolatry, out of the reverence and respect that he bore unto her; and would (might he be suffered so to do) have set up her Statue upon the highest Altars. On her, he did wholly employ his memory; for her all his senses kept continual watch and ward, and his will was more hers, than his own: Nor was his Spouse (who was made all of thankfulness) any whit his debtor. Their love was as equal, as was their quality, and their affection did truly correspond with their even condition. But surpassing all the rest, was that most honest course of life; wherein they conserved themselves. The sweetness of those discourses which by Letters passed between them, those lovely messages which were sent to and fro each to other, can not be endeared according to their true desert. They had visited & seen one another very often, but never treated of love mouth to mouth. But their speaking eyes parled many times, when their tongues were silent, which never omitted the occasion to talk together. For both of them many years before, and yet not very many, because they were both but young, but to speak more properly, had even from their childhood loved and visited each other at their pleasure. The parents were knit in so perfect a friendship, and their children in such straight knots of the fastest love, that to make this harmony the fuller, they did all desire to be nearer linked (if possibly it might be) by a strong Alliance: And by this marriage it had taken effect, had it not, when all was in a manner concluded, been crossed in an unlucky hour, and by the rigour of some austere Planet, when Baça was besieged.  
But upon this revolution of things, and these warlike commotions, it was thought fit to defer it for a while, waiting for a more convenient time, wherein their marriage might be solemnised with greater mirth and jollity, and such triumphs and feastings performed, as the youthfulness and qualification required of so sweet and lovely a couple; and seemed necessarily to suit with the estimation and greatness of both their parents.  
You have heard already who Daraxa's Father was: Her Mother was her own Kinswoman, daughter to a Sister of Boabdelin, King of that City, who had treated this Match between them. And Ozmin was cousin German to Mahomet, King of Granada, sur-named The Little. Now that all these fair designs, had contrary success to their desires, and that Fortune had bend her brow against them, Daraxa remaining now in the power of those their Catholic Majesties; and being left behind in seville, as soon as Ozmin heard of it, the exclamations that he made; the sorrows which he uttered; the sighs which he vented, (as they were the true Heralds that proclaimed his hearts-grief;) so did they move all men to compassion, who could not choose but share, (and that in no small measure) with him, when they saw such lamentable effects of his great affliction.  
But because the loss was so solely his, and the wound put so home to his very heart and soul, sorrow did so seize upon him, that in a short time it took hold upon his manly (yet delicate) body: so that all the whole frame thereof was out of temper, and fell at last into a grievous sickness, as dangerous and difficile to be cured, as the remedy was distant, and the cause unknown. The effects whereof daily increased with mortal signs of death, because the cause increased; and the medicines that were ministered unto him, being not rightly applied, did him no good at all. And which is the worst in maladies, the Physicians did not truly apprehend the nature of his disease, being the most essential point, for the restoring of a man to his former state of health. So that his afflicted Parents, despairing of his recovery, had now rendered up all hope of life; and the Physicians, they had given him over, being of opinion, that it was impossible he should live; their judgement being strengthened and confirmed by all those accidents which did jointly concur, and openly express themselves, in this his painful torment.  
But when this sick Lover was treading the last step of life, that he had to go, and even entering into the doors of Death; a conceit came suddenly into his head, which representing itself to his imagination, wrought so effectually with him, that he seemed to draw some fruit from it, and to be somewhat better than he was: And though his sickness were yet still full of danger, yet compared with that miserable estate wherein he stood before, the amendment could not for the time be greater. And out of the longing desire that he had to put that in execution, which his conceit had formerly entertained, plotting in his imagination, how he might come to get a sight of his beloved Spouse, he gained breath, and grew somewhat stronger, stoutly resisting those things, that might hinder his intent.  
Whereupon he licenced his sorrows, and shook hands with melancholy, taking his leave of them both, bidding them farewell for ever, and did now wholly intent his health; and by this means began by degrees to grow better and better, clean contrary to the expectation of those, who had seen how low he was brought, and in what a desperate estate he was.  
True is that old Adage, Desire subdueth fear, trampleth on the neck of inconveniences, and leveleth all difficulties, be the way of them never so steep, never so rocky. And a good and cheerful heart in a sick man, is the best Syrup, and the most comfortable cordial in the world; your Amber, your Coral, your Pearl, your Gold, and all the rabble of your other restoratives are nothing unto it. And therefore it is good for a man to make himself as merry as he can. And when thou seest a man once to wax merry when he is sick, thou mayst boldly say he mends.  
Now then, by this time, our Gentleman is up upon his feet, and though yet weak and scarce able to walk up and down in his Chamber (his long sickness having yet made his legs unable to bear his body) he forthwith furnished himself of a Moor, to be both his Guide, and Interpreter, who had for a long time served the Kings of Granada as an Intelligencer And putting up good store of gold and jewels for that journey, and taking with him a good horse, that was brown Bay, with a Petronel hanging at the arson of his Saddle, and his Sword and Dagger girt to his side, upon a certain night by them appointed they depar●…ed out of the City, in the fashion and habit of Spaniards; and going by the way, knowing well how to coast the Country, as being well acquainted with those parts, they passed within view of the enemy's Camp, and having left that behind them by bypaths, and secret passages they came to Loja. Where, being near unto the City, it was their hard fortune to meet with a Captain of the field, who went gathering up of men which had fled from the Army, and forsaken their colours. Now as soon as he spied these two, he took hold of them. The Moor feigned he had a Passport, seeking for it one while in his bosom, another while in his pocket, and other parts about him. But because he could not find it, and for that the Captain perceived he had been out of the road way, which made him shrewdly to suspect them, he took them along with him, to bring them back again to the Campe.  
But Ozmin not dismayed herewith, nor suffering any alteration of countenance, with great boldness and free la●…age, making benefit of the Nobleman's name▪ in whose power his Spouse was, feigned himself to be his son, styling himself by the name of Don Rodrigo de Padilla, and that he came with a message to their Catholic Majesties from his father touching Daraxa; and that his health failing him (which was witnessed by his won looks) he was making home with all the convenient haste he could. Otherwhiles, he affirmed he had lost both his Passport, and his way; and that to return again thereinto, he had betaken himself to that path.  
But this would not serve his turn, for he still insisted to have them go back, whilst they either did not, or would not then understand, that he did not care a button whether they returned or no? His pretention only was, that a Gentleman of that rank and quality, as he pretended himself to be, should have blinded his eyes with some few Dubblons; for there is no General's hand, that can equal the seale-Royall, which is of so much the more power with us; by how much we find it firmed and instamped with that more noble metal. For your poor Shag-rags, and silly snakes, that steal from the Army to return home: for these (I say) they have teeth, and sharp ones too, and on such poor souls as these, do they only exercise their power, executing those orders which are made against such kind of fugitives: But not on them, from whom they have hope of profit, and may make good gain; for this is that they seek for.  
Ozmin suspecting whither these brave of his did tend; and finding on which foot he began to halt, followed him close, and began thus to speak unto him: Misconstrue me not (Noble Captain) nor think, that it shall grieve me a whit to return once more back again, nor were it ten times one after another, should it trouble me to reiterate the steps that I have trodden; nay, I would willingly repeat the same way again and again; if my health (as you see) were not wanting unto me; but since the necessity of my return is made evident and plain unto you: let me entreat you, Sir, not to put me to that trouble, seeing it is as much as my life is worth, considering the weakness wherein I now am. And with that, taking a rich ring from off his finger, he put it into his hand, which was as if he should have thrown Vinegar upon fire; for he straight grew cool upon it, and kindly said unto him; Sir, God be your good speed; for I well perceive that you are as you seem to be a man of principal note, that does not serve the King for pay, nor would out of your nobleness and point of honour forsake the field, but upon so great an occasion as this. I shall weight upon you to Loja, where I will give order, that you pass forward with the more safety. And so he did, remaining both good friends; and when they had reposed themselves a while, they took their leave.  
Attended with these and other the like misfortunes, they arrived at length at seville; where, by the information that he had gotten, he came to know the street and house where his Daraxa dwelled: he walked many a fair turn thereabout at different hours, and on diverse days, but it was never his good hap to see her: for in regard she walked not abroad, nor went to Church, she spent her whole time in her needle, and in recreating herself with her friend Donna Elvira.  
Now Ozmin perceiving the difficulty to compass his desire, and the suspicion which he might give, (as ordinarily all strangers do, in whatsoever place they come: for all men's eyes are upon them, desiring to know who they are, whence they come, what they seek, and how they live, especially if they frequent one street more than another, and cast a careful eye either upon the windows or the doors of some particular house.) Hence ariseth envy; hence, a muttering and murmuring of the multitude; and hence, (though none be interessed in the business) an hatred without a cause. And some whisper were already begun; whereupon he was enforced, for the avoiding of scandal, to forbear for some few days, whilst his servant in the mean while performed that office, as being a person of less esteem, and therefore the less observed. But he making no discovery, did only comfort himself in walking that way in the night at extraordinary hours, and in embracing the walls, kissing the doors and thresholds of that house.  
In this forlorn kind of hope he lived some time, till at length that fell out which sorted with his desire. For his servant taking the care upon him to round the house three or four times aday, found out in the end, that Don Lewis was a making up of a certain Wall that was fall'n down. Then did he take Occasion by the foretop, advising his Master to put on a poor canvas Frock, or the like base garment, and to thrust himself in amongst the rest, as a Labourer in that Worke. He liked well of the invention, put it in execution, leaving his servant to look to his horse, and the wealth and jewels that were in his Lodging, that he might help himself therewithal, if need were. And so he went forth to this work: whither, when he came, he demanded, if they had any work for a stranger; they told him, they had. For his wages, it is to be supposed, that he for his part was willing to be hired at any rate, rather than to sit out. So he now sets himself roundly to his work, striving to outwork them all: and albeit, through his many crosses and discontents, he had not yet recovered his perfect health, yet (as the phrase is) he drew strength out of weakness: for it is the heart that commands the flesh. He was the first still that came to work, and the last that left off: and when all the rest were willing to take their ease and refresh themselves, he was still seeking out something, wherein he might busy himself: insomuch that being found fault withal for it by his fellow-Labourers, (for even in misfortunes Envy likewise hath a hand) he made them answer; That he knew not how to be idle. Don Lewis, who noted his diligence, had a liking unto him, and was resolving with himself to take him into his service for the affairs of his house; and more particularly for the keeping of his Garden. Hereupon he demanded of him, whether he had any skill in that kind? He told him, A little; and that the desire that he had to do him service, would in short time enable him much more. He was well pleased both with his speech and person; for he had found him in every thing, to be as sufficient, as he was careful.  
The Mason had made an end of repairing the wall, and Ozmin was now Gardener to Don Lewis: nor until that day, was it ever possible for him to see Daraxa. But such was his good fortune (Fortune being willing so to have it) that the Sun shone bright that morning, the sky was clear, the heaven's propitious, scattering the clouds of his former disgraces, and discovering a new light; by help whereof, he saw the joyful haven to his long-indured shipwrecks.  
And the very first Evening that he exercised this his new Office, he saw his Spouse coming all alone, softly pacing her steps thorough a spacous Walk, beset all with Myrtles, musk-roses, jesmines, and other Flowers, gathering here and there one, wherewith she adorned her hair. Now by her attire, he would never have known her, if the true Original had not well agreed with that lively counterfeit, which he had imprinted in his heart: as likewise, that he did plainly perceive, that so great beauty could not belong to any body but herself. He was much perplexed when he saw her, and debated with himself, whether he were best to speak to her or no: but his bashfulness being as great, as was his prevention, being hindered by the shortness of that time wherein she passed along, he hung down his head, making holes in the earth with a Dibbe that he had in his hand, for the setting of a few choice Slips.  
Daraxa turned her head aside, and when in the casting of it, she saw this new Gardener; she steadfastly began to look upon him: and viewing well that side of his face (which did most conveniently discover itself unto her) that place did represent itself to her imagination, where she had so often beheld her Beloved, (so like did he seem unto her:) whereupon, such a sudden sadness seized upon her, that fainting she fell to ground; and when she came to herself, taking hold on the Rails of the Garden, which were wrought of well-ordered Canes, (according to the fashion of that Country) she sent forth a most sorrowful sigh, attended with infinite store of tears; and leaning her hand on her rosy cheek, she called many things to remembrance; wherein, if she should have insisted upon every particular, and persevered in the recordation of them; she might easily have been the author of her own death. But she did put them off as well as she could, with another new desire which she had, to entertain her soul with his sight; deceiving those conceits, with that little parcel of Ozmins' face which represented itself unto her.  
Hereupon she rose, but accompanied with a general trembling, (her whole body and heart, panting and shivering with an aguish fit of Love) and turning again to contemplate anew the image of her adoration; which the more attentively she beheld, the more lively she transformed the same into herself. It seemed unto her that she had been in a dream, but when she perceived that she was awake, and that her sight served her, she was afraid it was some ghost or Fairy-apparition. But afterwards, when upon better view she saw it was a man, a very man, and no Phantasma, she wished that it might be he, whom she loved. Notwithstanding, she was mightily perplexed in mind, and cast many doubts with herself, not being able to devose who this man should be. For his sickness had laid a paleness on his cheeks, which had lost their wont colours; but in all other things besides, as his favour, his feature, his proportion, and carriage did assure her of the truth: yet his office, his habit, and the very place wherein he stood, made her discard all such kind of thoughts, and to dis-deceive herself: and again, it grieved her to be drawn out of this error, persisting obstinately in her wish, not being able to abstain to discover her particular affection unto him, for the resemblance which he had of him, whom she so dear loved: whereupon, out of those her doubtings and anxieties to know what he was, she said unto him; Friend, whence are you? With that, Ozmin suddenly, and in a starting manner casts up his head, looking upon his beloved and sweetest pledge, but his tongue being knit close to the roof of his mouth with the fullest knot of Love; having not the power to speak a word; and not being able, no not for his life, (so great was his passion) to answer her with his tongue, he replied with his eyes, watering the earth with that abundance of tears, which fell guttering down his cheeks, as if they had flowed from two clear fountains. And with this, these two dear and faithful Lovers came to have true knowledge each of other.  
Daraxa answered him in his own language, distilling ropes of Pearls in round oriental drops down her lovely cheeks. And now were they ready to exchange embracements, at least some sweet words of Love; when lo, in the instant there entered into the Garden Don Rodrigo, son and heir to Don Lewis, who being enamoured of Daraxa, did always wait upon her steps, that he might thereby enjoy the occasion to contemplate on her beauty. Now, that they might avoid all suspicion, they no sooner spied him, but Ozmin returned roundly to his labour, and Daraxa walked leisurely along, as she was wont to do. Don Rodrigo perceived (by her sad semblance, and inflamed eyes, grown red with weeping) an alteration in her countenance, and presuming that somewhat had offended her, (for her looks did show she was not well pleased) he made towards Ozmin, and asked him what the matter might be of her discontent: who, albeit he was not fully as yet recovered of his forepassed perturbation, yet enforced by that necessity whereunto he was driven, told him; Sir, as you see her now, so was she when she came hither, she did not exchange so much as one word with me; and therefore told me no part of her mind, nor do I know whence this her passion should proceed. Especially, this being the first day, that I entered into this place: so that it was neither fitting for me to ask her the question, nor discretion in her to open her heart unto me. With this answer he went his way, with purpose to learn it out of Daraxa herself. But the more he entertained himself in this displeasing subject, the larger steps she made, speedily wheeling about to her Lodging, shutting the doors after her as she went in.  
diverse Evenings and Mornings these two Lovers luckily met, enjoying upon several occasions some flowers, and honest fruits from the tree of true love, wherewith they gave some ease unto their griefs; Entertaining their true pleasures, with the desire and hope of that happy time, wherein without shadows and interruptions, they might freely enjoy each other. But this content of theirs was as short, as unsecure. For the extraordinary continuation of their companying together, and their close discourse, (and that in the Arabic tongue) and her excusing herself (for his sake) from the conversation of her friend Donna Elvira, had already given sufficient distaste to all those of the house, and Don Rodrigo himself was horn-mad, enraged so with jealousy, that he knew not what to do. Not that he had any the least imagination, that the Gardener did treat with her any thing that was unlawful, or made any love to her: but because he saw, that he was made worthy to be entertained with so much frequency in that sweet conversation of hers, which she did not exercise so freely with any other in the world.   

THE ARGUMENT.  
Going on in the discourse of the adventures of these two faithful Lovers, Ozmin and the fair Daraxa, are delivered at large the troubles, jealousies, and the sorrows that befell them.  
MVrmuring, being the natural daughter of Hatred and Envy, is ever more busily labouring to stain the lives of others, and to draw a curtain of darkness over their bright-shining virtues. And amongst people of base and vile condition, (where most commonly she keeps her Court of Audience) it is the only sauce to move their appetite, without which their daintiest dishes have no relish, nor their best morsels any savour in them. It is a bird of the flippantst wing, which as it moveth with most nimbleness, so it doth the greatest mischief. There were not some wanting, that tossed words from hand to hand; some adding, and others inventing matter upon this their so great familiarity, till the ball at last came to ground, and this whispering to Don Lewis his ear, by one who thought to work out himself a fortune thereby, and to grow into favour with his Lord, by this his supposed honourable piece of service.  
This is that which the world doth practice, seeking to gain great men's love at other men's cost, by tricks and lies, when in the naked truth there is not cloth enough to shape a garment according to their mind. An office, worthy those, to whom their own worth is wanting, and have nothing either in their actions, or their persons, that may deservedly recommend them.  
Don Lewis attentively gave ear to these well-composed words, and painted speeches, on which such fair colours were laid. He was a wise and discreet Gentleman, and therefore did not suffer them to dwell, where these men had placed them, but gave them only passage to his imagination, leaving a room empty for to receive the reasons of the defendant, to whom he had left the door open, and would by no means give way to have his ears stopped, albeit he were somewhat offended with the occasion of the scandal. Many things did he cast in his mind, but still the farther he went, the farther he was from the truth. But that which did most trouble him, was the suspicion which he had, that the Gardener was a Moor, who was cunningly come thither to steal away Daraxa: and persuading himself that it was so, his understanding was presently blinded therewith. And that which is ill considered on, many times, nay, for the most part; the execution of that advice is scarce gone out of doors, but that repentance presently enters the house. Upon this surmise, he was resolved to take hold of him, and to clap him fast. Ozmin, without any resistance, or show of Sorrow, or any other alteration of countenance, submitted himself to be shut up in the Hall, the fittest place the suddenness of his surprise could afford for the present. And leaving him thus under lock and key, he made towards Daraxa, who by the hurry and tumult of the ministers and servants of the house, knew already all that had passed, there having been some few days before a muttering of this matter about the house. She showed herself much aggrieved with Don Lewis his manner of proceeding, forming complaints, how he had put in doubt the goodness and unspotted innocence of her life, setting the gate wide open to Suspicion; and that with this blur which he had given to her reputation, every one might think as he listed, and as his fancy should stand affected, to censure her honour accordingly; for there was not any suspicion so bad, whereunto he had not by this his unadvised act, opened a gap to its entrance.  
These, and other well-ordered reasons, delivered with an affection of the mind, and freeness of spirit, made Don Lewis quickly repent himself of what he had done. He now wished with all his heart, (after Daraxa had thus newly moulded him) that he had never attempted any such thing, being angry with himself, and much incensed against those, who had put this into his head. But that he might not show his lightness, in being thus misled, and over-facile to be wrought upon by other men's persuasions, but that what he had done, he had done it upon good consideration, and as the weightiness of the business required, dissembling his sorrow, he spoke thus unto her:  
Dear Daraxa, I acknowledge the wrong I have done you, and ingeniously confess that your complaint is not without just cause, in that I proceeded against you in this uncivil fashion, without having first examined the Witnesses to the full, who have deposed, (as it should seem) thus wrongfully against you. I am not ignorant of your own worth, as likewise that of your parents, and Ancestors, from whom you are descended. I know, that the merits of your own proper person have purchased of the King my Master, and his noble Queen, all that love, which a true and only heir can gain of his loving and tender Parents, having conferred upon you many prodigal and public favours. To this I must give you to understand, that they placed you in my house; to the end that you might be served therein with all care and diligence, according to your own will and pleasure: And that I am bound to give account thereof, according to the trust that was reposed in me. For which reasons, and for that which my service deserveth at your hands, you ought to correspond (that you may not be unlike yourself) with that fair carriage which is due unto my loyalty, and the consideration of these things that are now in question. I neither can nor will conceive, that there can be any thing in you that may seem unbefitting your breeding, or give the least blemish to your honour. But the great familiarity which you hold with Ambrosio (for that name had Ozmin put upon himself, when he first entered to serve as a day-labourer) together with his talking unto you in the Arabike tongue, hath somewhat troubled me, out of the general desire that all here have to understand what manner of man this fellow is, and what his first beginning, neither you, nor myself having seen or known him heretofore. And this being satisfied, you shall rid others of their doubt, and myself of an impertinent and tedious trouble. I beseech you (as you are worthy) that you will resolve us of this scruple, assuring yourself for mine own part, that as much as in me lieth, I shall ever be ready to serve you upon all occasions that shall offer themselves, wherein I may be serviceable unto you.  
Daraxa stood curiously attentive to that which Don Lewis had delivered, that she might be able to make answer unto him, (albeit his good understanding had already prevented her with reasons) in case that any thing had been discovered. But out of that short term of time which she had to bethink herself (laying her former thoughts aside) she was driven to make use of other more material to that proposition which was made unto her, wherewith easily (leaving him well satisfied) she freed him of his care, making good use of it, to be more wary hereafter, that she might enjoy herself, as she was wont, with her beloved; and therewithal she thus said unto him:  
My Lord, and Father; (for so I may truly call you) Lord, for that I am in your power: and Father, for the tender care which you have of me. I should ill correspond with that obligation whereunto I am bound, and those continual favours, which I receive from their Majesties by your means, and by your intercessions daily augmented in my favour, if I should not deposit in the Cabinet of your discretion, my greatest secrets: sheltering them with your shadow, and governing myself by your wisdom: and if with the same truth and plainness, I should not fulfil all your just desires. And albeit to recall things to my remembrance (which I may not forbear to recite unto you) cannot but be a great grief unto me, and even a matter of no small martyrdom; yet with this I will repay your kindness, and make you become a debtor to my sorrows, and give you assurance thereby in how much I esteem your love.  
Sir, you have already understood who I am, for it is notorious to you, and all the world; and how my misfortune or good hap (for I can not, till the fruit wax ripe, by seeing the end of so many troubles, condemn the one, or commend the other:) brought me to this house of yours, even at that very time, when a marriage was in Treaty for me, with a Gentleman of the best both worth and rank in Granada, being a near Kinsman of those Kings, and anciently descended from them.  
This my Husband (if I may so style him) was bred up, being then about some six or seven years of age, with another child a Captive Christian, much about the same years, whom his parents bought for his service and entertainment. They ever went together, played together, eat together, and usually slept together, out of the great love that was between them. See whether these were not pledges of friendship which I have repeated unto you. And so well did my Husband love him, that had he been his equal, or his nearest Kinsman, he could not have loved him better. He trusted him with his person; for he was very valiant; he was the Feoffie of all his pleasures, the Companion of his entertainments, the Treasury of his Secrets, and in substance his second self. In conclusion, they were in all things both of them so like, that nothing did difference them, but their Religion, whereof (out of the greatness of both their discretions) they never argued, that they might not dis-brother themselves. For no brothers in the world could love better than they did. And well did this Captive deserve his love (I spoke amiss, the word Brother better befits him, and so I should have called him) for his faithful carriage, his composed behaviour, and his Gentlemanlike proceeding; in somuch, that if we had not known him to have been borne of mean parents that got their living by their handy-labour, in a poor Cottage, who were captivated and made slaves at the same time, we should verily have believed, that he had descended from some Noble blood, and generous offspring.  
This honest man (I should say honourable; for his virtue deserves that stile) was the Messenger of our entertainments, the Post that ran between us▪ for being so faithful as he was, he was the only man that was wholly employed in that business. He brought me Letters and presents, returning back by him such due requitals, as in like cases usually pass betwixt those that truly love.  
Now, when Baça was delivered up, and he found there, he was set at liberty, together with the rest of the Captives that were at that time within the City. But I am not able to say, whether his joy to recover his freedom, or his sorrow to forsake us, were the greater. This himself can best tell you, as also whatsoever else you shall desire to know besides, if it please you to ask him, which is no hard matter for you to do: for this man I speak of, is that very Ambrosio, which is now in your service, it being God's will that he should come hither, for to be a comfort unto me in these my afflictions. I lost him before ever I thought of it; and when I least looked for him, I found him again. With him I ran over the whole course of my misfortunes, since the first time that I was graduated and took degree in them; with him I did cherish the hopes of my adverse fortune, entertaining a painful life, for to deceive the wearisomeness of alingring and tedious time. If this comfort (for that it is in my favour) shall offend you, follow your own will, for mine shall ever be subordinate to yours, which you may dispose of at your pleasure.  
Don Lewis was strooken with astonishment and tenderness, as well for the strangeness, as the pitifulness of her Story. Besides, he was much moved with her manner of proceeding; for she went on in her Discourse without any pausing, perturbation, or other accident, whereby he might conjecture, that it was a made tale, or invention of her own upon the present. Which carriage she did credit the better, by letting fall from her eyes some effectual tears, which were able to soften hard Marble, and to rend in sunder the rocky Diamond.  
With this speech of hers, Ambrosio was loosed out of prison, without being questioned of any thing, that he might not wrong the report which Daraxa had given of him: Only laying his arm about his neck, looking cheerfully upon him, he told him. Now I know Ambrosio) that thou hast some noble blood about thee; and though this should be wanting unto thee, thou art able to give it thyself by thine own virtue and nobleness. For by that which I have lately heard of thee, I am obliged henceforth to use thee with that fairness as thy worth deserveth. Ozmin told him; In this, Sir, you shall do like yourself; and the good which I shall receive from you, I shall ever make it my glory, that it came from the largeness of your hand, and from so noble a House as this is. This past, he was permitted to return again unto the garden, with the same familiarity as before, if not with much more licence and freeness of liberty. So that now they talked together as often as they would themselves, without any scandal at all.  
In this interim, the King and Queen had still a care to know how it was with Daraxa, as well in the state of her health, as otherwise; whereof particular advice was given them from time to time, who were very glad to hear of her well-doing; and did continually in their Letters recommend her very dear to the care of Don Lewis, with express charge to use her with all kindness.  
This favour of theirs wrought so much, that as well out of the desire to stand in grace with their Majesties, as out of Daraxa her own deserts; not only Don Rodrigo, but most of the principal Cauallero's of that City, wished in their hearts she were a Christian, that they might make love unto her, pretending to take her to Wife. But because Don Rodrigo had her (as hath been said) in his custody, he was in the common opinion of the World, amongst all the other rivals thought to be most favoured by her. The case was very clear, and this suspicion not without great likelihood. For of his quality, condition, behaviour, and fair proceeding, she had had very good trial; and ostentations of this nature, and apparences of such commendable parts as these, are not wont to be of the slightest moment, nor the lowest round in the Ladder, that climbs unto honour. For when a man shall have made public demonstrations of his virtues, and his noble carriage, it is to be presumed he will be no less beloved, than he is known; and so get advantage of those, who (when it shall come to matter of opposition) shall be undervalved by opinion. But as if these Lovers had exchanged their souls, and none of them possessed that which was his own, they were as firm in loving, as far from offending.  
Daraxa never gave way by any dis-composture, or unjointed behaviour, or any other occasion whatsoever, whereby any one might presume more than other upon her favour; howbeit, all of them adored her, left no means unsought to procure her love, nor no nets unspred, seeking by trains to draw her within their reach, but none of them had any ground, whereupon to build their hopes.  
Don Rodrigo perceiving how little his services did avail him, how his labour was in vain, and the small remedy that he found, since after so many days spent in her continual conversation, he remained in the same state as he did the very first day, neither better nor worse, for aught he knew, it came into his consideration to make use of Ozmin, thinking by his intercession to get into her favour; and taking this to be the best and surest way to work his ends, being one morning in the garden, he broke thus with him:  
Friend Ambrosio, Thou canst not but know the obligations which thou hast to thy Religion, to thy King, to thy Country, to that bread which thou eatest of my Fathers, and to that desire, which we have of thy good. I conceive, that as a Christian of that quality, which thy works do publish, thou wilt correspond with that thou professest thyself to be.  
I come to thee, moved thereunto by a great necessity (which now offers itself unto me) whereupon doth depend all the increase of mine honour, and the safety of my life, which wholly lies in thy hands. If discoursing then with Daraxa, amongst other reasons, thou shalt work her by force of Argument, that she forsake this false Sect, wherewith she is now infected, & make her to become a Christian, thou canst not but see what good will come thereof: first, Salvation to her own soul; next, good service unto God; thirdly, great content to their Catholic Majesties; fourthly, honour to thyself in thy Country; and lastly, to myself perfect happiness. For, desiring her to Wife, I mean to be married unto her, and the benefit shall not be small which thou shalt make by this voyage; for it shall be as profitable, as it shall be honourable unto thee; and therefore strain all the wits thou hast to bring this good purpose to pass. For besides that thou shalt be rewarded by God, for the soul which thou shalt gain, I for my part will, with many requitals, and those real, recompense the life which thou shalt give me by thy good diligence in this business, and if (exercising thy power with her,) it shall be my good hap to win her by thy intercession. Do not refuse to do me this favour, since thou canst do so much with her: And because there are so many ties upon thee, to induce thee hereunto, it is not fit that I should press thee any further, or be too importunate with thee. To whom, when he had ended his exhortation, Ozmin made him this answer:  
My very good Lord; The same reason, wherewith you seek to bind me, ought likewise to oblige you to believe, how much I desire that Daraxa should follow my Religion, which very earnestly, diverse, nay infinite times I have persuaded her unto. My desire is no other, than your own; and therefore I will use all diligence in this particular cause, as in a thing wherein I am so much interessed. But loving her betrothed friend, and my Master so dear as she does, to treat with her to turn Christian, were but to double passion in her, without any other fruit at all: For she hath some hopes yet alive in her, that Fortune may turn the wheel again, flattering herself with some accident or other, whereby in time she may come to enjoy her desire. This is all that I can yet learn from her, she is still harping upon this string, and (for aught that I can perceive) very constant in this conceit of hers. But that I may comply with that, which you command me, I shall (though I were sure my labour should be fruitless) return once more to treat with her in this kind; and when I have done, I will acquaint you with her answer. The Moor did not lie in any one word that he said, had he been rightly understood; but (not thinking on a thing so remote) Don Rodrigo gave credit, not to that which he truly, but to that he formally delivered. And so (though deceived) he had some confidence with him, and was not clean out of hope. For Quien de veras ama, Se-enganna, con desengannos: He that truly loves, is deceived with that, which ought to dis-deceive him.  
Ozmin (when Rodrigo was gone) remained so sad to see the open instance which was made to his own hurt, that he was ready through jealousy to run out of his wits. Which did so afflict him, that from that day forward you could never get a cheerful look from him, and making things impossible, seem possible unto him, he did wrestle and struggle with himself; imagining, that this new Competitor (being powerful in his own House and Country) might use some tricks and devices, wherewith to hinder his intent, being so solicitous as he was, and so earnest in the business. He feared again on the other side, lest she might be wrought to alter her former affection; for many batteries make a breach in the strongest walls; and with secret mines they are blown up, and laid level with the ground.  
Out of this jealousy of his, he discoursed in his thoughts of Tragical ends, and disastrous accidents, which presented themselves unto his fantasy, which he did not so much believe, as he did mightily fear, because he was a perfect Lover.  
Daraxa seeing how her dearest beloved had for many days together continued in this melancholy mood, was very desirous to know the cause of this his sadness: but she could not wring it from him, nor did he speak a word of that unto her, which had passed betwixt him and Don Rodrigo. She (poor Gentlewoman) knew not what to do, nor which way to work him to be merry; howbeit with sweet words, uttered from a daintier tongue, pleasant smiles, and a constant heart, much augmented by those fair eyes, whose warm tears did bedew her tender cheeks with those crystal waters which did slow from them, she softly breathed forth (having first sent forth many a sigh, as heralds of her sorrowful mind: these few words unto him.)  
Lord of my life and liberty; my betrothed, whom I honour and obey, what thing can there be of that force, (I being alive, and in your presence) that should thus to my hurt torment and grieve you? May my life peradventure be the price of your joy? or how will you be pleased to dispose of it, whereby my soul may be freed from this hell of sorrow, wherein for your sake I am tormented? Let the cheerful heaven of your countenance, scatter those clouds wherewith my heart is overcast, if I am able to do any thing with you; if the love which I bear you deserveth aught; if the grief wherein I am may move you to pity; if you will not that my life receive its burial in your secrecy, I beseech you to tell me the cause of your sadness. Here she stopped; for her tears had choked her utterance, sorrow working on them both, one and the same effect; for he could not answer her otherwise, then with the scalding tears of love, each striving with their own to dry up the others, seeming both to be one and the selfsame thing, as long as their tongues were thus tied, and the current of their speech stopped.  
Ozmin, with the oppression of his sighs, (for he closely smothered them) fearing (if he should vent them) to be overheard, did so long resist them, by returning them back again unto his soul; from whence they would have broken out their way, that he fell down into a swoon; and so deep an one, as that he lay for dead. Daraxa knew not what to do, nor how to fetch him again, nor which way to comfort him, nor could she conceive what might be the cause of this so great and sudden an alteration, having formerly been accustomed to show himself merry and cheerful. She was very busy in wiping his face, in drying his eyes, putting her fair hands upon them; after she had dipped a rich handkerchief, that she had about her in the water, embroidered with gold and silver, inter-woven with diverse other glorious colours, and scattered here and there with pearl, and other devices of wonderful both worth and workmanship. So much was she transformed into this pain of his; and her senses so wholly taken up in seeking to recover him, that had this fit continued but a little longer, Don Rodrigo might have found them little less than arm in arm; for Daraxa had his head leaning on her knee, and one side of his body folded in her Gown, when he first began to come to himself. Now when his Senses were come again into their proper places, and all was well, thinking to have taken his leave of her, Don Rodrigo on the nick, comes into the garden. Daraxa (though much troubled) came off as handsomely as she could, leaving through haste her curious handkerchief on the ground, which was quickly taken up by Ozmin, who presently had it in his eye.  
Now when she saw that Don Rodrigo drew nigh, she went her way, and left them two alone together: Rodrigo (when he saw the coast was clear) asked him what he had done in the business? He told him, (as he had at other times) that he found her so firm in her love to her betrothed friend, that she will not only not be won, (as you pretend) to be a Christian: but if she were so, yet for his sake, she would willingly turn Moor; so extreme is her own folly, the love of her Religion, and of her husband. I treated your business with her; and to you, because you attempt it, and to me, because I propose it, she beareth us both that hatred, that she is resolved, if ever I speak word thereof again, never any more to see me; and as for you, you see, she no sooner saw you, but she went her way. So that I would not have you weary out yourself in this suit, nor spend any more time in it; for I see it will be but in vain, and a hopeless piece of work. Don Rodrigo was strucken deeply into his dumps with this so resolute an answer, delivered with that sharpness, which made it the more sour and unfit for relish. From that time forward he began to suspect that Ozmin was rather in his prejudice, than profit, and did rather disadvantage, then advance his pretention. Howsoever he thought at least with himself, that though Daraxa might haply have given so distasteful a reply, yet it did ill become him to report it unto him, in that rough fashion as he did, making himself, as it were, master and ruler of the roast: but such impossible things in their encounter are Love and discretion; for evermore a man is so much the more confounded and troubled in himself, by how much the more he loveth and affecteth: hereupon did represent itself unto him that strict league of amity and friendship, which Daraxa reported to have been betwixt him and his old Master, he imagined, that love was still alive in him, and could not be persuaded, that the ashes of that fire were yet grown cold. With this conceit (which was reinforced by his passion) he was fully bend to put him out of the house, informing his father how unfitting it was; nay how dangerous to permit (where Daraxa was) such a one, as might entertain her in the Discourse of her former Love, still putting her in mind thereof, especially it being their Majesty's intent and purpose to have her turn Christian: which would be hard to do, as long as Ambrosio was there. Let us, Sir, (said he) make some trial by sundering them some few days one from another, and then we shall see what effect it will bring forth.  
Don Lewis did no whit mislike his son's council, and presently picking a quarrel, where no cause was, (for of great men we must not ask the reason of things; and a Captain with his soldiers will be bold now and then to make fifteen of two ●…ights) he dismissed him of his service, commanding him, that he should not so much as once dare to pass by the door. And he took him so on the sudden, that he could not take his leave of Daraxa. And so obeying his Master, feigning less sorrow, than what he felt, he removed his body from thence, for that pledge he could carry whither he listed) but for his soul, that abode still with her, in whose power it had formerly so long remained.   

THE ARGUMENT.  
Continuing the Story of the love of Ozmin and Daraxa, are recounted the troubles and griefs that befell them both: as also those public Feasts, that were made by diverse Knights and Gentlemen, for to glad and cheer up the disconsolate Daraxa: and of the valour which Ozmin in disguise and vnknowe, did perform in them.  
DAraxa seeing so sudden a change, began to suspect that his former sorrow had its birth from that new success; and now by the sequel assured herself it was so: whereupon adding one evil to another, sorrow to sorrow, and grief to grief, wanting the sight of her espoused Lord; albeit the poor Lady did dissemble it all that she could, yet this was that, which did most trouble her. Give them leave to weep, howl, sigh, cry, and talk, that find themselves afflicted: for albeit they do not therewith take away the burden of that pain which they endure, yet it doth lessen sorrow, and makes the load somewhat lighter. She was so deprived of all content, so heavily sad, and so bodily afflicted, that you might read her griefs not only in her face and countenance, but throughout all the course of her carriage. Our enamoured Moor would not change his estate and condition of life; for as he went clad before, the same stile he still continued, and in the habit of a day-Labourer, he followed his painful fortune: therein he had had good success, and he hoped the like with advantage. He daily followed his work hard, where there was aught to be got, going in this sort from place to place to prove his fortune, trying if by this means he could come to hear or hearken out any thing that might import him, or serve his turn concerning Daraxa: for no other end or interest in the world had he but this, to labour so hard as he did; for he had liberally to spend with a large hand for many days together, out of the means that he had brought from home in money and in jewels. But as well for that which hath been said, as also because he was well known in that habit, that he might have the freer licence wheresoever he came, and himself remain safe in his person under this disguise, lest his designs might otherwise be overthrown, he continued his wont wear.  
Those young Canallero's that served Daraxa, knowing the favour that she bore to Ozmin, and that he was now no longer servant in Don Lewis his house, every one did covet him for himself and his own ends, and happy was he, that could make the first purchase; so general was their desire to have him theirs.  
But Don Alonso de Cuniga got the start of all the rest, being a Gentleman of that City, one that was borne to a great estate, young, gallant, and rich, and one that was confident, that others want, and his wealth, by the help of Ambrosio, should carry the business. He commanded him to be sent for, entertained him in his service, did him many known good turns, made him more advantageous proffers, gave him many kind and loving words, and in conclusion, a kind of friendship was begun between them, (if any such thing may be found between master and man:) notwithstanding, inasmuch as man is compatible, it is commonly called by the ●…ame of Privancie or Inwardness; whereinto men grow by some deserving service, with whom having run over some passages, he came in the end to discover his desire unto him, promising him great rewards: all which was ●…ut an opening unto him of his old wounds, and a ripping up of his sores, to make them greater than before: if he were jealous before of one, now he had two Corrivals, and within a short time after, he knew of many which his Master had discovered unto him, and which way they marched, and the means whereby they thought to prevail: but for his own part he neither sought, nor desired any furtherance of others, save only his good intelligence, believing (as he verily persuaded himself) that solely his intercession should be sufficient to effect it.  
I am not able to imagine, much less to express the grief which he conceived, seeing himself now the second time to be made a Bawd to his own wife: and how fitting notwithstanding it was for him to past▪ thorough all these pikes with a discreet kind of dissimulation.  
He entertained him with good words, for fear lest it might happen unto him, as it did with Don Rodrigo; and if he should carry himself violently and inconsiderately with the rest with whom he had to deal with, he should find his hands too full, and give himself a great deal of trouble, and in the end lose all, and not come to the knowledge of any thing concerning his bestbeloved. And if we will peaceably enjoy the end of our desires, we must put on Patience and sufferance in the achievement of them.  
He bore him fairly in hand, albeit his heart was all on fire, his various thoughts gave him many a shrewd battle, and assaulted him on every side, galling him in such cruel manner, that like a Bull enraged, he knew not how to help himself, nor whither to fly for succour, nor behind whom to run, nor could he find any comfort for to ease those intolerable torments which he endured. The Hare was single, the Grayhounds many, and all light-footed, they had certain Falcons too in their favour, that for all their high place, would not refuse to stoop to their Lure, for hope of reward: to these I may add a number of she-friends and acquaintance, coming to visit and banquet with Daraxa, who too too usually set fire to the honour of many a fair Lady, and blow the coals of Lust in many Noble houses of good report and honest fame: many Ladies and Gentlewomen enter (for such they are in appearance) and all forsooth under the fair name of Uisites; some, out of the difficulty they find at home in their own houses to effect their purpose; others, to work deceit, and to bring innocent Dames, by one device or other into the same net, wherein themselves have been caught. Of these kind of creatures there are great store, the world is full of them, and the practice too too common. Nay, out of the principallest and gravest sort of Ladies, the Devil hath not been careless in working them to become pot-lids, and covers to these boiling vessels of concupiscence. These are those silver Plates, that cover many a sweet morsel, after which your Gallants so eagerly long to lick their lips, and are so sharp set. All these things did he fear, and many more, but most of all Don Rodrigo, to whom both himself, and the rest of the Rivals bore great hatred for his false arrogancy, whereof he cunningly made use, to have them thereby to desist from their purpose: and the more to daunt and amate them, he made them all believe, or at least would fain have them so to think, that he was the only man that was like to carry Daraxa, as having the best means and opportunity, (besides his own desires) to grow into her Love and favour. Hereupon they spoke courteously unto him, but in their hearts they wished him hanged; they poured honey to him out of their mouths, leaving rancour and poison in their breasts; they saluted him kindly, but cursed his very bowels and entrails, desiring to see them burst in a thousand pieces; they smiled upon him, but as dogs do grin at Wasps, they longed to have a snap at him: this is the common fashion now in Court, and more particularly amongst those of the greatest rank and quality.  
Now let us return again to Daraxa, and speak of the torments which she suffered; of the care which she took to know what was become of her dearest Love, whither he was gone, what he did, how it was with him in his health, how he spent his time, and whether he had got him some other new Mistress; and this did trouble her most: for albeit mothers have likewise some sorrow for the absence of their children, yet notwithstanding the case is not alike: for they only fear the life of their child, but a wife the loss of her husband's love, lest some other woman with fawning blandishments, and smooth flatteries should draw his affection from her. What days so sad as those, what nights so tedious, as for a woman to weave and un-weave her thoughts, like Penelope's Web, with the chaste desire of her beloved Ulysses?  
I shall utter much by being silent in a passage of this nature, for to paint forth such a sorrow as this, small was that cunning, which a famous Painter used upon the death of a young damosel, who after he had painted her dead, stretched out to the life lying in her Coffin, he placed round about the Coarse, her parents, her brethren, her kinsfolks, her friends, her acquaintance, and her household servants in their proper places; and with that grief which was fitting for every one of them in their several degrees: but when he came to her father and mother, he left off to finish their faces, giving every one licence and free liberty to pourtrayt forth such a sorrow, according as he himself should there with be affected; for neither words nor pencil were any way able to manifest a parent's love, or the sorrow that they conceived, save only some actions, which we have read of Heathen people. The same course must I take. The pencil of my rude tongue, shall be but a gross unhewen stick, fit only to form blots and blurs; and therefore it shall be wisdom to leave it to the discretion of the hearer: and to him that shall understand History, to refer it to his consideration in what manner such passions as these are to be apprehended. So that every man may measure it by his own imagination, judging others hearts by their own.  
Daraxa was so surcharged with sorrow, that her outward remonstrances manifested her inward afflictions. Don Lewis seeing her so wholly taken up with melancholy, as also Don Rodrigo his son, both of them for to cheer her up, ordained certain feasts; as that of the running of Bulls, and their juego de cannas: And because the City was so well fitted for these pastimes, it shortly after took effect. Now those that were Actors in these sports, had every one of them his several device, wrought in different sorts of silks and colours, expressing therein their diverse passions; one, his Despair; another, his Hope; this, his Captivity; that, his jealousy; some their joy, some their Sorrow, and some their being in Love, and the like. All which, and more too, did meet in poor Daraxa.  
As soon as Ozmin knew that this appointed feast was to be performed, and that his Master was one of the number he thought with himself, that it were not time ill spent to see his Mistress, by giving some proof of his valour, and setting himself forth that day amongst the rest. Which being come, just as the Bulls began to rune, he mounted upon his horse, both he and it being in every point very well fitted. His face was scarved with watchet Taffeta, that he might avoid the common eye, and his Horse had his eyes veiled with a bend of black. He feigned himself to be a stranger; his servant went before him, bearing in his hand a goodly strong Lance, he rounded the whole place, beholding many things of admiration which were therein: but above all, the beauty of Daraxa did outshine the rest, as the day doth the night; and in her presence all the other Dames were but darkness. He placed himself right over against her window; whither he was no sooner come, but he saw the place much altered, every man flying as fast as he could from a fierce Bull, which at that instant they had let out of the Paddock; it was a Bull of Tarifa well grown, cunning in the carriage of his head, and as stout as a Lion, and as full of rage. Who was no sooner let forth, but giving two or three nimble bounds, put himself into the midst of the place, making himself Master of all that Round, to the great affright and terror of all that were there. He turned his frizzled front from side to side, whilst diverse darts were thrown at him, which he did easily shake off, and used such art, that he would not suffer them to gall him in the flank, or other his inferior parts: and this he did avoid, by using certain light friskals, which he performed so dexterously as they could not touch him. Now, there was not a man in all the place that durst to encounter him a horseback, and those that were afoot, durst not expect his coming, nor look him in the face, though he were never so far from them. So that for very fear they left him all alone, and not one man save only Ozmin, and his servant, was to be seen any thing near him in all that circuit of ground.  
The Bull, as if he had rode on the wings of the wind, ran with all the speed he could, directly towards this Gentleman; so that he was forced to betake himself suddenly to his Lance, which he had not taken into his hand, when the Bull was first let loose, and lifting up his right arm, bearing his Lance for his best advantage, whereat was fastened Daraxa's Handkerchief which she left behind her in the Garden (as you have heard heretofore) with a graceful kind of activeness, and a gallant aim in the carriage of his arm, he charged home upon him; and making way by his neck, he ran his Lance quite through his body, which made no stay till the point thereof had nailed the hoof of one of his farther feet to the ground, leaving him there for dead, without any motion in the world; there only remaining in his hand the short broken truncheon of his Lance, which he casting away from him in a careless fashion, he victoriously, but modestly quitted the place.  
Daraxa was much rejoiced in the sight of him: for when he first made his entrance, she knew him by his man, who had sometimes also been her servant; as likewise by his handkerchief, which after the Bull was slain, he wore about his arm. All that were there present, with a general murmur, remained full of admiration, giving him due commendation, in clearing the happiness of the stroke, and the strength of this unknown Knight. Nor was any thing else in the mouths of the multitude, than the discoursing of the brave performance of this business, delivering the manner thereof one to another; and though they had all seen how it was, yet every one spoke thereof afresh, and it seemed to them as a dream; some in wonder clapping their hands; others highly extolling his valour; one speaks with his fingers; another stands amazed; a third blesses himself; a fourth lifts up his arm; a fifth acts it with his hand, all of them having their mouths and their eyes full of joy; a sixth bows down his body, and suddenly leaps up again in the air; some bend the brow, and some being ready to burst with content, make graceful Matachines', with many other pretty Antike-gestures.  
All which to Daraxa seemed so many degrees of glory▪ Ozmin withdrew himself out of the City into certain back-Gardens, out of which he formerly came; and (leaving his Horse, and changing his clothes, with his Sword under his arm, returning in the habit of Ambrosio) he came to the place; taking his Stand where he might see what he most desired, and was seen again by her, who loved him more than her own life. They took great pleasure in beholding each other; howbeit Daraxa was very fearful, lest some misfortune might befall him, standing there afoot amongst the multitude: she made signs unto him, that he should get up upon a Scaffold: but the made show that he did not understand her meaning, standing there still, till the Bulls began to run.  
By this time the evening was far spent, and with the approaching of the night, those that were to sport at the juego de Cannae, made their entrance in manner following:  
First of all, the Trumpets, Fifes, and Drums, accompanied with diverse other sorts of Music, presented themselves, being clad in rich Liveries of sundry colours; after whom followed the Azemilas, or Sumpter Mules, laden with bundles of Canes.  
The Companies that were to maintain this sport, were likewise eight, answering to the number of their bundles of Canes. Every one had his Sumpter Cloth of Velvet cast over the Canes, richly embroidered with the Arms of their Master in Silk and Gold, the Garrotes belonging thereunto, being all of silver.  
After these, entered two hundred and forty Gennets, richly furnished for 48. Knights, which were five a piece for every man, besides that which came in with the Canes, which made up fix in the whole. But they that entered first on the right hand, came in two Files, opposing themselves against the adverse part. The first two horses (which as if they had been yoked together, ran on in an even and equal course) were assisted by five others of a side, bearing their Owners Targets at the Arson of their Saddles, offering their fairest show to the eyes of the Spectators; wherein were depainted their Emblems and their Mottoes, set forth with fair Scarves, rich Ribboning, Tassels and Buttons of the best both silk and gold, with sundry other borderings and costly embroideries, every man suiting himself according to his own humour, and particular fancy. Most of the Horses had their Pettrels stuck full with Bells, all their other furniture and trappings being very rich and curious, they had sumptuous head-stals of gold and silver, set with precious Stones, as thick as they could stand each by other: it shall suffice, for the better amplifying of what I have spoken, that they were in seville, where there is no small store of them, nor make little esteem of such things; and that these Knights and Gentlemen were Lovers, Competitors, rich, and young; and the Lady for whom they strove, present amongst them. These entered in at one gate of the Place, and when they had given it a round, they issued out at another near unto that by which they entered. So that the one did not hinder the other either in their coming in, or their going forth: and thus they passed in very good equipage as could be desired.  
The Horses having quit the place, these Gallants entered in again, the whole eight squadrons running two and two together, well attired themselves, with their Liveries attending upon them (as before hath been delivered) and with their Lances in their hands, which they strongly brandishing, made the stock and point thereof seem to meet together, whose nimble shaking caused every single Lance to appear to be four. Presently upon this, encouraging their proud Jennet with their loud shouts and cries, and wounding their Satin sides with their sharp Spurs, you would have thought them rather to fly, then run; their Masters, and they, seeming but one joint-body, so closely did they keep themselves in their seats. Nor is this any Hyperbole, or over-indearing what was done, since that in all parts almost of Andaluzia; as seville, Cordóua and Xerez de la frontera, they bring forth their children (as it is commonly said) from the Cradle, to the Saddle, as in other parts they accustom them to carry Canes. And it is a wonder in such tender years, to see such hard steels, and such dexterity and agility of body. For to do these things, is an ordinary exercise amongst them. They gave a turn about the Place, running to and fro from all the four parts thereof: and then leaving the place for a while (to recover fresh breath) and to give some pausing to the Spectators) they entered again, as before, (changing still their Horses) with their Targets on their arms, and their Canes in their hands.  
Then they divided themselves by six and six (as the manner there is) and in a handsome well-ordered fashion began their sport. Wherein having continued for the space of a quarter of an hour, or thereabouts, some other Gentlemen thrust in amongst them to part the quarrel, beginning with their fresh Horses a well-prepared skirmish, both the one and the other from all parts of the Place, ranging and marshalling themselves in such good array, observing such due both time and measure, that it seemed a very fine contrived dance: the beholding whereof, as it held the people in suspense by possessing all their faculties; so did it give them singular content. But this sport was interrupted, and wholly disordered by the sudden approach of a furious Bull, which they had let loose from the other side of the place. Those that were a horseback, changing their Canes into javelins, (which they had ready at hand) began to cast themselves into a ring, seeking to shut him in on every side: but the Bull stood stock still in the midst of them, not knowing whom he should first set upon: he cast his eyes upon them all, tearing up the earth with his forked feet; and whilst every man stood in this manner expecting his chance; one bold Rogue amongst the rest comes athwart him, provoking him to fury with his tottered Cloak, and his shrill shouts, but little needed any such instigations: for the Bull presently thereupon, like one mad with rage, forsaking the horsemen, made after him with all the eagerness he could, who took himself to his heels as fast as they were able to carry him; he flies from the Bull, the Bull after him, and never gives him over, forcing him to take Sanctuary under Daraxa's window, just there where Ozmin then stood; who deeming it a place of privilege for this fearful young fellow, and reputing it a kind of injury offered to his Lady and Mistress, if there he should receive any ill entertainment, as likewise to himself, if this poor Rogue should suffer for his coming thither; as well out of this respect, as also for that he was incensed against those, who strove to get the honour of the day, and to win grace by doing something bravely in her presence, breaking through the thickest of all the people, he went out against the Bull, who forsaking him he formerly followed, made directly towards himself. All that beheld this, thought him either foolish or mad, that should so desperately put himself forth to encounter with a Beast of that courage and fierceness, looking every minute, when he should take him up between his Horns; and tossing him up aloft, break every bone of him in pieces. All of them with loud voices cried out unto him, Take heed, for the passion of God, if you love your life, look to yourself; for if you had a thousand lives, they are all in danger of losing. You may by this time imagine with yourselves, what a poor taking his Spouse was in: for mine own part I know not what to say therein, save that she was as a woman bereft of her proper Soul, and was become an insensible body, through too much Sense. The Bull bowed down his head for to fasten his blow upon him, but this was but an humbling himself to the sacrifice, for he never came to lift it up again. For the Moor writhing his body aside, and with extraordinary quickness vnsheathing his sword, acting it all in an instant, he gave him such a cut in the neck, close unto the horn, that parting the bones of the brain in funder, he left his head hanging by his windpipe, and there he lay for dead.  
This done (as though he had done nothing) sheathing his sword, he presently leaves the Place. But the common rout that love novelties, and hunger as well to hear, as to tell strange tales, (besides many horsemen, and footmen, that began to flock about him, to know who he was) pressed so hard on every side to see him, and so thronged him both before and behind, that they had almost stifled him, being scarce able to wag amongst them. In the Windows, and on the Scaffolds, began a new murmur of admiration, like unto the former, there being a general joy amongst them all, for that this thing had happened at the conclusion of these feasts, so that nothing else was talked of, save only those two wonderful accidents of that Evening, doubting which were the greater of the two; and taking in good part this second course which he set before them, he left their palate well pleased, and their mouths seasoned with a good relish, to recommend such brave actions in perpetual remembrance to all succeeding ages.   

THE ARGUMENT.  
The Story continues of these two illustrious Lovers, Ozmin and Daraxa; wherein is declared her sorrow, and his grief, with diverse other accidents; and how for to comfort and cheer up Daraxa, there was a Tourneyment, or just performed by many Knights, & Gentlemen of worth, wherein Ozmin bore away the bell, and had the glory of the day: yet all this could not make Daraxa merry.  
THis day Daraxa had (as you have seen) her pleasures interrupted, her joys intermixed with griefs, her delights false, and her contents unsavoury: For scarce had arrived the comfort which she took in seeing that which she most desired, but on the sudden it was overtaken with fear of danger: it did likewise torment her, to think with herself, that she knew not how, nor upon what occasion to see him once again, nor how she might feed her fill, satisfying the hunger of her eyes, on the delicate food of her sweet desire. And because Pleasure appears not, where Sorrow is in place, it could not be discerned in her countenance, whether these Feasts had given her that contentment, for which they were intended: As well for this, as for that these Gallants were somewhat more heated then before, being set on fire with that beautiful fairness, and fair beauty of Daraxa, desirous more than ever to entertain her with pleasures, and that fitting occasion might be offered to come again to the sight of her; in this their pride of heart, and heat of blood, they ordained a Tourney, wherein Don Rodrigo was to be the Challenger.  
And some few nights after, the Challenge was published with great store of musical Instruments, and bright-burning Torches, that all the streets, together with the great Place, seemed to be all on a flame: in this solemn manner they set up the Challenge, where it might best be seen and read of all that passed by.  
There was a place for Tourneyment near unto the Gate, which they call the gate of Cordova, adjoining to the wall, (which I have sometimes seen and well known, though now decayed) where the Knights and Gentlemen went to exercise Arms, and to prove their Lances: there Don Alonso de Zunniga, being but a new beginner, did likewise practise amongst the rest, desirous to show himself in this Tourney, for the great affection which he bore to Daraxa. He was afraid he should rather lose then get honour in this Tourneyment, nor did he stick in all Companies publicly to say as much; not because he wanted either strength, or courage; but because in all things whatsoever, Use makes masteries: for they that have only the bare Theoric, and naked speculation of things, be they never so skilful in this their contemplative knowledge, they err in their aim, be they never so confident in their undertake. And in this, of all other he was most unwilling to err, the thought whereof did much afflict him, yet made him withal more careful how to behave himself in the business.  
Ozmin on the other side desired to have as few enemies as he could, and because he might not Tourney, nor thought it possible to be admitted into the number, he would fain have somebody to enter the Lists, that might overthrow Don Rodrigo's pride; for that he was more jealous of him, then of all the rest: more to effect this his purpose, than any mind that he had therein to do his Master service, he spoke thus unto him:  
Sir, if you be pleased to grant me free liberty of speech, I may haply deliver that unto you, which may be of some profit unto you in this so honourable an occasion. Don Alonso dreaming of nothing less, then that he would treat with him touching such Gentlemanlike exercises as these, but rather supposing that he would entertain him with some discourse touching his Love, said unto him; You are too slow in unfolding yourself, considering the haste I have to hear thee, and the longing desire which I have to know what it is thou wilt say unto me.  
Sir, (quoth he) I find, that of force you must be present at this famous Tourneyment, the noise whereof, as it hath filled every man's ear, so it is now all their talk: nor do I wonder, that where the reward of a glorious name lies at stake, men go on fearfully, out of their great desire that they have to gain it. I that am your poor creature, will do you the best service I can, by instructing and enabling you in that which you are desirous to attain unto in the exercise of Horsemanship, and the use of Arms, and that in a short time; no way doubting but my instructions shall bring forth good fruits of what I promise. Let not this seem strange unto you, nor let my youth scandal my skill; for I must tell you, they being things whereunto I have even been bred, they are familiar unto me, and I dare boldly boast my knowledge in them. Don Alonso was much joyed in hearing him, and giving him many thanks for this his voluntary offer of his love and service: he told him; If thou performest what thou speakest, thou shalt bind me much unto thee. Ozmin made answer; He that promiseth that, which he cannot perform, is as wide of his word, as he is from the work; and means nothing but deceit; but he that stands in those terms, as I do now, where tricks cannot serve the turn, he must of force, (unless he be a fool) accomplish more in deeds, than he promiseth in his words.  
Take order, Sir, that Arms be provided for your own person, and mine, and then you shall quickly know, that by how much the slower I have been in my offer, by so much the sooner I will bring it to effect: freeing myself from this debt, but not from that obligation which I have to serve you. Don Alonso presently gave order to have all things necessary provided, and when they were fitted for the purpose, they went forth to a place a part, where that day, those that followed till the determined time of the Tourneying, they spent their time in the exercises which that solemn Feast required. So that in a very short time, Alonso learned to keep his seat so sure, as if he had been locked to his Saddle, bearing his Lance with so graceful a carriage, and cowching it in his wrist with so comely a deportment, as if he had many years been practised in the Feats of Arms: whereupon were very good helps, his clean proportion of body, accompanied with a smart and nimble kind of strength, which gave no small graceful success to his performance.  
From his dexterity in vaulting on his horse, passing lightly from one Saddle to another, from his directions in his teaching, and from the shape, proportion, fashion of his body, from his behaviour, besides the garb of Ozmins' language, Don Alonço began to think with himself, that it was impossible this man's name should be Ambrosio, much less a Labourer, unless perhaps he laboured with his wretched Fortunes, whereof he seemed to make show. He discovered by his actions the lively splendour of some principal person nobly descended, who by some various success of Fortune, wandered up and down in this disguise: and not being able to contain himself in quiet, till he were rid of this doubt, taking him one day aside, he spoke thus in secret unto him:  
Ambrosio, it is not long that you have served me, but in this short time you have been with me, you have bound me much unto you: your virtues, and your noble kind of carriage speak what you are; and therefore it is in vain to seek any longer to conceal yourself: under the course veil of these base and vile clothes, and under this poor habit, which thou now wearest, lies hid a nobler office, and a nobler name, (like jewels lap't up in leather-Cases.) I now know by manifest signs which I have noted and observed in thee, that thou dost, (or to speak more properly) hast deceived me: for, that a poor Labourer, whose person you are willing to represent, should be so general (especially being so young) in all kind of knowledge, but more particularly in the exercise of Arms and Horsemanship, is a thing almost (let me call in that word again, and say) beyond belief. I have seen in thee, and plainly perceived, that under these hard clods of earth, and muddy shells, is enclosed the finest gold, and the purest oriental Pearls the world can afford. What I am, it is already well known unto thee; what thou art, I am yet to seek; howbeit (as I say) the causes are known by their effects, and that thou canst not any longer conceal thyself from me. I swear unto thee by the faith which I have in jesus Christ, and by the Order of Knighthood which I profess and maintain, to be thy both faithful and secret friend, keeping that under the Lock of Silence, which thou shalt deposit in my bosom, assisting thee in all that I am able, both in my purse and person. Give me an account of thy fortune, that I may in some sort cancel the debt, wherein I stand bound unto thee for those real courtesies, which I have received from thee. Hereunto Ozmin thus replied:  
So strongly (Sir) have you conjured me; so squeezed the Grapes in the winepress, that you must of force wring that from my Soul, which with any other straining in the world, save by these the Presses of your Gentlemanlike proceeding, were impossible to be drawn from me. Complying therefore with that which you command me, putting assured confidence as well in your person, as your promise, I shall give you to understand, that I am a Gentleman; my native Soil Saragoça in Arragon; my name jayme Uives, which I borrowed from my father; for so likewise was he called. It is not many years since, that following an occasion, (it being the nature of youngmen to be in action) I fell into the Moors hands, and was made a slave, by a subtle kind of treachery, and false play of certain feigned friends; which, whether it were occasioned through their envy, or my misfortune, is too large a tale to tell you. It shall suffice that I deliver unto you, that being in their power, they sold me to a Renegado, one that had renounced his Christianity; who, how he did use me, it is enough to have named his condition. He led me along with him, till he had brought me to Granada, where a Gentleman bought me, called Zegri, one of the principallest persons in that City. This man had a son of the same years with myself, whose name was Ozmin, who because he was the very picture of myself, as well in age, as in stature, feature, favour, condition, and all things else whatsoever: for that I did so truly resemble him, he was the more desirous to buy me, and to use me the better, that it might breed the greater fastness and friendship between us. I taught him all I could or knew, according as myself had learned of my friends at home in mine own Country, which was the more perfected in me by the frequent practice of such like exercises, being of that common use with us, as nothing more. From whence I reaped no small benefit; for, by conversing with my Master's son, my knowledge was thereby increased, which otherwise I might haply have forgot: and experience teacheth us, That men by teaching, come to learn. Hence grew to be refined both in the son and father, that affection which they bore unto me; trusting me with their persons and wealth; so much did they rely upon my truth and honesty.  
This young Gentleman was a Suitor to Daraxa, daughter to the Alcalde de Baça; (my Mistress, whom you so much adore:) the marriage was treated of, and upon the point to take effect; for the Articles of agreement were already drawn, and no doubt the match ere this had been concluded, had not the wars hindered it, and the present siege that was then laid unto it, whereby they were forced to defer it till some fitter time.  
Baça was shortly after yielded up, by occasion whereof, this intended Marriage hung in suspense. And because I was then Dominus Factotum, and the only man in favour and trust with them, I went and came with presents, and other inter-changeable kindnesses, from the one City to the other: it being my good fortune to be in Baça at that time, when it was rendered up; and so I recovered my liberty, together with many other Captives. I would fain have returned home to mine own Country, but I wanted money: In the end I had notice, that a Kinsman of mine was abiding in this City. Two things did concur to draw me hither; the desire I had to see this place, (being so noble and magnificent a City) and the supplying of my wants, the better to perform my journey. I continued here a great while, without finding him, that I sought for: for hearing no news of him, but such as were uncertain, it turned to my utter un-doing; by finding that which I did not seek for, as in such cases it commonly falleth out. I went wand'ring up and down the City, and having little money, and much care, it was my hap to meet with a rare piece of Nature, an admirable Beauty; (at least in my eye, howsoever in other it might be otherwise) but that's all one, being that is only fair, which most pleaseth. To her I delivered up all my faculties, leaving to myself not one of them to live with me: I made now no more any reckoning of myself, nor possessed any thing which was not hers. This fair workmanship is Donna Elvira, sister to Don Rodrigo, and daughter to Don Lewis de Padilla, my old Master. And because counsel (as the saying is) springeth from necessity, seeing myself so wholly lost in her love, and not finding any means to manifest my affection, together with the quality of my person, I held it my best course to write Letters unto my father of the recovery of my liberty, and that I was indebted in a thousand double Ducats; and that he would be pleased to supply me with so much moneys for my relief. Which business succeeded well; for having sent me the whole Sum, and a servant with a horse for my journey, I put myself into good clothes, and fitted myself with all things necessary according to mine own mind. The two or three first days I began to make that street my walk, giving many a turn at all hours of the day, but could never have the happiness to see her. Now, from my continual walking that way, I began by some suspicious people to be observed, who seemed to have a watchful eye over me; wherefore, for the avoiding of Spies, I withdrew myself from my wont walk, and betook myself to a more retired course of life.  
My servant (to whom I imparted my Love-businesses) thinking upon some course for me, advised me (as being elder and better experienced then myself) finding a certain piece of Work going forward in my Lord's house, to suit myself like a day-Labourer, and to change my name, that I might not be known, and so rank myself amongst the rest, that are hired to dig and carry away the rubbish from the Mason's work. I began to consider with myself, what might happen thereupon; but because Love over comes all difficulties, and Death is too weak an adversary to withstand its force, all fear was laid aside, every thing seemed easy unto me, I put on a resolution to entertain his advice, and so I did accordingly. At that time there befell me an unexpected accident, which was this; When the Work was finished, they received me into the house to be their Gardener. Then, & never till then, was that happy day that I long looked for: my Moon was now come to her Full; and I was now climbing to the height of my good fortune: for the very first day that I supplied that place, and had but newly set foot within the garden, I luckily met with Daraxa; she wondered to see me there, and I no less to behold her. We gave an account each to other of our lives, relating our mutual misfortunes; she recounting hers, and I mine; not sticking to tell her, how far I was in love with her friend, and in what fast Fetters she held my heart: entreating her withal, that since she had such clear knowledge both of my parents and self, and how nobly I was descended, she would be pleased to favour my pretention, and to work so with her by her good intercession, that I might come (by the holy Rite of Marriage) to enjoy the fruit of my hopes. She promised she would, and did (I assure myself) all that in her lay to accomplish my desire. But because Fortune was evermore too too niggardly-handed towards me, when these our tender loves (like young Plants) began to gather a little strength, and were in the way to shoot up higher; the sprigs being rend off, the bud was blasted with a sharp Easterly wind, and some malicious Worm lay gnawing at the root, till at last it withered to nothing, and was quite consumed: for I was on the sudden banished the house, not knowing why, nor wherefore; falling thus from the highest top of happiness, to the lowest depth of misery. He that with the stroke of a Lance killed the first Bull, he that with the edge of his sword made the other fall dead at his foot, was myself. She saw me well enough, and knew me too, and was not a little glad of it, which I did plainly read in her looks, and her eyes did express it to the life. And in this occasion (if it were possible) I would likewise strive to make some notable proof for to please my Mistress, who shall eternize my actions, by giving the world to understand who I am, and at what valuation I ought to be rated amongst the rest. My inability to execute this my desire, makes me even ready to burst with grief; and if I could purchase it with my blood, I would willingly let lose the Sluices of my veins to obtain my wished end. Thus (Sir) you see, I have freely laid open unto you the whole success of my love, I have given you a true account of it, there remaining nothing to myself in the reckoning, save a gross sum of disgraces. And with that word he stopped.  
Don Alonso, who listened earnestly all this while unto him, when his ears were let loose (for tother's tongue had tied them to his mouth) threw his arms about his neck, clasping him close unto him with straight embracements: Whilst Ozmin in the mean while strove to kiss his hands, but he would not suffer him so to do, saying; These hands and arms are to be employed in thy service, that they may thereby deserve to gain thine. It is no time now to use compliments, nor to alter as yet the courses you have hitherto held, seeing your own will is not in disposition to do otherwise. As for the Tourneyment, let that never trouble your thoughts, for you shall enter in with the rest, and doubt you not of it, for it shall be so; therefore pluck up your spirits, and set your heart at rest. Ozmin once more made offer to kiss his hands, humbling his knee on the ground. Don Alonso did the like, making many proffers of prevention: so forcibly did this new bond of friendship tie them each to other. Thus they passed in large conversation the rest of those days that remained, till the very time and hour, wherein the Tourneyment was to be performed.  
I told you before, how that Don Rodrigo for his great arrogancy, was secretly misliked by most of these Gallants. And therefore Don Alonso thought with himself that he had now met with that he desired. For jayme Viues entering into the Tourney, he was well assured, that he would eclipse his honour, and beat down his pride. Ozmin for his part likewise did desire it as much. And before the hour of arming was come, that he might see Daraxa enter the place, he walked up and down there a while, wondering to see it so richly adorned: the Hangings of Cloth of Gold and of Silk, were such and so many, as are unable to be expressed; such variety was there in the colours; such curiosity in the windows; such beauty in the Ladies; such richness in their dress, and their clothes; such concourse of all sorts of Gallants, that all being put together, seemed to be one inestimable jewel; and every particular by itself, a precious Stone set therein. The Tiltyard, which divided the Place into two equal parts, ran quite athwart the midst of it; and in a convenient place was a Scaffold set up for the judges, right over against the which were the windows appointed for Daraxa and Donna Elvira, who upon two white Palfreys, their furniture being black Velvet set with silver O's, and suitably frindged, entered well attended: Who after they had rounded the Place, took their Seats. Where Ozmin leaving her, hasted away, because anon after, the Challengers were to enter; who within a little space made their arrival, wonderful well set forth, and in very good equipage. The Hoboys, the Trumpets, and other instruments of Music sounded without ceasing, till they were seated in their places. Afterwards entered the Defendants, and Don Alonso was one of the first; who having performed his three courses, and those singular well (that few did better) he presently returned home.  
Having before obtained licence for a Cavaleere, a friend of his, whom he expected from Xeres de la frontera, Ozmin in the mean while attending his coming. They came in both together to the place; and Alonso being his Padrino, presented him unto them. The Moors Arms were all black, his Horse suitable, without any plume in his Helmet; instead whereof with great curiosity, he had made a Rose of Daraxa's Handkerchief, which was an assured token, whereby she might know him. He put himself in his posture, and as good luck would have it, he was to run his first Lance against one of the Challengers Abettors: The signal was given, they made their Career, Ozmin hits his Adversary on the Beaver, where he broke his Lance; and giving him a counterbuff with the Truncheon of his Staff, he removed him from his Saddle, and fell with that stroke to the ground over his horse crupper, but he had no other harm, save what he suffered with the weight of his Armour. For the two last courses, Don Rodrigo put himself forth, who lighted with his first Lance on the left arm of the Moor, near unto the shoulder, remaining wounded by him in the pouldrons on the right side, where he broke his staff in three pieces. With the last Don Rodrigo mist and Ozmin broke his near the sight of his Helmet, where he left behind him a great splinter of his Lance; so that it was generally thought, that he had shrewdly wounded him; but his Helmet defended him so well, that he had no great harm.  
The Moor having broken his three Lances, went his way wonderfully joyed with his Victory; but much more Don Alonso who had brought him as his Champion into the field, and could not find any place large enough to entertain his joy. They quitted the Place, and went home to his house to disarm himself, suffering no man else to see his face. And putting on his ordinary apparel, he secretly went out at a postern door on the backside of the house, returning to behold his dear Daraxa, and to see that which passed in the Tiltyard. He had gotten so near unto his Mistress, that they might in a manner have shaken hands: they looked steadily each on other, but he evermore bore his eyes sadly, and with a heavy cheer; but she beyond all degrees of sadness, supposing that the cause of his sorrow might be, that she had not cheered him with some gracious cast of her eye. Nor could she tell what to think, so much was she amazed, to see him Tilt in black both Horse and Armour, being it is a sign amongst them of evil luck. All this put together, wrought in her a most deep melancholy, and continued so extremely passionate therein, and was so surcharged with sorrow, that the sports being scarce ended, her heart trembling in her body, she left her window, and hastened home. They which did accompany her, did much marvel that she went away no better pleased, seeming to take no contentment in what was done, and withal began to murmur and mutter amongst themselves, every one suspecting that, which his own malice did suggest unto him.  
Don Lewis, like a wise Gentleman, as oft as he heard any reasoning thereof, spoke still in her excuse; the like he did with his sons that Evening, when he found them grumbling at her carriage, telling them that an afflicted soul weeps in the midst of mirth, and that there is not any thing that can minister matter of joy and gladness to man or woman, that is absent from those, whom they best affect. Good things are so much the more esteemed, by how much the more we enjoy them with known persons, and our particular acquaintance.  
Towards strangers, there may (no doubt) be many intertainments given to move pleasure and delight; but (alas) they have no feeling of them; their thoughts are otherwise taken up, and in them the increase of sorrow is so much the more, by how much in others they see the greater joy. I blame her not for it, nor do I think it a thing so strange; but rather imagine it to have proceeded from her great prudence, than any dislike she had of our sports, and do merely attribute it to her grave and sober behaviour; whereas the contrary would have argued too much lightness, and an vnsettled kind of carriage, which imputation, women that prise their virtue and goodness, study to avoid. Besides, she is far from father and mother, and from her bestbeloved; and (though free in her usage) yet a Captive in her condition, and that in a strange Country, not knowing how to remedy herself, nor when she shall find the means. Let every man examine his own bosom, let him but make her case his own, and then he will tell me another tale, and ingenuously confess, that he should find himself affected, just as she is now. And in doing otherwise, is (as it is with him that is in health) to bid the sick to eat and be well.  
This discourse having passed in secret amongst them, they treated afterwards in public of the Zerezano, how bravely he had behaved himself that day; and how (albeit they desired much to know who he was) they could never get any more out of Don Alonso, than what he told them at first, and they believed it was true. Daraxa's melancholy increased daily more & more, but the cause thereof none could guess aright: they were all wide of the mark, none came near the Butt: of all that shot their bolts; some fell too short, and some flew over. All did judge amiss, inventing in the mean time all the entertainments their wits could devose to give her content: but should they have broken their brains in the study thereof, they had never been nearer their purpose: for she was as far from being capable of the delights they devised for her, as they were from entering within the Circle of her desires.   

THE ARGUMENT.  
Continuing the Story of the noble loves of these two disconsolate Lovers, it is now recounted how Don Lewis, for to cheer up the gentle Daraxa, brought her to a pleasant Village, whither Ozmin repairing, was set upon by a company of Clowns. And in the defence of himself he slew four of them outright, and wounded many others. For the which fact he was committed to prison, and sentenced to death; together with the diverse and sundry accidents that ensued thereupon; and how in the end he was set at liberty. And how himself and Daraxa turning Christians, their happy Nuptials were solemnly celebrated in the presence of the King and Queen of Spain.  
DON LVYS had a house in Axarafe, and other possessions belonging thereunto, by the vert we of his Mayorasgoship, in a little Village appertaining to seville. The season was temperate, being then about February, at which time the Fields seem to put on their new apparel; thither they agreed to go to make merry, and to recreate themselves for some few days, that they might not leave this path untrodden, to see if by this means they could divert her sorrows. With this she seemed somewhat pleased, and made show of better cheerfulness than before; supposing, if she went forth of the City, she should find some means or other, to see and speak with Ozmin. They made ready their Recamara, and all fitting provision for such a business: and it was good sport to behold the hurly burly and confused noise amongst them, as of him that had the charge of Grayhounds, of that other, that was to go along with the setting dogs, the Tumblers, and the Kennel of the hounds; of a third, that carried Hawks a-field; of this man bearing the Owl, that his Piece on his shoulder; of some with Crossbows in their hands; othersome with Mules laden with Bedding, Hangings, and other householdstuff, and all of them trooping together, laughing and making themselves merry with the conceived joy of this Feast.  
Don Alonso having notice hereof, comes me to Ozmin, and tells him that their Mistresses were gone abroad into the Country to take the air, and disport themselves, and that they were to remain there some time: but when they would return again, that he knew not. This news was nothing displeasing unto them for two respects: the one, for that they might (happily) meet there with the fewer Competitors in the pursuit of their Loves; the other, that they might have the better occasion not to be known. The nights were neither clear, nor dark, nor cold, nor hot; but with a pleasant noise of stillness, and delicate dark clearness, heaven and earth were both so overspread, that the heart of man could not imagine a fitter night for the purpose.  
These two loving friends, and friendly Lovers, agreed to try their fortunes, and to see what prize they could make in the choice of two such rich Bottoms as these were, laden with so much Honour, Beauty, and Wealth, the greatest treasure the world can afford. They disguised themselves, apparelling their bodies with good honest Country clothes, like plain Husbandmen, and set forth about Sunset upon two hackney jades; and when they came near unto the Village, some quarter of a League, or thereabouts, they alighted at a certain Farme-house; to the end, that by marching thus on foot, the lesser notice might be taken of them. Which might then have fell out very happily for them, if Fortune had not wheeled herself about, and turned her back towards them; for they arrived in very good time, even then when their Ladies were in the Balcon entertaining discourse, wholly fitting themselves for conversation, and mirth, as the company, or occasion should give cause.  
Don Alonso durst not draw too near, for fear of frighting the game; and therefore entreated his Companion to make the winde-lase, and to negotiate alone for them both; because he being beloved of Donna Eluira, and well known to Daraxa, he had no reason to hide himself from them. Ozmin then by degrees, (with a careful kind of carelessness) stole nearer and nearer, singing in a low Base as it were, humming between the teeth an Arabic song; which (to those that understood the language) were clear notes: But to those that knew it not, and were neglectful thereof, it seemed no more than an ordinary La, La, La. Donna Elvira (harkening unto him) told Daraxa; Even on these rude kind of people God hath bestowed his gifts, if they knew well how to use them. Do you not observe that savage fellow, what a sweet and well-tuned voice he hath; and how he relisheth and ayreth his notes, and how merrily he chants it, as if his mother had brought him into the world with a pricksong? But this is in him as water that raines itself into the Sea without any profit. By this you see (said Daraxa) that all things are esteemed according to the subject wherein they subsist. These country Clowns, if in their tender age they be not trans-planted into a political & Civil life: and if they be not removed and changed from their barren, to better grounds, and wholly stripped of that rugged bark, wherein they are born, it is a thousand to one if ever they come to be well behaved. Whereas on the contrary, those that are Citizens, and naturally of a good disposition, are like the Vine, which if it continue a year undressed and vntrimed, it yieldeth fruit notwithstanding, though it be but a little: but if you return to prune and husband it aright, it acknowledgeth the good it hath received, and renders a very large and thankful recompense. But this fellow that sings here now, is such a knotty piece of Timber, such an arrant Clown, that the best Carpenter in the world cannot with his Axe nor his Plainer, hew him into fashion, or shave him to any smoothness of civil carriage, but for ever remain an unprofitable block. It is a torment to me to hear this Turtle sing; if it please you, let us go hence, for it is time to withdraw ourselves, that we may take our rest.  
The Lovers well understood one another; she the Song, and he her words; and to what end she spoke them. The rest of the Ladies went their way, only Daraxa remained a little behind after the rest, and speaking to him in the Arabic tongue, willed him to stay there: where he stood waiting for her, and in the mean while, walked carelessly up and down, but still with an eye towards the Window, to see when she should make her return.  
The base sort of people, (by a secret kind of instinct) do evermore bear a natural hatred to those that are Noble; as the Lizard to the Snake, the Swan to the Eagle, the Cock to the 
a Francolino.  Pheasant, the Crab to the Cuttlefish, the Dolphin to the Whale, Oil to Pitch, the Vine to the Cole-wort, and the like. And if you ask, (as desirous to know, what is the natural cause thereof,) I can show you no other reason for it, more than that the Adamant draws unto it the Iron that the S follows the Sun, the Basilisk kills by Looking, and Swallow▪ wort helps the Sight. For as some things naturally love one another, so othersome hate and abhor by a celestial influence; the reason whereof mortal men have not to this day been able to reach unto. And that things of diverse kinds have this property, it is no wonder, because they consist of differing compositions, dispositions, and inclinations in nature: but that reasonable men, both t'one and totherother, moulded of one and the same earth, of one flesh, of one blood, of one beginning, created-forme, and the selfsame end, living under one selfe-same Law, being of one and the same Religion, and all of them in all and every part, (as farre-foorth as they are men) so one selfe-same substance; that out of that Similiancy, man naturally loves man: that yet (I say) there should be that contrariety and unsavoury taste; that this Raskallity, and base offscum of the earth, more hard than Flint, or the Gallician Nut, should persecute the Nobility with that vehemency as they do, is a matter to me of great admiration.  
That night certain young Lads of the Parish likewise walked abroad, and lighted by chance upon these two Strangers: and at the very first encounter, without any cause or reason in the world; no occasion being given them, began to flock together; and gathering themselves into a ring, began to cry amain; A Wolf, a Wolf, the Wolf is come: and throwing therewithal little stones by handfuls on their heads, (as they had showered down from heaven) they shrewdly be-pelted their Pates: so that they were forced to fly, unable to make any longer stay, their entertainment was so bad. And so they returned without any more ado, Ozmin being disappointed (which did much grieve him) of taking his leave of his Mistress. They went thither where their horses stood; and on them to the City, with purpose to return late again in the night that they might not be discovered. But this forecast stood them in little stead: for if Lightning and Thunder should have fallen from heaven, and though they knew it should either burn or dash them in pieces, there was one Rogue amongst the rest, that would rather lose his life, then carry himself civilly towards them; and only out of no other end but to do mischief and villainy. Scarce had they the next night following set foot in the Village, but that a knot of these madcaps being met together, and knowing them to be the very same whom they abused the night before, one with a Sling, another with a Yard, this man with a Boar-spear, that with a Bat, some with Staffs, some with Spits, not sparing so much as the Peele and Malkin of their Ovens, (as if they were to go out against a mad Dog) they jointly set upon them: but they found them better provided than they were the night before; for they had brought with them good jacks of Male, and steel Murrians, and strong Bucklers. On the one side you might see stones, Cudgels, and loud shouts; and on the other, many strong blows, and cutting slashes with the sword; and on both such a tumult, and such a stir, that with the noise thereof, the whole Village seemed to be up in arms; so like a little war did this fierce fight appear. Don Alonso, in crossing the street, was un-awares with an unlucky stone struck on the breast, and fell to the ground, wanting strength to recover himself to return afresh to the fight. Wherefore as well as he could, he crawled up, and withdrew himself aside, while Ozmin in the mean time drove them up before him in the street, working them much harm: for some of them (and those not a few) were sore hurt, and three left dead in the place. The tumult increasing, all the whole Village came out at once, and stopped the passage, that he could not, though he would never so fain, have fled from them. There was got now on the one side of him a Turfe-breaker, a sturdy stout Rogue, who with the Bar of a door struck him such a cruel blow on the shoulder, that he forced him upon his knees: but it did nothing benefit him, that he was the Alcalde's son; for before that he could come to double his blow upon him, (which he was about to do) he gave him such a slash, that he clave his head in twain, as it had been of a Kid or a Calf, leaving him lying like a Tunny on the shore, having rendered up his life in satisfaction of his Roguery. So many charged him on every side, and laid such load upon him, that being unable any longer to defend himself, he was taken by them.  
Daraxa and Donna Elvira, saw & heard all that had passed between them, (but with much sorrow to see such uncivil outrage) even from the very first beginning of the Fray, as also what a coil they kept, when they had caught him thus alive, and had him in their hold, and how they bound his hands behind him with a Cord, as if he had been one of their fellow-rogues. All of them on all sides entreated him ill; one buffeted him, another punched him, a third kicked him, throwing on him a thousand disgraceful affronts, wherewith they sought to be revenged on him for all the wrongs he did them, who (before he was their prisoner) durst not look him in the face.  
What a beastly and a shameful thing was this, to use a man thus, when he was not able to make resistance, his hands being bound to the peace? A thing never to be done by any, but such base Villains, and dogged Clowns, which kind of course usage is natural and proper unto them. But what becomes now of Daraxa? how does she brook this misfortune? how is she able without swooning, to see his person thus basely abused, who did so much love and adore his shadow? on the one side to see him prisoner, on the other, to see some wounded, and some slain, and her honour lying in the midst between them both? for she knew well enough, when the case should be laid open, Don Lewis of force could not but ask, what Ambrosio made there, and what occasion drew him thither.  
In this confusion, necessity drove her to sit in council with herself what course were best to be taken. To prevent therefore farther mischief, she devised a Letter, which when she had sealed, she locked it up in a little Cabinet that she had, to the intent that when Don Lewis should come unto her, she might make show thereof for her own discharge.  
Now by this time the day began to appear, and yet the people were not quieted. They had sent unto the City to give notice of what had happened, to the end that information might be taken how things had past, and to open the business. And when the Notary was come, they began to examine Witnesses; whereof many (without being called) made their voluntary appearance. For ill men, of themselves invite themselves unbidden, only out of a desire to do that is ill: and of enemies, become friends, to condemn the innocent. Some swore that Ozmin had six or seven, besides himself in his company; others, that he was seen to come out of Don Lewis his house, and that some cried out of the window, Kill them, kill them. Others, that the people of the Town resting secure and quiet, they wilfully set upon them; others, that they came and challenged them out of their houses; there not being one man amongst them all that swore a truth. God deliver us from such Clowns, for they are as stiff as Oakes, and of the same toughness of nature, cruel, and hard-hearted: if you will have any fruit from them, they must be used like Acorns, beaten down with Cudgels and dry blows; for they will sooner suffer themselves to be plucked up by the roots, though it be to the utter ruin of themselves, and their estates, then to bow or stoop, be it never so little. And if they be once minded to persecute a man, they will perjure themselves a thousand times, though the matter in question be not worth a straw, only out of an inclination to do that which is evil. And the ill is so much the worse, that these wretches think, that they do God good service therein, and that their souls are saved by it: and it is a wonder, if they confess their fault, and repent themselves of this their rancour and malicious poison. The deaths and wounds received, were proved upon him, and the poor Gentleman laden with irons, and put in safe custody. Don Lewis, as soon as he had notice hereof, hastened to the Village, his daughter informed him of the business, acquainting him truly with all that had passed: he inquired likewise of Daraxa, who told him the same tale, and that she had sent for Ambrosio to come thither, for to dispatch him thence with Letters for Granada, and before that he could get to speak with her, they had these two nights together beaten him with Cudgels, and pelted him with stones; so that, though her Letters were written, and lay ready for him, she could not come to deliver them into his hands. Don Lewis desired her, that she would show him the Letter, as well to see the contents thereof, as also for his own discharge, she being by their Majesties committed to his custody. She (though she seemed loath so to do) condescended at last to his request, and gave him the Letter, how beit little entreaty would have served the turn; for she desired nothing more, then to have him see what she had writ. And taking it from forth her Cabinet, she said unto him; I give it unto you, that you may perceive my truth, and conceive no jealousy, that I write any thing worthy the hiding from you. Don Lewis took the Letter, and going to read it, found that it was written in the Arabic tongue, wherein he had no knowledge. He than made inquiry for one that could read and interpret that Language; the Contents whereof were, that she signified unto her father, what a grief it was unto her, to live thus divided from him; and that she desired to be certified of his welfare; and if the desire she had to see him did not oversway all other respects, she lived otherwise in as full content as any woman in the world, being more made of by Don Lewis, than any of his own children: And therefore besought him, that in acknowledgement of this his kindness, and courteous entertainment, he would be pleased to remember him with some Present worthy his desert.  
And because in such like hurly-burlies as these, words multiply more and more, and together with the stir, reports, gather-strength, and increase; and for that every one canonizeth his own presumption, according as he is in love with it, they began to murmur against Don Lewis, and the people of his house. The Mustard was got up already into their Noses, and their fingers began to itch; but he, like a wise and discreet Gentleman, (as he was) thought fit for the present to dissemble the matter; and seeming to take little notice of their malicious proceeding, he removed his whole household, and returned back to the City.  
Now, whilst these things thus succeeded, Granada had yielded herself to the Conquerors, upon such conditions as the Chronicles mention, and as by our forefathers hath been reported unto us. Amongst those other Nobles that were found there at that time, were the two fellow-father-inlawes, Alboaçen father to Ozmin, and the Alcayde de Baça: both which besought to be baptised, desirous to become Christians: which Ceremony being performed, the Alcayde entreated their Majesties he might have licence to go see his daughter Daraxa: which being granted, they told him he should be advised from them ere long, how and when it should be. Alboaçen thinking that his son was dead, or taken Captive, used all diligence to know what was become of him, but he could never get any inkling thereof. For the which (as he had good reason so to be) he was wondrous sad, not only as he was his only child, but being also such a son, so well qualified as he was, and descended of such rich and noble Parents, the only hope of their House. The Alcayde had no less feeling of it then he, as well for that he loved him as dear, as if he had been his own; as also for the grief Daraxa would conceive, when she should come to hear the tidings of this heavy news. Their Majesties on their part had dispatched a messenger unto seville with express command, that Don Lewis should presently without delay repair unto them, and bring Daraxa along with him; with that respect and good usage, wherewithal they had put him in trust.  
Upon the receipt of these Letters, she (being acquainted what order was given) was at her wits end, and ready to run mad, because of force, upon this occasion, she was to depart, grieving thus to go away, before she should see an end of this business not knowing what would become of it; and sorrowing beyond measure that her dearest Love should be left behind her in prison; and that now when he had most need of her help, she must in this his greatest extremity, be driven to leave him to shift for himself. Her thoughts were all in a confusion, her imagination was troubled and her heart (through the weight of her griefs) as heavy as Led, calling herself a thousand times more unfortunate, than Misfortune itself, and of all other the most wretched woman.  
She was resolving to finish all at once, and together with her Love, to lose her life, with a perplexed, but almost-settled mind, it was in her deliberation to have acted a most cruel error upon herself, in token of that chaste and true love which she bore to Ozmin. But Daraxa, whose passion had not quite outgone her judgement, like a discreet Lady, (as she was) correcting her cruel determinations, taking up herself when she was in the height of her speed, she resolved to trust her misfortunes in the hands of Fortune her enemy, expecting whatever she would give them; and being that the utmost evil, was death, she would not despair of the game till she saw the last man borne. But this resolution of sufferance could not stop a sea of tears, which burst with a swelling Tide from forth her eyes. The standers by, supposed this to proceed out of her over-ioy, that she was to return to her own Country, but they were all deceived, so that every one spoke to her, but none did comfort her. Don Rodrigo came to take his leave of her, who with a countenance bathed with those crystalline tears, which dropped from her heavenly eyes, spoke unto him in this manner following:  
Noble Don Rodrigo, I might very well seek to persuade you with abundance of reasons to that good work, which upon this present occasion I pretend to present unto you, and to crave your furtherance therein. Which in its own nature is so just, that I cannot forbear to ask it, nor you to grant it, being that yourself is so much interessed therein: you know (though I should not tell you) the obligation we have to do good; which as a natural and divine Law speaketh particularly to every man's soul and conscience. Nor is there any man so barbarous, that is ignorant thereof: and this carries somuch the more force with it, by how much the stronger the reasons are that are alleged; amongst the which, a principal one, and not the least, is, that we apply this good unto those, that have eaten of our bread, and been entertained in our service. And because I know you can not be unlike yourself, my intercession may seem the less needful. But that which I shall entreat at your hands, is this: You know, that Ambrosio was servant to both our fathers: first to mine, then to yours: And therefore we are both bound (but I the more) to do for him; having put himself through my default in that necessity, wherein now he is, the cause in hand no otherwise concerning him, but as I was interessed in the business. By my hand he was thrust into this danger, I was the sole causer of it; and therefore I stand charged with it, and must put it to my account. If you will therefore free me from this debt; if you desire to give me content; if you purpose to bind me unto you, that I may for ever remain the thankful acknowledger of your love and kindness, it must be, that by laying upon your shoulders this weighty care of mine own desire, that you seek by all means to procure his liberty, which in the reckoning is mine; and my request unto you is, that you endeavour it with that earnestness, as I do desire it. Don Lewis, (whom I have ever found my singular good Lord) will, before I go hence, use all possible diligence in his own person, with his friends and kinsfolk; that the one aiding the other in his absence, may free me of this debt, for the which I stand engaged. Don Rodrigo promised to do his best, and so they parted.  
Now, for that this poor Lady had left her best beloved in this great peril of his life, she was much grieved; and by so much the more, by how much the farther she was from him; so that when she came to Granada, she did not seem to be the same she was.  
Don Alonso, though he had escaped their hands, yet being sorely bruised in his breast, he was forced to keep his bed, so sound had the Clowns banged him. But when he afterwards heard, that his Companion was carried prisoner to seville, he got him out of his bed, posted thither, took infinite pains, trotting up and down, and never ceasing to solicit his friend's cause, as if the case had been his own. Notwithstanding, what with the complaint of the Plaintiffs; the accusation of Witnesses; the evil inclination of the judges, (either upon information, or corruption; not favouring the Defendant,) besides the slain and wounded (which were many) he could not save him, together with diverse other his good friends, from being condemned to be hanged at the common Gallows.  
Don Rodrigo was in a great rage, that his father and himself should find so little respect, as to hang up a servant of theirs, that had not offended the Law, had he had equal hearing, and a fair trial. On the other side, Don Alonso stood much in maintenance of the Defendant, saying, that it was not to be permitted; nor could the Law condemn a Gentleman, so nobly descended as his friend jayme Uives was, to be hanged: And that in case the fault were far greater, yet the difference of quality ought to save his life: At least it ought to privilege him from hanging, it being the Law, that, in matters deserving death, Gentlemen should not be hanged, but be-headed. The judges and the rest of the Bench were distracted in this Case, and knew not what they were best to do. Don Rodrigo, he styles him his servant; Don Alonço, his friend; Don Rodrigo pleads for him by the name of Ambrosio, and Don Alonço, by that of jayme Viues, a Gentleman of Zaragosa; who, at the feast of their Bulls, had made such noble proof of his Valour, as the whole City could well witness: And that in the Tournament (he being his Padrino, or Champion that brought him in) unhorsed one of the Challengers, showing that day great tokens of his worth and Valour. The difference was so great, the names so contrary; the qualities alleged so discrepant; that the judges, to clear this doubt, resolved with themselves to take declaration thereof from himself. They demanded then of him, whether he were a Gentleman or no? He answered that he was nobly descended, & of Royal Blood, but that his name was neither Ambrosio, nor jayme Viues. Then they willed him, that he should manifest his name, and the quality of his person. Whereunto he made answer, that his punishment might excuse him for not discovering himself; and being that he was undoubtedly to dye, it was no more necessary to tell it them, than it was material, to suffer either the one, or the other death. Then they desired him to deliver, whether he were the same man Don Alonço had reported, which had so bravely killed the two Bulls, and gotten such honour in the Tourneyment.  
He replied he was; but that he had neither of those names, whereby they called him. And because he was so loath to declare his Lineage (conceiving him thereby to be a man of quality,) they demurred upon the business, to see if they could work the truth out of him, to know who he was; as also to wind out the reasons, why these two noble Gentlemen should so earnestly undertake his defence. And which did not a little startle them; they saw the whole City did generally desire his liberty, & stood strongly affected towards him. Hereupon they dispatched some presently away for Zaragosa, that they might learn out the truth, & give knowledge of his Birth. But having spent some days therein, and used many diligencies, they could not meet with any (for all their strict inquiry,) that could give them notice who he might be, nor could devose what manner of Gentleman he might be, either by his name, or any signs or tokens by them given, who failed not to describe him at full unto them. Being returned with this ill Dispatch, albeit his friends did much importune for him, and the Magistrates of justice did often require him, that he would lay open his quality and condition, yet he would not do it, nor was it possible to persuade him thereunto. So the judges (the time limited being fully expired for farther respite) sore against their will, much pitying both his Youth and Valour, not being able to cross the course of justice, being pressed so earnestly by the importunity of the adverse party, they confirmed their former fentence.  
Daraxa, nor the two fathers were asleep, whilst these things were in doing; for they had made their Majesties acquainted with the whole carriage of the business, & were by them informed of the truth thereof. Many petitions they put up, and no sooner one Memorial given, but another was a drawing to second their fuit: Daraxa, she in her own person did solicit the life of her espoused husband, begging it by the way of merced and grace: But their Majesties answered nothing thereunto. Yet secretly they dispatched Don Lewis presently away, with their kingly provision to the judges, that they should deliver unto him the Bill of the whole indictment, in every point as it was taken from the beginning to the end, together with the prisoner, for that it did much concern their Highness' service. Don Lewis posted away (as he was commanded) with all the speed he could; whilst poor Daraxa, her own father, and father-in-law melted into tears, considering the haste which the judges would make in dispatching this poor innocent Gentleman. Which they so much the more feared, for that their Petitions received so slow an answer. They knew not what to say, or think of this so long a delaying of them, without giving them any answer off or on, either good or bad, or any the least hope of life. This did exceedingly grieve them, but they knew not how to help themselves, nor had they left any one stone un-removed, but made all the means and friends they could. But that which did most daunt them, was, that the main danger did consist in the delay.  
Whilst they were thus strucken into their dumps, and doubts (for what comfort can there be in so dangerous a suspension?) Don Lewis (as you heard before,) spurred on a main, with much both speed and secrecy. And as he entered the gates of seville, Ozmin was led forth of the prison, to be carried to his execution. The streets, and every place through which they past, were full of people; all was tumult & noise, and not a person, but wept and shed tears, to see so handsome a young man, so well favoured, so valiant, and well-beloved for those famous deeds which he had publicly done, to be so untimely cut off: And the more was their sorrow, to see him dye without confession. Which made them all to think, that he did it to escape death, or to prolong his life: but he was silent, and spoke not a word, nor showed any sign of sadness in his looks, but with a smiling kind of countenance beheld them all as he passed along. They made now and then certain stops, to see if they could exhort him to confess himself, labouring all they could to persuade him, that he would not lose body and Soul both at once. But he answered them not a word, but held his peace all the while. The people continuing thus in this confusion, and the City waiting on this sad spectacle, Don Lewis came, making the people give way, pressing through the throng, to hinder the Execution. The (a) Alguazils thought it was a resistance of justice, and out of very fear which they had of Don Lewis, for that he was a stout and valiant Gentleman, and dared to oppose himself to any danger, they forsook Ozmin who was under their guard, and with a great hurry and clamour, they ran to give account of what had passed, to the Magistrates, whose authority (they thought) it more nearly touched. Whereupon they came to know, what might be the cause of so great disrespect done unto them. He put his hand in his pocket, and taking out the King's Order, he delivered it unto them, which was by them, to their great contentments, most willingly obeyed. And so they brought Ozmin (being accompanied with all the Gentlemen of that City, and the common joy of the people) to Don Lewis his house; Where that night he was entertained with a gallant Mask, setting up many Torches and Cressets in the streets and windows, for to give the more general content: And in token of their great joy, they would have celebrated those days he stayed there with public feasts; for now they knew who he was. But Don Lewis would not give way thereunto; but tying himself to his Instructions, carried him as his prisoner, along with him the next morning, being kindly used, and well entertained upon the way, according to the greatness of his rank and quality.  
Being now arrived at Granada, he kept him secretly with him some few days, until such time as he had order from their Majesties to bring him to Court. Who when he was come before them, they joyed much in the sight of him; and whilst he was standing thus in their presence, they commanded Daraxa to be called forth. Now when these two Lovers thus suddenly met in such a place as that was, so unexpectedly, and so far beyond their hopes, every man may make his own heart judge of the wonderful joy which they received in this happy (but unlooked for) encounter, and imagine with himself what each of them did think and conceive thereof. When each others eyes had fed their fill, the Queen made towards them, and told them that both their fathers were become Christians: howbeit, Daraxa knew so much before. She desired them to do the like, which she should receive as a singular favour from them; but that no other love, nor fear should enforce them thereunto, save only that of God, and their own salvation. But howsoever, whether they did so or no, (for she would not compel the conscience) her pleasure was that they should now instantly enjoy their liberty, and dispose of their Estates and Persons, according to their own will and pleasure.  
Ozmin would fain have answered the Queen with all the joints and sinews of his body, making them so many tongues, to render thanks to her Majesty, for this so great a benefit; signifying that he was very willing to be baptised; and them addressing himself to Daraxa, in the presence of their Majesties, he entreated her to do the like. Daraxa, whose eye was never off from her dearest Ozmin (so hungry was she in beholding him) shedding a few sweet tears from her Rosy cheeks, directing her looks & speech unto their Majesties, she told them, That since it was Gods will to enlighten their understanding, and by many tribulations, to bring them to the knowledge of his truth, she was disposed, and that unfeignedly, and with a true heart, humbly to submit herself thereunto, and to the obedience of their Majesties, under whose protection and princely hands, she reposed both herself, and all that she had. So anon after, they were christened with a great deal of Ceremony, naming the one Ferdinand, and the other Isabella; according to that of their Majesties, who as Godfather, and Godmother gave them their names at the Font. Within some few days after, their Nuptials were celebrated with a great deal of glory and ostentation, many Presents and other courtesies being conferred upon them in that City, where they lived all their life-time, and left behind them an illustrious and noble offspring, which continueth yet to this day in much honour and reputation in their Country.  
We went harkening to this Story, with a great deal of Silence, being led on attentively with it, till we came within sight of Caçalla: so that it seemed to have been measured just out for that journey, so truly did the one jump with the other. Howbeit, it was somewhat more enlarged by the Author, flourished over with finer phrases, and a different Soul, to that which I have delivered unto you.  
Our honest Carrier, who remained mute from the beginning to the ending (which was no more than all of us did) began now to find a tongue, and was the first that opened his mouth. Alight (my masters) quoth he: For here I must leave you: my way lies along by this path. And with that he calls unto me, Come hither, (my young Gallant) let us make up our reckoning before we part.  
When I heard this, I was almost ready to hang myself, it was the bitterest draught, that ere went down my throat. Is it e'en so, (said I to myself?) Well, let it go: for I did verily believe, that all that past between us, had been in the way of friendship. Well, I dis-mounted, and got not up so lightly before, as I now came down heavily: for I knew not in the world what answer to make him, save only to ask him, how much I was to pay him for the riding of nine Leagues? See what these Gentlemen give, so must you. For your lodging and your diet, you are to pay me three Royals more. The Umbles of the Mule I now found to be dear meat unto me (and that they stuck a little also in his stomach:) but that which grieved me most, was; That I had not money to pay for it. And therefore I came unto him, and told him; My friend, ●…o, here is your money for the reckoning, so much you say is my part of the shot; but for my horse-hyre I owe you nothing; for you yourself, without any entreaty of mine, desired me to get up, inviting me thereunto of your own accord.  
What a Devil (quoth he) mean you by this? Marry gupp with a murrain, you are a fine Gentleman indeed; do you think to ride a cockhorse on free cost? you are a pretty Youth indeed. I replied upon him; we fall to scuffling; the Clergymen inter- posed themselves; they were to umpire the business between us: They condemned me to pay for the meat of my Beast for that night. I did so; making an even reckoning with my purse, having no more left me in all the world, but twenty Maravedis, to bear my charges that night.  
The Muletier went about his business; The Clergymen, and myself, entered into Cacalla, where we take our leave, every man betaking himself to his own way.     

THE ROGVE: OR, THE FIRST PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE. The second Book.  
Wherein is treated, how he came to be a Rogue; and by being so, what happened unto him.  

CHAPTER I.  
How Guzman de Alfarache, going out of Caçalla towards Madrid, proves the quality and condition of a miserable man; and upon this occasion, gravely discourseth of the effects of Want, of Shame, and of Castles in the air: And how he came to serve an Host; and of the wicked disposition of such kind of men.  
thou seest me here in Caçalla, twelve Leagues from seville, upon Monday in the morning, with my purse penniless, and my patience remediless: and accused (as you have heard) for a Thief, by way as it were of Prophecy, presaging what I should be hereafter. I suffered enough the first day I set forth; the second, more. For my care increased, and it reigned down hard upon him, who was too wet already; one mischief overtaking another. I had lately money in my purse, and meat to put in my belly: and griefs (as the 
Los duelos con pein, son menos.  Proverb is) are the better overpassed with bread. It is good to have a father, it is good to have a mother; but to have meat to put in a man's mouth, is better than them both. The third day was to me, as it were, a day of death: for than I had my full load of miseries. I found myself then like a lean Dog, barked at by others; grinning with my teeth upon all those that came round about me; turning head against all, but not daring to bite any: my cares continued with me; with them, their barking: and having hedged me in, set all upon me at once: but that which most troubled me, was; That I had not where withal to spend, nor any means to defray my necessary expenses. I knew then, what a 
a Blanca, is a small price of ●…oney, Lat. As, assis. The effects of Want.  Blank meant; and that he that doth not seek to gather, doth not make any reckoning of it, nor know the worth thereof, till he feels the want of it. This was the first time, that I looked that Heretic Necessity in the face: I knew him then by his Character, but afterwards I did better consider him by his effects. How many dishonest actions doth it venture on? what cruel imaginations doth it represent unto thee? what infamous things doth it solicit? what disorders doth it drive thee into? and what impossibilities doth it not attempt? I weighed also with myself, with how little our mother Nature is contented; and having given much to many, yet none of them rest contented: all cry out, They are poor, publishing their wants to the world. O thou Epicure! O thou riotous Glutton! thou lavish Prodigal! why dost thou talk thus foolishly, that thou eatest and swallowest down so many thousand Ducats yearly? Say rather, that thou haft so much Rend coming in; and that thou keep'st it in thy hands, but not that thou eatest it out: and if thou dost eat it out, why dost thou keep such a complaining? seeing thou art no more man, than myself, whom poor Lentils, dry Fitches, old Beans, hard Pease, and Biscuit that is ●…enowed and moth▪ eaten, keeps as fat and fair, as those that have daintier feeding. Thou wilt not tell me, nor canst thou (I think) give me a reason, what should be the cause of it. For my part I know not: but if ever thou hast been in want, or shouldst (which is possible) be put to shift for thyself, and be driven to need and to lack, thou wouldst then be able to tell me another tale. I wish no man that ill luck, but only lament mine own misfortunes. She is the Mistress 
Necessity the best 〈◊〉.  to all things, a subtle I nuentresse, by whom your Thrushes, your Pies, your jackdaws, and your Parrots are taught to speak. I plainly began to perceive, how Adversity makes men wise: in that very instant, me thought, 
Adver●… makes men wise.  I discovered a new light; which as in a clear Glass, did represent unto me things past, things present, and things to come.  
Till this present I was a mere Cockney, and well might that name suit with my breeding. For (as it is in the Proverb) Hijo de la viuda, bien consentido, y mal dotrinado: the son of a Widow is well fed, and ill taught. I had many chips to be hewed out of me, and the first stroke of the Axe, was this trouble that did light upon me; which did so wound the main timber, and so touch me to the quick, that I know not how to endear it unto thee. I saw myself abandoned, and so dangerously ingulphed, that I knew not where to find harbour, or to put into any port for to save myself. My years were few, my experience less, it being fitting, that they should both have been greater than they were. And which was worst of all, (knowing by manifest signs, that my ruin was near at hand) being willing to ask counsel, I did not know from whom I might receive it.  
I entered into a reckoning with myself, and was making my Account; 
A poor man's account, to what a reckoning 〈◊〉 comes.  which I found to be very bad; my charge was great, and my cash small: I was about not to have gone any farther; for to go on I wanted means, as I likewise did for to carry me home. I was ashamed, being I was come away from thence, to become again (as it is in the Proverb) an Hinge to the door; (which, howsoever that open or shut, it remains still in the self same place) or to put my foot upon our own Threshold, in the open sight of my Mother, my friends, and my kinsfolk. God help me, how many, from that day to this, have I seen to be utterly undone, and merely out of this respect! I was (I say) ashamed: how many Virgin●… have left off to be so, and have lost their Maidenheads, by thinking themselves to be tied in thankfulness for a 
To be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 modest e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at is 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 cause of great hurt.  paper of Sugar-Comfits, and some Love-verses; or because some vain fellow hath given her music at her Window, and made her fall in love with him, by the help of another man's quality; with that very Song, which with a sweet air and graceful voice another sung for him? How many blockheads (out of shame of denial) have entered into Suretyship for others, & have paid the debt, themselves being utterly undone thereby; and the children (through the father's folly) for want of maintenance, sent to some Hospital? How much money hath been lent and borrowed, for the continuing of friendship and kindness betwixt man and man; whereby in the end it so falls out, that he doth not only lose his friend, but his money too? Nay more, many times it so comes to pass, that he that parted with his money, hath not meat to put in his mouth, and is ready to starve for want of food; and he that had it of him, hath over and above to pay him; and yet the other dare●… not ask it him, and all (forsooth) for that he is ashamed to speak to him.  
I would have thee to know, (if thou know'st it not already) that Shamefastness 
Shamefastness, what it is likened to.  is like unto a web in a Weaver's Loom; if one thread be broken it ravels the whole Worke. In those things, whereby hurt may arise unto thee, and drive thee to narrow shifts spoil the work, and break the threads in sunder, and I assure myself thou wilt rather thank me for it then think arnisse 
Good Advice.  of my counsel. And the inconvenience which thou must suffer, (having done that which is desired at thy hands) let him smart for it that craves it, rather than thou, when thou hast done it.  
For Modesty and shamefastness in such a case, when it stands upon a man's making or marring, is a thing that is only proper unto fools. It is fit, that thou shouldst have a kind of modesty in thyself, not to do (no not when thou art alone by thyself) any foul or shameful act: but for any other, what know'st thou of what colour he is, or of what metal he is made? Free thyself from him, in that which shall nearly concern thee; let him not tie thee up like a Dog, with a chain and a clog, behind the door of thy ignorance: cut, or slip the Collar; get loose, and run away from him, as fast as thy legs will carry thee. Only be ashamed to do any thing (as I said before) that is shame-worthy. For that which thou callest Modesty, is no 
Modesty, when to be used. Shamefastness in some things, is notable ignorance.  better than mere foolery: if I myself had not been ashamed, I should not have wasted so many sheets of Paper, as this volume contains, to acquaint thee with the sad Story of my miserable life: whereunto I might add many more; but I now ride post, and must hasten away, promising to deliver unto thee far greater things concerning my life, if God say Amen.  
I tell you, it would have grieved me very much to have returned home without a Cloak, especially having come forth with one upon my back. Not was I willing to be laughed at, (which they could not choose but do) to see what a single-sole Gentleman I was, and how like a naked cottage I looked, or a bare wall without hangings: Besides, I made it a point of shame, and stood much upon it. And that having put on a resolution at my departing, it had been pusillanimity in me, and baseness of mind, to have had but so much as a bare thought of returning back again. I thought, I should never have the like occasion again, (though I think, never any man but myself, played such an idle trick) and therefore when I was once on my way, it stood not (me thought) with my reputation to hang an arse, and to pull that foot back, which had already set itself so forward: I made it a matter of shame, which turned afterward to my undoing; but am not now ashamed to speak this as boldly, as I did under-go it foolishly: for such another Ass as I, was there never.  
The good old Hostess ran still in my mind, who, I make account, will fall ere long into my hands; whom, if it be my chance to light upon, I believe she shall not get from me with her Kerchief on her head: I will make her walk with her hair about her ears, and throw her (Sir-reverence) in the dirt. I have water enough in store for her, ●…o set her up to the chin: I am resolved to be revenged on her, by treading on the very neck of her, and setting my foot on her old withered windpipe, throwing her first to the ground, as thou wouldst throw a Dishclout.  
Would to God (thou paltry proud Boy, thou unruly young man, and thou senseless old Ass) that I had either then understood, or thou didst now know, what manner of thing Shame is, what point of honour and reputation, considering the great disorders that thou dost, and the idle courses that thou runnest.  
I said with myself, my Reputation lies upon't; my Honour is engaged; I must and will go on, my trust is in God, and I hope he will not fail me. Having thus set up my rest, I resolved to pass forward, with purpose to make a journey to Madrid. For there was the Court, where was all the bravery and gallantry of the world, nothing to be seen, save Roses and Lilies great plenty, and abundance of all things, with many Knights of the order of the golden Fleece; many Dukes and Grandes of Spain; many men of Title; many Prelates; many Knights of the Habit, with many principal Gentlemen of extraordinary rank and quality; and above all, a young King newly married.  
I thought with myself, because I was a handsome young Lad, well shaped, and of some reasonable good fashion in my behaviour, that they would have gone together by the ears for me, striving who should have me away with him. O how many things did present themselves at once unto me! How far, in this simplicity of ours, are our deeds, from our 
It is easy to think on a thing, but bard to bring it about. How both these are painted.  thoughts! What made dishes; what hot, what cold; what boiled, what roast? For it is easier to think, then to do. Businesses may be soon conceived, but they are not so easily effected. Both which in my imagination I thus paint forth unto thee.  
To think upon a thing, I suppose to be like unto a pretty little Boy, riding upon a Hobby-horse, with a Windmill made of paper, which he bears in his hand upon the top of a Cane, or some little stick, that comes first to hand. But to bring that thing to pass, I liken that to an old man, bald-headed, weake-handed, lame-legged, who leaning on two Crutches, goes to the scaling of a high wall, that is strongly defended. Have I spoke too much? I say it is no less. For things oftentimes seem to be well disposed of in the night, when the Candles are out, and all is dark, taking 
Pillow Counsel proveth vain.  counsel with our pillow: But the Sun no sooner appears, but they vanish away in an instant, like thin clouds in the heat of Summer. He that could have seen me, when I made this account, might easily have perceived with what care, and breaking of my sleeps, I framed these things in my thoughts. But they were Castles in the air, and fantastical Chimeras, and had scarce put on my clothes when I had put them all off again, and thrown them from me. I plotted many things, but none of my projects did hit right, but fell out cross, if not quite contrary to what I had proposed. All was vain, all lies, all illusion, all falsehood, and deception of the imagination, and like 
a Duende, is one of the spirits that fell with Lucifer. Tesorode Duende: Or Duendes treasure, we say to be that Estate, or 〈◊〉, which is all consumed and gone, and a man knows not how, being vanished like a spirit.  Duendes Treasure, all cold embers, and dead coals.  
Now, I go onward on my way, and having gotten me a short Cane in my hand, in stead of a walking Cudgel, me thought, all the while I had that, I had my 
b A Plymouth Cloak.  Cloak on my back; but it did neither do me that credit, nor keep me so warm, as that would have done. Only it served me to underprop mine arm now and then, whilst I gave breath to my weary legs.  
As I was trudging along, a couple chanced to overtake me, travelling that way on their Mules: I thought with myself, Could I now hold out lustily, and keep company with them, they could not in kindness but pay my charges. But Pescar con 
c Mazo is properly a Mallet wherewith Car●…ters dr●… 〈◊〉 Ch●….  Maço, no es renta c●…erta. To fish with a Pole, is no certain rent. Nor, is it to think, and to be wise, all one. They 
To suit this with an English Proverb, I know not.  are two differing things. They had never a boy between them, to go along and look to their Mules; they did not ride very hard, though their hearts (as I afterwards found) weary very hard towards me. They road gently enough, but they were cruell-minded men. Their pace was softer than their bowels, for any compassion that was in them.  
I jogged still along, and kept close with them: and when we had gone some three Leagues, or thereabouts, it was near about Noon. My heartstrings were ready to break with trotting and galloping after them, because I would not be cast behind. For, though their gate were easy, yet it put me (considering my youth and weakness of body) to the height of my speed. These were men, or rather Beasts in men's shape, for they spoke not a word. And I believe they were monstrous covetous; and some there are that are so near, that they will not part with their spittle, if they knew it would serve for a medicine. These miserable wretches would not exchange so much as one word with me, because they would not help me (if need had been) with some entertainment on the way.  
Had they entered upon some Discourse, or told me some such Story, as did my honest Clergy man, I should not have been half so weary as I was. For good company, (wheresoever we chance to light upon it) is a kind of 
Good company, what effects it worketh.  meat and drink to the Soul: it cheers the hearts of Travellers; it recreateth their minds; it refresheth their bodies; it makes them forget their weariness; it riddeth the way; it easeth our grief; it expelleth melancholy; it lengthens man's life, and by a particular privilege that it hath, it makes horsemen, of footmen. We came in together into the Inn where we were to bait; but I in that case, that there was but little difference betwixt me, and one that is dead, I was e'en quite out of heart, and clean tired out. But that I might get me a morsel of bread to put in my mouth, I was forced to buckle up myself, to bestir my stumps, to lay aside all ceremonies, and to forget to stand upon my points. Moreover I strained myself beyond my strength; humbled myself more than stood with my nature; applied myself to wait upon them, to put their Mules into the Stable, and to carry their luggage into their lodging. They were sound and lusty, and had their healths about them, but I had got the Plague by meeting with them. For at the first dash, one of them says unto me; Stand aside (my young Gallant) get you gone, we have no need of your service.  
O Traitors, enemies to God (thought I to myself) how uncharitably do these men begin with me? what hope can I have from them, that they will give me victuals; or if I should faint on the way, that they would take pity of me, and set me up behind them? They are set down to dinner: I stood right over against them, but somewhat aloof off, thinking they would have been so tender-hearted, as to afford one bit or other from their trencher: but I fell short of my hopes.  
There came thither at that time a Franciscan Friar, who was on foot, and all in a sweat. He sat down to rest himself, and anon after, pulls me out of his Wallet (which hung on his left shoulder) a Lose of Bread, and a piece of Bacon. I was so horrible hungry, that I could scarce stand upon my legs, or fetch my breath, so faint was I grown for want of food.  
But not having (white-livered Whoreson, as I was) the courage (out of a dastardly kind of bashfulness) to speak unto him to relieve my want: I looked pitifully upon him, and besought him with mine eyes (which is a good dumb eloquence) that he would give me a bit of something for God's sake.  
The good Friar, who read my Petition in my looks, (with all the haste he could make, as if his life had lain upon the speedy doing of it,) said; Blessed 
The Franciscan Friars Charity.  be God, Though I should want myself; yet seeing thee in that necessity thou now art, I would rather go without myself, then to see my poor brother lack.  
Take this (my pretty Boy) quoth he; and much good may it do thee. O to see the wonderful goodness of God, the eternal Wisdom, the divine Providence; the infinite Mercy, which in the bowels of a hard stone, doth sustain a poor silly worm, and provide it food, and filleth all things living with his heavenly bounty!  
They that were able, and had wherewithal, would not (out of mere covetousness) give me so much as one crumb from their table: and what relief I could not draw from them, by all my serviceable endeavours, I had from this Mendicant, this poor beggarly Friar, only for God's sake, and out of mere charity, seeing in what extremity I was Quiéns proprias necessidades no tiene, mal se acuerda de agenas. He that never knew what want meant, hath little feeling of another man's misery. Mine was before them, they saw it, and with it my tender years, and that I had almost broken my heart, having spent and tired out myself to keep company with them; yet were they not sensible of my weariness, took no pity at all of me, nor did commiserate my wants.  
My good honest Friar, did freely share his victuals with me, wherewith I filled my belly, and was well satisfied. If that good man, as he went towards seville, had been to go my way, he had ransomed me from my misfortunes, and had made me a happy man: but we were to run a contrary course, and to take several ways: yet when he was to go his way, the good man (I shall ever call him by that name,) gave me half a Loaf that he had left, and bid me farewell, telling me, Thou must content thyself (my child) with this; had I more, more shouldst thou have.  
I put it in the lining of the lappet of my jacket, and fair and softly set forward on my way. By that time I had gone three Leagues more, it was night, then did I supper myself upon my bread, without any other meat in the world; nor was there any that would give me aught else to eat.  
It was the Carrier's day, and some of them Inned there: Mine Host of the house bid me go in, and sleep upon the Straw, I did so, and past over my travel, as well as I could, being poor and needy, and must do as I might, seeing I could not do as I would.  
I had made a light Supper, (which you may well believe without an oath) for I did not rise the next morning with a full stomach. But when I was about to depart, and ready to leave the Inn, my Host comes unto 
A hard-●…rted Host.  me, and demands a Quarto of me for my lodging. I had it not, and therefore could not pay it him: the cunning Rogue had a great desire to have stripped me out of my jacket, which was of very good cloth.  
When I saw I was put to this straight, and that he was so eager upon me, my eyes were brim full, and ready to run over with water. One of the Carriers took pity of me that was there, (for they are not 
All Carriers are not K●…es; some have Souls to be saved.  all Blasphemers, and fellows that have no Souls) slept in between us, and said, Mine Host, Let the poor Boy alone, I will pay it for him. His fellows asked me: Sirrah, whence are you, and whether go you? He made answer for me, that had paid for me. What uncivil people are ye to ask him that question? Is that so hard a matter to be known? you may easily guess, that he is run away either from his Father, or his Master.  
Mine Host then said unto me: How sayst thou my Boy, wilt thou take wages, and dwell with me? As things than stood with me, me thought it was no bad bargain; yet it seemed harsh unto me, that I should now learn to serve, who from my childhood, had been taught to command. I told him I would. Get you in then (quoth he) and rest you here, for I will not employ you in any other service then the Stable, for the delivering out my 
a They have little ●…ay in Spain, and no Oats at al. Their ordinary feeding for Horse, is chopped Straw, and Barley.  Straw and my Barley, and see that you keep a good account, and score up truly, what every man takes, that neither you, nor they may be mis-reckoned. Take you no care, Sir (quoth I) I shall do it to a hair.  
And thus I remained there a while, having victuals without allowance, and feeding (as they say) upon free cost; and for my work, that was rather a sport unto me then otherwise, and holp well to pass away the time. For till those nights that the Carriers came, there was little or nothing to do; as for other ordinary Passengers, it was not a trouble, worthy the talking of. There I learned to steep Barley in warm water, to make it increase a third part, and to give false measure; I had the cunning strike of the hand; I knew how to 
b Hincar el pulpejo.  hollow it with mine arm, and to run over the Mangers; and if any man did put me in trust to look to his Beast, and to give him his Provender, I would be sure to cousin him of one third part of his measure. Some of my Youngsters would come in now and then very neatly, in their tricksy 
c Manc●…billetes de ligas y vigotes.  Garters, and their trim Mouchatoes, as spruce as could be, carrying the show of Gentlemen, but the Devil a Page or Lackey that they had to attend upon them. It was good holding the Basin to these: they are your only Dons, to endure a fine Shaving.  
With these, we drove a good Trade. For we came unto them, and taking charge of their Hackneys, we did set them up in such places as were appointed for them, where they had the remains of that the others had left, which went for one half of their allowance; and the other half they were presently supplied with (though but bad measure;) but when they came to pay, we gave them a reckoning for the whole. And into the bargain we had our Hens, and our Pigs, if not now and then the Foal of an Ass, that did help to share with them. For bountiful natures, and minds that are magnificent, never stick for trifles, nor offer to stand for small matters; 
Magnanimus non curate de minimis.  so that we had all that we could ask, and they never made any more bones of the matter. Our mouths were the measures, never weighing the set prices of things, nor the Sizes set down in the Proclamation, nor what the justices had ordered in that kind, which were formally hung up in every Inn, with a particular tax to every thing there specified. For those are never kept, and therefore made little or no reckoning thereof at all. Only they are set up there at our doors, to the end that the Alcalde and the 
d The Notary.  Esçrivano may lick their fingers, and receive some monthly profit from the fees belonging thereunto. And to take occasion to see, whether they had fixed up the Cedula or no, with purpose to pick a quarrel with them, if they neglected the doing thereof, and so make them pay sound for it. For the Stable, it is already well known, what every Horse's allowance is, and how much it comes to a piece, both for their Straw, their Provender and their Standing. For the Kitchen, that was sport alone to us, it made us all merry, for we were quick upon that call to come in, and nimble (as having learned our lessons aforehand) in the bringing in of our reckoning. So many 
* A Maravedi, is the thirty two part of a Ryall, which is six pence.  Rials (Gentlemen) and so many * Maravedis much ye God diche you, and you are heartily welcome. Being ever sure to reckon rather a Ryall over, than a Blank under.  
Many (like good wise men as they were) would never examine the reckoning, but lay down their money presently, saying, Lo (my friend) there's your due. But some fresh-water-Souldiers, that were but Novices and young Travellers, plants of the first Leaf, would ask us wherefore? How can it come to be much, & c? But this was but to cut their own throats, and to make us to enhance the reckoning the higher; for when they once put us to that jump, (besides the raising of our prices in the general) we did always find a trick to add something, though it were but for the boiling of their 
a Olla, is a pot or P●…k 〈◊〉 wherein ●…sh, & other things are said▪ by the Figure Metonym. The Olla is taken for that which is boiled in it. Olla podrida, is a very great one, containing in it diverse things, as Mutton, Beef, Hens, 〈◊〉, Sausages, Pigs feet, Garlic, Onions, etc. It is called Podrida, because it is sod leisurely, till it be rotten (as we say) & ready to fall in pieces. And it is therefore ●…earmed Podrida, for that it is like fruit that is over-ripe. Andrea's Bacius, A Roman Physician, in his book de natura Vinorum, says; That Olla Podrida, is the same as Poderosa: To wit, powerful by reason of its greatness, and the variety of the things contained in it. In English it may well bear the name of Hodgepodge. Covarrwias', verb. Olla. This Olla, is in Spain the commonest meat of all other, and in most esteem. They eat the meat first, and sup up their Caldo or broth afterwards.  Olla, and such like toys; so that by this time there were many wanting for to make up the full reckoning, which they were forced to pay in the end, by way of fine or amercement for their folly. For had they (like others) taken their payment quietly, they had not been so sound lashed. For you must understand, that the word of an Host, is a kind of definitive Sentence; there is no appealing from it, but to the Purse. Nor is it swaggering or roaring that can serve the turn; your brave will little benefit you; for your Hosts, for the most part, are a company of old Catchpoles, dogged Curs, who out of a scurvy condition that they have, will with a still mouth hunt dryfoot after you, till he come to some good Town, and then he will bawl upon you (like old Cryer) and when he hath set you up, will accuse you to the justice, That you would have set his Inn on fire, or that you did bastonado him with a Cudgel, or that you would have forced his wife, or his daughter; and only that he might do thee a mischief, and be revenged upon thee. Besides, we had some Lures in our house to catch foolish birds withal, and had some shows of provision for poor Travellers; which were such, that no man that had come into the Inn afoot, would have stayed to go out a horseback: if thou chance to forget thyself, and to leave any thing behind thee, give it thy good word, unless thou have the better luck; for it shall be laid up sure enough for thy finding.  
What shall I tell thee of the thefts, the tyrannies, the impudencies, and the villainies, that daily pass in your Inns and Victualling-houses? There is neither the fear of God, nor of his Ministers amongst them: and for matter of justice, either there is none at all to be had against them, or else they take part with them: But God forbid, that we should believe any such things of them; for it is not to be supposed, that your justices will be corrupted: But be it so or not so, take it as you will, the remedy thereof were a matter of no small importance. For it is a thing worthy the following, that many Wain-men, and those that go up and down with Carriages, do refrain their Trading, through the great expense and charges of your Inns. Traffic ceaseth every where, out of the fear that they have to be bitten by your Hosts, and Victuallers, who receive good payment for evil usage, professing a kind of public theft.  
I have been an eyewitness of seeing many things touching these kind of insolences; which to deliver, would require a large Discourse. And should we hear the like amongst Barbarians, we should censure them accordingly; and yet, when we see the same here at home before our eyes, we are not moved thereat. But I swear unto you, that 
b Profitable conveniences for Travellours.  the mending of the high ways, the repairing of Bridges, and the reforming of Inns, is not that which requires less care, than matters of greater moment, in regard of commerce and traffic. Howsoever, when I shall leave this house, I have not far to go.   

CHAPTER II.  
How Guzman de Alfarache leaving his Host, went begging to Madrid; and coming thither, how he set himself to learn to play the Rogue, and to bear a Basket; where by the way he discourseth of Hunger, of Beggary; and of Honour which hurteth the soul.  
THIS being too lazy a life for me, I did not like it half well; and the less, for that it did not sort to my purpose. For I was no better (to speak the best of it) than an Innkeepers Boy, which is somewhat worse than a blindman. I had a mind to be a Traveller, and thereon had set up my resolution, and therefore would not (though it had cost me a thousand lives) have been found there in such a base Office, as that was. There did daily pass by the door many haggard-Hawkes, young wand'ring Lads, much about my years and growth; some with money in their purse, others begging an alms for God's sake: whereupon I said with myself, What a devil ails me? or what scurvy metal am I made of, that I should be more cowardly, and baser-minded than other men? in that I am not sensible, how much I wrong myself; and out of a faintheartedness, and like a Craven (as I am) should stoop to pick out a poor living, out of such a dunghill kind of life, as this? Hereupon I took heart unto me, and set a good face on the 
Cuzman resolves to part with his Host.  matter; and so bidding mine Host God bye, I went forth to seek my fortune, carrying some Copper-money along with me, gotten in a good war; and some other lawful purchases that I made: but my store being small, it was quickly gone. When all was spent, I fell a begging: some would give 
Guzman falls a begging.  me an 
a Ochavo, is a kind of brasse-money, whereof two make three farthings.  Ochavo; but most would say unto me, Pardon me (my Boy) I have not for you.  
With this poor Ochavo, and other his fellows, I did eat now and then with a gaudeamus, according to my gettings: but this Pardon me (my Boy) I have not for you, did me no good in the world: I might have sat down with a pereamus, for any comfort that I found in it. Charity was very cold, and it was no marvel; for it was a dear year, and there was a general scarcity throughout the Kingdom. And if there were a dearth in Andalusia, how great then must the want be in the Kingdom of Toledo? and far greater in the Inland. Then I heard that Proverb verified, Librete Dios de la enformedad que baxa de Castilia, y de hambre, que sube del Andaluzia, 
b When there is a Plague in Castille, the insetion is general. And when there is a a famine in Andaluzia, the dearth is over all the Land. Guzman leaves begging. What shift he makes to live. Guzman comes to Madrid; and in what kind of fashion.  God deliver thee from the Plague, that comes down from Castille, and from the Famine that comes up from Andaluzia.  
Now, because I found begging to be but a poor Trade, and all things else at excessive rates; food and raiment being dear commodities, I grew so out of heart therewith, that I resolved to follow that occupation no longer, though my wants should be never so great. Hereupon, I was minded to make the best I could of those clothes that I had on my back: then I began to unbind the Book, and to divide it into Leaves: that is, to separate one thing from another, that all might not go away at once; sorting my clothes into several parcels, consuming one piece after another, till all was gone; selling this, chopping that, and pawning t'other, till I had not a rag left.  
So that when I came to Madrid, I looked like one that had newly come from the Oar, or some gentile Rower returned lately from the Galleys, I was so lightly clad, having nothing on but a Canvas pair of Breeches, and a course Shirt; & that none of the cleanest, but as foul as foul might be; all to tattered and torn, and so rotten with age, that it was ready to fall from my back. And this I was forced to do, to keep life and soul together, and all little enough to serve the turn.  
Seeing myself thus out of reparations, and all to be rend and torn; howbeit I sought after Service, thinking to win credit with my good words, no man would trust me the more for my fair tongue, but grew rather jealous of my evil conditions; insomuch that I could not meet with any that would give me entertainment, admit me into his service, or suffer me to come within his doors, because I was without a Cloak, and so nasty in my other clothes; that out of a very loathing, they were able to turn a man's stomach. They did think, that I was some roguish little Thief, and that if they should take me in, I would filch some thing from them, and betake me to my heels when I had done.  
Seeing myself in this desperate state, counting myself, as it were a lost man, I began to follow the Trade de la Florida Picardia, exercising all your Coney-catching tricks, knavish pranks, fine feats, with slight of hand, and whatsoever Rogueries come within the compass of that prowling office. The shame that I had to return home, I lost it upon the way; for travelling afoot as I did, it weighed so heavy, that I was not able to bring it along with me: or perhaps, they that stole my Cloak, carried it away with them in the Cape thereof; and this is sure the likelier of the two. For ever since that time I have been troubled with a lazy kind of yawning, and a * Fever-lordane, 
ᵃ The Spanish word is Calofrio: Lat. Paroxysmus, frigus si●…ul & calorem inducens: & nomen habet à calido & frigido. Hunger and Shame, mortal enemies. Guzman begins to ●…rne Ticaro.  which did prognosticate the Disease I should be sick of to my dying day. A Pocks upon Shamefastness, which hung still upon me, and yet I had none of it; for I began to free myself from that irksomeness, and that little shame that was left me, I turned into ●…mpudencie: for Hunger and Shame could never yet be made friends. My former Modesty (I confess) was merely out of my shallowness of wit, and now I find, that it was even then a foolish kind of Simplicity. And in those days, I played the child, as others of my age do: but now, like a viper, that hath stung me unawares by the hand, I have shaked that Vermin from off my finger's ends. I fell in with other Tasselgentles, much about my size and pitch, that were high Flyers, and cunning in the catching of their prey. As I saw them do, so did I, as well as I could: but because I was but newly entered, and was not yet come to that true flying to seize the Partridge in foot, I did assist them with my best endeavours, refused no pains, followed their steps, and walked their stations; whereby I came to pick up my crumbs, and to gather a few Blanks together. Thus I sailed up and down, fetching my boards to and fro, still sounding as I went along, to see how many fathom I was off from the shore, and what new Country was upon discovery.  
I could now hunt out for my supper, as well as the best of them, and knew certainly where to have it; but I was to take heed, that I played the true Clock-keeper: for if I failed of my hour, (especially at your Monasteries, and Religious Houses) and did not truly keep the due time, limited and prescribed by them, I was shut out, and left in the dark: so that I had now learned the fashion, to show myself a mannerly Guest, by staying rather for 
Need is a diligent ●…ayter.  others, th●…n that others should stay for me. This loitering kind of life was not without its cares; and as idle as it seemed to be, it was painful enough unto me: for, while I led this Roguish life, I learned to play at Cock-All, at Handy-Pandy, and at Nine-holes▪ from these I went a Form higher; I knew how to play at Noddy, One-and-thirty, Quinolas, and Primera: in a short time I profited so well in these my studies, that I passed on to the upper Form. I could cog a die handsomely, and if I had good luck, all was mine own (especially if I met with weak Gamesters.) Nor would I change this life of a Picaro, this roguish life of mine, for the best that any of my Ancestors ever led.  
I had a month's mind to the Court; and I went daily refining my wit; I set a new edge upon my understanding, and enriched my brain with new Philosophy. And seeing others of lesser worth than myself to grow from a little, to a great deal of wealth; and from mean beginnings, to come to mighty matters, and to eat their bread without begging, nor expecting it from others hands, (which is the bread of sorrow, and the bread of blood) yea though it should be bestowed upon thee by thine own father: out of a desire 
Bread of Sorrow, what 〈◊〉 is.  that I had to attain to this glorious liberty; and that I might not (as many others) be punished as a Vagabond, and run the censure of a wand'ring Rogue, I applied myself to carry such burdens, as my weak shoulders were able to bear.  
The Fraternity of Asses is a great Brotherhood; for, even men have been willing to be admitted into this Company; and have been glad to yield themselves to carry unclean and heavy Loads, with as much patience, as the silliest Ass alive, as if they had been borne for no other end, but to ease them of their burdens. Now, if men are grown to that basen●…sse, that they will quite the Ass of his Hamper, and clap it on their own backs, only to gain an 
a Açumbre is a Ia●… or Pitcher, containing about a Pottle, little more or less, and is one man's all●…wance in wine. The Açumbre we di●… into four Measures, called Quartillo's. It is an Arabic word. All things are hard in the beginning.  Açumbre more of Wine, that they may drink the freelier, when they have done their work: see in what ample manner their Assishnesse extendeth itself; what a strong hand it hath in the world, and to what a mighty Corporation it is now grown.  
But to let this pass, I confess unto thee, that I was somewhat cold in the matter at the first, and fell to it with an ill will; but above all, I was wonderful fearful: for being a thing that I was never used to before, it suited ill-favouredly with me at the first, and worse afterwards, when I was entered into it: for all beginnings have their difficulties; and are not so easy at the first as they seem to be: but after I had taken a relish of this Roguish life, and found the sweetness of it, I could tread the true Tracke of it, and was grown so perfect, that I could have gone blindfold to my work, and not have stepped a foot out of the way.  
What a fine kind of life was it, what a dainty and delicate thing without Thimble, Thread, or Needle; without Pincers, Hammer, or Wimble, or any other Mechanical Instrument whatsoever, more than one only bare Basket; like unto those of your Brethren of the Order de Anton Martin, (though unlike to them in their goodness of life, and solitary retiredness) I had gotten me an Office whereby to live: and such a kind of Office, as seemed to be a bit without a bone; a back, without a burden; a merry kind of Occupation, and free from all manner of trouble and vexation?  
I did often think on the life that my Parents led; and that, which I had made trial of in this so short a time; as also, that which they had undergone to so little purpose, and to their so great cost. O▪ (said I to myself) what a burden is the weight of Honour? And what metal is there, that can equal 
Honour, what a burden it is.  it in poise? To what a world of inconveniences, is that man liable, who is driven to make use of it? How warily, and how circumspectly must he go to work? What a deal of care, and sudden passions, come upon him? What high and slender ropes must he run up and down upon? Thorough how many thousands of perils must he sail in this vast Ocean? Into what infinite troubles must he thrust himself? And amidst how many Brambles, and Bushes, and pricking▪ Thorns, must he im-bryer, and entangle himself withal, and scarce get out of them, without leaving his ●…ece behind him, if not his skin? What a thing is it, that my honour must be subject to the mouth of the dissolute, and to the hand of the indiscr●…t and unadvised man? The one by word, the other by action. Against which, all the wit and force of man is not able to prevail, nor to turn that unruly tide, when it shall break in upon us. What frenzy of Sa●…n, what malice of the Devil was it, to marry this foul Abuse unto Man, which is able to make him run mad, and irrecoverably to lose his wits? As if he did not know, that Honour 
True Honour, is the Daughter of Truth.  is the Daughter of Truth. And see how much a man is Virtuous, so much is he Honourable, and no more. And it is impossible, that my honour should be taken away from me, as long as my Virtue remains with me, which is its proper Centre. Only mine own Wife may take away mine honour from me (according to the opinion of Spain) by taking away first her 
The honour of a man's Wife, what it is.  own: for she being one and the selfsame thing with myself, my Honour and hers are one, and not two, as being but one, and the same flesh; and whatsoever shall be said in the contrary, it is but scurrility, mere wit and invention, and the idle dreams of a fantastic brain. Happy is that man's life, that neither knows what Honour means, nor seeks after it, nor hath any thing to do with this Titulary top.  
I was ever of the mind, that if that man that pretends Honour, should but truly open his eyes, & look upon it without partiality, considering (not carried away with passion) the effects thereof, he would not stoop to take it up; nor touch that with his hand, whose burden must either break his back, or make him sink under the weight thereof to the ground. O how troublesome a thing is it, first to get it? how difficult afterwards to keep it? how dangerous to hold, how easy to lose, as depending on the common estimation and opinion of men? But if it rely upon the Vulgar, and that be the 
What the honour of the Vulgar is.  prop that must up-hold it, it is one of the greatest torments that Fortune can give, or man suffer in this life, who desires to end his days quietly, and to pass his Career peaceably, without being crossed in his Course. And albeit men plainly perceive, that this which I say is true, and they see the experience thereof daily before their eyes, yet they will not stick to hazard their lives; nay to give their very Souls for it, as if that should save them another day.  
Thou thinkst it no honour unto thee, to clothe the naked, to feed the hungry, nor to exercise (as thou oughtest) those good deeds, that belong to thy 
Christian Honour, what it ought to be.  function, and many other things, which I know, and am silent in; and thou knowest them to thyself, though thou dost dissemble them; thinking that others perceive it not, and that thou carriest things closely, when as indeed thou dancest but as it were in a net, and all thy actions lie open to public view, which my pen shall omit to set down, that I may not point them forth unto thee as it were with the finger, and whereof perhaps, when I shall have delivered thee my mind, thou wilt make no more, if not less reckoning of it, then of a blast of wind, or a puff of smoke, that presently vanisheth, and is no more seen.  
Canst thou think it an Honour unto thee, that the Hospital should be maintained with the droppings of thy Tap, and the Scraps of thy Kitchen, (when there is not a Dog, that waits at thy Trencher, but fares better?) Canst thou think it an honour unto thee, that thy Mules should have their Linen and their Woollen clothes, whilst Christ (in his members) dies out of very cold, not having wherewith to cover his nakedness? Canst thou think it an Honour to thee, that thy Horses should be as fat as their skins can hold, that they are even ready to burst again with the fullness of their feeding, while the poor fall down at thy gate for want of food, their weak legs not being able to support their hunger st●…ued bodies? No, thou canst not. And I presume, the practice of every good Christian is far otherwise. And this is that honour, which every man ought highly to esteem, and may justly seek, and hunt after it. But that which thou callest honour, may more properly be termed Pride, or foolish estimation, which makes men fall into Hectics, and P●…ysicks, and with a canine appetite to catch greedily at that Honour, which is no sooner had, then lost. And not only that, but with it the Soul; (which is a thousand pities) which every good Soul ought to avoid, and bewail.   

CHAP. III.  
Guzman de Alfarache goes on in his Discourse against vain Honours: Wher●…▪ by the way he offers unto Man's consideration, what manner of person he ought to be▪ how to bear himself in his Office, and to govern himself in those high places, whereunto he is called.  
ALBEIT, (as being then but a Youth) and newly (as they say) 
Honour, how prettily it is here compared.  crept out of the shell, this being the first flight that ever I made, I had run thorough many miseries, and suffered much want, yet I passed them all over as easily as I could; imagining still in my mind, that Honour is like unto your early fruits, that are sooner ripe than the rest, and brought first into the Market, which though they be excessive dear, & not to be had, but at a high rate, and unmeasurable prices; yet all do equally buy them, and pay alike for them, even from him, that hath a purse to bear it, as from him, that hath not the like ability. What a great presumption and shame is it, that a poor Husbandman should buy half a pound of your first Cherries that come into the market, which may chance to cost him the price of so much bread, as would very well serve to sustain himself, his Wife, and his Children? O holy Laws, and O happy Kingdoms, that shall put a bridle to this abuse, as a thing tending to the general hurt of a Commonwealth! For (there being no restraint in that kind) they buy, and eat thereof without limit, or moderation, never growing weary of buying, nor glutted with eating: Which too timely, or rather untimely fruits, breed no good nutriment, corrupt the blood, cause raw concoction, and engender evil humours, which afterwards pay their bodies with sound Agues, sharp Fevers, strange Parasismes, and other the like grievous, and painful infirmities.  
I swear by the faith of an honest man, that such a devouring of Honour, will cost thee more than one purge. I was never ambitious in this kind, never greedy of this honour, never gave it a good look, since I first knew it; especially, when I saw Pages, Servingmen, and Prentices forsake their old Trades, to follow new courses, and to get themselves into some odd Office, 
Honour ill placed upon so●…e.  or other, as far repugnant from their nature, as heat, from cold, and as much differing from their disposition, as heaven is distant from the earth. Yesterday, thou wouldst have sent thy Servant to one of these fellows, to will him to come to thee, and when he had come, given him an Ha, or a Nod, or a plain 
a Counted a disgraceful word in Spain. As if here in England we should in scorn Thou a man.  Vos, which was as much, if not more, than he deserved. And now that he hath got but an Office upon his back, he sends the next day for thee by a Porter, where thou must sue and entreat that he will befriend thee in such a business, and stand with cap in hand, crouching unto him, giving him the Worship, with a Sir-reverence at every word, beseeching him, that his Worship would be pleased to do you this or that favour.  
Tell me, is not that true of this man, which is spoken of that proud Bird the Peacock, who t' other day having scarce ever a feather to cover his nakedness, doth now boast his silken plumes, and spread abroad his golden train? If this be true, it must likewise then follow, that when this painted puff shall have his tail plucked, all his gilded feathers, and rich embroideries taken from him, which natures richest hand hath so curiously wrought; if any misfortune befall such a man, and that he once come to be stripped of his honours, down goes his goodly train, and his plumes being pulled from him, is just the same man, as he was before.  
And if you shall but weigh and consider this thing well, you shall find such 
Touching Honour, and the honoured.  men as these, not to be men of Honour, but men honoured; for they that are truly honourable, have this honour from, and in themselves, and no man can so pill and pull their feathers, but that fresher and goodlier plumes will come up anew in the place, and be more glorious to look to then before.  
But the honoured, that receive their honour from another, one while you see them; another while you not see them. So long as the merry month of May lasteth, so long are your flowers fresh and fair to see to: As these flowers, so are those favours, which the Favourite receiveth from the Prince, or person that favours him. They soon fade; they had but their time, and that's gone, and they with it: And then they return to be the same men they were before.  
Whilst the sap is in the bough, it is green and flourisheth; but when it goes back into the root, it dies and withereth for the time. So it stands with your Favourite; his Honour flourisheth like the green Bay-tree, while his Prince's favour shines upon him; but when he calls this in again unto himself, as the tree doth the sap, and it returns to the root from whence it came, his honour is nipped in the head, and is no better (if not much worse) than he was before his rising. So have I seen some men mounted on high, employed in great affairs, and to have held great places of Dignity and honour in the Commonwealth, which might have been put into the 
A reprehending of those that are So●…s and Do●…s, and yet seek a●…ter Offices, and Places of great preferment.  hands of Gentlemen of approved good judgement, and excellent parts, and thought themselves happy, if they had been conferred and bestowed upon them.  
To these men I have called as I have lain in my bed, and cried out unto them: How now (my friends) whither away go ye with these Offices? Who (if they hear me) might very well answer: I vow to God, I know not myself: I think they are therefore given us, that we should make our profit of them, feather our nests, and enrich ourselves, as well as we can. But thou dost not consider (wretched as thou art) that the burden which thou bearest, thou neither truly understandest, nor is it properly belonging to thy profession: and that in losing thine own Soul, thou overthrowest withal another man's business, and art bound in conscience to make him recompense, for the wrong thou hast done him.  
Dost thou not know, that there belongs more to the dispatch of business, and deciding of differences betwixt party and party, than there doth to the sowing of a Garment, or the shearing of Cloth, or tolend such a Gentlewoman your arm, when you Usher her along the streets; which grace she vouchsafes to afford thee, for that hands sake, which did advance thee?  
Peradventure, thou mayst have been asked the question, or thyself mayst perhaps have made some secret scrutiny in thine own bosom, whether thou didst find thyself of ability and sufficiency to perform thy charge; or whether thou hadst the knowledge and understanding to do things well and handsomely, without wronging thy Conscience, going thyself to hell, and carrying him along with thee, that did confer thy Office upon thee? But some babbling fellow hereabouts, which I suppose to be some one Barbers man or other, (for they are commonly a kind of Climacterical and dangerous prattlers) will give me this short answer: We can. It is a strange thing to see the humours of some men. Consider with me (for God's sake) what business hath with it so many tricks, so many shifts, and so many difficulties, as hath this? We are all of us men (the best of us are no more) and when the wheels are once set a-work, we imagine, they must go well enough of themselves, without any care, or looking to of ours. O what a pity is it, that thou shouldst then begin to learn an Office, when thou shouldst come to use it! O what a grief, to see a man's practice outrun his knowledge! he being as unfit for the Place, as the place for him.  
The Pilot is fearful of governing his Ship, (not only in tempestuous weather, but at all times, even in the calmest Sea, and fairest Season; by reason of those sudden accidents, and various casualties, which hourly, nay, every minute may befall him) although he be his Arts-master, and throughly understands, what he hath to do upon all occasions. And thou, which never sawest the Sea, wast never taught thy Compass, nor know'st what belongs to the Art of Navigation: Wilt thou, I say, venture to steer a Ship, and engulf thyself, thou know'st not whither, no●… into what danger? What wouldst thou think or say, when thou seest a Boy fumble on the Cittern, and when he should come to play before thee, not to be able to strike a true note; what a tearing would this be to thine, or any other musical ear? O how harsh would it sound? And yet all this while, thou dost not, or wilt not perceive, that when thyself comest to understand thy Place, or to think, that thou understandest it (which is the truer of the two) for want of knowledge, thou hast not only lost that, but thy Lords love together with it, and the time which thou hast spent, and nothing left to comfort thee withal, but the fooleries, which thou hast committed therein. Follow thine own trade, and exercise thyself in those things, thou well understandest, thrust not thy Sickle into another man's Harvest, and meddle not with those things, that are fitter for others, than thyself. But this is not so much thy fault, as of those that thrust it upon thee, who have more, than thou, to answer for it: it is a Commutation, that lies heavily upon the Conscience. But to proceed.  
Even now, but to day, have I known these kind of men, mean, poor, and miserable creatures; on the morrow after, they have risen up in a strange fashion, utterly unknown unto me (like him that dies his Beard, or being old and strooken in years, grows to be young again,) exalted, and set aloft, looking big upon the matter, expecting to have the first Cap, and to be first saluted by those, whose servants they might well have been, and that in mean and base offices, and yet have thought it preferment good enough for them. I knew very well, which way he would go, that led the dance; & whence this violence did proceed, by altering things, and putting them out of their due course, thrusting out the naturals, to bring in strangers. I likewise was not ignorant, that those that did murmur and repine thereat, had good reason so to do; for by giving unto every one, that which of right belongeth unto him, the gall of Envy and Malice is thereby broken and split in sunder. For it is an case to the sick stomach of a State, when Offices seek men, and not men Offices, whence great scandal and infamy doth arise. For by how much the more high Places make them to be known, that do not deserve them, by so much the more they mak●… the owners of them to be contemned and despised. And these undeserved dignities▪ go not away without their payment. For as they are an affront to those that hold them, when they are unworthy of them; so they suffer dishonour in themselves, by being conferred on such undeserving persons; Leaving him likewise, who did bestow them, subject to In●…amy, Detraction, and Obligation to make satisfaction to the State, for the wrongs occasioned thereby.  
here I alight, and make a stand, shutting up my conceit within its bounds, that it may not straggle too far. This ware I sell you as mine own, and recommend it unto you for good, unless you undervalue it for the cellar's sake. And I must needs confess, that this offspring of my brain is worthy a better father. But do thou dispose of it, and compose it, according as thyself shall think fit, by amending such faults as thou findest amiss. And though it be a beggar's Brat, and the son of a Rogue, yet conceive withal, that we are all men, and have all of us understanding; and that El habito no 
Cucullus non facit Monachum.  haze el 'Mong: it is not the Cowl, that makes the Friar. Yet in this, as in all things else, I submit myself to thy censure, and am willing to receive thy correction.  
Now by this time, thou knowest my weakness, notwithstanding I would have thee to know, that there was not that day went over my head, wherein I did not run over my beads, besides other devotions that I did. And although I hear thee murmur, that it is a common practice amongst Thiefs and Ruffians, to have their 
a Rosario. Las cu●…ntas para rezar. Latin, Sphaerulae, Precatoriae, Corona.  Rosario still in their hand, feigning themselves to be very devoutly affected towards our Lady: Think, and say what thou wilt, I care not a rush, for I desire not thy good opinion, nor seek to win any credit from thy mouth. Every morning, the first thing that I did, was to go to Church to hear Mass; that being done, I afterwards began presently to cast about, how I should spend that day, for the getting of something to sustain myself withal, and to keep me from starving.  
I once remember, that having lain somewhat long a-bed, and finding myself not half currant, I thought it not fit, that day, to take any pains for my living: it was a Festivall-day, and to Church I went, where I heard high Mass, and a very good Sermon by a learned Augustine, upon the fifth 
A Discourse upon the S. o●… Mat.  Chapter of S. Mathewes Gospel, where it is said; Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in Heaven: where by the way, he bestowed a little sprinkling upon your Clergymen, your Prelates, and such as were beneficed: telling them, That they 
Clergymen charitably reproved of their faults.  had not these great Rents given them for nothing; that they were to look rather upon the greatness of their charge, then into the greatness of their Revenue; and that these good things were not conferred upon them, to fill the belly, and to clothe the back, and to waste and consume these good blessings of God in unnecessary idlements; but in feeding the poor, and clothing the naked, and in dispensing to the needy, and those that are in necessity; over whom God had set them as Stewards, and no otherwise; or to speak more properly, hath appointed them his Administrators over this his Hospital. And that in putting this Steward-ship or Administration into their hands, it was more particularly thrown upon them, than any other, as on men of all other the most to be trusted, and (by reason of their Profession) lest interessed in the World: mercifull-minded men, wholly retired from the world, and from those confusions which accompany it; to the end, that with the more care, and the less trouble, they may apply themselves to this Ministry, wherewith they were entrusted.  
Would to God they would open their eyes, and look to whom they give, how, and on what they do distribute it; for it is another's money, and not their own, whereof a strict account will be taken of them. Let them not therefore abuse the trust, that is reposed in them; God never sleepeth; he is still awake and se●…th all our Actions. Nor will it boot them to use tricks and devices to defraud him but in a Farthing, or to cousin him of the least Mite. For as it is the gain of judas, so shall they receive judas his reward. He said in the general, that their manners and behaviour should be like unto the Lantern●… in the Admiral, to the rest of the Fleet, by whose light, all the rest 
What manner of ●…en Church-m●…n ●…ght to be.  of the Ships should steer their Course, and still have an eye upon it, without troubling themselves in other worldly affairs, and matters of profit to their purse, which is contrary to their Profession, and to that obligation, whereunto they are bound by God's Word, which cannot lie.  
I remember ver●… well, 〈◊〉 then call to mind a certain friend of my fathers, how ill he disposed 〈◊〉 which he had got, and the ill example which he left behind him: this was his end; and with this the Preacher ended.  
Many other excellent good things did he utter to this purpose, and strongly confirmed what he delivered with forcible reasons; which for the indecencie of my profession, I willingly silence; nor is it fitting for a man of my fashion, to make mention of them.  
That night my sickness increased upon me; my bed was none of the best, nor much softer than a piece of an old Matt, that is full of holes, and thrown 
Guzman's miserable condition.  upon the dunghill, as good for nothing. The cattle went grazing on the humane Pasture of my miserable corpse; I awaked with their nibbling▪ fell a scrubbing, and finding no disposition in myself to sleep, I made a repetition of the whole Sermon to myself; as one, that understood very well, that 
Every man, even the meanest, is bound to be virtuous, and to have a good conscience.  albeit his speech tended more particularly towards Churchmen, yet it did in the general appertain unto all; from the Mitre to the Crown; from the most powerful Prince, to such a poor Caitiff as myself. Lord be merciful unto me, I began to think with myself, that this did as well concern me as them: and that I was a kind of Something; that I had a soul to save as well as they; and that there was some reckoning to be made of me too. Then I began to examine myself, What light am I able to give to others; or how can it be had, much less, shine in a man, whose office is so vile, and so base as mine? Yes (my friend) quoth I: and it belongeth also unto thee, and therefore I speak it unto thee; for thou likewise art a member of this mystical Body, equal with the greatest in substance, though not in quality. Bear thy burdens well and faithfully; make not your Vintage out of other men's Grapes; do not nimme and purloin by the way; conveying from the Basket to the Breeches, into pri●…y Pockets, and false Linings, that which is none of thine. Do not shrink the shoulder, as if thou hadst the dead weight of Plate upon thy back; and do not thou move as slowly, when thou hast but two Loaves to carry, as when thou art laden with two Beams, or main pieces of Timber.  
Make a conscience of thy gettings; be moderate and temperate in thy 
What your Porters that carry baskets, and the like burdens, aught to do.  gains; not demanding more than thy labour is worth; use all men well, but bestow thy pains on the poor for nothing; offering that freely, as thy first fruits due unto God. Be not dishonest, be not vicious, be no Glutton, nor no Drunkard: call thy conscience to an account, be sure to keep a true score and reckoning with it: for, in so doing (like that poor old woman in the Gospel) thou canst not want the comfort of lifting up thy heart, and thy eyes unto Heaven, saying; Blessed be the Name of the Lord. For even in Rogues there is some virtue, some spark of goodness; and this in thee shall be thy Light.  
But in my judgement, both now, and then when I heard the Sermon, (that we may return again to our former consideration) what he spoke (besides that which concerned the Clergy and the Communality) had especial reference unto Princes, and their ministers of justice, whereof I should have spoken when I made this my Digression. These are truly said to be the Light; and in that sacred Chapter-house, or in the greatest part thereof, all is Light, 
Light, how it ought to be in those that be are Office.  more and more Light still, to the end (to leave them the more inexcusable) that they may not allege hereafter, that they had not any Light at all. Consider with me, that the Light ought to subsist (as the Agent) in some subject (as the Patient) whereon to work. As for example, in the Wax, be it Torch, or any other thing whatsoever. I say then, that when any such kind of person, be it another, or be it thyself, shall represent himself, as a Light unto me, thy good works, thy fair behaviour, thy civil carriage, thy zeal, thy 
Rules for him that governs others.  holiness of life, is that which makes thee to shine, and to give Light unto others. What thing is it then, thinkst thou, to have an Office thrown upon thee, or some great dignity or other? It is a putting of Wax to this Light, to make it shine the more: but tell me then, what is the office of the Light? It is to go with his heat, drawing and sucking the Wax still towards him, that it may burn the brighter, and maintain itself the better. Even so must thou do with thy Office; thou must drink it in, as it were, and incorporate it into this Light of thy virtues, and honest course of life, that all men may see it, and imitate it, bearing thyself so uprightly, that prayers may not move thee, tears may not soften thee, gifts may not corrupt thee, menaces may not daunt thee, anger may not overcome thee, hatred may not disturb thee, nor affection deceive thee. Again, which offers itself first to our sight, the Light, or the Wax? You will grant me, the Light: if so, then so behave thyself, that thy Office, which is the Wax, may be seen after thee; and 
Offi●…rs compared to the 〈◊〉, and to Wax.  that the Office may be known by thee, and not thou by the Office. It often so falls out, that the Wax is much, and the Light is little; whereby the Light comes to be drowned and quenched in it; as in case the Torch should be great, and the Week small. Other-times it happeneth, that the Light is turned 
Bad Officers, and their evil effect●….  downwards; and so by melting the Wax above, it is presently extinguished and put out.  
So we see, that the good in thyself is so little, and the Office which thou art put into, is so far beyond the measure of thy Merit, that that little Light thou hast, is smothered on the sudden, and so thou remainest in darkness. Otherwhiles, thou turnest these thy virtues towards the ground, by inclining thyself unto evil: for thou dost make thy Office to melt as it were at the top, and to waste and consume its light, by thy robbing, by thy cozening, by thy over-commanding, and contemning the poor: using in his Cause, delays; in that of the rich, all possible speed: with the poor thou dealest rigorously; with the rich, gently and mildly: on the one thou frownest, on the other thou smilest: the poor thou proudly tramplest under thy feet; but the rich thou salutest with Cap in hand; bowest thy body, using him in all the rest, with a great deal of love and kindness. And while this is in doing, Death comes on thee unawares; it seizeth suddenly upon thee, thy life is quickly at an end, but thy damnation remaineth for ever. Others there are, who (as I said before) draw Light from their Office; and whereas they themselves ought to be the Light, they are indeed but the Wax. Wouldst thou know the condition of these men, and what they do? I will tell thee: What, I pray, is the property of Wax? To go by little and little, wearing and wasting away; haling the Light violently after itself, till they both go toppling out, vanish away at last, and come to nothing. Just so is it with these kind of men; they live in that manner, (hiding their Light under a Bushel, concealing their good Works, and burying all Virtue and Goodness in them) that they make no use of it, nor esteem it: only they esteem the Office, which they have made their Light: this, they go forcing, as it were, by violence, they tug and hale it unto them, that they may incorporate it into themselves, that they may reap their profit by it, skim the Cream from it; and not only that, but to draw away its very heartblood. And so by little and little, together with it, they themselves likewise consume away. Ill they lived, and ill they die: as was their life, so was their end. What doth he think with himself, that suffers himself to be made Wax, when he taketh from one that which is his right, or that which he justly deserveth, and doth transfer it on a fool, or some un-worthy person, whom he hath a desire to pleasure? Shall I tell thee what becomes of this man in the end? He melts and drips away like Wax, not knowing how, nor which way he comes to be consumed: his health decays, his honour diminisheth, his wealth wastes away, his friends fail him, his wife, his children, and his kinsfolk, are taken from him by Death; on whom, as on the props of his house, leaned all his 
God ●…sheth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 what manner.  pretensions, he is swallowed up with Melancholy, as it were in a grave, or some deep pit, yet knows not the cause why, nor whence it should proceed. But the cause (my friend) is, that these are the whips of God, wherewith he scourgeth them temporally in this world, in that part which shall pain them most, besides that which he reserveth for their farther punishment, in the world to come. And his divine Majesty, for the comfort of the righteous, is willing, that those, that do dissolutely sin, by doing public and open wrongs, contrary to all right and reason, should be corrected in the sight of men, and in the open view of all the world, to the intent that they may magnify him in his justice, and draw consolation unto themselves from his mercy, which is also made known in the chastisement of the wicked.  
Wouldst thou live in health? wouldst thou be cheerful and merry? wouldst thou continue free from those disturbances, which might give thee cause to lament? wouldst thou abound in riches? and lead a contented life without melancholy? Take then this rule of me; Make thy daily account 
A good lesson for those that desire, to live well and happily.  with God, confess thyself unto him every day, as if that very day thou wert to dye.  
Let justice be observed by thee in that manner, as it is defined and set down unto thee, giving to every man that which is his due: Eat of the sweat of thine own brows, and not of the labours of other men; and to this end, store thou up such riches, as are well and truly gotten; so shalt thou live contentedly, so shalt thou be happy, and every thing shall prosper and thrive with thee, and all shall go well with thee and thine.  
In good sooth I am half afraid, that this consideration of mine hath led me on a little too far, where-into I have so far thrust in my foot, that I had need of some help to pull it out. I have launched out too much into the deep, and ingulphed myself before I was aware. I have almost lost myself in this business, in dilating upon this point, and should run out much more at random, if I should go about to tell you, why, and how, some of these things, are thus and thus carried, whether out of private interest, or affection, or passion, etc. But I will be silent, all shall be hush with me; for I will not (in these tongue-controlling days) that the Law take hold upon me. Secreta mea mihi: My secret I will keep to myself; I will lock it up close in mine own bosom: besides, good and discreet silence is counted a holy thing: Though in that which I have spoken, I acknowledge my excess, and confess I have (with the Cobbler) gone beyond my Last, this being a point of doctrine, fitter to be discussed by a 
Why Preachers refuse to reprove sin, and to cry out against it?  Preacher, than a Picaro. These barkings will require better mouthed Dogs. Let them stretch out their throats, and yawl aloud, that they may discover the thieves. But alas, it may happily, or rather unhappily be, that they have their mouths stopped with a crust, which makes them to hold their peace.   

CHAP. IU.  
Guzman de Alfarache delivereth a learned and witty Discourse, conceived by himself, against the Uanity of Honour: touching by the way upon the Vices of Servants, of Shopkeepers, of Notaries, of Proctors, of judges, of Artificers, of Apothecaries, of Physicians, and of Lawyers.  
I Have made a long and a tedious digression, and am well witting thereof to myself. But I would not have thee make it a matter of wonder; for the necessity that enforced me thereunto, was very great. And if two or more hurts meet in one and the selfsame body, it is good discretion to succour the more important, not being unmindful in the mean while of the lesser. So doth it often occur in War, and in all other things whatsoever. I assure thee by the faith of an honest man, that I am not able to tell thee, which of the two were the greater, either that which I did let alone, or that which I took in hand, considering how much both of them imported, and of what consequence they were. But let us redeem the Pawn that stands engaged, and return again to our former matter, following the pursuit of that Discourse, of whose footing, we have found the pricks already.  
It was my hap one day to bear in my basket, (which I brought from the Shambles) a quarter of Mutton, for a certain Hosier, or Gentleman Taylor. I had by chance at that time about me, certain old 
a Coplas, son cartas que venden por las call●…, y en las plaças los cicgos.  Coplas, or Ballads, which (in a kind of broken tune) still as I read this or t'other line, I fell a singing, as I went along. My good Master having (as it should seem) listened unto me, looked back on the sudden, and smiling, said; How now (my tottered Rascal) a pox take you for a ragamuffin, can you read, you Rogue? Yes marry can I, Sir, (quoth I) I thank God, I can read reasonable well, but my writing is better than my reading. Sayst thou me so, Boy? And with that he entreated me, that I would teach him to write his name, or to make some mark, that might serve for a subscription, or under-signing (he cared not 
A Tailor would fain learn to write his name, o●… to make his firma or mark. And the reason why?  which) for either would serve his turn. I pray Sir (said I) what good can this do you? What can you benefit yourself, by having learned to make a bare mark, and no more? Me thinks you should have no great use for that alone, unless you could write too. Yes marry have I, Sir (quoth he,) for I have much work goes through these hands, of such and such great men, I make all the clothes their children wear (and there by the way, he reckons me up a bead-roll of these and these Lords) and therefore I would very fain, (if I knew how) learn to write my Name, or to make my Mark, that (if occasion were offered) I might not be taken for an Ass, and say (like a fool as I am) when I am called to subscribe, Indeed, Sir, you must pardon me, I cannot write. And so this business broke off as abruptly, as it began. And I making a large Soliloquium, and meditation to myself, went on a good while with the same after this manner.  
here (Guzman) thou shalt see, what a kind of thing Honour is, seeing it 
Honour, what kind of thing it is?  is conferred on such as these: It is, the son of Nothing; the Child that knows neither father, nor mother; the Earth's offspring, being raised out of the dust thereof; it is a frail Vessel, full of cracks, of flaws, and of holes, uncapable of containing any thing in it, that is of any moment or worth▪ Favour hath endeavoured to mend this broken Bucket, and to stop the Leaks thereof with clouts and with rags; and putting thereunto the rope of private interest, now they draw up water with it, and it seemeth to be very beneficial 
H●…, compared to base persons.  and profitable unto them. It is one of Peter the Tailor's sons, whose father, howsoever he got it, were it well, or were it ill, made a shift to leave him something to live upon. Or like unto that other, who by stealing from others, got wherewithal to give, and wherewith to bribe, and suborn. These are the men that are honoured now adays, they speak high language, and utter arrogant words, and press into all your great Assemblies, and principal meetings, as if they were the only men, and none but they. These now take the upper hand, sit down first, and take place of all men, whom heretofore you might have ranked amongst your Muletters, or scarce so good men as they.  
Behold, how many good men have withdrawn themselves from the Court, and live a private and retired life at home? How many habits of St. jago, Calatrava, & Alcantara, sown with white thread? How many of the ancient Nobility of Zayn Caluo, and Nunno Rasura, trodden under feet? 
The more rich, the more honour.   
Tell me I pray, who is that that gives honour unto some, and takes it from other some? Marry, it is more or less wealth. O what a brave Canon is this, to qualify a man? what an excellent Rector, what a learned Schoolmaster? How discreetly do they graduate a man, what a good examination do they take, before they prefer any! Tell me once more I pray: What difference is there in their Obligation, between him that cometh fairly (as thou saidst before) by an Office; and him that buys an Office, whose money only (without any other merit) hath enthroned him in the Sancta Sanctorum of the world? Whence comes it to pass, that the man that is discreet, noble, virtuous, well descended, of a sound and sober judgement, long practice, & more experience, a true Master of his Art, should (by being deprived of his due preferment,) remain poor and needy, shut up in a corner, excluded from business, afflicted, and peradventure enforced to derogate from his own worth, and to do that which is not agreeable to his disposition, that he may avoid the incurring of a worse inconhevience? Thou hast put too hard a task upon me, considering that slender satisfaction, that I am able to give thee: But I shall tell thee, according to my talon, and as the poorness of my understanding shall give me leave.  
When I consider thereon, as a thing properly appertaining unto God 
God's secrets concealed from man.  (whose judgements are inscrutable, and hidden both from men and Angels) I shall not intermeddle, or strain myself any further therein, than the shortness of my apprehension shall be able to reach unto. Which is; That he very well knoweth, how to proportion his gifts, and to give unto every one so much as is needful for him, for his salvation. And therefore when a man shall fail of such or such an Office, or miss such or such a preferment, God saw it was not so fitting for him, for causes best known unto himself, or for that he fore-knew that it would be a means to work his condemnation, whom he is willing to save, because he hath predestinated him to a better place.  
And this is as much as can be said concerning him, who doth not obtain that, which he deserveth. But for that Favourite, or person of Power with his Prince, that shall either be a block in this man's way, or strip him of the Office that he worthily holdeth, who is not a judge of the inward intentions, nor of the hearts of men, neither is able to examine them; but must go upon trust, and make his judgement by external and outward things, (which he can only see and know) doth oftentimes tread awry, and pervert and wrest things to an ill sense: If it may be lawful for us to speak in a rustical phrase; applying the language of heaven, to that here on earth, I say, that upon the margin of this great man's Account, God doth (as we use here to do, when we will mark a thing the better, and look more narrowly into it) shut one of his eyes, to make his sight the surer, when he minds to hit the mark he aims at. I say then: I will demand of these men, what cause they had to do this wrong, knowing that my threatenings are out against them? O ye judges of the earth, because ye have judged unrighteously, I have prepared for you a hard and insufferable punishment: I will reside in the Synagogue of the gods, and I will judge them. O, what a grief is it, how many thousands of pities, that these men (knowing this to be true) will adventure to come before that upright and true judge, when the Accusation is certain, which is brought in to condemn them; and the restitution now wanting, which they ought to make; without the which, their sin cannot be forgiven them; and yet would not, when time served, take order to make amendment for so foul a fault▪  
True it is, that peradventure there were not some wanting, that would whisper them in the ear, and say; Sir, you may do this very well, and not sin, it is not a thing that ought to trouble your conscience, you did well, (which is no more than every wise man would do, were he in your place) in bestowing this Office, on that kinsman, that acquaintance, that friend, or servant of yours, which are nearest unto you. But (to speak the truth) thou couldst not do it; for thou didst remove it from its right place, and put it into that, which was unfit, and improper for it. Look over thy Cards a little better, think well on this business, and then thou wilt tell me (my friend) that it was an error in thee, and that thou couldst not do it; And because thou couldst not do●… it, thou didst sin; And because thou didst sin, it was not well done. Do not listen to the words of fools, nor of flatterers, in a thing that concerns thee so much as this doth: it were better for thee that thou wouldst gird up thy loins, and look unto that which may do thee hurt, and seek in time to prevent it, lest the remedy come too late. For there are some Confessors, that will give large Absolutions, who are like unto Tailors, who will tell thee, that the garment which they have made for thee, fits thee very well; but thou knowest better than they, whether it wring thee or no, whether it be too straight, and uneasy for thee, and how it sitteth to thy body. And God doth permit, because thou didst not seek after one (whilst thou wast living, and in place of authority) that should tell thee the truth; at the time of thy death, when thou art in thy last agony and anguish of soul, thou shalt not meet with that true friend, that shall then tell it thee, but rather soothe thee up to thy condemnation. Look about with thine eyes, open wide thine ears, and suffer not these busy Bees of Satan, to put honey into them, nor there to swarm and in-hive themselves. For these their sweet words will but lead thee on in the high and ready way to damnation.  
But to return again unto these kind of men, in respect of God, I doubt not of their punishment; And in regard of man, I must plainly tell thee, that they open the door to murmuration, and give occasion to the people, to speak thereof in public, not sticking to utter (as I said before) those ends which I thought should have been kept secret: taking pity and compassion of so many merits, so ill rewarded; and of so dis-proportionable an Exchange as this, in seeing the evil, by evil means, to be in highest esteem: and the good, by reason of their goodness, to be excluded, and shut out of all. But I can assure you, that God hath numbered all the hairs of their head, and will not suffer one of them to fall to the ground. Though men therefore may chance to fail them, yet let them comfort themselves with this, that they have a good God to friend, that will never forsake them. This is the World, and thus things go.  
I therefore will neither have Empire, nor Dignity; I will not have Honour, I will not so much as once look upon it. Keep thyself as thou art, (Guzman:) continue (my honest friend) the same man still. Let others (a God's name) be the Council of the Commonwealth, the Oracles of the State; let them never think upon thee; Enter not into that place, whence thou canst not get out, when thou wouldst: Do not put thyself into that danger, which may bring a continual fear with it; Desire not to have too much, lest it chance to be taken from thee; nor too little, lest thou be driven to beg; Do not pretend any thing by way of flattery: Do not entangle thyself in many businesses, lest they should disquiet thee: Seek to be the Vsufructuarie, and free injoyer of thy life, that by using of it well, thou mayst live safe in thy estate. Why shouldst thou keep a stir, and trouble thyself for that, which to morrow is to be no more, and when it is at the most, is of no iong continuance? What dost thou, or any man else know, is become of the Mayor-Domo to King Don Pelayo, or of the Chamberlain to Conde Fernan Gonçales? They had honour, and they held it, but neither of them, nor that, is any memory remaining. So shalt thou the next day be forgotten, as if thou hadst never been at all. Why then is there so much greediness, so much thirst, and so much coil; one for his belly, (for to so great a Vanity are w●… now grown, that to eat and waste much, is held no small reputation) another for his back, and a third for honour?  
No, no, these things are not for thee, and if thou offer to trouble thy thoughts with them, thou shalt not live to be an old man, or else thou shalt be old before thy time. Leave, leave off, I say, the swelling pride of these huge Giants, and thrust them up against the Walls; let them stand there, as Bugbears to fright children, as being good for nothing else.  
clothe thyself in the winter, with that which may keep thee Warm; and in the Summer, with that which may cover thee, not going too slovenly, nor too pompously▪ rather decently then richly; Eat no more than may suffice nature, preferring moderation before excess, for whatsoever is more than necessary, is merely superfluous. For by it, neither the rich man lives, nor the poor man dies. But the diversity and abundance of meats, is rather a disease then otherwise, breeding viscous and slimy humours, whence arise grievous sicknesses, and mortal Apoplexies.  
Twice, thrice, nay four times happy art thou, who risest in the morning 
Liberty, how pleasant a thing it is.  when thou wilt, and at what hour thyself listeth, without once thinking of serving, or being served by any body; for although it be a trouble to have a Master, it is also a trouble to have a servant, as you shall here by and by. At noon, feed freely, dinesecurely, run not upon the score with thy Cook, nor be indebted to thy 
a A Cater, that makes provision for victuals.  Dispensero, send not for thy Coals from the Merchant's Cellar, where they gather 
b In Spai●… they sell their coals by the pound.  wet and moisture, in stead where of they will bring thee in dust and stones, wherewith thou wilt be cozened; for there are more deceits in the world, than thou or any man else knows, save God alone. Seek not to excel in bravery, affect not too much neatness; fear not every spot that may fall upon thy clothes, be not in love with rich Embroideries; be not too careful to keep, nor too fearful to lose. Be not envious nor suspicious; Let no occasion move thee to lie; Do not purchase preferment by undermining of others, nor work not another man's Ruin, to work thyself into favour. Think it fitter for thee to go alone, then accompanied; a quick, than a slow pace: rather laughing then weeping; eating then dancing; without being noted by any. That is the best Tavern to thee, where thou meetest with the best Wine: And that the best Cooks shop, where thou lightest on the best morsel: In the Market place, thou mayst make choice of the best seat, and so thou mayst the like at all public Feasts. In the Winter, get thee into the Sun, in the Summer into the shade. Thou mayst cover thy Board according to thine own mind: thou mayst make thy Bed, according to thine own liking; without paying one penny either for the making or standing of it: And mayst choose, whether any man shall see thee, disquiet thee, or contradict thee. Keep thyself aloof from Law-businesses: live a stranger to Suits & Actions: free thyself from false Witnesses, for fear they should part thy goods amongst them, and become masters of all that thou hast. Let no man be able to ask thee a penny; keep thyself safe from Decrees; Beware how, and whom you trust, and upon what terms: but above all, (which will be no small glory unto thee) take heed, how thou becomest a surety for any man. Give no cause to have any executions come out against thee; nor thou to do the like against others: Shun all contentions and debates, and all manner of suits in Law. Last of all, rest thou satisfied and contented, so that nothing may oppress thee, nor break thy sleep, that thou mayst rise betimes in the morning to think upon those things that may turn to thy good, by reforming what is amiss.  
All men can not do all that they would; yet our good God is not forgetful of the poor, having opened a way unto him, whereby he may live contented; 
The poor man may, 〈◊〉 himself well, live happily.  not giving him more cold, than his body is able to bear, suiting his constitution, according to his clothes; so that he may pass in this world, as well as the rich, if he will but order and govern himself aright. But this life is not made alike for all men: And undoubtedly, the first inventor must be a most famous Philosopher; for so happy a reposedness, is to be supposed to have its beginning from some singular wit. And to speak truly, that which is not so, costeth much trouble. And those that do not so pass through this life, are the men that suffer, and pay for all:  
Walking through this world with many disturbances, contentions, and molestations; flattering, idolatrizing, carrying things away with a strong hand, plotting of tricks, violently haling by the hair, that, which neither aught to be suffered, nor is fit to be effected, or any way in the world to be borne withal; shutting their eyes all this while against that, which it concerns them to see; but are very sharp-sighted in looking to their profit, nothing shall pass by them then: They are Lynxes, and Eagle-eyed, when their prey is before them, though it were better for them in these things, to be as blind as the Beetle, or the Mole: For than they begin to lay their Nets, to pitch their Hays, fall a setting of Lime-twigs, watching how to put themselves forward, by making of Pitfalls, wherein to to entrap men, thinking to raise themselves, by the fall of others. For they doubt not of their own coming forward, if they can but once come to thrust others back. Vanity of Vanities, and nothing but Vanity.  
O what a grievous thing is it, that a man should suffer such a number of calamities, and for no other end only, but to uphold his frail and unfortunate 
What a troublesome thing Hon●… i●…?  honour from falling? And he that thinks he hath surest possession of it, lives but with so much the greater care to repair and maintain it. I returned again and again to consider thereon, never ceasing, nor never enough satisfied with the repeating of this saying: Happy, thrice happy thou, who hast wrapped Honour in a Coffin of Lead, and with strong cords, tying heavy stones thereunto, hast buried it in the Sea, whence it may never rise up any more, nor appear unto the world.  
I likewise began to think with myself, what a hurtful thing in a Family, 
Bad servants, what a ba●… they are to a house.  is a villainous, an ungrateful, a cozening, and a lying servant: whereof now a-dayes, the world is too full. And if we shall briefly decipher forth unto you such a manner of servant, you shall find him to be a Fool; a Sloven; a careless Companion; idle, lazy; a bag, filled with nothing but malice, and roguery; a Funnel, to pour in all manner of discord, and dissension; full of prattle, upon every slight occasion; and dumb, in those things, that are of any moment; ignorant, in speaking; and impudent, in grumbling.  
Shall I character forth unto you a Maid-servant, or a Nurse, that will serve 
The wickedness of 〈◊〉, and their 〈◊〉.  for any thing? You shall have her sluttish, thievish; with a Brother, a Parent, or a Kinsman, ever and anon ask for her, troubling thy house with daily visits; for, and with whom, she returns so many nights, every week, by retail; dividing that time amongst them in parcels, which she should lay out in the gross in thy service; devoted only to the love and service of her Sweetheart: earnestly desiring to see herself made Mistress of a Mantle: she will look for good maintenance, and be her wages never so good, that proportion will not serve the turn, but as she sees occasion, she will still be grating more and more upon thee: And you must over and besides, allow her her wine into the bargain, because forsooth her stomach is weak, and cannot digest her meat without it. If we will but look out into the street, which way so ever we turn our eye, we see every thing want somewhat in the fineness of its Loy and true touch, all is false, and without law, nothing that is perfect, neither in weight, nor in measure.  
And that this is true, look into your Shambles, your Hucksters, and other 
Falsehood in selling of wares.  shops of retail in the Marketplace; and than you will tell me what a deal of cozenage they use in the venting of their wares, and with what gainful cunning they utter their commodities. Besides, to what desperation doth a false, or corrupted Notary drive a man unto? Against whom, even truth it 
Against Notaries, Scriveners, etc.  self hath not the power to prevail. For the Stem only of his Quill, and the very nib of his Pen, is more dangerous against whom it is bend, than a strong-steeled Lance, or a Canon of Brass, with all his batteries.  
What think you of allying Attorney? a wrangling Lawyer? Both men of an evil conscience, full of tricks and of quillets, skilful in deceiving, cunning 
Against Attorneys & Lawyers.  in plotting, and above all, wonderful lovers of delays, making it their main study to put off and prolong suits, that they may lick their own fingers, and fill their hungry bellies, at other men's cost.  
What say you, to an obstinate and headstrong judge? one of those ignorant 
Against judges.  wilful ones, who will not stick perhaps to say of himself; I understand myself well enough; I know what I speak; nor will I be taught what to do. When indeed, he neither vnderstandeth, nor knoweth, nor doth any thing that is fit, nor is well understood by others. At the first, he seemed mild and gentle (before he was warm in his Office) like a Bull amidst a Herd of Cowes; but when he came forth, he appeared fierce, and full of rage, as if he had been stuck with darts, and his blood drawn from him. He wore a garment, which for the shaping of it into fashion, setting the pieces handsomely together, and to make it fit for wearing, had need of more than a thousand Schedules, and as many Passports, as also the thread of Theseus; for it is a Labyrinth to enter into. O with what hunger is he affected! he thinks he shall never be full enough. So that I must say, nothing escaped his hand, were it little or great; the bare fell, or the whole Fleece. I found he offended in all: In this by an I; in that, by a No: In some things; by doing, in some things by not doing: Offending, not only in matters of Omission, but in sins of Commission. Who, like the Lioness, can with loud roar put life into these little Whelps, (these dead truths) to the end, that by taking breath, some remedy might be had?  
Let us run through all occupations; Look I pray into your Tailor, with whom it is now grown to a custom, that you must pay something to the 
Against Tailors  setting up of their 
a The Spanish word is Pendon. And so it may signify something giue●… to the Corporation. Against, Masons, Smiths, Carpen●…, etc.  Sign, else your work shall ne'er be made an end of; or if it be, it shall be spoilt in the making, or they will filch so much of your stuff from you, as shall lessen you Coat, and enlarge their Veils.  
Your, Mason, your Smith, your Carpenter, and all other Tradesmen whatsoever, none excepted, do all steal, all lie, all cousin: none of them deals truly, no not one. And which is worst of all, they take a glory therein, and think themselves, in so doing, to be jolly wise fellows, and Masters of their craft; holding those that deal more honestly (if there be any such) to be simple men, and poor silly fools, that want wit.  
Let us look a little back, and see, if we shall not find an Apothecary in a 
Against Apothecaries.  blind corner, who because he will not be said to say I have not such a thing, or so, nor discredit his shop; will not stick to give you contrary Syrups, counterfeit Oils, falsified Waters; you shall not find one Drugge that is of true and perfect goodness, or any Compound made according unto the rules of Art; they mingle, baptise, and make confections (according to their own liking) of differing qualities, and diverse effects, thinking (in their poor discretion) that there is but little difference betwixt the one and the other, though it be contrary to all truth and reason. And thus do they kill many a man, making of their Boxes, and their Vyals, Dags and Pistols; and of their Pills, Pellets; wherewith (as with so many Bullets) they lay us dead on the ground.  
But you will say, Master Doctor over-sets him, and that there is not an ingredient, 
Against Doctors of Physic.  but carries his eye, and direction with it, and therefore the danger is so much the less.  
True: But if you do not fee him well, he foregoes the cure; and if you do fee him well, he prolongs it: And so by this means, some, nay, many times, his sick Patient mis-carries, and is sent untimely to his grave.  
And it is a thing worthy the noting, that Laws being the Daughters of Reason, if you put a Case to a Lawyer, or ask his opinion, he studies it, and will not resolve you, till he have well and truly considered thereon, because it is a matter of goods, or of Land, which may concern a man's making, or marring.  
But your Physician, no sooner comes in to visit you, but presently by the touch of your Pulse, as soon as ever his finger hath felt it, he instantly knows your disease, though it be utterly unknown unto him, and removed as far from his understanding, as earth, from heaven. And then, (that he may not betray this his ignorance) he forthwith prescribes, and applies such remedies unto you, as are more truly means to bring you to your last home, then to restore you to health. Shall it not be fit (if that Aphorism of theirs be true) that life is short, the Art long, experience deceitful, and the judgement hard and difficult, to go on by little and little, as it were by degrees, till they be thoroughly entered thereinto, and become Masters of that which they would willingly cure, by studying that which they ought to do therein? To treat of this, would ask a long discourse. All goes topsy-turvy; all Kim, Kam; all, is tricks and devices; all Riddles and unknown Mysteries; you shall not find man, with man; we all live in ambush, lying in wait one for another, as the Cat, for the Mouse, or the Spider for the Fly; who roaming carelessly up and down, suffers herself to be taken by a slender thread, whilst that venomous vermin, seizing on her head, holds her fast, never leaving her, till she hath killed her with her poison.   

CHAPTER V.  
How Guzman de Alfarache lighted on a Cook's service, and with fair Sentences, and good Lessons, showeth, what he should be that serveth. He blameth gaming, and Gamesters. He declareth a pretty theft performed by him; he relateth the Vices of Despensero's, Cooks, Butlers▪ and other the like Officers. Of Lords, abused by their servants. Of Kings, and their miserable condition. Of the vanity of Inferiors, contesting with their Superiors. He condemneth those Masters, that ill entreat their servants: And how they ought to carry themselves towards them.  
I Found myself free from all these things, as subject to none of them, except infirmity, and sickness. In regard whereof, I had a determination, to have put myself into an Hospital. I enjoyed a free and flourishing kind of liberty▪ praised by the wise, desired of many, and so much applauded and 
Liberty, a great jewel.  re-applauded by the Poets. To whose true valuation, all the gold and riches of the earth, are not to be compared, as things of to poor and mean a price. I had it once, but had not the wit to keep it. For it being my course of life (as a thing whereunto I was accustomed) to play the Porter, and carry burdens, and being now as well trusted, 
Guzman, 〈◊〉 Porter, or Basket●…carer.  as I was known, all my care was▪ to come acquainted with some one false Cater or other (Gods curse and mine go with him) that was the Purser, Disbu●…ser, Distributer or Steward, or by what other stile or Title, in that kind you shall call him. This Despensero, or Cater (as you please) had a good confidence in me, trusted me very far, and would often send me away alone by myself, to carry those things home to his house, which he had bought in the Market. This my continued Conversation and daily commercement with him, did (which it should not have done) procure his good liking, and love to wards me; Insomuch, that he removed me from that Office, and preferred me to be Scullion of the Kitchen, which was as much as my ambition could then reach unto.  
He would oftentimes tell me, (and one day amongst the rest, and I remember it was in the morning; he made me along Oration, flourished over with a great many of fair Promises, so that by climbing from one round to another, I began to conceive with myself, that I should come at last to be a 
a A Ruler or Governor of a City, or Town.  Corregidor at least.) That if I would apply myself to that Office, and take pains therein, behaving myself well and honestly, when I was grown fit and perfect, he would be a means to place me in Court, and put me into the King's service; where when I had served so many years in the Kitchen, I should be well rewarded, and might afterwards iive richly of myself, and be mine own man.  
O how quickly did this vain blast puff up my empty Pate; This giddywinde mill of mine was set a work, and turned quite round with the breath of his words. The adventure I saw was small, and the gain might be great.  
Well, he brought me to the Cook my master (we being well known to each other.) When I came thither, (as if it had been the first time that we had seen one another) he spoke to me in a proud commanding manner. How now (Sennor few-clothes) what wind drove you hither? What make you here, goodman Shagrag,) you Cavallero de 
* Illese as, is a certain Town near unto Toledo. King Don Alonso. Anno Domini. 1176. made a Donation thereof to the Church of Toledo. But it is now reverted again to the Crown. Illescas is an Arabic word, and signifies, lascivious & dishonest love. Cavallero de Illescas, is a word used in scorn. Covarrwias.  Illescas? Have you any business here? or do you come to abide with me? Sure I was ill advised; for when I saw he began in so high a key, I was about to show him my back and to leave him to himself, and his ●…ie; (for Summer was now fully in▪) I started, and stood as one astonished, not knowing what answer to make him, but when I saw there was no remedy, I replied; yes Sir. Come your ways then (quoth he) in with me; And if thou dost thy duty (said he) and shalt deserve well at my 
Guzman goes to s●… a Cook. The duty of a servant. Guzman his readiness 〈◊〉 serving his Master.  hands, thou shalt not lose thy labour.  
I told him, I was very well assured, that in serving his Worship, I might gain by the bargain, but lose nothing, because I had nothing to lose. Then he asked me; Do you know (sirrah) what you are to do? All that (I mildly replied) that you shall be pleased to command me; or myself either know, or am able to perform. For he that sets himself to serve, must not refuse (when need is) to do any thing, but that which more properly belongs to the duty of his place, he ought cheerfully to undergo it; and to apply himself as well to the one as the other.  
He seemed to like well both of my speech and understanding; and I hoping to be well rewarded, flew in like a Hawk for the prey. At my first coming, I behaved myself very respectfully towards him▪ and served him as punctually as I could; and he again made much of me, and used me as kindly as heart could wish. But I did not only seek to please my Master (who was a married man) and his wife my Mistress, even in the meanest services, serving them in all things else besides, both in Town and Country, at home and abroad; taking upon me the Office both of manservant and Maid-servant, (save only that I had never a Gown to put on, nor a Mantle to cover me withal, to wait upon my Mistress when she went abroad;) But for all other services of the house, as sweeping, rubbing, scouring, setting the Pot over the fire, dressing of meat, making of Beds, laying the 
b Estrado, is a kind of half pace, covered with Turkey Carpets, and furnished with fair long cushions, whereon your great Ladies and Gentlewomen sit, when they receive any Visits. But now adays, your ordinary women in Spain 〈◊〉 grown into this fashion, taking more state upon them, than s●…les with their conditions.  Estrado in order, smoothing and plaining it, that not a wrinkle was to be seen, and other the like services were my ordinary exercise; (And for that I was the only man, all this was committed to my charge:) But I laboured besides to give good contentment to all the rest of my Master's servants. So that my heels were as nimble to run upon the least boy's errand in the house, as the Stewards, the Pages, as the Mayor-Domos; for him that rubbed the Horse's heels, as for him that was Usher of the Hall. One would have me to buy such and such necessaries for him; another, that I would brush, and make clean his clothes; This man, that I would get his band washed and starched for him; that, that I would carry some 
* The Spanish word is, Raçion, ●…rata portio; a set allowance. A silent ●…gue, and a ●…rue 〈◊〉, did never hurt any servant.  provision home to his wife; A third, to his Wench. And all this I did without grumbling, or muttering, or any the least unwillingness in the world. I was never any Tale-carrier nor sower of sedition; nor did I ever discover any secret, or report again what I had heard, though it were not delivered under the seal of Silence unto me, or that the relators had laid their finger on my mouth. For I was not so ill bred, but that I knew very well, what, and when it was lawful for me to speak, and when to hold my peace. He therefore, (whosoever he be) that serves, must have an especial care to observe these two things; Wherein if he fail, he will quickly ruin himself, by drawing all men's ill will upon him, and making himself the most hated man in the world. Whereas nothing doth more recommend a man, than a fair carriage, and a faithful heart. When I was chidden, I never replied: and made it my study, to give them as little cause as I could, to find fault with me. I would not willingly have any man's displeasure; And all my care was, to do what I was commanded. And when there was need of my service, or that my helping hand might do any good, I was seldom or never wanting; I was jack at a pinch, I was here, and there, and every where. And albeit these diligences of mine cost me a great deal of labour and painstaking, yet I lost nothing by it; for the good commendations that they gave me, and the kind words that they spoke of me behind my back, and the hopes that I had to be well rewarded, when time should serve, seemed to me a sufficient payment▪ and I was well contented therewith. 
The good usage o●… the Master 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉.   
Good usage, is a great heartening to him that serveth: It is the spur which pricks on the Will, and makes it go forward; it is the finger, that beckons our affections, it is the Lure, that calls our desires, it is a Chariot, wherein our forces (like strong jades) draw on without weariness, and tug, stoutly thorough thick and thin, it is good serving of some men, and they deserve to have service done them Gratis; And there are some men again, that a man would not serve for any money. But of all others, I disclaim that Master as unworthy to be weighted on, that will neither give his servant good wages, nor good words. Kind usage will make a man work out his heart, but high language and poor payment, will kill any spirit living, and make a servant grow neglectful, if not weary of his Master's service.  
Then might I affirm, that leaving my roguish kind of life, this Picardia 
The commendation of a r●…guish life.  of mine, (as a Queen, whose name I am not worthy to take in my mouth, and whereunto any other politic course of life is not to be compared) all the bravery and gallantry of the curious method of living happily, and passing well away the time, which the world solemnizeth so much, must yield, and give place thereunto. But this, (though accompanied with much care) was exceeding good, good in the highest degree, for such a one (I mean) as myself, who had been daintily bred up in the midst of delights. So that me thought, I was in a manner reduced and brought back again to my old bias, and natural course of life, as far as it concerned the Bucolics: for my 
c The morsels I did eate.  Bocadoes were of another kind of quality and relish, than those of the Bodegon, or a Pie-corner Tripe-wives shop; they were otherwise dressed, otherwise seasoned. And in this, those of St. Gil, 
d The principal victualling places in Madrid, and what poor kind of things they ●…e.  Santo Domingo, Puerta del Sol, Placa Mayor, and Calle de Toledo, must pardon me, and hold me excused; howbeit I cannot deny, but that their Liver-slices, and their rashers on the coals, ran still in my head, and were hard things for me to forget.  
I did nothing, were it never so small a thing, never so little, for the which I had not something. All did give me one thing or other; one a 
e Quaedam moneta Hispanica, valoris 9 Maravedis, sic dicta, ab Tarja; 〈◊〉. scuti similitudine●…, quam habet. A piece of three halfpences. Gaming, a heartful thing.  Tarja, which is a matter of penny halfpenny, another a Royal, a third a Doublet, a fourth an old jacket to cover this poor flesh of mine: I did not goeso like a tattered Rogue as I did before; my meals were sure and certain; and though I had not had any other thing to sustain myself withal, I might have lived very well upon the skimmings of the pot, and upon the trial of my taste, by essaying whether my boiled meats were sod enough, and so likewise for my roast, reserving still mine own allowance whole and entire, I had no need to touch upon that that I made profit of. This good did me much hurt, as also did my Gaming, which I had learned in my loser days; For look whatsoever I got by means of my Place, for that I had no houses to repair, nor rents to buy in, I played it all away. So that I may very well say, My good did me hurt. For, see how much increase it bringeth to the good, (because they know how to turn it to their best benefit;) so it worketh as much hurt in the bad, for (when they fall once a losing what they have got) they lose a great deal more with it, it being with them, as it is with your venomous beasts; who draw poison from that, from which your Bees suck honey.  
Goodness is like unto your sweet Waters, which if they be kept in clean 
Goodness, what it is like unto.  Vessels, grow still the better, but in bad, are straightway corrupted, and quite spoiled. I was a learned Doctor in that Science, but yet I consumed my Estate in following that Trade. Within a few days, I grew a refined Gamester, and could play well with my hands too, I had learned to filch and steal finely, which was the worse Occupation of the two. Gaming, is a terrible vice; 
All manner of ●…ces are in a Ga●…ester.  And as all Rivers have recourse unto the Sea; So is there not that vice, which is not to be found in a Gamester. He never does well, and always thinks ill. He never tells truth, but still lies; He hath no man to friend; He keeps no good quarter with his Kindred; He esteems not his credit, but overthroweth the honour of his house; He leadeth a lewd life; He desires the death of his Parents; He swears without cause; He blasphemes upon every little loss. He neither fears God, nor regards his own soul. If he lose his money, he loseth all shame to get it again, and so he may have it, he cares not with what infamy; He lives gaming, and he dies gaming. In stead of a holy Taper, he holds a pack of Cards in his hand, as one that is resolved to lose soul, life, and all that he hath at one dealing. I had very good experience hereof from others, but I speak not that, which was told me by others, but what myself saw with mine own eyes.  
When my Veils would not serve my turn, (that I might not want wherewithal to game) I would cast mine eyes, like burning Torches, about the house, where, and out of what I might make my provision. For those things, that belonged to the Kitchen, I could make purchase there in the turning of a hand, but ever had a care to do it so handsomely, and to carry it so cleanly, that they might not have the least suspicion of me in the world. Many things which I stole, I hid in the selfsame room, where I found them, with purpose, (if they should chance to suspect me) to pull them out in public, gaining thereby credit to myself for aftertimes, upon the like occasion▪ And in case the suspicion fell upon another, I presently took hold upon that advantage; and putting it from myself, transferred it on him. Once I remember, 
A 〈◊〉 the●… 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…uzman.  I lighted on a happy encounter, which was this:  
My Master on a time brought certain friends of his home to his house, good-fellows, sworn brothers to Bacchus, Pilots for 
a Guadalcana, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 de la 〈◊〉 a R●…uer of recreation.  Guadalcana, and 
b Coca, 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉 so called, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ ●…rmen are went to make the ●…sh drunk, and to 〈◊〉 up their bell●…es upon the water, as if they were dead.  Coca, and he would needs for sooth in kindness bestow a Beaver upon them, all of them played well upon the Keys of this Organ; the jacks went up lively, but my Master he tickled it notably, he was an excellent Musician upon a jar of Wine: he was a brave bottle-banger, a singular tosspot. He took me out of one of the cupboards of his Ambry (which were ever stored with cold meats) a delicate piece of Bacon finely inter-larded, or (to speak more properly) inter-laced with fat and lean, which looked as fresh and as ruddy, as the blood of a Lamb, that is newly killed. The game growing now hot, and the Vies seen on all sides, they were all thirty 
c A ●…yenta co●…-Rey, is the Spanish word, which is a ga●…e a●… Cards co●… amongst them. It is good ●…ing at 〈◊〉, for ●…are of being out. 〈◊〉. A d●…ken 〈◊〉.  apiece in Kings, merry, rich, and contented: And with this new Shooing-horn to draw down their drink, they fell afresh to their former play, drinking Healths Helter Skelter, till at last (and my Mistress had her share too, who did mince and jig it in this round, with as much metal, and as nimbly, as the best dancer of them all) they grew so fine and so mellow, that you might have stripped them (like Rabbits) out of their Cases, and left them stark naked as ever they were borne, and yet they never have known who had done them this harm. Their Pieces were overcharged, the powder strong, the charge too great; so that when the fire took them, the smoke and fume thereof flew up to the highest part of all the chimney, wherewith the whole house was so shaken, that some fell down f●…at, others re●…ed to and fro; some tripped both in their tongue & feet; other were full of their gamboll-tricks, each man having his several Posture.  
My Master & my Mistress (as one of the neighbours told me) scrambled (as well as they could) to bed▪ leaving all the doors of the house open, the Table un-taken away, and the silver goblet, wherein they drunk their Healths, tumbled down on the ground, all which made much for the benefit of the Inventory.  
I was by chance at that time in my Master's Kitchen, scouring of the Panns and th●…●…pits, pyling up the wood, laying it handsomely together, and doing other things belonging to my office. When that task was done, and I had made an end of all my work, I got me to my lodging, and as I passed along, I found all out of order every thing out of his proper place, all the doors open; the Cup that was fall'n down on the floor, I fortunately stumbled on; it silently seeming to entreat me, that I would do it the courtesy to take it up. I stooped down unto it, to do it that friendly office, looking in the mean while round about me, to see whether any man's eye were upon me, to spy what I was a doing; but when I saw the coast was clear, that there was not any body living thereabouts, so that no man could detect me, I put it up, and softly stole away. But I had scarce gone four steps from the place, when my heart began to beat a false alarm.  
Then 〈◊〉 began to think with myself, whether I had heard any noise stirring either within or without the house, for I could not be too secure, and it did much concern me, to have a care to keep my skin whole, and not to endanger the losing of much, for the gaining of a little, and so in the end get a whipping by the bargain. I got me in, I called twice or thrice upon this, than that man, but not a word of answer that I had from any of them.  
I went to my Master's bedchamber, where I found him and his Wife in that case, that they seemed to be dead, and sure they were little better, for they were deeply buried in Wine.  
The snores and snorts that came from them, and other the like puffings and blowings, which they breathed forth, made me to imagine, that I had been newly entered into some famous drinking-schoole. I had a great mind to have bound them with some whipcord by the feet to the bedpost, and to have played the knave with them in that manner, to have made a little sport with them. But I did not like so well of that jest, a greater business was now in hand, and I thought it the better jest of the two, to content myself with that silver piece of Plate: Whereupon, I made safe work with that. And having now secured this theft, away went I back again to the Kitchen, where I found work enough to do till it was night, about which time my Master came thither, terribly pained in his belly, & his temples. And finding there but one only firebrand lying on the Hearth, he would needs cudgel my coat therewith, scolding & railing at me, telling me that I wasted too much wood, and that I would never leave, till I had fired his house. That night, was not a night of profit; it was worth nothing unto me; yet I supplied (as well as I could) what was wanting, and covering my Master's defect, supper was made ready, and orderly served in, which being ended, and all things done that should be done, we went to bed. But I found my Mistress in an ill taking, her countenance sad and heavy; her eyes cast down to the ground, and full of tears, her heart swollen with grief, all was out of tune with her, and not so much as one word, that came from her, till my Master was gone to bed. And then I made bold to ask her, what was the matter that she was so melancholy. She answered, O my Guzmanico▪ (son of my soul) a great evil, a great misfortune hath befallen me, wretched woman that I am, cursed was that hour, wherein I was borne, and in an unlucky time did my mother bring me forth By this time I knew where her shoe did wring her; My pocket was her Apothecary's shop. There lay the rest●…ratiue: And my good will had been the best Physician, she could have gotten for her grief. But all her pitiful complaints, and whatsoever else might work compassion, being all put together, could not move me awhit. For I have heard say; Let a woman weep never so much, though she should seem to weep her heart out, there is no more pity to be taken of her, then to see a goose go barefoot. All her lamentations, her wring of her hands, and other her demonstrations of her sorrow, could not stir up pity in me, or take hold on the least hair of a fellow-kinde of feeling.  
But feigning myself to be very sensible of her affliction, & that it grieved me much to see her so surprised with grief, I began to comfort her, and to persuade her (all that I could) that her impatience might not force such words from her, as I heard her but now utter, requesting her, that she would lay open the wound, and tell me what she ailed, and make me a sharer ●…n this her misery; promising (in all that little, that I was able to do) to do as much for her, as I would for mine own Mother. O son (quoth she) your Master (in an ill hour) brought hither certain of his friends to make merry this afternoon, and amongst other things, my silver goblet is wanting, and I know not in the world what to do. What will thy Master say, or do, when he shall know it? O he will kill me (son of my bowels, mine own dear child) he will kill me, that is the least he can do unto me. And what I pray can he do more, said I with myself? Well, I put on a mourning-face, look sad, showing how much I was displeased with this roguish dealing, and how much it did vex me for her sake. And then calling my wits together, I told her, that there was no other way in the world to salve this sore, but that she should be stirring very early in the morning, and get her to the Goldsmiths, and buy another like unto it, and then tell her Husband, that because the silver cup was old, and stained with many spots, she had caused it to be new burnished over, and made as bright as it was the first day it was bought.  
And by this means, this cloud, that threatens such a foul storm, will quickly be overblown, and all be fair weather again with you.  
I offered her withal, that if she wanted money, she should make shift to take it up upon credit, she should have my allowance and my Veils, till all was paid, if she did not find means before of her own to discharge the debt. She did with a great deal of thankfulness entertain what I had spoken, as well for my good counsels, as the speedy remedy. But it seemed unto her, that it would be very unfitting for her to go from home, and that all alone, and so early in the morning, fearing lest her Husband might chance to know it, who was very jealous of her, and would think, she had gone a gadding to some worse purpose. Whereupon, she entreated me of all Loves, even for God's sake, that I would go myself to see and I could get such another as that was; and as for the money, she had enough of her own store to pay for it. This was e'en as I would have it, it hit as pat as a pudding to a Friar's mouth, I could not have wished it to have fall'n out better; for I had already begun to devose and cast with myself, to whom, or how I might sell it, and what chapman I might best find out to buy it of me; for if they should come to scan my person, they might easily be induced to believe, that I had stolen it.  
But this business falling out so luckily, and all things sorting so well with me, I went amongst the Goldsmiths, & spoke to one of them, that he would make clean this plate, take out the stains, and beat out the dents, for it had taken some knocks in the fall; I agreed with him for two Royals, for which price he finished his work, and made it look as fresh and as new, as if it had been newly bought out of the shop; I took my cup, and carried it home with me to my Mistress, telling her, that I had met with this piece at the puertade 
a A place so called 〈◊〉 Madrid.  Guadaxara, and that it amounted in weight to seven and fifty Royals, and for the fashion he would not abate a farthing of eight Royals.  
All this seemed to her, as if it had been but one poor Blank, considering the great desire which she had to be freed from that trouble wherein she was. She told me out the money upon a table, so that I sold her her own again, as if it had not been the same, or that I had been the man that had stolen it from her. Wherewith she remained contented, and I satisfied. But lightly come, lightly gone: Two encounters carried it clean away from me.  
These petty thefts of wit, I reckoned as things of nothing, and occasion taught me the way: These were natural unto me. But those of permission, and of greater moment, I took great care in the managing of them, when need did require: it was a common thing with me, to come near to the Butcher's chopping-blocke, where the portions allotted to every man for their allowance, were cut out and divided. I did diligently observe that which passed, I 
Your Catr●…rs, your Cooks, and your Butlers, a company of coo●…ening knaves.  learned the trick of the finger, the bounding of the balance, and all the tricks of weighing▪ & many would say, I weighed passing well, yet so for mine own advantage, that every man's part should daily come short two ounces in weight.  
The Despensero, he would answer for himself, that the flesh did shrink and dry away, and though he received full weight, and the Scales true, yet there could not choose but be some loss therein, by cutting it out afterwards into so many several pieces for Commons, which might very well take up a sixth part. Your Despensero, your Cook, your Butler, your purveyor, and most of all your Officers, they do all of them filch and steal, and stick not to say, it is their Fees, and that it belongs of right unto them, and this they so openly and impudently maintain, as if they had the King's Letters 
b The Spanish word is Esecutoria. i. el Instrumento y auto de lo determinado en juizio, por tres Sententias. Covarrwias. Ver. Esec.  Patents to show for it.  
There was never yet any Kitchen-boy so foolish or so unlucky, but that he would make a shift to meet with the giblets of your Geese, your Hens, and your Capons, with the hocks of a gammon of Bacon, your flappes, Kidneys, and fat of the shoulders and loins of Mutton, your Pigs-pettitoes, your Calues-feets, Livars, Gisards, Sweetbreads, Sauces, Spices, Snow, Wine, Sugar, Oil, Honey, Candles, Coals, and Wood, not sparing the very Ashes, nor any thing else, (were it Vinegar, Mustard, Aniseed, Carrowaies,) from that which was most necessary, even to those of smallest moment, which are daily spent in a great man's house.  
When I came thither first, I confess, there was no man would trust me farther than he saw me, they had no great confidence of me; but by little and little, I got into credit by degrees, first pleasing this man, then contenting that man, and in fine, being willing to serve them all, in all that I was able: for he must have a care to please all, that will have all men to pleasure him. To gain friends, is a putting forth of money to Interest, and the sowing of 
He must do, that will receive a pleasure. Friends and ●…oes, how to be kept, or avoided.  seed in a fruitful soil. A man ought to venture his life, for the keeping of a friend, and the spending of his wealth, for the un-procuring of an enemy. For such a one is a Sentinel, that sees with a hundred eyes; he is like a Dragon, that stands upon the Tower of his malice, to look into our actions from afar, and to watch us a mischief, if we do amiss. It importeth much, not to have an enemy, and he that hath, let him carry himself so towards him, as though he were by and by ready to become his friend.  
Wouldst thou know who this is? Behold his name, and thou shalt find 
How a man should behave himself towards his enemy.  him to be all one with the Devil, our mortal enemy, and both of them, to be one, and the selfsame thing. Do thou sow good works, and thou shalt reap the fruit of them. For the first (whosoever he were) that did a benefit, wrought chains therewith to imprison noble spirits, and to bind their hearts unto him in the bonds of love. In those things, wherein I might put myself forward, I was never slothful; I did never give way to any just complaints to come against me; nor was I ever given to faction, or to the raising of calumnies and evil reports upon any; I did abhor all colours of this nature, and above all, your scandalous and offensive persons, whom we 
Scandalous persons, what they are like unto?  properly compare unto Sponges, who what they suck in one place, have it wrung from them in another, if they do not drop it out of themselves, which is too usual with them. Such men as these, see thou trust them not, shun their fellowship, abhor their company, though thou wert sure to get by them. For in the end, thou shalt sit down with loss, and shame enough.  
A private house cannot suffer a greater calamity; nor a Commonwealth a more contagious pestilence, than these make-bates, these sowers of discord, these Court-chamblets, that are sprinkled over with holy water, whose gloss of words makes a very fair show, but under that print (which is quickly gone) lies the devil, and his foul deeds.  
It was evermore my chief study, to have peace with all men, because it is the daughter of Humility; And the humble minded man, that loveth 
Peace, the daughter of Humility.  peace, loveth, and is beloved of the Author thereof, which is God: if ill company had not done me harm, I had begun well, and gone on better; I had had wherewithal to eat, to drink, to laugh, and to be merry, and might have passed this career of my life with a great deal of content. Many times (when I had ended my business) I would take a nap in the sweetness of that Sun, which showed itself after dinner, and sometimes I made my sleeps by Moonshine, remaining in the view of that fair light until the morning.  
But when there was nothing to be done at home, your Lackeys and Pages of the Court, being a company of Crack-ropes and notable Wags, would make 
The Page's waggery with Guzman.  me free of the frying-Pan, fright me with Snakes, hang on my back, & weigh me down, crying, More sacks to the Mill; If by chance they found me asleep, then would they clap a Fly made of Wax upon the instep of my shoe, and letting it burn there, till shoe and skin were both scorched, and when I began to stir and stretch, than would their knavery break forth, & cry, Fire, fire, fire. Other-while they would roll up a Card, or a piece of Paper, Tunnel-wise, & then setting it a fire, (blowing out the flame) they would put it directly under my nose, till the pillars of smoke that ascended to my nostrils, had not only awaked me, but almost choked me. I remember they used me so once in this manner, that I knew not in the world where I was, whethersleeping, waking, standing or sitting; I was e'en mad, I had lost my wits amongst them; and if I had not been held fast, I had fall'n against one of the corner stones of the house, and dashed out my brains in a thousand pieces: yet I took all patiently, never opened my mouth against them, pocketing these and many other the like wrongs, which I passed over.  
All which I did, that by correcting myself, I might conserve myself: choosing rather to kill my choler, than choler should kill me. Que el que todo lo choir Vengar, prestò quiere acc. bar. He that will revenge all wrongs, 
Proverb.  shall sooner end himself, then them. Larga se deveder à mucho, si no se choir vivir poco. The man, that would live long, must not be too short. This cuttednesse, hath cut off many a man's life before his time. But by slighting of injuries, and letting them quietly go by, he that does them, grows in the end both weary, and ashamed; Whereas if thou shouldst risent them, and take them to heart, they would never leave persecuting thee, but be vexing thee still more and more. For mine own part, if I should have complained of these Wags, or but made any stir in the business, I am sure they would have made an Anatomy of me. I (poor Scullion) must have turned Skellidon; There had been no other way with me. Sometimes, to make trial of me, they would lay baits for me, putting money in some such place, where I could not choose but find it; and then would they watch me, to see, whether I were light-fingerd or no, and had, the art of taking up, and were in the number of those that still take up, and ne'er lay down? But because I knew their meaning, and had found out the trick, that they would fain put upon me; I 
Proverb.  said with myself, It will not serve your turn, A otro perro, con esse huesso; I am too crafty a cur, to be taken with this bone; you must throw it out to some other dog, you shall do no good with it on me: you have missed your mark (my Masters) you have leapt a little too short. you shall not go beyond me, nor shall you make yourselves merry with my miseries, nor make merchandise of my credit, nor furnish your 
a Almoneda, is an open sale at an Out-●…ne. Guzman's craft to pr●…serue his credit.  Almoneda with my infamies. Therefore, it should rest there for me; till he that had laid it there, should come himself and fetch it away. Still having an eye, that another should not take it thence, lest afterwards it might be said, I was the man that did it.  
Otherwhiles I would take it up myself, and come and bring it to my Master and give it him; having always a great care to keep my wounds clean, and like a good Fencer, to come fairly off, without the least Vennie or touch in the world: For to give another man a cut in the leg, or a slash on the arm, and to receive a home-thrust, and full Stocada in his own bosom, shows himself to be but a fool in his Science. I filched and stole whatsoever came in my way, but still carried it so cunningly, that no man could have cause to suspect me.  
For those things that appertained to my charge, I was wonderful prompt 
Guzman's diligence in doing his Office.  and diligent, albeit my Master had been careless in willing me to do this, or that; And when there was any work to be done, I never stood looking, when my Master would bid me go about it; I would save him that labour. I was the foremost of all my fellows, when Birds were brought in, to fall to plucking of their feathers, to scour the Spits, to make clean the Vessel, to sweep the house, to make, and blow the fire, without saying to another, Do it you. For I did consider with myself; that seeing I was not to take my pleasure; nor to stand like a Loiterer, with my thumbs under my girdle; one was as much trouble to me as the other; And me thought, it was a fine kind of deceiving of the time; to do that by fair means, which I must otherwise have done perforce. And this made me indifferent (so as I were a doing) whether it were this work, or that work, all was one to me, since first or last, it must be done by one of us.  
I did evermore do my uttermost endeavour, as far as my ability and knowledge would lead me, reserving always the Decorum due to my Office. I was ever in Action; I had scarce made an end of pulling my Birds, but I presently run me to the Mortar, and fall a pounding of Sauces, some for my Boiled meats, some for my Roast; all my Iron utensels about the Kitchen, as Spits, Andiornes, Tongues, Fire-shovel, Pothooks, and the like, I kept so neat and so clear, that they looked like so many Sword-blades, whereon the Cuttlers' hand had set a delicate Glass; my Pots and my Pans, why you might have wiped them with a Cloak of Velvet; my Skimmers, my Ladles, and my flesh-hooks, were (like Barber's Looking-glasses) curiously kept in their Cases, and hung up upon several Nails, as all things else that were of use, had their peculiar places appointed for them, that they might be ready still at hand, when need should serve, without being driven to seek for one thing in one corner, and another in another, bearing still in my mind, how and where I had placed them.  
In a word, every thing had its deputed place, with much diligence, and very good order. At my spare hours, when I had nothing to do (which were likely in the Evening,) for then I was usually most at leisure; the Officers of the house would give me their 
a The Spanish word is Percances. i. Quicquid acquiritur à seruis praeter Salarium. Dict: à perquirendo. Your Officers in great houses challenge their Fees, as a Tribute due unto them. How the Cooks lick their own fingers.  Veils, that I might go abroad, and sell them for them. I went with them to the Gate that belongs to the Shambles, which was our set place for that business, whither came such to buy, as had need thereof; Sometimes that which I brought, was good; sometimes so so; and at other times, stinking and stark naught. And all did arise out of that, which they call Provechos y Derechos, Fees, and Duties, which is two, out of every ten: a great deal better payment I am sure, then that of the 
b Almoxarifasgo, comes of Almozarife; i Exactor portoriorum. He that takes up all the King's rents upon all merchandise, either imported, or exported. It is an Arabic word, and signifies an Officer, that recovers all Rights and Duties, belonging to the King, be it upon Customs, Tenths, or payment of Rents: Father Guadix says, this name by corruption, is borrowed from Al-Muxiuph, that is to say, a Teller, a Changer, a Banker, a Renter. Diego de Vrrea, That in its Arabic termination, it is tear●…ed Muxerifun, of the Verb Xerefe, which signifies to see, to discover. And so Almoxarife may be taken for a Seer or Discoverer. And the reason of it is, for that he sees and discovers all the Merchandise that passeth to and fro, to recover what is due to the King, and to 〈◊〉 the other pass free. This in ancient time, was a general name to all Treas●…rers, till the days of King Alonso II. Who disc●…rded it, because it was Mo●…ish, and changed the Title into Tesorero general. 〈◊〉. Lord high Treasurer. 〈◊〉.  Almoxarifasgo of Sevilla; Seldom or never were wanting unto us the Menudilloes or entrailes of your Birds, the mammocks of Veal, Partridges and Hens, which were spoiled or lost in the spitting or the roasting, or had clung in the boiling to the Pots side, or fall'n in sunder by being over-sod; in the stripping and uncasing of Rabbits and Coneys, and the Lard bestowed upon them, being bordered about, and embroidered as it were with Bacon, like unto one of your Gabardines of Sayago, scarce leaving so much white as the breadth of my nail, through which their larding-Needles had not past. There were some other commodities, which being kept too long, before they came to be sold, began to stink; these they had a trick to disguise in that handsome manner, that they should seem to be fresh and sweet. Every one did set forth his own ware, as well as he could. I sold likewise Neats-tongues, Hogs-cheeks, powdered pessels of Pork, English Pasties of Venison, and pieces of Bacon, three fingers thick of fat. Behold, what undue duties, what unprofitable profits, and what hurtful and ungaineful gains these were; things able to undo a Noble man, to make him waste his Wealth, mortgage his Lands, and sell his Vassals.  
I pity ye (poor Lords, ye Gentlemen that keep good Houses) who either can not, or know not, (or to speak truly) will not consume this Locust, this Caterpillar, by destroying so harmful a moth. And thrice unhappy they, who for ostentations sake, will offer to throw the Bar, with those that are able to out-fling them, and strive in a bravery to overdo their strength, which may cause a spraine, if not a Rupture in their Estates.  
The 
c The Spanish word is, Gana-pan, quasi ganar el pan. Acquirere panem & victum sudore faciej. The condition of of a King, what it is, in comparison of other men.  Porter, as well as the Tradesman; the Tradesman, as the Merchant; the Merchant, as the Gentleman; the Gentleman, as the Knight; the Knight, as a Grandee; and the Grandee, as a King; all desire to be enthroned, and to outstrip one another, by living above their compass, and spending beyond their means. But in troth, the Office of a King, that is no good Place, there is no sport in it, no mirth no jollity. For a King neither sleepeth so sound, nor resteth so quietly as the poor Porter doth; neither doth he eat his meat with that merry heart and free from all care, as doth the Tradesman. The care of one Crown afflicts him more, then that of many doth the Merchant. He is troubled more in making provision for his Armies, than a Gentleman in preparing his Arms: Nor is there any Knight or Titulado so much impawned, or so deeply in debt, but that his King is much more: Nor any Grandee so great, but that the troubles and griefs which attend a King, are far greater. He must keep watch and ward, when others securely sleep. His eyes (like your shops on worky-dayes) must be still open, that those of his Subjects may be shut up, and keep Holiday. And therefore the Egyptians, when they would Hieroglyffe a King, and by some mystical Ciphers, express his vigilancy; 
A vigilant King, how depainted by the Egyptians.  they did put a Sceptre in his hand, with an eye on the top of it. He travels hard, when all others take their ease and laugh; for he is both Coach, and Coachman. He sighs, and groans, when others, sport, and play; yet few are they, that take pity of him, or are sensible of his sorrows, unless it be for 
The wretched estate of a King.  their own private interest. Whereas indeed, only for his own sake, and for that general care that he hath of all, he ought of all, to be both loved, feared, and respected.  
Few inform him of the truth, for fear of drawing hatred upon themselves: Few, if he be in an error, will seek to put him out of it, and they know well enough, why, and wherefore they let him alone, and suffer him to go on in't; and so do we too: Only forsooth to put themselves forward, and that they may come to mount and soar the higher, and the sooner, though it be with waxen wings, and must in the end, like Icarus, come tumbling down, and fall into the Sea, where they, and their fortunes, are to sink for ever, never to be seen more.  
But what do I talk of these transcendencies? I divine nothing. They are things out of my element, and therefore I will let them alone. It is men's foolishness, and their want of judgement and discretion (as I told you before) that leads them thus along (deceived with these vanities) to their destruction 
The miserable condition of your great Lords and Gentlemen.  and of all other, most miserable are your great Lords, & other Noble Gentlemen, who spending where they need not, fall into need themselves. For even small and slight expenses, used often & too abundantly, consume the substance, their feathers begin to fail them, they fall away by one and by one; here lose a principal, there a sarcel, and so in the rest: so that (having never a sound feather left, neither in wing, or train, wherewith to maintain their flight:) they are called Pelones, or Pelados, peeled Gentlemen, that have had their Plumes plucked. Whereupon they are forced to retire themselves home into the Country, to live upon some poor Farm or other, where they must spend their time in breeding of cattle, as Pigs, Hens, and Chickens, and the like, reckoning the Eggs that are daily laid, making account thereof, as of his chiefest living.  
Hence therefore I set down this as a ruled Case; That if a rich man will 
Profitable lessons both for rich and poor.  govern himself, he shall never be poor. And if a poor man will be thriving, he shall quickly be rich. Both of them applying themselves in all things, according to the time, and as they see occasion. For it is not always fit for a Gentleman to save; nor for a poor man to spend. There are entertainments to be had, but such as are rather to be had for entertainment then undoing.  
Upon occasion, every man ought to show himself, like himself, according to the means that God hath given him. For to this end hath he bestowed these his blessings upon him. But not that all men should walk cheek by jowl, foot by foot, side by side one with another, as if they were all fellows, and no difference of Estates, or Persons.  
If a Noble man shall be a great spender, let a meaner Gentleman hold his hand, and let him not befool himself, to think, that he can do as much with three, as the other with thirty He doth not consider that these are abortive births; and things that are out of their natural course: whereby he becomes a byword, and laughing stock among the people: and his wealth being wasted, turns beggar, and mews himself up in a corner, and dares not be seen. That man doth not understand, (who is not of good ability) that he does ill; to seem to be a Cock, before he be out of the shell, and to stretch out his throat, as if he would over-crow all the world. If he be a Raven, and can but croak at the best, why will he offer to sing and put forth his voice? Or why, when some Flatterer shall tell him that he hath an excellent air, and sings exceeding sweetly: doth he not perceive that he only commends him, to make him (as it is in the Fable) let fall his Cheese, and then laugh at him when he has done? The selfsame Lesson I read to all, that every man would learn to know himself: let him try the temper of his Steel, and let him not go about to file iron with a file of wood, lest he find it lost labour. And when he hears a man murmur at another, let him shut the door, lest another may murmur at him.  
It is fit, that we should all sleep upon on foot (as the Crane doth) when 
Good 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 M●…jer of a 〈◊〉  our wealth, (which is the life of this world) lies upon it: casting about (now that all is gone) how we may do, that we may not be driven to steal. For to let things run to waste, is not liberality, but looseness. And with that 
(a) The Spa s●… man of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 gre●… that Prou●…e▪ Tre●… all Mohino.  which thy Catrer, thy Cook, and thy Despensero, shall steal from thee, and never thank thee; (for these are your only three (b) Cheaters,) thou mayst reward half a dozen of thy other Servants.  
But I speak no more of their theft, than others waste; for they will all steal, all filch (ne'er a barrel better Herring) look what is under their charge, they will be sure to nimme somewhat out of it. One a little, and another a little: and many a little makes a much. So that what with a little, and what with a much, it mounts to so much in the end, and makes such a deep hole in thy main estate, that thou art much maimed by it, if not wholly swallowed up, and utterly sunk.  
And here I must not stick to tell the Masters themselves, That a great part of this fault is theirs; for that Servant's wages (usually) are too short, and ill paid. For, if they be served by men, that are in necessity, and constrained by want, they shall find few of them faithful. Thou wilt not stick sometimes in a humour, to play away at one rest, all thy whole years' Revenues. This is naught, give it over. Pay thy servants well, use them with courtesy, and speak kindly unto them; for the rewarding and recompensing of services, makes the Master to be esteemed, and respected, according to his worth and quality, and encourageth the poor servant, (by requiting him for his pains,) to serve him the better, and with the more alacrity. There are some Masters, that will not bestow a Royal on the best servant they have, thinking it enough, that they have only their bare wages, and that in giving them that and their diet, they are very well paid.  
No (my Masters) this may not serve your turn, it stands not with reason to 
Reasons, in savour of ser●…. 〈◊〉.  do no more; for this is but their due, and deserves but little, or no thanks at all. But by giving that, which is not their due, thou bindest them to do more than their due, and winnest them to serve thee with the greater love. Whereas, if thou (being a Master) shalt not enlarge thy hand, and be better unto him, than the bare bargain that is driven between ye, it is no great marvel, if thy servant hold back, and step not a foot farther than those bounds, whereunto his Covenant binds him:  
As it happened to a cowardly Gentleman, who (presuming too much on his 
A Tale of a miserly Gentleman.  wealth, and the greatness of his means) fell at odds with another Gentleman that was very valiant; and finding himself far inferior unto him, both in strength and in courage, was willing to entertain a proper young fellow, of good metal, and approved Valour, to wait upon his person.  
Now it happened, that this Enemy setting one day upon him, this his servant drew in his defence, and behaved himself so well, that he made his Adversary retire with dishonour, and held him play so long, till his Master was quite out of danger.  
In this fray, the Young man lost his Cloak, and the scabbard of his Sword. When all was past, and this fray (where of I told you) fully ended, my honest Servingman gets him home, but his unthankful Master did neither make good this his loss, nor return him any requital in the world. It was this Gentleman's hap afterwards, to meet with his Master again, and having a good Cudgel in his hand, he affronted him, and gave him the Bastanado upon the former quarrel: his servant all the while stood still, and was content to be a looker on, while the other did beat him. His Master cried out unto him, that he should come in and help him. Your Worship (quoth his man) did agree with me to pay me my wages monthly, and I did covenant with you, to wait upon you for it.  
And for aught I know, neither of us both are bound to any more. So that if thou mindest that they should strain themselves for thee, and do those things, that may advance thy service; with that which thou so dissolutely losest, and vainly and idly throwest away, gain their goodwills, and thou shalt gain this thereby, that they will not rob thee of thy wealth; that they defend thy Person, illustrate thy Fame, and desire ●…y life. O how often have I seen them carry away, and carried away myself, whole tarts of Manjar 
b Alba, qu●…dam es●…a, Hispanis in usu. A meat made of the breast of an Hen, Milk, Sugar, Rice, bea●…en, and all mixed together. One of the dai●…tiest d she's they have in Spain. This Manjar Blanco, was anciently eat●…n in Prince's Courts, and Noble men's Houses, but now pub●…kely sold i●… the open Market.  Blanco, Pigs, Pigeons, Stock-doves, Cheeses of a hundred sundry sorts, and other infinite things to fell, which are too tedious to relate, and I fear me, both time, and memory would fail me, if I should go about to recou●… them unto thee! Only I will tell thee, that these disorders, being a general disease, whereof all of them were sick, infected me also, and made me become as bad as the best of them. I lived amongst a company of Wolves, and I learned of them to howl, and devour Lambs, as they did. I was a reasonable good Scholar for my time albeit in a different kind of learning, but at last, I lost all fear: I had learned now to swim without Bladders; I was slush enough now to forsake the nest; all did game and swear, all did steal and () lurch, and I did, as I saw others do before me. From small beginnings, 
(a) The Span●…sh word is Sisar. Now Sisar, is to take out of that which is bought, or spent, some small part: As out of a ●…ixt part, one. And therefore it ought to be rather S●…isar, than Sisar, of the Hebrew word Sisah, Sextare, or to take out a sixth part.  great matters arise.  
I began (as I told you before) to play a little, to lurch a little, and to steal a little; But at length, I began to enlarge my strides like little children, when they have been taught awhile to go alone. I was now perfect in my pace, and had the trick to make one in the hundred. I no more held it ill (to such pass was my innocence come) but as a thing lawful, and to be permitted, I bought there with some few necessaries, that I stood in need of; the rest I threw away at play; for in my gaming. I always made choice of those games that were the most virtuous, either in Dice, 
b The Spa●…sh word●…, are Bueltos, y Ca●…eta: Games much used amongst the Spaniards.  or Cards, such as were the nimblest to rid a man of his money, that I might make an end of it quickly, and get me home to execute mine Office.  
I once remember, that contesting about a Chance with other young Lads about my pitch, we were so loud, in one of the Courts of the house where we played, that with the no●…se thereof, you would have thought, the whole house would have fall'n down about our cares. Our Master spoke to the Usher of the Hall, that he would go see what the matter was; who found us together by the ears, which made the fault the greater. And (exceeding his Commission) he basted our shoulders with Cudgell-deaw, making the dust fly out of our Coats, till he had beaten our bodies all black and blue; The marks whereof appeared afterwards, when we came to put off our Shirts; which likewise occasioned the loss of my credit amongst them; For, from that time forward, they had an eye still over me; and looked a little more narrowly into my water. And this was it, that gave the first beginning to my utter undoing, as by and by I shall more plainly deliver unto you.   

CHAPTER VI.  
Guzman de Alfarache prosecutes that which passed betwixt him and his Master, till being dismissed, he departed from him: And takes occasion hereupon, to ●…ondemne Idleness and evil Company, and those inueterated vices in rich men. He recount●…th the spoils, and Trophies of Cooks; and tells a merry Story, that past between himself, and the Cook's wife, his Mistr●…sse.  
THat man is much to be commended, who knows to gain by his labours: But much more ought he to be esteemed, who by his virtue knows how to keep that which he hath gotten. I did strive all I could to please every body, albeit the ill custom of my former lewd life, did now and then lead me awry; so that whatsoever I did, was like forced earth, that fell in short time to its old level, and being all but counterfeit stuff, were but Ap●…h imitations, contrary to mine own nature, and that bend, whereunto I had been used. For that Glory that is falsely gotten, endureth but a while, it is not permanent, but quickly passeth away; I was like unto a drop of Oil, that falls upon a garment, which Simo fresca no para●…e, brevement se des●…ubre 
Proverb.  〈◊〉; If it be not presently perceived, and taken off in time, discovers itself, and goes increasing. Now, they would no longer trust me. One would call me, Ceda●…illo nuevo, the new little Sieve, or the youth of three days standing; For as your new married Wives, that buy a little Sieve, to strain their Wine, or any other liquor, for some few days, are very careful of it, hang it up upon a Nail, or some wooden Pin, but anon after think no more of it, and let it lie tumbling on the ground; so is it with your new servants: you shall have them at the first very diligent and careful, and like new Brooms, sweep all clean, but after a while they grow negligent and lazy, and are weary of well doing. Another would c●…ll me La Gata de Venus, one of Venus' Cats; A crafty knave from the Cradle. But they were all deceived; For I was naturally good, and in mine own disposition, I neither had read nor knew so much; but I depraved this good nature of mine, and did ill dispose of it. Vice and want altered this my good inclination, and made me otherwise then I would have been. And what knavery I had in me, I learned it of the Officers there, and other the servants of the house. And these are they that I must thank; for they were the only men that brought me to it; I was but course Sugar, till they refined me.  
There are some happy thieves, that come to be old men before they die; others are so unlucky, that for the very first robbery, that ever they committed, have been taken in the manner, and presently hanged, without any more ado. That which in others was but a venial, was in me, a mortal sin. And it was fit it should be so, because I did degenerate from what I was, by doing that which I ought not to have done. I did undo myself by ill company; 
Ill company, i●… the Author of all mischief.  which is Vice's Ladder, Virtue's Hangman; the Wine that makes drunk; the Smoke that choketh; the Sorceress that bewitcheth; Marches Sunshine, a deaf Adder, and an enticing Siren.  
When I first began to serve, I applied myself to my work, and sought to please; but afterwards, my ill-acquaintance (bad friends as they were) did sweetly undo me. Idleness, was a great help thereunto, if not the sole cause of all my hurt. For, as unto him that is well occupied, no Virtue is wanting; 
Idleness, what kind of thing it is. What evil effects it bringeth forth.  so unto him that is idle, there is no Vice, which is not his Companion. Idleness is the high way to destruction; it is that spacious field, that opens to perdition; it is that Plough, wherewith bad thoughts are sown; It is the seed of Tares, cast into the ground; it is that Woman-weeder that plucks up goodness by the roots; It is that Sickle, that cuts down all our good works; It is that Flail, which thresheth all honour out of us. It is that Cart, which comes loaden home with mischief; and it is that Ba●…ne, wherein all the Vices in the world are mowed, and stored up. Mine eye was not set upon my 
He that will not do ill, must look well into himself.  self, but on others; and look what I saw them do, that (me thought) was likewise law full for me: Not considering, that because they were in places of credit, (that were able to bear them out) and being old-beaten soldiers in all manner of theeveries, it might become them well enough to do as they did; for by this means, they were to make themselu●…s a Fortune, and to this end only do they seek to serve good Masters. I was willing to be one of the number, and would feign rank myself amongst them, by doing as they did, being no way their equal, but a poor Picaro, a ragg-taild Rogue, out both of clothes and credit.  
But if excuses may prevail, and that I may say something for myself; When I saw that every man walked so freely this way, without check or control; it seemed to me to be the land of 
a The Span●…sh phrase is, Te●…a de Xauxa.  Permission; and that I might pass up and down there as well as they: Being persuaded, (as I told you before) that it was a work of Virtue, a very good deed, and very justifiable, how be it afterwards I was beaten from that error: My thought though was good, but my understanding was amiss: For the Grace and favour of this Bull, did in especial words grant the use and exercise thereof to the elder brothers, that are free of the Incorporation of the Rich and Potent; to those that are Favourites to the Proud, to the Arrogant, to Flatterers, to those that 
The Brot●…erhood of the Rich, what it is. And the evils that it 〈◊〉.  are never without Crocodiles tears; to Scorpions, which bite not with the mouth, but sting with the tail; to smooth-tongued Parasites, who with sweet words cherish the body, but with sour works destroy the soul. These were the men that might do any thing, all was well done that they did; but in such as myself, it was falsehood and roguery, I was in an error, and together with this my error, I became so dissolute, and lived so disorderly, that my disease even a far off might easily be discerned: how be it all was not worth a straw, as being things not to be reckoned of, or scarce worthy the talking of. It is a common saying; Que el postrero, que Sabe las desgraçias, es el Marido. That the good man, is the last that knows, what things are amiss 
Proverb.  at home.  
Of all these my mad pranks, and cross fortunes that did befall me, scarce one of a thousand came to my Master's ears; Either because being willing (as I was) to please them, and to get their good will, they would not have my Master to conceive hardly of me, and so put me away; Or else, because (though now and then they would chide me, and tell me mine own) seeing all the World was alike, and that it was every man's Case as well as mine; they did not much wonder at it. But for some negligences of mine, and other things that were too transparent; my Master grew some what angry with me, and spu●…'d hard to overtake me. It so fell out, that he was one day sent for to prepare a Feast for a certain Prince, that was a stranger, newly come to Court, and carried me along with him, that I might transplant the Onion; that is, take up all the leave, Relics, Veils, Profits, or Fees, (as the custom is) belonging to his Office.  
We were no sooner come into the Kitchen, but all our provision was brought in unto us. My Master fell presently to work; and very nimbly; and with a great deal of dexterity began to chop this, to divide that, and 
The fashion of your Cooks, when they are sent for to work.  break that other thing asunder, putting somethings apart by themselves, others (especially if they were all of a sort) he heaped up all together, taking the like order in all the rest of those things that appertained unto him (as a lawful tax and due tribute, payable to his place) lest he might, (being busied about many other things) forget his own right, and confusedly intermix one thing with another; it being meet and just, to give unto Caesar, that which is Caesar's, and that every man should take possession of his own, and quietly enjoy what of right belonged unto him.  
Now, about the shutting in of the Evening, when it began to be dark, my Master willed me to bring the Sacks. I brought them, and fell to filling; which (being well practised therein) I packed up every thing that was there, very handsomely, and very speedily. And clapping them on my shoulder at such a time, and in such a manner, that I might not be seen, he made me make four returns, in which journeying to and fro, I could hardly fetch my breath, so heavily was I laden. All▪ and every one of them seemed to me, to be like unto Noah's Ark. And I do not know, whether in it there were so many individual and several Species, or whether God did afterwards create them? Now▪ when I had made an end of this business, he willed me to make a fire, hang over the Kettles, see the water seethe, pull Fowl, scald the Chickens, sing the Capons, scorch the Partridge; in which and the like I bestowed a great part of that night. My Master's Cake (good man) did not bake half currently, the bias did not run the right way, he was shrewdly out of tune, and much disquieted in his mind; it still running in his head, that his Wife was all alone; and that she could not either well order such a deal of wealth as he had sent her in; or that happily some unexpected storm might befall him in his absence.  
Hereupon, whilst his thoughts were thus troubled, he calls me unto him, and says unto me; Guzmanillo, I prithee hie thee home, and have a care to that which thou carriedst hence, see that all be safe, nothing lost, open thin●… 
What are the Trophies of Cooks, whereof they make their Triumph.  eyes, and look about thee. Tell thy Mistress that I stay here; have a care to the house, and as soon as it is day, hasten again unto me. I did so: I deliver my message to my Mistress. I call for Pinn's, and Pack-thread; I placed them up above in a Gallery, where they hung in a fresh and open ay●…e. There did I ●…yle upon strings the Trophies of that Victory. It was a glorious and goodly sight to see the several plumage, and diverse-coloured feathers of Capons, Partridges, Turtles, Hens, Peacocks, Thrushes, Veldefares, Pigeons, Quails, Chickens, Doves, and Geese. And taking forth from amidst all these the Coney's heads, they looked as if they had come peeping out of their berries. I hung up in another part of the Gallery Gammons of Bacon, joints of Veal, Red Deer, wild Boar, Mutton, Neats-tongues, Pigs, and Kids.  
Thus all the Gallery was hung round with this kind of Tapestry, upon very good Nails & strong Pins, that I had put up for that purpose. So that I assure thee by the faith of an honest man, according to that fair show that it made there, I had brought home two parts of five: nor was this Conquest yet fully ended; for there were yet wanting those seven 
* These seven sons of 〈◊〉 were brau●…●…rriours, and conquered all where they came. And their name is 〈◊〉 said by way ●…f Proverb, when something is wanting yet to be 〈◊〉.  Infants de Lara, to make the feast complete. All the rest was very well fitted, and I very weary, fo●… had wrought very hard, though little notice was taken of it, and my requital less.  
My Mistress lodged in a lower room, who like an idle Drone, left all the ●…urthen on my shoulders, and got her to bed. It seemed she had supped upon salt meat●…s, for she had her 
a When a ●…an has drun●…e 〈◊〉, it is a 〈◊〉 phrase in Spa●…ne: Cargò Del●…ntero, He 〈◊〉 charged has forep●…ce.  forehead full charged, which was no new thing with her. ay, when I had made an end of my work, did the like, and went to bed. But the weather was so hot, that for a good while I lay scratching, and tossing to and fro, till at last, (though somewhat, I confess, against my will) I let lose the reins, that I might go softly onward on my way to sleep. In the end I fell a●…galloping, that I might the quicklier come to my journeys end, and take my rest. And lapping myself in my Blanket, which God knows was a sorry one, (for in that Country, they do not use to allow Sheets, nor any more save an old Straw-bed, to such poor boys as myself) I was very careful to rise betimes, according as my Master had commanded me. When behold, (God bless me) about three of the Clock in the morning, it being then the time between the two Lights, when it was neither night nor day, I heard b●…rieath in the Court a cruel skirmish amongst the Cats, which were making of a banquet upon a piece of Poor john, a dry kind of Fish, which they had drawn out by chance through the Tiles of one of our neighbour's houses.  
And for that they are naturally of an ill condition, (nor shall you ever know, 
Cats and old Folks alike.  when they are contented, no more than ye shall, when old men are well pleased) you shall never see them eat their meat quietly, and without noise, but still purring and growling, though they have never so much. Whether it were, that their Fish was good, and so liked it too well; or whether it were over-salted, and so made them angry, or what a Devil the matter was, that they differed about, I know not: but sure I am, that with the noise of this their War, they did awake me, and made me to listen after them, saying with myself, Sure the Devil is in it, his hand is in this business, if the quarrel that was risen amongst these honest Cats, should fall upon the true 
b Sober la capa dei justo. Si dize; quando ●…aga ●…l, que no 〈◊〉 culpa. Couarru●…ia. verb. justo.  man's Cloak, and make him smart for't, that is not in fault: and should quarrel now at this hour, in so unseasonable a time, about the partition of my goods, and then my bones to pay for the meat that they should eat; making my Master thereby to misdoubt my care, and so breed a difference between us.  
I lay in my bed, as naked as ever I was when I first came from my Mother's womb: I did not think, that any body should have seen me; I started up in a trice; and as if the 
c I●… is 〈◊〉 s●…ll i●… Spain to h●…ue the Moors co●…e in upon their coasts, and carry away many Captives.  Moors had been come to have carried away all my kindred Captives, and this diligence of mine would have served to set them free. I hie me with all the haste I can, and come running down the stairs amain, that I might be there in time, and might prevent that mischief, which is wont to grow, when succours are too slow.  
In a business of that importance, I thought all delays were dangerous. 
The ridiculous ●…est that past between Guzman and his Mistress.  My Mistress as she was gone to bed before me, so she had got up before me. Which she might the better do, because she had nothing to trouble her head, and had taken four sound sleeps, was leapt up warm like the Silkworm, so that she had no more to do, but to rub her eyes, and arise. She heard this stir as well as I, and thought perhaps with herself (as very well she might) that I was fast asleep, and did not hear the noise. She, though she went to bed in her Smock, yet as her fashion was, she would put it off before she slept, and lie all night stark-naked; and so was she now, having not so much upon her to cover her nakedness, as the inheritance of her Grannam Eve, neither Smock, nor any other covering in the world.  
And thus stark naked as ever she was borne, forgetting through her haste; to clap any thing upon her body, she came running down like one out of her wits, with a light in her hand, to save her goods. Her thought, and mine, jumped both alike; the broil equal; the diligence, in cau●… propria, in a business that ●…id nearly concern us both; and the noise on either side but little, for we ●…oth came thither barefoot.  
Now (if it will please you to behold us) we both of us meet in the Gallery, she strucken with wonder, to see me there; and I almost frighted out of my wits, in looking on her: She suspected that I was some Phantasma, some Hobgoblin, or wand'ring Ghost, and letting the light fall out of her hand for fear, she gave withal a great schriche. And I that was affrighted as much with so strange and foul an Apparition, and seeing her to make towards me with a Candle in her hand, I gave a greater schriche than she, thinking it had been the soul of the Steward of our House, who died but some two days before, and that he was come thither to level his Accounts with my Master. She shrieked out so loud on the one side, that the neighbours might hear her all over the street▪ and mine were so shrill, that they might almost have been heard all over the Town. She fled as fast as she could drive to her Chamber, as if the Devil had been at the tail of her; I strove to make as much haste to mine; the Cats they began to fly, and as glad as we to be gone. But to see the ill luck of it, upon the very first stair as I was going up, I stumbled upon the Cat of the house, and treading upon her in the dark, she scratched me by the legs with her nails: then did I verily think with myself, that some Ghost or other followed me at the heels, and was come to carry me away; and that he was now catching at my soul, and ready to tear it out of my body: wherewith being scared, I fell, and broke my shins against the stairs, having grated off the skin even almost to the bone, nor did my nosescape free, that was broken as well as the rest. Neither of us two could understand, or certainly suspect, who the other should be, all did succeed so in an instant, and were both called out, at the sound of one and the same Bell; till that I having fall'n on the ground and she having hid herself between her sheets, we began to know one another by the lamentation and mourning that we made. With this fright that she had taken (if the freshness of the morning did not occasion it) my Mistress retentive faculty had shrewdly failed her, and the lock of her belly being loose, and the bolts of her breech none of the fastest, her Postern door flew wide open, and before she could recover her Chamber, ●…irted the excrements of her entrails, part in the Portal, & part in the open Court; that Whitepot of hers, being stuck full of Cherry-stones, which it should seem she had swallowed down whole. I was a good while, ere I could make all clean, I swept it, and washed it, and did all that I could to make all handsome again; for the keeping clean of the house did properly belong to my charge, as a thing wholly committed to my care.  
Then did I begin to know that the Ordure and filthy savour of such accidental Stools as these, do stink more, and worse by far, than those that are natural and ordinary with us. But the cause and reason hereof, I leave it to the Philosophers to seek it out: It sufficeth, that it cost me a great deal of labour, to the detriment of my smelling faculty, and the great annoyance of my Nose: and this I dare be bold to make good unto you out of mine own experience.  
My Mistress was much ashamed of this foul accident, and I more: for albeit I did write man, yet I was but a young Lad to speak of, and a mere child in the knowledge of these things; I was as modest, as any Maid of them all, and as tender-stomaked; and had I been more man than I was, I should have been ashamed for her shame, and have blushed, if not for mine own, yet for her sake. It did grieve me very much, that I had seen her in this manner, as I have told you; for as I live, I would not willingly for all the world have lighted upon such an uncouth casualty as this was: But (do all that I could) she could never be persuaded, but it was my knavery, and my roguery, and that I did it of purpose; nor all the oaths that I used unto her, could make her to alter her mind, reduce her to reason, make her capable how and by what means this happened, or give her any the least assurance of my innocence.  
From that day forward, I utterly lost her goodwill; and I knew so much afterwards by a neighbour of hers; whom she acquainted with all that had happened. For that which did trouble her most, and did even vex her to the heart, was, not for my finding of her naked, and vn-arrayed; but because she had bewrayed herself. As for all the rest she did not care a pin; for most women desire nothing more, especially those that have a good opinion of themselves, have consulted with the clearness of their skins, and are privy to their own perfections.  
When I saw that nothing would serve the turn, and that neither persuasions, nor protestations would persuade with her; I took it for an ill sign, and began to think with myself, that some false witness or other would be raised up against me, to cast me out of doors, putting her Husband into an evil opinion of me, as if this (poor innocent soul as I was) had been merely my fault. Never did she look strait upon me afterwards, nor ever exchanged word with me, good or bad.  
When it was broad day, back went I to my Mill again, as I was commanded▪ that I might fall there afresh to my drudgery. But when I came to my Master, not a word of what had past. I was Mum-budget, and durst not open my lips to him (for my life) in that business. He asked me whether all those things were safe at home? and whether I had set them handsomely in order? I told him, all was well, and well ordered. He employed me in some things. And I can assure you, that my Master & his Companions, and I and mine, such as were helpers, and wrought there for him, had more ado●…, to gather together, and hide what he had stolen, than we had in the dressing and seasoning of all the rest of our meats. And how was it possible, that it should be otherwise, where there was no order taken, no agreement made, no account to be called unto? What did not we call for without control; what was not given us without grudging; what did we not receive with a great deal of glory; how little was spent, and how much was stolen? Sugar was demanded for our Tarts; and for our Tarts, Sugar. So as we had for every thing twice or thrice over. These kind of banquets, we termed jubilees; because the waters were troubled, and there were store of Fish to be taken. The poison was thrown in, and they began to float.  
This made me to think, seeing (as the common phrase is) that this 
a Pan demi compadre ●…l ducl●… ageno.  was my Gossip's bread, but at other folk's cost; that my foreteeth were no less able than other men's, to gain this Indulgence. For I likewise had a Soul in my body, as well as the best of them; I wanted not a jot of any thing▪ that should make me a man; My Armour was not without its Rivets, to buckle all close. And if I had a mind to the Crumbs that were fall'n under the Table, (yet so, as not to seek, to make myself equal to my fellows, or to enter into comparison with them) it might (me thought) be lawful for me, to make some profit of other men's liberality, and though I were no Gamester, yet I might receive 
b Barato, is that m●…ny, which at play a man takes out of his heap, when ●…e wins, and gives it to this or that s●…ander by, that he may wish him good luck. Giving less, or more, as their hand is good, or their game great or small. Prou.  Barato, as a slander by. I waxed weary with pulling Fowl, blanching of Almonds, and the kernels of Pine-apples, with providing of scalding waters, and other things: I had then on at that time, an old Shi●…t, and a Doublet that was all torn.  
Amongst other things that came to my Master's share, was a Pannier of Eggs; I made thither, and took out a good company of them, some few of them I clapped in my bosom, betwixt my body and my shirt, the rest I thrust into my Pockets, and the linings of my Breeches. Now you see, I laid my hand upon that which wrought my woe. But (to speak the truth) I did not do this so much for mine own private interest, but that I might say another day (if I list) that I kissed the Bride; and that it might not be said, that she came forth a Maid: Or that it should be tit in my teeth; that I had been at the Court, and not seen the King. The crafty Rogue my Master had found me out; and that he might sanctify himself by my sin, and justify his honesty by my theft, the Mayor-Domo being present, and other principal servants of the house, when I was about to go forth to put this poor purchase of mine in some safe place out of sight, he fell upon me like a Lion, and laying hold on my Choler, he began to play Rex with me, taking me to Coramnobis, haling 
Guzman s●…eales Eggs, and is taken in th●…●…ner.  me by the hair of the head, and treading me under his feet.  
You may very well imagine, how well conditioned this Merchandise was like to come home, being with his beating of me, he had broke them all to pieces, making both the Whites and the Yolkes, thus battered both together to drop out at my knees. I could not but say to myself; Sure, some Poulterer's Planet doth pursue me, & my Choler had almost moved me to speak it out aloud. But o (thou notorious thief) how canst thou have thy house hanged with that, which thou stolest, and I carried away, and yet keep such a coil, and make such a deal of do, for half a dozen paltry eggs that thou foundst about me? Dost thou not see, that thou wrongest thyself, in wronging of me? But I thought it my best course, to hold my peace. For, in injuries, the best remedy is to neglect them. It did grieve me so much the more, that my Master should use me thus hardly; had it been done by a stranger, or so I could better have borne it. But I must be contented with my hard fortune; I saw I was to suffer, and therefore I passed it over without any alteration of countenance, or replying otherwise unto him, then by lifting up mine eyes unto heaven, which were brim full of tears, and ready to run over.  
Now the heat and fury of the Feast was past, and we were going home; but as we were upon the way, my Master said unto me, What I shall now tell thee (Guzmanillo) harken unto it, and weigh it well, it is worth the noting; That beating which I bestowed on thee to day, did concern me more than 
F●…ire words and large promises, pacific anger.  thou art aware: I know I had no reason to use thee as I did; but to morrow, I will give thee a new pair of shoes, which shall be better worth to thee, than thy eggs would have been. This was welcome news, and pleased me very well; for those I then wore were old, and all to fitters. But I shrewdly suspect, that my Mistress, after we were come home, had made her complaint unto him, and spoken some ill language of me; for from that time that we entered in adoors, my Master did ever after cast such a sour look upon me, as if he had been newly tasting of Wine-vineger, so sharp a countenance did he set upon me; so that now we hear no more words of our new shoes, they are forgot, and I must be content to go without them. When I saw he looked awry upon me, and that I found his favour to be withdrawn from me; I sought to remove all rubs, and to give him all the content I could, serving him with more care than ever; without committing any the least offence, or being wanting in any thing that belonged to the businesses of the Kitchen; I was not faulty in an hair, because he should have no just cause against me.  
Upon a Festival day, (as our fashion was) we had made certain Pies and Pasties, some of one sort, some of another; whereof there was some (though not very much) of the Paste left; And the Monday following, was the Running of the Bulls. In the dust-Basket, amongst other refuse-things out of the sweep of the house, it was my hap to meet with the shanke-bone of a 
Guzman tries his wit to get some money.  Heifer, which was in a manner whole; I had need of a few of Blanks to make merry with, and presently (a toy taking me in the head) in the turning of a hand, I had leapt up my Shanker in the Paste that remained; which (as I had handled the matter) was to the outward show a goodly fair Conie, that you could not distinguish the one from the other. Away went I with it to the wont place, where I used to vent my other things, with a purpose to cousin some stranger with it; But because I was in haste, and could not stay long, I might not wait to make choice of my Merchant. There comes me to buy it of me a goodly grave Gentleman-usher, (his head and beard as white as Milk) to do him a pleasure, I was willing he should have it. We agreed upon the price, and he was to give me for it three Royals and a half. Me thought I saw the heavens opened, in having made so quick a market. But the more was my haste, the greater was his phlegm.  
He puts me first under his arm a Reportorie or little Register book, about the bigness of an Almanac, which he had in his hand; Then he hangs me at his Girdle, his Gloves and his handkerchief; with a great deal of deliberation; After that, he takes me a case out of his pocket, wherein were his Spectacles: he pulls them forth, wipes them, and puts them on, wherein he spert two long hours. Then he went distilling out of a little leather Purse, one Quart after another, and putting them in his hand, every half Quart, seemed to be a Quartile, giving every one of them half a dozen turns at the least, holding them against the Sun. I had scarce received my money of him, when lo, my Master was at my back, who missing me at home, came forth to seek me. And having thus found me napping, he took me fast by the arm, and when he had me sure, he said unto me, What Pawn (my 
Guzman taken in a fault by his Master.  youth) have you redeemed here? My Gentleman-usher was present at all this passage: the Devil (I think) kept him there all this while, for the disclosing or this my secret.  
I saw myself now in the suds, and knew not which way to get out; (I could not quote my Author, nor yield any good reason for what I had done; so that it stood with me, as with prohibited books, or merchandise forbidden to be sold: and punishing me for my fault, he afterwards diues me into my pocket; and when he had fished out the money, he cries; Let go you rogue; Let go, I say: Are you the man, that so many have commended unto me? Are you that dead Fly, that would do no hurt? Are you that faithful servant fo●… sooth, whom I trusted with my goods, and all that I had? Have I kept thee in my house? given thee of my bread? cherished, and made so much of thee, and all for this? I will no more be troubled with such a rogue as thou art. See thou comest no more in my house, and come not, I advice thee, near 
Guzman thrust out of his Master's service.  my door; for he that will be false in a little, will (if occasion be offered) be false in greater matters.  
And so giving me a cuff on the ear, and a kick on the breech, both at one instant, in the presence of my Merchant, (whose dull phlegm, (the worse luck mine) would not dismiss him thence) he had almost laid me flat on the ground. I was so ashamed, that I knew not what answer to make him; though I had stuff enough in store for him; But not holding it fit so to do, because he had been my Master. I hung down my head, held my peace, and went my ways. For it is a greater glory to avoid injuries by silence; ●…hen to overcome them by replying.   

CHAP. VII.  
How Guzman de Alfarache, being put from the Cook his Master, turns Picaro, and proves a notable cunning Rogue. How he having a great desire to see Italy, occasion was offered unto him to effect his purpose, by the help of a theft, done upon a Grocer, and how he went shear away with it, and left Madrid.  
IN all chances whatsoever that may befall us in this world, Mas vale Saber, que aver; it is better to be wise, then to 
Wisd●…e b●…tter than Riches.  be rich; For though Fortune should play the Rebel, yet Knowledge never forsakes a man. Wealth may be wasted, but Knowledge increaseth; and of more worth is that little, which a wise man knows; then all that which a rich man enjoyeth. There is no man (I think) makes any question that Wisdom excelleth Fortune; though both of them put forward, and hasten to one and the same end; which is, to adorn and set forth men, and to raise them to honour.  
diverse Philosophers, did diversely paint forth Fortune, because in all things 
Fortune, how deciphered by the Philosophers?  she is herself so divers. Every one did draw her forth in that form, as he found it did accord with himself, or as he did consider it in another. If she be good, she is the Stepdame to all Virtue; if bad, the Mother to all Vice. And him, whom she most favoureth, she reserveth for most misery: her courtesies ever ending in disgraces. She is brittle, unstable, restless, Tanquam Figura sphaerica in corpore plano; like a Spherical Figure, in a plain body. That, which she gives to day, she takes away to morrow: she is the flowing of the Sea, tossing and tumbling us to and fro, till she leave us at last upon dry land, on Death's shore, from which she never returns to recover us; And while we live, enjoining us (like Players to con over our parts, and to learn daily new toys & devices, to present them upon the stage of this World. Every various accident doth disorder her, & steal Wisdoms praise from her. But Wisdom doth quickly repair that which she ruineth: And redresseth those things, which she despaireth of; she is a most rich open Mine, from whence, they that will, may exhaust great treasure, like unto the waters of a huge Riu●…r, which can never be drawn dry. She honoureth a good fortune, and helpeth a bad. She is silver in the poor, gold in the rich, and a precious stone in a Prince. In the perilous passages, and in the troublesome chances of Fortune, the wise man treads safely, and walks securely; but the Fool stumbles and falls, though the way be never foe plain.  
There is no trouble so great on the land; no tempest so terrible on the Sea; no storm so violent in the air, that is able to withstand Wisdom, so that every man ought to desire to live to be wise; and desire to be wise, that he 
What man should do, to live happily.  may live happily; Her riches are perpetual, permanent, constant, and certain. But thou wilt ask me; Whither away, Guzman, so laden with Knowledge? What thinkst thou to do with it? To what end dost thou commend it with such large eloquence? Why dost thou so earnestly endear it unto us? What dost thou mean by it? Whether doth it tend? Since you ask me, I will tell you. All this speech hath reference to my Basket, which was the Knowledge that I did study, for to get meat to my mouth, which is a good point of Wisdom: For, Quien à Oficio, à beneficio, He that hath a good Office, hath a good Living. And he that hath no other means to live in this world, and to pass over the necessities of this life, shall for me be esteemed as much in these days, as Demosthenes was in those, for his eloquence, and Ulysses for his wit.  
My natural disposition was good; I was descended both by Father and Mother 
Guzman complains of his misfortunes.  of a Noble and Honourable Stock. This I could neither hide, nor lose. And therefore I could not choose but show of what house I came, by suffering injuries with patience, the only trial of valiant minds. And as bad men, by good things, become worse; so good men, by bad things, are made better; especially, if they know how to make true use of the things of this world.  
Who would have thought, that so good service as I had done, should have received so bad a reward? And that upon so light an occasion, and when I did least expect, I should be thrust out of all? But in answer hereof, thou wilt happily say unto me; Such is the world now a-dayes, that for the same very action, for the which at this present, a man is accounted a good servant, an able Minister well seen in his Office, and to have behaved himself therein as he ought, shall again at another time, for doing the very same thing, be neglected, ill thought of, disgraced, and undone. And all to this end, that either herein we may see the world's incertainty, and what errors it doth daily run into; or else be brought to confess, That God, to those, whom he hath predestinated to salvation, after sinning, sends repentance. O would to God, that I might be so happy, as to receive only a corporal punishment here upon earth.  
My Master was now bend against me, his Wife had set him on, and he thereby so incensed, and so apt to take hold of any occasion, that every the least shutting of the eye, or but the wagging of a Straw, would have been matter enough of exception against me; and though I should have served him never so well, never so truly, and laboured (as if my life had laid upon it) not to give him any the least cause of dislike, yet all would not serve the turn, he was minded to put me from him, and I must be packing; faulty, or not faulty, all was one. Now I am thrown out into the street, persecuted, and put away: What shall I do? Whither shall I go? Or what will become of me? Seeing I am thrust out of doors for a Thief; who will now entertain me in his service? Who admit me into his house? Then did I begin to think of my former troubles; & how well I bore them out, by bearing of a Basket. I was wont to be a Bunnolero, a maker of Fritters, Bunnes, and Cracknels, and was now fain to follow mine old trade afresh. It did not repent me, that I had been enured to troubles; for from them I received my relief; and it is good sometimes to take them patiently, and willingly, to the end that they that are driven to necessity, may the better endure them, and not sink under the burden of them, as many do, because they have not been formerly used unto them.  
And because they can never fail us in this life, but do still wait upon us, it is fit that we should be taught how to entertain them, that we may be the better able to bear them when they come. Besides, they make a man submit himself to those things, wherein afterwards he finds a great deal of good. There is no affliction so bitter, from which (if thou wilt) thou mayst not in the end suck some sweet juice; nor no pleasure so sweet, whereof thou mayst not fear some bitter end, save only in that of virtue. If when I was so well accommodated to mine own content, I had not before endured some storms of Adversity, never in that fair weather of my Scullion-ship, should I have known how to Sail in my putting forth from the Kitchen, but have shown myself a raw Mariner, and fresh-water-Pylot, nor have found things so ready at hand, wherewithal to help myself in time of need.  
What would then have become of me? Dost thou not see how troubled, how afflicted I should have been? and what hard shifts I should (poor wretch) have been put to, when my Office was taken from me, not knowing which way to turn myself, what course to take, nor where to put my head? All that I got I either played it away, or unjustly stole it. I had bought me neither goods nor land with it, neither house, nor clothes, nor any thing wherewithal to cover me. All was spent and gone; As it came, so it went; in at one door, and out at another; what I gained, that I lost; what I served for, that I wasted: And as the Proverb is; I had frutos 
a Frutos, por pension: Quando del beneficio que uno tiene, da todos los frutos al pensionario, aviendole Sennalado la congrua. Conarrwias. verb. Fruto.  por pension, my fruits allotted me. Of evils, whereof the least is the best, for all these misfortunes that befell me, my main stock was still remaining with me, to wit, my lost shame. For what should a poor man do with shame? Bashfulness brings in no benefit. And the less shame I had, the less did those errors grieve me, which I committed. I was now well known to all the Town, and I had money in my purse to buy me a Basket; but before I would resolve to saddle it to my back, I did night and day visit my Master's friends and acquaintance, to see if any of them would have pity of me, and take me into their service. For I had learned now a little skill, and would have been glad to have bettered my knowledge, that I might know how to live another day. Some of them did relieve me a little, entertaining me with a piece of bread, or so.  
But it seemed, they had heard such things of me, that they quickly dismissed me, having no mind in the world to receive me into their service. Might overcomes Right: And where force prevaileth, there the Law goes to 
(b) Donde la-Fuerça oprime, La Ley se quiebra.  wrack.  
With these diligences that I used, I had performed my duty, and complyde with that, whereunto I was bound, that I might not accuse myself hereafter, of returning to my former course of life, out of mere idleness, and for the avoiding of labour, and that I might not work and take pains for my living. But I assure thee, that I loved it then, as one that had experience what Vice was; and knew very well, that by so much one man is more man than another, by how much the more he labours in some honest course of life. As the contrary may be said of him that is idle. But a man can do no more than he can do; I did my endeavour. Nor do I know how it comes to pass, that we desiring to be good, yet we never come to be so; and though we propose it daily and hourly unto ourselves, yet we do not put it in execution 
We still desire to be good, but never are good. And the reason why?  in many years; nay, not in all our life-time are we able to reach unto it. And the reason is, because, we either will not, or we do not think upon any thing but the present. I began to bear my burdens, I did eat what was needful, (for I never made my belly, my God) and a man ought not to eat more, than what may suffice for the preserving of life. The excess whereof is brutishness. For it is the Beast that gluts himself to grow fat.  
By this my orderly diet, and moderate feeding, my mind was not dulled, my body was not weakened, I did nourish no ill humours, I did breed no diseases, 
Orderly diet, a wholesome thing.  I had my health, I was sound & lusty, and never wanted money to play.  
In my drinking, I was very temperate, never using it but when I must needs, and then too very sparingly; seeking to proportion myself to what was necessary; and to moderate myself in some measurable manner, as well, for that 
Moderate drinking, healthful. The contrary, hurtful.  it was a thing natural unto me, and agreeable to my disposition; as also for that drunkenness, did (me thought) very ill become my Companions: Who depriving themselves of the sense and reason of men, fall sick and ill: their heads turn to aching; their tongues, to hoarseness; their breaths, to shortness, if not to noisomeness; their eyes, to a swollen settledness, & dulness of 
Porters, and Basket-bearers, are for the most part, a base and brutish kind of people.  look; their legs, to making of Congees and Honours; their feet, to tripping of it this way, and that way, with counter-paces, now backward, then forward, as the Morris-bels in their brains should devose them their tune. But (which exceedeth all other mischiefs) this inhuman and sottish Vice makes them a May-game to children, a laughing stock to men, and a scorn to all the world. Such as these are Rogues, and for such, let them go, for they are no better than Rogues. And I do not wonder at it. For all baseness whatsoever is engraven on their foreheads, and is made just fit to their measure, as being the offscum and refuse of men.  
But for men of worth, and such as stand upon their credit, as great and noble 
A 〈◊〉 for Noble men, and Gentle●….  Persons, and Gentlemen of quality, who ought to abstain from these disorders; let them take heed, how they give any such scandal, to wrong their Reputation.  
But for a Churchman to disorder himself, nay, but to go a haires-breadth 
The like for Churchmen.  awry in this kind: for such a one (I say) it is not only a disorder, but he comes within the compass of being noted for a scandalous person, & a wronger of his profession, which cannot but resound much to his reproach. Let them themselves be their own judges, and speak what they think of it, when they see themselves thus overtaken. Do they not, for to maintain their absurdities, seek to excuse themselves by idle and foolish reasons, and make, I know not what un-jointed sequels, by which after one error granted, they run into a thousand: and yet persuade themselves, that they, and none but they, are in the right? It is a sham●… to treat of it; infamy to use it; villainy to cloak it, and a thing unworthy men, not to hate, and abhor it.  
We had in the Place near unto Santa Cruz, our proper Mansion, bought, 
The Marketplace, the Rogue's burse.  and repaired at other men's cost. There were all the meetings and the Feasts. I was up with the Sun, I diligently waited on those Shops, and attended often on the Bakers; and if I wanted employment there, I got me into the Shables, to see what good I could do there. I made my harvest in the morning, to serve me all the whole day after. The Parishioners thereabouts, that had no servants of their own for these businesses, would hire me to carry home their provision for them. Which I did faithfully, and diligently, without wronging them the least hair of my head. No man of my place had more credit amongst them, or was better trusted then myself. So that my Companions wanted work, whilst I had enough for myself, and some other goodfellow my friend, whom I would make choice of to help me; who would be sure to follow me close at the elbow. Then we were but a few of us, and we went up and down from place to place: but now there are very many, the number is much increased, and all of them have their hands full, and glad is he that can catch them up first. And I can assure you, that there is not any Estate, that hath more enlarged itself, then that of the Picaro's; for all your Rogues apply themselves to the bearing of Baskets, and carrying of Burdens, they count it a very good Trade, and these Rogues grow proud of it. And to this pass doth misfortune bring a man, that his Infamy, he makes his glory; his Baseness, he counts his Honour; and earnest, he turns to jest.  
It so fell out, that there were certain Companies of Soldiers to be raised, and Captains appointed for the conducting of them. Now, when any such thing happeneth, it is presently spread abroad over all the Town, every corner of the street is full of it, and every private house is made a Council of State.  
Nor doth that of your Picaro's sleep in the mean while; every Porter, and 
〈◊〉, and Carmen, & the like base Rogues will not ●…icke to talk of State●…sses.  Basket-bearer will have a hand in the Government of the Commonwealth as well as other men; they will fall into discourse of the business, vent their opinions, and conclude, what things ought be done, how carried, and who fittest for the managing of these great affairs. Nor do not thou think, that because they are base in their quality and condition, that therefore they are the farther off from the Truth, or their intelligence the less certain. If thou do, thou art much deceived; for it is rather the quite contrary with them. For it oftentimes so comes to pass, that they know the essential points of things, and participate of the secrets of State; and there is a great deal of reason for it. For, in regard of the understanding, some there are, nay, very many of them, who if they would apply it well, and accommodate it, as others do, making the like use of it, have it strong and good. Besides, sithence that they go all day long from one place to another, through diverse streets, and into sundry houses, and being that they be so many, and so scattered and divided over all the Town; of many, they hear many things; and though it be usually said amongst us; 
a Quantas Cabeças tantos pareceres.  Quot capita, tot sensus. So many men, so many minds. And though happily one, or say a hundred, should shoot wide of the mark, and discharge the follies of their idle brains; yet doubtless, there are others again, that discourse wisely, and will come very near unto, if not hit the Pin.  
Now we (having raked together all the news of the whole Town) when we are met together, and are sitting at our supper, every man opens his store, and tells what hath passed in Court, some relating one thing, and some another. Besides, there is not that Victualing-house or Tavern, but whatsoever hath been talked of there, is brought to our ears. For there likewise are held your open Courts, and public Assemblies, where all questions and doubts are winnowed and sifted to the full, nothing escapes their search and inquiry; There they limit the Turks power, reform Counsels, and tax your Ministers of State.  
In a word, there all things are made known, there all things are treated of, and they are the Lawgivers', that prescribe rules to all; for they speak all out of Bacchus his own mouth, having Ceres for their Ascendent, conversing 
In Vino ve●…itas.  with a full belly, and a free heart, and if the Wine 
a Si el Vino es nuevo, hierue la tinaja.  be new, the Vessel will run over, it must needs work, and can no longer hold. With that then, which we have learned from others, we come afterwards to sit and determine of every particular passage, every man according to his several opinion, setting down his several censure. One while we resolve, that these Companies are to march towards Italy; and that went for good, and past the more currant amongst us, because their Banners were advanced towards Mancha, and were now far entered into that Country, passing from Almodovar and Argamafilla, along the skirts of the Kingdom of Toledo, till they had got to Alcala do Henares, and Guadalajara, compassing all the way as they went, the Mediterranean Sea.  
Me thought, this was a very good occasion for me to take hold on, for the 
Guzman, desirous to pass out of Spain into Itahe.  executing of my former desires, which with earnest longings did mightily spur me on to undergo this Voyage, that I might know mine own blood, and whence I was descended, how I was allied, and of what quality my Parents and Kindred were. But I was so tottered and torn, and so utterly unprovided of all things for this my intended journey, that the bridle of Reason made me stop upon my course, and held me back from going farther forward, it seeming unto me (upon better deliberation) a thing impossible to be effected. But notwithstanding, my mind ran still on nothing else.  
This was still in my head, and I could not beat it out. In the day time it was my study; and in the night I dreamed still on that, and nothing but that. And if that Roman Proverb taketh place (Si quieres ser Papa, estampalo en la testa) if thou mindest to be Pope, thou must have him writ in thy 
Pr●….  forehead: it was truly verified in me. For, as I was beating my brains about this business, tossing them a thousand times to and fro, full of this solicitous care▪ I sat me down on the one side of the Place, near unto one of the Shops, where myself, and this my other Associate were want to make our Rendeuo●…s; And leaning my cheek (in a melancholy manner) upon my hand, being fully resolved to go, though it were but in the place of a straggler, to wait upon the Soldiers, and to carry their luggage for them, thinking this would be place good enough for me, if I could not light on a better.  
Whilst I was devising this with myself, on the sudden I heard a voice, which said; Guzman, Guzmanillo? I looked about, and turned my face towards the place, from whence the voice came. And I perceived at last, it was a Grocer, that stood under the walking place underset with Pillars, that called me unto him, near adjoining to the Butcher-row. I held up my hand, and made a sign unto him, that I would hasten thither. I got me up, and came to see, what he would with me. He spoke unto me, and bid me open my Basket. I did so. That no sooner done, but he throws me into it, about some two thousand five hundred Royals in Silver and Gold, and in some few Quartes. I asked him; To what Brazier I should carry this Copper? Copper, you rogue? Co●…e, up, and away with it, for I must go pay it to a Merchant a 
Guzman resolves to ●…cale a sum of money, and puts it in execution.  stranger, that hath sold me some Wares at my shop.  
He said one thing, and I thought another: which was, to show him a trick at the next turning. And believe me, the joyful news of a desired birth, did never come more welcome to the ears of a loving Father: Nor the Mariner beaten by tempest, did with more joy discover on the sudden the Harbour, that he sought to put into: Nor any rendered Town, to that famous Captain that besieged it, gave so much content, nor had so sweet a sound with it, or afforded so pleasing an Accent; as I conceived then in my soul, hearing that sweet and melodious voice of my Grocer, when he said, 
b The Spanish word is Capacha: à Capacitate.  Open thy Basket. Methought it was a brave word, they were letters of Gold engraven in my heart, leaving it full of joy, but much more when they had qualified themselves, by actually putting me into a quiet and peaceable possession of that, which I was persuaded would be my best remedy.  
Upon this lucky encounter, I began already to dispose of this money, and to change my course of life. I laded my shoulders with it, feigning; that it did weigh very heavy, but my heaviness was the more, that there was no more of it. My honest Grocer, he (good man) goes afore, and I follow after, but with a wondrous desire to meet with some throng, or press of people in some street or other, or to slip aside into some house, where I might effect my purpose. Fortune (as good luck was) had, in the very nick, fitted me with one, just according to the measure of my desire. For if I would have wished for an opportunity, I could not have desired a fairer. For as I was entering into the principal Gate, I got me away some three streets from thence by a blind Postern door, and fetching boards from one corner to another, with somewhat a quick, but not discomposed pace, that I might the better avoid all suspicion. I went away gallantly, winding this way, and turning that way, till I had got to 
c A chief Gate so called.  Puerta la Rega, where I eased myself of my load, and made down to the River. From thence I crossed over to 
d A house of pleasure belonging to the King of Spain, not far from Madrid.  Casa del Ca●…po, and being holpen by the night, I walked (through a little thicket of Alder trees, Poplars, and other well-grown bushes of thorn) a League farther: in the thickest part whereof I cast Anchor, and had now pitched my Standard, that I might with mature counsel think upon things to come, and what fruit and benefit I might make of my late purchase. For it is not enough to begin well, nor to go on well, but to end well. For to little use serve good beginnings, and better proceedings, unless they be crowned with prosperous end. What good would this theft have done me, if I had been taken with it, but to lose that, and with it, perhaps my ears, if not to have been 
e The Spanish p●…se is, aver comprado un cabo de anno. i. La memoria y sufragios, que se hazen por el difunto, cumplido el anno que muriò. That is, the 〈◊〉 & suffrages, which are made for the de●…, the year being fully 〈◊〉 after his 〈◊〉. Covarrwias. Verb. C●…o.  hanged for my labour, if I had been of years? There I entered into consultation with myself, what I were best to do: I made trial where the water was deepest, and there where the bushes were thickest, I made a deep hole; and wrapping the money in the linings of my breeches and my doublet, I put it in, covering it over very handsomely with sand and stones; setting up a mark, that I might not forget the place where I had hid it, hankering thereabouts, that I might ever and anon have an eye upon it, for the space of almost fifteen days: And all because I would not trouble myself hereafter in seeking for it some two foot nearer or farther off, which would have been as bad as death unto me, if I should not have happened to light upon it, as soon as ever I had thrust in my hand. And the rather, for that some nights I went from thence to the neighbouring places thereabouts, to get me some victuals for three or four days, returning presently back again to my old haunt, keeping myself close, after the Sun once began to peep forth, in that Wood adjoining to the 
a Pardo is a house of pleasure, seated in a Wood, belonging to the King of Spain, near to Madrid. It comes from the word pards, Par adisus, id est, hortus domesticus arboribus consitus, Pomarium. And amongst other significations, it is taken for a Park. Genebrard upon the Cantic. saith, Pards vocabulum est Persicum, quod in omnes fere linguas manavit pro horto pretioso & delicioso omnium arborum genere consito. Covarrwias. Verb. Pardo.  Pardo.  
Hither, in this manner as you see, had I withdrawn myself, till the Hue and Cry were past and gone, which undoubtedly was made after me. Now by this time, they had lost my footing, and I conceiving with myself, that the Coast was now clear, and that I might safely pass, that I might remove my Tent, and march forward, I made me up a little fardel of the old linings that were left of my jerkin, wherein I had closely leapt up this my heartblood. So that I had nothing now left me, save the old linings of my Breeches, a poor ragged Doublet, and a Shirt all torn and full of holes, but all as white and clean as a curd, for I had lately washed them. So that I was apparelled all in white, being wonderful well fitted for to make up one in a 
b The Spanish phrase, is Dança de espadas. A dance much used in the Kingdom of Toledo; they dance it in their shirts, and Breec●…es of Linen, and night. Caps on their heads, & bright Swords; it is full of changes, and one amongst the rest, which they call Degollada; proque cercan el cuello del que los quia con las espadas, y quando pareçe que se la van à cortar por todos parts, se les escurre de entre ellas. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 siue, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Covarru.  Morris-dance. I got me two delicate fine walking Cudgels, which I had cut myself, and peeled off the Rind, and made as smooth and neat as could be devised. On the one, I hung the precious bundle, which I bore at my back; the other I made a Truncheon of it, to carry in my hand. I was now fat and full fed, and began to grow weary of being any longer a Conie in that Warren, fearing lest one of the Keepers, or some other Ferreter, should find me there in the Berrie, and pull me out as a suspicious person; To prevent that, I began to take my journey by night, when it was dark, going out of the rode-way, taking cross, paths, by-places, and untrodden tracks, passing thorough La Sagra de Toledo, a certain Territorie belonging to that kingdom, till I came two leagues beyond it, to a little place that stood in a bottom called Açuqueica,; whither I had reached betimes in the morning. There I rested myself under the shadow of certain Quince-trees, where I meant to spend that day. Where e'er I was aware, I found hard by me a pretty young stripling, much about my pitch. He seemed to be some Citizen's son, who out of some unaduised consideration as mine was, had forsaken his Parents to travel abroad, and go see the world; He carried his Fardel at his back, and being but a young novice, bred up daintily, and newly taken from his mother's teat, the Milk yet hanging on his lips, was weary of his burden, and himself seemed heavy, in having so heavy a load: sure, he had no great mind to return home again to his friends; and as little, that they should find him out. He walked as I did, in the day thorough Groves and thickets, and in the night along the highway, seeking covert, where to shroud himself. Which the rather I ghes●…e to be so, for that, from our arrinall there, until it were night, that we were to depart, he did not budge a foot from the place where I was. When we were to go our ways, taking up his Fardel very heavily, he let it fall again to the ground, saying, Gods curse go with thee, a little thing would make me to leave thee here behind me.  
Now, I must tell you by the way, that we had had some talk together before, and exchanged (as occasion offered) good store of words, taking account one of another of our Voyages, and what, and whence we were; He did not deal truly with me, and I would not confess myself to him; For by mine own lies, I knew those that he told me. And so we were both paid in our own coin. All that I could suck from him, was; that he acquainted me with his wants.  
Now finding the coniuncture good, and the distaste great, which he had taken at that heavy burden which he bore at his back; but much more, that his purse was so light, I began to conjecture with myself, that it might haply be a suit of clothes: Whereupon, I asked him, what luggage was that he carried, which did give him so much trouble, and made him so weary? He●… told me it was a suit of apparel. This suited well with my desires; the induction (me thought) was good. Thereupon, I proceeded farther, and told him; Sir, I could give you reasonable good counsel, if you would be willing to accept of it. He entreated me to give it him, and that finding it to be such, he should be very thankful unto me for it.  
My advice then unto him, was; That since he went laden with that, which as yet he had no great need of, nor would it much import him, if he had, that he should rid himself of it, and have recourse to that, which might be more necessary for him. here you carry a wardrobe, or what else so ever it be, about you; I would wish to sell it, and put it in your purse; for besides that it will weigh less, you shall make your profit of the money you shall receive for it.  
The young Youth discreetiy replied, (for your Toledanoes have passing good wits:) This advice of yours I like well, and would follow it; but I hold it impertinent for the present. And Consejo, sin remedio, es cuerpo sin alma. Counsel, without a cure, is a body, without a Soul. What doth it import me to sell 
Prou●…b.  it, if I want a Chapman to buy it? I have no occasion to go into any Town, either to truck for it, or to sell it, and no body will buy it of me, that does not know me.  
Then I demanded of him; what pieces they were that he had in his pack? He told, they were certain clothes for change, when he was minded to ●…hift those others that he had on his back. I asked him of the colour, and whether it had been much worn? He answered me, that it was a mingled colour, and reasonable good. This pleased me better and better, I could not dislike of it: Thereupon, I offered him present payment, if the clothes did fit me.  
The Youth began to look sadly upon me, as one that had been struck into a muse, and fell to eye me from top to toe; for all that I had on my back, was not worth so much thread as would serve to bind up a farthing-worth of Saffron, it was not worth one poor small Comin-seed, and yet I should have the face to offer him money for his clothes.  
This imagination was mine own; and it may be, it entered into his conceit, that I was a little young thief, and that I would put some trick or other upon him. For he stood in suspense, consulting with himself, whether he were best to show them unto me, or no? For he knew not how to trust me. And my fashion was then such, that he could not hope, nor surmise, that any good thing should come from me. So much difference is there between good and bad clothes, that it gives either a good or a bad presumption of a man's person, according to that old Adage; Qual te hallo, tall te juzgo. As I find you, so I take you. For where knowledge doth not inform, there the habit doth qualify. But this Proverb is oft checked: Queen debaxo ●…e mala capa, 〈◊〉 ●…uer buen v●…dor. Under a threadbare cloak, lies many times much learning. And beggarly bottles oftentimes hold rich Wines. I did presently 
Prou.  apprehend his thought, as if I had been within him; And that I might reduce him to a better opinion of me, and alter his conceit, I said unto him; My pretty little Youth, I would have you know, that I am as good a man as yourself, and every way as well borne, though I have forborn till now to give you account what I am; but because thou mayst lay aside all fears and jealousies, I am now minded thou shalt have it. My native soil is Burgos; there was I borne, and thence did I set forth, (as thou dost now,) reasonable well acoutred. I have already done that, which I now advice thee unto: I sold my clothes, as having then no need of them, and with that money which I had for them, together with that which I brought from home, I will buy me other, when I shall come, where I have occasion to use them. And by being careful in looking well to my money, (hiding it in some secret place about me,) and by travelling upon the way in these tottered rags, (which I now have on) I secure my life, and pass freely to and fro.  
For no man will set upon him that is poor. He lives safely, and dwells 
A poor man li●…es secure from harm.  in places un-peopled, and dis-inhabited, without any fear at all of thieves that should come to rob him, or murderers to assault him on the way, and take his life from him. If therefore you have any mind to it, sell me what you have no need of, and doubt not my payment, for I am well able to do it. I am near to Toledo, whither I am bound; I would gladly go in a little handsomer, and not in this base and vile habit that I have now about me. The Youth undid his Fardel, takes me out a Cloak, a pair of Breeches, a Cassock, two Shirts, and a pair of Silk Stockings, all as fit for me, as if they had been made of purpose for me.  
I agreed with him for a hundred Royals, nor were they worth any more; for although the clothes were well used, and little worn, yet the cloth was none of the finest. I ripped open the one side of my bundle, and took out thence as many Q●…rtes as served the turn; which gave him no small trouble, when he perceived the baseness of the money; for though it went against his stomach to bear any more burdens, yet he could by no means excuse it. But he comforted himself with this, that it was lighter than the other, and more use full upon all occasions. The bargain ended, we shook hands, and parted. He went to seek his fortune, I know not whither. And I that night, though late, entered Toledo.   

CHAPTER VIII.  
How Guzman de Alfarache, clothing himself like a Gallant in Toledo, makes love to certain Gentlewomen: He telleth how things passed with them, and how there, and in Malagon they scorned him; He discourseth of youthful jollity, and of the craft and subtil●…y of your Spanish women; which may serve for an Instruction, and warning to all young men.  
IT is a common saying; Q●… aunque vistan a la mona de seda, mona se queda. An Ape, though he be clad in gold, will 
Prou.  be an Ape still. And this is so infallibly true, that it admitteth no exception. A man may easily alter his Habit, but hardly change his evil conditions. He may entertain and deceive folks with his clothes, though he himself be stark naked, and stripped of all goodness. I will presently turn Gallant, and as soon return again to my old trade; be a Gentleman to day to morrow a Porter. For, he that knows not how to live by the sweat of his b●…owes, must quickly fall into poverty, as you shall see in the sequel of this Story.  
The first thing that I did the next morning, was the altering of my Doublet, my Shoes, and my Hat; I took off that Taffeta, that was on the Cape of my 
Guzman comes to Toledo, and puts himself into handsome apparel  Cloak, and put on other of another colour; I clapped new buttons upon my Ca●…sock; I took off the sleeves that were of Cloth, and in their stead set to others, that were of Silk: so that with a little cost, I had quite altered the fashion of those clothes I had lately bought; fearing lest for my sinnes-sake, or by some other misfortune, I might be taken in some trap, and so come to pay both for this, and the last years reckoning. For if (by chance) this young Youths friends should send after him, and make inquiry for him, and should hap to light upon me, and find his clothes on my back, they would presently suspect, that I had killed him to get his clothes, and so demand their lost child of me, and drive me to give them an account, what was become of him.  
When I had fitted myself to my mind, I walked up and down the City some two days together, making inquiry, where, or in what place were any Companies of Soldiers, that were to go upon service, but could not of any hear any certain news. Thus I went beating the air, as one that was idle, and had nothing else to do.  
And as I passed by 
Socodover is the great Marketplace in Toledo. Compounded of Saca, that is a place; and dequevir, which signifies, great; which put together, makes Sacadquevir, and by corruption Socodover. Diego de Vrrea saith, it comes from Sacud de va●…r. A word compounded of Scicun, which is, a place; and of the Verb Saca, which is to draw▪ & from devair, which signifieth all kind of sou●…efooted Beasts for burden. So that Socodover, is as it were a place, where beasts are broug●…t laden with ●…ctuals, and other provision, to sell in the open Market. Covarrunias.  Socodover, (which I crossed but seldom, and that with fear: and if I went out of my lodging, it was against my will, and that late, not sleeping three nights in one place, lest, if any man should chance to know me, I might be apprehended and carried to prison:) it was my hap to see a Gentleman, mounted on a Mule, to cross the way, going (as it should seem) to the Court, so handsomely clad, and so well suited, that I did envy his gallantry. His breeches were of Murry Velvet, cut with somewhat a long, but delicate fine cut, drawn out upon Cloth of Silver: His doublet of Cloth of Gold, upon which he had a Buff jerkin, laid on with a costly Milane-Lace, some three fingers broad. He had a brave Hat, answerable to the rest, embroidered about the brims, and well set forth with its Feather, and was not a little graced by the Hatband, which was set thick with Gold-Buttons, inammeled with black.  
This Gentleman road 
b A man is said to be en Cuerpo, when he goes without a cloak, being in his bare Hose and D●…. Guzman's vain and idl●… humour.  en cuerpo, in his Hose and Doublet. But in his Port-Manteau he had a Cloak, which (if I be not deceived) was of Rash, or else of fine Cloth, oflike colour to his Hose, rounded about, with a broad Parchment Gold Lace, suitable to that of his jerkin. These good clothes of his set an edge on my appetite. And seeing I had not got my money by Thrashing, but came by it so easily, it began to laugh and tighie in my purse, it jeered and it fleered, and (like a little young Devil) went jingle, jingle, jingle.  
When I saw my purse was set upon this merry pin, I could hold no longer for my heart, but broke presently with him, and told him in good earnest, If you have a mind to dance, I shall not stick to pipe unto you: And if you will not lead on merrily of your own accord, I shall be as loath to keep you any longer company. And therefore I would wish you to accomplish this my desire, satisfying me herein, and that quickly, without any farther delay.  
Hereupon I went forthwith to a Merchant's shop, bought all things fitting, called a Tailor unto me, and caused him to cut out my clothes, who made such good haste, that he was (as the phrase is) ni oydo, ni visto; neither heard, nor seen. It was finished in a trice, before any words were made of it, or any eye had seen it. For in three days, he brought it me home, and put it on my back; being just the same with the other, and as like, as like could be, all save the Buff jerkin, which because I could not meet with a good one according to my mind, I made me one of Murrey Satin, trimmed with trensi●…s of Gold. My Garters were of Straw-colour, fringed about with Gold Lace, and purled with Spangles. So that now I did scarce know myself; I was grown so fine on the sudden; all was in very good order, and myself not a little proud of it.  
Now I had no more to do, but to set a good face on the matter: and to say the truth, for a good face; when I was a Boy, there were few that had a better. For I was very vvell-fauoured, my eye quick, and my countenance throughout very pleasing. When I saw what a gallant Soldier I was grown, I did proudly jet it about the streets of Toledo, in a very good Equipage, as if I had been the son of some principal Man of note. I likewise entertained to attend on my person, a pretty handsome Page, and well clad; and I fell into acquaintance with one that was well skilled in the fashions of that Country, and spoke excellent language.  
I conceited then with myself (seeing myself thus enthronized, and so well accoutred) that my Father was alive again, and that I was restored to those prosperous times, wherein I was borne: I thought myself the happiest man in the world, and took such delight in my gay clothes, that a nights I was loath to put them off, and a days, I left no street untrodden, to the end that all might see me; though I would not, that any should know me. I got me up betimes one Sunday morning, put on a proud and stately gate, and in all this my gallantry stepped me with a jolly presence into the Cathedral Church, for to hear Mass, though (let me whisper it in your ear) I went thither more (I fear me) for ostentation, than devotion; not so much to hear, as to be seen. I walked round about the Church some three or four times at least; I visited the Chapels, (which were most resorted unto) till at last I came between the two Quires, where I stayed: There I saw many Ladies and Gentlewomen, and a great many of Gallants. But I did strut and 
The Spaniard hath naturally a proud kind of gate.  set forth myself, as if I had been the only Cock of the game, and all the rest Cravens; none of their combs nor feathers were so goodly (me thought) as mine own. I did put them down all for a brave suit of clothes. And like a bonny-Shepheard, made show of all the whole fleece, as one that was very willing, that they should take a general survey both of my person, and Apparel, not debarring their eyes of those lesser objects, as my girdle, garters, and shoe-ties, which were all del Tudesco, curious and delicate work, right Flanders.  
I stretched forth my neck, bore out my breast, stood stiff upon my legs, advancing one while this, and then that other foot; carrying myself in that vain and idle fashion, that every one at last had found me out, and observing the strangeness of my looks my Mimic gestures, and often change of Postures, they began to jest and scoff at my folly. But as long as they looked upon me, I ne'er looked into that; nor did I so much as once perceive, that my faults were the strings whereon their laughter played. But I rather thought with myself, that they did admire my curiosity, and my gallantry.  
And this is all, that offers itself to be spoken of concerning the men. But a pretty accident happened unto me amongst the women, not unworthy such fools as myself; and this it was: Two amongst the rest were present there at that time, one of the which (being borne in that City, and of extraordinary beauty) fixed her eyes upon my person, (or to speak more truly) upon my purse; persuading herself, that I that had such good clothes, could not choose but have good store of money. But for the present, I took no notice of that, nor did I care to cast an eye towards her, because I had swallowed the others bait, that sat on the other side. Who having made (as children use to do) some signs unto her with my finger, smiled upon me, and cast a kind of 
Guzman caught with a look, and a smile.  sly look towards me. I thought that was enough, and that the goal was already gotten. I persevered in my ignorance, and she in her cunning carriage, till that going out of the Church, she went home to her house, and I after her, walking leisurely along. I ventured upon her, and falling into discourse with her, vented some of my fooleries: But she, (as if she had been made of stone) answered me not a word, nor risented nothing that I said unto her: yet for all this she did not stick now and then to turn her head aside towards me, and to discover her face unto me, which was the fire, that did burn me alive. At last we come to a street, near unto the 
a Solana, Corredor de Sol. Solarium. Verb: Solana. Covan ●…uias  Solana of St. Cyprian, where she dwelled. And as she entered into her house, it seemed (stooping to go in) that she made me a kind of reverence and curtsy with her head; and me thought hereys laughed as it were upon me, and her countenance showed itself very cheerful. With this (for this time) I left her, and returned back to my lodging the same way I came. But I had not gone many steps, but it was my hap to spy a young Wench that had taken up her standing at the corner of the street, who had wrapped herself up so close in her Mantle, that you could scarce perceive the eyes of her. This Wench had dogged me, and putting 
The cunning of your Spanis●… women.  only forth those her two lesser fingers of her fair hand, with them and her head, she called and beckoned me unto her. I came unto her, to know what she would be pleased to command me. Who made a long discourse unto me, telling me that she was servant to such a married Gentlewoman, a woman of very good fashion, and principal quality, to whom I was much obliged, and could not out of nobleness, but think myself much bound unto her, for the extraordinary love which she bore unto me.  
And therefore, as well in regard of this her good affection towards myself, as also in respect of her own condition, (being so great and so worthy) and the strength of her Alliance and Kindred, which were men of no mean power and estimation in those parts; that I would be pleased to acquaint her where I lodged, because she had some earnest business to treat with me, and must needs speak with me, for it did much concern her so to do. I was so taken with this, that I had much ado (as they say) to keep myself from leaping out of mine own skin; nor would I have changed this good fortune of mine, with the best that ever befell Alexander the Great: Soothing and flattering myself with this vain conceit, that all the Ladies and Gentlewomen in the Town were fall'n in love with me, and now began to strive who should enjoy me first.  
To this her message, I returned a very grave & demure answer, with a grateful acknowledgement of this her offered (though undeserved) favour, which when she shall be pleased to make me worthy thereof, I shall think myself not only the most graced, but the most fortunate, and happiest man in the world. In this conversation, by little and little, we draw near to my Lodging. She took notice of it, and leave being taken each of other, I get me in to dinner, for it was more than time.  
Now, for that I knew not what this Gentlewoman was, and had never seen her heretofore (to my knowledge) my longing was not so great to look after her, as was my desire to see this other. I thought every hour a thousand year, till I might come to see her again; Time (me thought) was too slow of wing, his Glass did not run fast enough, his scythe did not sweep away the loitering hours half so speedily, as I could have wished. Yet at last I hie me to the street where she dwelled, bestowing there more turns, and circling more rounds about her house, than a Mill-horse, or a Mule that draws in an 
a Anoria, is an engine that goes with wheels, to draw water out of a Well. Some would have it to come from Anno, a year. For as the Sun passing thorough the twelve Signs, causeth the year, and brings it abo●…t anew: So that Wheel, when it is down at the l●…est, comes about abo●…t. Some say it is compounded ded of am, circum; and haurio, taking up the water as it turns about. Others, of 〈◊〉, sursum and 〈◊〉, fluo, because it causeth the water below, to come up. Others from the w●…rd Annuere, To incline. Others, from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Reftauro, restituo, renovo. Because when they are empty, they come to be filled afresh. Others of the word, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Haustoria, which signifieth Anoria, quasi Antloria. Of the Verb Antlo, antlas. Diego de Vrrea says, it is an Arabic word, of the Verb Nevare, to go round, making a noise, as Anoria doth. Padre Guadix, that it is called Noria, from Naaura, which is as much as a wheel●…g, or turning about. Covarru.  Anoria; yet at last, when it grew somewhat late, and the day shut up, she came forth (as by stealth) to talk with me from her window. Then did we enter discourse, and exchanged many words; at last she told me, that I must needs that night come and sup with her. I commanded my servant to provide me a good fat Capon, a brace of Partridge, a baked Conie, a bottle of the Wine 
b Vino del Santo, a rich kinds of ●…ine, as famous about Toledo; as that of Ayon Na●…tueil in France.  del Santo, and as good bread as could be got for money, fruits and other the like things for the latter course, and that he should make haste, and bring them away with him.  
Afcer that the night was well in, thinking it was now high time, I went to the place appointed, where I was kindly received, and entertained with all the kindness and courtesy that could be devised. It was now a fit hour for supper, and therefore entreated her, that she would command the Table to be covered. But she finding out fresh matter to work upon, and spending the time in new entertainments, spun out the thread still longer and longer, adding one delay to another; I marvelled a God what she meant by it; I knew not in the world what to make of it.  
At last, whilst I was musing upon it, she puts me into a Labyrinth, beginning to tell me that she was a Virgin, her descent Noble, her condition and quality, of those of the best rank, and that she had a brother, an unruly young fellow, ill governed, and worse-conditioned, subject to swaggering, and to quarrelling; a kind of roaring-Boy; one that never came within doors, unless it were sometimes to his dinner or his supper, and all the rest both day and night, he spent in play, and other youthful pleasures.  
Whilst we were in this deep discourse, behold, one knocks aloud at the door. She cries out, Ay me! what shall I do? I am undone, I am undone. So much was she moved, so distractedly troubled with this feigned perturbation, so good a face did she set upon this falsehood, and did dissemble this her passion so handsomely, that she might have therewith deceived a wiser, and better experienced man then myself. And though this Gentlewoman knew very well, both the end and the means, whereby all this business was to be carried, yet did she play her part so well, that she seemed to be mightily afflicted, as one that knew not which way to turn herself. And as if then presently that remedy had occurred unto her, (as a thing suddenly thought upon) she desired me of all loves to put myself for a while into a 
a Tinaja, a large wide Vessel of earth, as big as a Tun. Antonius draws its Etymology from Tinea. Alio nomine, Dolium. In Spain they usually fill them with water, with Oil; with Wine, or the like.  Tinaja, that had no water in it, yet was it not without some droppings, and a kind of sliminess hanging about the sides of it, and that none of the cleanest. This earthen Vessel stood in the outward Court under the Porch. I got in as well as I could, as willing to do what she would have me; she claps a Lid over it, and when she had lo done, she returns to her Estrado, she was scarce set, but her brother comes in; who seeing such a great smoke in the house, said unto her; Why how now sister, what mean you by this? are you turned Gallant, and think to outbrave me with this smoke? it is marvel you do not let the rain drip in to drive me hence. What have we to supper? so much smoke must promise much good cheer. It is not I trow, a great deal of fire (as they say) and a little roast.  
And as he went thus talking along, he entered into the Kitchen; where he had no sooner seen our provision, but he gets him out again, saying; Here's brave doings indeed; it is news to see this, Sister. Which of us two, I pray, is to be married this night? How came this hither into the house, and when? What curious banquet is this, or who the guests that are invited unto it? Is this the confidence I have had of you? Is this the honour which I maintain? and this the reputation, that you give to your Father's house, and to me your unfortunate brother? I must know the truth of this business, or else it is like to be a black night. She excused herself unto him, but how or which way, I cannot tell you; for partly through fear, and partly because the T●…naja was covered, I could not well either hear or understand more than the noise which her words sent forth. And in this choleric humour of his, being much offended with her, he willed her to sit down at board. And when they had supped, he in his own person went down with a Candle, and fell to searching of the house, and had made fast the door, that opened out into the street: And they two entering together into their private chambers, remained there within, and I without in the Tinaja. All this while I was very attentive to whatsoever was said or done, and earnestly betook myself to my devotions, insomuch, that there was not any one prayer that I had learned all my life-time, that I did not ton over and over, that God might blind his eyes, and that he might not see where I was.  
And finding myself out of danger, lifting up the cover, I thrust out my head a little to see whether my Mistress were coming, or that I could hear her either cough, or spit, whether any Cat were stirring about the house, or any thing else whatsoever. Every thing that moved, my mind still gave me that it should be she. But seeing that she stayed so long away, and that the house w●…s wonderful quiet, I leapt out of the belly of my Tinaja, like another jonas out of the Whales, though not so clean as I could wish.  
But it was my good hap, that for fear of such mischances, which are wont to happen, especially to youngmen, I had reserved my better clothes for the day, making use a nights of that old Suit, which I had bought before, so that the care I took was not great, and it did so much the less grieve me. I ranged round about the house, and went from lodging to lodging, till I came at last to her Chamber, where I began with my finger to scratch the door, like a dog; and did the like upon the floor, and all that she might hear me: but this deaf Adder, was of that evil condition, that she had stopped her ears.  
In this kind of language the night wore away, and the day began to appear: which when I perceived, enraged, afflicted, desperate, and ready to freeze for cold, opening the street door, and pulling it after me, I went forth (like a fool as I was) cursing and blaspheming, 
a The Spanish 〈◊〉, Echando mantas, y no de lano. Casting abroad C●…rless, but not of Wool: i. vs●… hairy and ●…sh ●…ds, 〈◊〉 mild ●…d 〈◊〉 words, like wool.  fretting and fuming, and making crosses on the wall, with a purpose never to come there any more.  
Musing upon my misfortunes, I drew near to mine own lodging, finding not far from thence a Cook's shop open, where I filled my belly with Pies, such as are eaten by such Picaros and Rogues, as myself, which were to me more savoury, than any other. And with them, that rage, and wrathful choler descended down into my stomach, which stuck before in my throat, and was ready to choke me. My lodging was near at hand, I called to my servant, who (waiting there for me) opened the door; I came in, put off my clothes, and got me to bed. But the remembrance of the wrong that I had received, would not suffer me to sleep, nor to take any rest. One while I condemned myself, another while my Mistress, and by fits would lay the blame upon mine own ill fortune.  
And while I was debating these things with myself, it being now broad day, behold, one knocks at my Chamber door, and it was the Maid that had dogged me the day before, and her Mistress with her, who was no sooner come in, but she sets herself down in a Chair, close by my bedside, and her 
This is an ordinary fashion in Spain.  servant that waited on her, sat upon the ground near unto the door. The Gentlewoman asked me along Story of my life; Who I was? what my business? and how long I stayed in Town? But the Devil a word of truth, that she could get from my mouth. All that I told her, were arrant lies; for I was made of nothing else. And thinking to deceive her, she caught me in the trap. I went satisfying of her demands, but fell short (I know not how) in that part of mine account, which concerned me most. For, whereas I should have said, That I was to reside there some certain months. I told her that I passed as a Traveller, and was shortly to be gone. She, that she might not lose the advantage of the Dice, and to show what a poor gamester I was, in seeking after such tr●…sitorie sport, that was to last so little awhile, (but a cast, and away) made sure account, if I would but set out her hand lively, to put a trick upon me. And thereupon, she presently began to pitch the Hay, wherewith she meant ●…o catch the Conie.  
Thus resolved, she carelessly, (or rather with a great, deal of careless care) w●…nt discovering her bravery in her clothes, which was neat and delicate, with rich abillir●…ts of Gold, withother things under her gown, which was of Naples Grogram, choicer Silk all Italy was not able to afford.  
And taking out certain Beads of Coral out of her pocket, she made show of playing with them in her hand, tossing them to and fro; and within a little while after, she feigned that she missed a Relic, which was fastened thereunto. She seemed to be much afflicted for the loss of it, saying, tha●… it was her husbands. And therewithal she suddenly rose up, as if it did import her to go back again presently to her own house, that she might lose no time for the finding of it again, if by chance she had there let it fall. And albeit I promised to give her such another, and persuaded her all that I could, and made her large offers, I could not win her to stay any longer.  
Away she went, yet passing her word unto me, that she would come again to visit me, and send her Maid back again unto me, as soon as she came home, to advise me, if she had found her lost jewel. It made me very melancholy, and grieved me much, that she should in this fashion go away from me, for that (as I told you before) she was marvelous beautiful, exceeding gallant, and wonderful discreet. I had a great mind to sleep, and settled myself to take some rest, but I could not continue it for above two hours. I had too many cares in my head to take any case, and therefore I arose, that I might think the better of them, when I was up.  
By that time I had made myself ready, dinner came in; & while I was yet sitting at the table, her Maid entered the room. Who (being a witty Wench as she was) entertained me till dinner was ended. And then she told me, that she was once more come back again to see, whether her Mistress, playing there with her Rosario in her hand, had by chance let fall that piece? We were all down upon our knees, to see if we could have the good luck to find it; but it could not be found, because it was never lost.  
When we had given over looking, I complemented with her, and told her, that I did not grieve so much for the worth of the thing itself, as for her sake, whose it was.  
Then did she figure forth unto me the bigness, the proportion, and the true fashion of it, obliging me with good words, to buy her such another; promising, that her Mistress should not fail to be with me the next day following betimes, making some fair excuse (the better to colour the business,) to go on Pilgrimage to our Lady's Shrine, or some other the like Visit.  
Upon this I went along with her to the Goldsmiths, and bought her a dainty fine little golden book, curiously wrought, which her Maid had made 
Many l●…e Ma●…. ●…hes are ●…de 〈◊〉 Spain, under these holy pretences.  choice of; and it may be she had her direction from her Mistress, as having had her sight of this pretty toy but lately before. Howsoever I am sure they went clean away with it, for 〈◊〉 could never after see either Mistress, or Maid.  
Now was it about three in the afternoon, and I had not yet digested the bread that lay in my stomach; I was ready to dye out of a longing desire that I had to know the occasion, and to search out the true reason of the last night's passage, and whether it were a matter of earnest, or a trick put upon me? And so putting this affront out of mind, as if there had never been a●…y such matter, I returned to former walk: Where I found my Mistress looking very heavily on the matter, her countenance was s●…d and mela●…ly; and making show, as if she had stayed there for me, sh●… bec●…ed unto me with her hand to come unto her, putting her fore ●…riger upon her mouth, and casting her eye behind he●…, (as if she were as●…ayd left some body should watch her,) she drew near unto the door, and v●…spered s●…tly v●…o 〈◊〉, that I should go gently on a sore to the great Church, and so I did. She takes her Mantle, and hastens after me, meeting both, as it were ●…t one instant 〈◊〉 the two Quires; and she passing quite through them, went dire●…y out of the Church, into the Calle de la 
a They have an old Tale in Spain; That the men, to keep their wives from gadding abroad, did persuade them to use Chapines, that they might seem as tall & handsome as the men, and they made them of a very heavy kind of wood. They made use of this invention of their Husbands, but made them at first hollow within, and afterwards of Cork, to lighten the load, & that they might be able to walk more nimbly. Covarrwias verb. Chapin.  Chapineria, the street where all your women's Chapines are sold; and smiling upon me, and enticing me unto her, with a lovely cast of her eye, she seemed to wish me to follow her. I made after her; she entered into a Merchant's shop, in the 
b Alcana: A known street in Toledo, where all your Mercers dwell. Of the Hebrew word Chana, to buy. Guadix says it is an Arabic word, of alquina, which signifies Gaine. Covarrwias.  Alcana, and I with her. There she gave me satisfaction, vowing with a thousand oaths, that it was no fault of hers, and that she had no hand in that business. She filled my head with this wind: I believed her well-composed lies, she promised this next night to make me amends; and though she were sure to lose her life, she would not spare it, to give me content. She made me so pliable, that she might now work me like Wax. She bought some things, which came to about some hundred and fifty Royals; and when she was to pay for it, she said unto the Mercer; What shall I pay you weekly till this debt be out? He answered, Mistress, see Ware, see Money. I do not use to part with my Wares at this price, nor do I sell upon trust. If you deliver me my money, you may carry away what you have bought; if not, I must entreat you to pardon me.  
Then I told him, Sir, This Gentlewoman is disposed to jest with you, for she has money sufficient to satisfy for a greater matter than this. I am her Purse-bearer, and the Steward of her house. So taking some Crowns out of my pocket, for to show my greatness the more, I freed myself from baseness, and her from her debt: Apprehending then at that instant, that this was but a stratagem of hers, to be paid beforehand, and that she might not be mocked withal, as it often befalleth many women; nor did I repent me of what I had done; it seeming unto me, that by my fair proceeding, I had bound her unto me. Nor would I have given my two employments of that one day, in the pursuit of these two Dames, for all the wealth of Mexico, and Peru. So I asked her, whether she would keep true touch with me or no? And whether I might take sure hold of her promise? And at what hour I should come? She assured me that I might, and for the hour, she would not fail me at ten in the night. She went home to her house, and I to entertain the time abroad; Thinking with myself, that I had seized on two preys at one flight, and took two Trout at one stroke.  
At the hour appointed, I put on my old disguise, and got me to the Mill again. I gave the sign agreed upon between us, which was, to strike certain strokes, with a stone underneath her window. But it was all one, as if I had bestowed those blows upon the Bridge of 
c Alcantara: A Bridge so called in Toledo. In the year 1258. a great part of it was carried away with a Flood; but the year following, it was repaired and new built.  Alcantara.  
I conceived with myself, that the hour was not yet come, or that it was little more than ten of the clock, which made me dance attendance a little longer. And so hour after hour, I stayed waiting there, till it was twelve of the night, now and then making the wont signs.  
But what should a man spend his time in talking to Saint juan de los Reyes, being it is a Statue of Stone? It was but lost labour, a wearying out of myself in vain, and a mere mockery. For he, whom she termed her brother, was her Gallant, and her Sweetheart: and did maintain themselves by these kind of cheating tricks, and consorted both together in all that they did.  
They were of 
d Cordova, is a Noble and famous City in Andaluzia.  Cordova, proper in their persons, and well accommodated; and amongst other young Thrushes, that they had brought into the Net, was a young Scrivener, but newly married, who being whetted on by this Gentlewoman, and tolled on by such trains as she had cunningly laid for him, had given her certain jewels; and as she dealt with me, so did she lead him along with delays, making him to wait upon her pleasure, putting him to fine after fine to purchase his desire. But when he found all was cozenage and Roguery, he resolved to be revenged on her.  
That night I was quite tired out with a tedious expectation, (as you have already heard.) And when I was about to go my way, ●…o, I might discern a great troop of people making towards me, and supposing it to be the justice, I got me a little aside. At last I perceived, that they knocked at that door; I returned back, drawing nearer and nearer, a little and a little, to see what all this company did seek for. And one of the Alguazils (telling them within who they were) caused the door to be opened. When they were all gone in, I got me to the door, that I might the better understand how all things passed. The Alguazil searched all the house over & over, but could not find that he came for. I was about to call unto them, to look into the Tinaja, and to have betook me to my heels when I had done. But the Scrivener presently took that task upon him, and saved me a labour, and had a care that no corner should be left unsearched.  
But, as these things cannot be carried so close, but that they will soon be brought to light, if they be well followed, one by chance lighted upon a single hand Cuffe that lay upon the ground, which at the time of the hiding of her brother's clothes, was let fall and left behind out of haste; and because this was a business undertaken for a friend, and every one was willing to do his best, one of the Alguazils said, This Cuff must have a Master, who ever it be.  
The Gentlewoman would fain have salved up this matter: but having pricked the Hare, these Hounds began to take a little more pains, and to hunt with more metal, in hope to have their game. And one of the Alguazils, seeing a great Coffer there, which (as he thought) might very well contain a man, commanded it to be opened: where they found my Gallant. Whereupon, they were both willed to put on their clothes, and to make themselves ready; which done, they were both for company carried to prison together. I was both contented therewith and ashamed. Contented, that it was my good hap not to be found there; and ashamed that she had gulled me, and made a fool of me. All the remainder of that night, I could not sleep one wink, for, thinking partly on this, and partly on that other Gentlewoman, upon whom, I thought to make myself whole, I did conceit with myself, that she was a woman of another kind of quality, and of a differing fashion from the former.  
All that day I stayed waiting for her, but she did not so much as send me any message by her maid, nor did I know where she lived, nor what she was. You see here how well I employed my pains, and my Purse upon these two, and whether it had not been better for me to have laid out my money in the buying of some fifty young Lambs of a year old. I was now grown desperate, and for my greater comfort amidst these my troubles, at night when I came to my lodging, I met with an Alguazil there, a stranger, making inquiry for I know not what person. Now by this time you may imagine, in what poor case I took myself to be, and how the world was like to go with me. I willed my servant to tell him, that if he had any thing to say to me, he should be sure to find me there the next morning.  
In the meanwhile I walked out by the Gate 
a A gate so called in Toledo, because the entrance thereinto, is hard and difficult, it is an Arabic word, and signifies a thorny place, and full of bushes. Covarru.  del Cambron, where musing, and walking, I continued almost till it was day, framing Discourses to myself, what, or whom it should be, that this Alguazill sought for. But when the morning was come, I thought it a safe hour to go home, with purpose to change both my apparel and my Lodging.  
But by this time, my care was secured; for I was not he that he looked for, as I afterwards understood. I went forth to the Place of Socodover, where I heard two Mules cried for to go for 
b Almagro, a principal Town belonging to the Order de Calatrava. Padre Guadix would have it come from Alma-agua, and of agro. Because those waters thereabouts have a sour taste, though they be wholesome. Others from the colour of the soil, which is red. Vide Covarru. Verb. Almagre.  Almagro; I was slower in the hearing, than the agreeing for them, or in my departing from Toledo. For every thing there me thought smelled of Broome, and the soles of old shoes. That night I reached to 
c A Town in the Kingdom of Toledo, entitled with a Condeship. Tierra umbrosa. Guzman leaves Toledo.  Orgaz the next to Malagon. But being not able, out of the fear I had taken those nights before, to take any rest, I came thither so drowsy, and so sleepy, that I was not able to hold up my head: But another new occasion did awaken me, and made me to rouse up my spirits; which was; That as soon as I was entered into my Lodging, there came to take charge of my clothes, and such other things as I brought in with me, a young Wench, seeming to be something more than a servant, and yet somewhat less than a daughter; She had a good face of her own, a handsome feature, a pleasant behaviour, and had both wit and tongue at will. Which sort of creatures, (to draw both custom and credit to such kind of houses) your honest Inneholders' will be sure to lay wait for, and seldom or never shall you see them unprovided of such pretty Commodities to welcome, and cheer up their Guests. I talked to her, and she answered me; I could not spur her that question, whereunto she did not kick me an answer. One discourse drew on another, and we continued our conversation so far forth, 
A pleasant jest, that past betw●…t Guzman and a pretty Wench at the Inn in Malagon.  that she consented unto me, and had peremptorily given me her promise, that she would come and pass away the time with me, when her Master and Mistress were gone to bed and asleep. She covered the board; I gave her the brawn of the Capon. I drank a Health to her, and she did pledge me; I would have held her fast by the arm; she flies off; I seeking to catch hold of her, and she to get away from me: reaching at her, I fell down upon th'one side to the ground. The Chair was of Wood, and had some turned pieces in it rib-wise, it took me just athwart the midst of my body; whereby I received a shrewd blow. And it was a fair gift of God, that it was not far worse; for if the Dagger that I had at my back, had by chance fall'n out of the sheathe, and pitched with the Pommel on the ground, and the point have been upward, and had lighted between one of those bars or ribs in the Chair, a thousand pound to a penny, but that I had been slain outright in the place; and so there being an end of me, my Creditors had been paid. When I was up, and all was well, I put the question again unto her, whether I should depend upon her coming? She told me I should see, whether she meant to fail me or no? Uttering some other idle foolish speeches, and so went her ways.  
You have heard already how ill I passed those nights before; which made me now so heavy-headed, that it was impossible, that I should any longer bear up, and abstain from sleeping. But I was desirous to rise betimes, whether I slept or no. And therefore I willed my servants, that they should get them straw and Barley, so much as our Mules were to be allowed the next morning, and that they should bring it, and put it in the chamber where I lay. Which being done, having set it near unto the door, they pulled it after them, & leaving it unshut, they went to bed. And albeit sleep would fain have seized upon me, yet my desire kept me waking; but not being able to hold out any longer, I was forced to yield myself under the arrest of Morpheus his Mace, in whose silken bands I was fast, though softly bound.  
About midnight a little she-Asse had slipped her halter in the Stable, and got loose (if she were not left loose before, as I verily persuade myself it was mine Hosts, and went about the house to seek her Provant;) This Ass came to my lodging, and having smelled out the Barley, the little fool thrust in her head, thinking to have met with a good mouthful, and in pressing to come where the Provender was in the Sieve, she wagged, and wagged, this way, and that way, and striving to get in, the door began to creak, I that was mindful of the business, a little thing would suffice to revive my remembrance: And now I was fully persuaded, that I had the Bulls sure enough in the Place, and that they could by no means get from me. And because I was all this while very sleepy, and scarce half awake, I imagined with myself, that she could not find the way to the bed, whereupon I raised myself, and sitting up in my bed, I called her unto me. When the Ass heard my voice, she was afraid; and stood still, save only that she did put one of her fore-feets in the frail wherein the straw was. I thinking that it was the Wench, and that she had stumbled by chance upon it, leapt out of my bed, and said unto her, Come hither, my Love, come to bed, give me thy hand. And because she should reach me, I stretched out my body at large unto her, and lifting up my leg, I hit her with my knee on the snout; with that she lifted up her head, and smote me such a blow with hers on the noddle, that she almost set me on my breech; so much was I astonished therewith. And when she had done, she fled away from me, as fast as her legs would give her leave. For if she had stayed, I should have had much ado (considering the pain I was in) to have forborn to thrust my Dagger up to the hilts in her guts.  
I bled mainly, both at mouth and nose; and cursing Love, and all his cunning tricks to the pit of hell; I knew, that all this happened deservedly unto me; because, being a wild simple Lad as I was, I was so easy of belief. But I quickly made fast my door, and got me to bed.   

CHAP. IX.  
How Guzman de Alfarache lists himself for a Soldier. He telleth, whence that ill phrase grew. En Malagon, en cada casa un ladron; y en lo del Alcalde, hijo y padre. In Malagon, every house a thief; And in that of the Alcalde two: The father and the son. How in a short time, through ill government, all Guzman's money is gone; How to his grief he is forced to serve a Captain. Some lessons are given to young men. To these are added the faults of bad Ministers in matters of war-fare.  
AS if Love had not been a desire of Immortality, bred in an idle mind; without any beginning of Reason, without any subjection to Law, which is entertained by the Will; but with it, cannot not be put off; easy in its entrance to the heart, but hard to be thrust out again; I began to swear, that I would never more follow his colours, nor be of his Company. But I was asleep when I made this protestation, and knew not what I said. My sleepiness was so great then at that time, that all my pain could not keep me waking.  
Which drowsiness of mine was the cause, that I could not rise so early as I thought, but kept my bed till nine of the clock that morning. At which hour comes me in this my ●…iddle-faddle of the Inn, to give me satisfaction, vowing and swearing unto me, that she lay within her Master and Mistress, and that they had shut her up, and kept the key themselves, that she could by no means get forth: Though for mine own part, I did verily believe, that she did purposely play the Wag with me, and had never any such meaning, but did lie in all that she said. Whereupon I told her; O friend Luçia, your love hath done me a great deal of hurt: it began in the Chair, and ended in the saddle. I shall look hereafter a little better to your water. Take me with that fault again, and I will give you leave to hang me. Go about your business, go, I have no more to say to you. Make haste, and bring in breakfast, for I will presently be gone. So she roasted us out of hand a brace of Partridge, served in with a slice or two of Bacon, which served both for our breakfast, and our dinner, because the day was far spent, and our journey but short.  
Well, I was now upon going, my Mules were ready, and stayed for my coming. The 
a The Spanish word, is Mo●…na. To wit, a Mule that is begotten of an Horse, and a she Ass, commonly with a black Muzzle, a sw●…ling nostril, and having ●…sh trick●….  Mule that I road on, was an ill-conditioned jade, and somewhat skittish. When I was ready to put foot in the stirrup, I got me up upon a bench, thinking from thence to get with the greater ease into my Saddle; but by her going back, she seemed to tell me, that I should not do it so easily as I thought; or else her meaning was, that I should quickly get me thence, or else she would set me going with a witness. And because she could not speak my language, that she might make me understand her by signs, jerking out her hinder legs, she flings me out her heels, and doubling her files, with two kicks, that she made at me, she threw me a good ways from her: But she did me no harm, for I recovered myself by and by, and got up upon my legs. After this, I was a little more wary, and took better heed. And with a-loud voice I began to cry out: There is not any female (I think) in this Inn, even to the very Mules, which hath not her jadish tricks.  
Well, I was seated in my Saddle, and my Mule was quiet, and being upon the way, (seeing what misfortunes I had suffered) I acquainted my servants what had happened unto me, with the Ass that came into my Chamber. They laughed exceedingly, as if they would have burst their hearts, and the more, at my weak and childish understanding, that I would give credit to a Wench in an Inn, who are never good, but at their first coming, and ever after prove arrant jades, that a man can not tell how to trust to them.  
We had now gone two long Leagues, and the Boy that went afoot by us to look unto our Mules, would needs drink. I called, Bring hither the 
a The Spanish word is, Bota: Quasi imbuta, of the Latin word, imbuo, de in and Bibo. It is made of a Goats-skinne, the mouth of it being Horn, with a stopple to it, and the sules strongly sown & Rozend within, that it may n●…t leak. Your Travellers on the way never go without one, by reason the country is so hot, which causeth much thirst.  Bottle, give me the Bottle: but no Bottle appears; for we had left it behind us. Peradventure mine Hostess (said the Boy) hath seized upon it, and laid it aside in waggery, because we might ride the lighter, or be paid for her care in keeping it safe for us.  
Nay (quoth my Page) I rather believe, that they amongst them have stolen it from us, for to add more fame to this town, that they may not lose that good name they have gotten.  
Then was I very desirous to know, how this bad report came first to be raised, and whence it grew. And because they that use to carry Merchandise from place to place, and travel often on the way, and now and then hear diverse men discourse of such things as these; I thought with myself, I were best to ask the reason of it of our Footman, imagining he (if any man) could best inform us of it.  
Thereupon I called unto him, and said; Friend Andres; Since thou hast been a piece of a Scholar, a Wane-man, and now a Moço de Mulas, one that Lackey'st along with Mules, and lookest unto them, I prithee tell me (if happily thou hast heard of it) how this Town came to have this ill name, and wherefore it is commonly said as a byword, or by way of a Proverb in every man's mouth: En Malagon, cn cada c●…sa, ay un ladron: y●…n lafoy del Alcalde, hijo, y padre. Every house in Malagon hath a thief of his own: And in 
A Spanish Proverb.  that of the Alcalde, there are twain; the father, and the Son, both knaves in grain.  
The Muleteer made answer, saying, Sir, your Worship asks me of a thing, which I have been told of diverse times, and that diverse ways, every one following his own opinion: Which if I should recount them all unto you, the way too is short & the Story too long, and the desire that I have to drink, beyond them both. For I am so dry, that I am scarce able to speak a word. But be it as it may be, I will do my best to satisfy your longing. Laying that therefore aside, which hath no colour nor shadow of truth, and conforming myself according to the opinion of some, of whom I have heard it; upon whose judgement, I ground mine, as more agreeable unto reason: For in that, for which we have no natural reason, nor by tradition left unto us in writing, when time shall have buried these things, a good & a sound judgement must be the Law, which we must obey, and whereunto we ought to conform ourselves. And so this had its beginning, (which is now long since, time out of mind) in this manner, as I shall now deliver unto you.  
In the year of our Lord, 1236. King Don Fernando, sur-named the Holy, 
The story concerning the occasion of this proverb, En Malagon etc.  reigning in Castilia, and Leon, who gained seville, the second year after the death of King Don Alfonso his father, stayed one day at dinner in 
a Benavente, is a town in the Kingdom of Leon. There is a Land of that name.  Benavente, where he received news, that the Christians had entered the City of Cordova; and had made themselves Masters of the Towers and Castles belonging to the Suburbs, which they call 
b Axarquia, the suburbs adjoining to Cordova. Padre Guadix says, it is so called, because it stands towards the East which is termed in the Arab●…ck tongue, Xarquia  Axarquia, together with that gate and the wall. And for that the Moors were many, and the Christians few, they were driven to great necessities for want of succour.  
The like advice was dispatched by Post, to Don Aluar Perez de Castro, who was in 
c Martos, a famous town in Andaluzia, anciently called, Tucci, and Augusta Gemella. Covarrwias.  Martos, and to Don Ordonno Aluarez, principal Gentlemen of Castille, men of great power and strength, and to many other persons, to give them their best aid and assistance. Every one of these, that had notice of it, presently raised Forces, and hasted thither with all the speed they could; the King likewise marched forward on his way, without any delay, or protraction at all; albeit, that this news was brought unto him, on the 28. of january, and that the season was very bad, and painful to travel, by reason of the great Snows, and the extreme coldness of the weather. But nothing could hinder him from this his design, for he hasted away to their succour, leaving order that the rest of his Army should follow him, carrying no more along with him to attend his person, than a hundred Gentlemen of good quality.  
The King had likewise given order to all Cities, Towns, & other places, that were able to afford aid, to send their Soldiers to those Frontiers and Borders, whither he himself was to go: Great store of rain fell, the Rivers and other Fords, by which they were to pass, were so mightily risen, that his men were not able to go forward.  
There met together at that time in Malagon a great multitude of Soldiers sent from diverse and sundry parts, being in number so many, that though that place were very well peopled, and of great receipt, being one of the best Towns in all that quarter; yet in every house there was lodged one Soldier at the least; and in some, two, or three.  
The Alcalde did lodge one of the Captains of a Company, and a son of his, that he brought along with him, and was his 
d Alferez, is he to whom the Captain recommends his Ensign, that he may gather his Company together, & bring them all to their rendezvous. The Captain should carry the Ancient. But by reason of his diverse employments, he substitutes one in his place, whom they call Alferez, who is subordinate unto him & stirs notwithout his direction. And all that are under that Ensine are to sollow 〈◊〉 Colours. And therefore they have this variety of names, a●… Signiferos, Vexiliferos, Primipila●…ios, duces, etc. Covarrwias pag. 44.  Alferez. Their provision grew short, the ways bad, there was no coming to Market; so that for want of relief, every one suffered necessity, every one was put to his shifts, and not a man amongst them, but sought to maintain and preserve his life by filching and stealing, robbing here and there; whence, or from whom it made no matter all was one to them: Life was sweet: Let others hang and starve; so as they had wherewithal, all was well.  
A conceited Clown of that very Place, a shrewd witty fellow for a plain Husbandman, departed thence, to go to Toledo: And meeting in Orgaz with a brave troop of Gentlemen, they demanded of him, whence he was? He answered; Of Malagon. They further asked him, What's the news there? He told them; Gentlemen, all the news in Malagon, is; In every house, a thief; and in the Alcaldes, two; the son, and the father.  
And this was the true Original of that false report, which men put upon that Town, as not knowing any other certain ground, whence this brute should be raised; and is now, in these our times, a notorious wrong done unto them, as being a fault whereof they are not guilty, and yet are most unjustly charged therewith. For in all this way, that we have come and gone, or whither so ever else it shall be your hap to travel, I doubt me, you will hardly find either better entertainment (I mean for Inns) or more civil and better behaved people (taking every man according to his condition and breeding,) then are in this town. Yet, Sir, withal, I could likewise tell you, of many notable thefts, and very famous ones, that have been committed in Malagon.  
Whilst we were thus discoursing on the way to pass away the time, and make our journey seem the easier, I lighted on a Traveller, of whom I learned, That in Almagro, I should meet with a Company of Soldiers. Whereof having throughly informed myself, and well assured of their being there, I was wonderful glad of it; for this was the only thing that I did desire, and seek after for to cast off all care, and to give a farewell to all my former troubles.  
In my coming into the Town, I was no sooner entered, but I might perceive in the High-street a Banner, hanging out at a Window; I passed along by it, 
Guzman comes to Almagro.  and went to lodge at one of the Inns there in the Marketplace, where I supped betimes, and got me quickly to bed, that I might recover some of my lost sleeps, and repair the wrongs of so many ill-passed nights, as I had lately endured.  
Mine Host, and those his Guests that he had in the house, seeing me come in so well accommodated, and so well waited on, made inquiry of my servants, who I was. And they, (as not knowing any thing, but what they heard from myself) told them; That my name was Don juan de Guzman: 
Guzman takes on him a feigned name.  Son to a principal Gentleman of the house of Toral. On the morning very early, my Page brought me my clothes; I put them on, setting myself forth in all my bravest gallantry, and after that I had been abroad and heard Mass, I went to visit the Captain, telling him, that I was come in search of him, to tender my service unto him. He received me with a great deal of courtesy, and with a cheerful look; which was no more than my respect unto him might challenge; besides, the good fashion, that I came to him in, and the moneys, which I brought along with me in my purse, (which were little less than a thousand Royals) might merit some respect, for the rest of the birds were flown, and like Noah's Crow, were never to 
Guzman entertained by the Captain for a Soldier, and in what he did exercise himself.  return again; they were spent and gone in gay clothes, in courting of Wenches, and in good-fellowship upon the way. He admitted me into his own Squadron, made me sit and ear with him at his own Table, using me evermore with much love and kindness.  
In requital whereof, I began to 
a Regalar: Is to afford a man all the delights and dainties that are to be had for love, or money. The word is derived à Rege: That is, so much that a King can not desire more. Guzman posseth not for a Soldier, as being under age.  Regalar him, and to serve him; presenting him still with one thing or other, enlarging my hand like a Prince, as if I had for every 
* A Spanish Proverb.  Tuesday a new pair of ears; or were sure to meet (wheresoever I came) with another Grocer, another River, and another Grove of Trees, wherein to hide myself. So fast did I spend my money without fear or wit, threw it away with so prodigal a hand, taking ames-Ace against seven, and deux-Ace, against eleven; I did so often visit the Drum-head, that at last, getting little, and losing much, I was almost quite blown up.  
In these kind of intertainments did I consume myself, and my time, till we were to march away: And for to fill up the Company, we were all of us put into a Church, whence we came forth one by one, and when they came to call me, the Paymaster looked upon me, in whose eye I seemed somewhat too young, insomuch that he durst not enrol me amongst the rest, according to the instructions that were given him. Whereat I grew exceeding angry, and was so inflamed with choler, that I had much ado to contain myself, but was ready to break forth into passion, and to have lashed out into some liberty of language, whereof afterwards I might have repent myself; because it might have forced me to utter that, which would not have well beseemed me, nor indeed had been lawful for me to vent, considering the time, and place.  
O what good clothes can do! I knew the time, when men would kick 
Good clothes put a man i●… heart.  me, and cuff me about the cares, and could be content to hang my head in my bosom, hold my peace, and take all patiently. But now I made reckoning, as if all heaven had laid at the stake, of that which to speak of, was not worth a straw, waxing mad with anger. Then I began to know by 
Anger, and it's evil effects  mine own experience that no Wine can make a man so drunk, as the first fit of anger. And it much more blindeth the understanding, not leaving it any the least light of reason. And if that heat should not presently pass away, I know not what fierceness or brutishness may be compared to this fury of ours. I did quickly quench this flame, and my Hat being come again to his colour, and my choler pacified, I said unto him, Sir, you that are Paymaster, my years (I confess) are few, but my courage as great as any man's. It is the heart that commands, and this arm knows how to brandish a blade, there is blood and marrow enough in it, for to undertake great matters.  
He answered me very gravely and wisely, It may be so, Sir, and I do verily believe it, and with much more willingness, than yourself can speak it: but the Order that I have given me in charge is thus and thus, wherein if I should exceed my Commission, my Purse must sound pay for it. No body shall smart for it, but myself. I knew not what to reply to so fair an Answer, though the blood that boiled in my breast, and the colour that showed itself in my cheeks, could not so easily be alaid, till my choler were a little better settled. My captain was very sensible of this affront of mine, and took it as tenderly as if the case had been his own.  
For being quitted of my place, he was persuaded I should then presently forsake his Company. And taking part with me against the Paymaster, he was somewhat round with him, insomuch, that neither of them having the patience to bear one with another, they grew to high words, and much ado there was.  
This storm was laid the Sea had done roaring, their strife was ended, and the Company was fully made up. The Captain came to visit me at my lodging; telling me in brave and gallant terms, how much this grief of mine did t●…ouble him, and how sorry he was for my heaviness; and with honourable both words and promises, he gave me that good satisfaction, that I rested very well contented. Such force hath Eloquence, that as horses suffer 
Eloquence prevaileth much.  themselves to be ruled with good Bridles and bits; so the fierce rage, and choleric humours of men, are bridled and governed by mannerly reasons, and are brought to wind and turn their headstrong wills, changing their violent resolutions, being easily reduced in the end to a settled pace, and are well content to go forward fair and softly on their way.  
Whereupon, albeit I was resolved to leave him, yet notwithstanding his words were so powerful with me, that he stopped me in my course, and suddenly took me up, when I was in the heat and height of my Career. We continued in this kind of conversation a prètie while, and a great deal of good talk we had together; And if it be not dangerous to speak the truth, (for fear of being called in question) we did murmur and mutiny at the small reckoning, and slight acknowledgement of Soldiers, and men of true 
A dipressum against bad Mini●…s, touching Martial men.  worth and valour, and the base esteem that was made of military discipline and profession of Arms; then did we rail at the slight remuneration of Services, and with how little truth some Ministers did inform the State thereof, for their own proper ends: How things are quite out of order, and utterly miscarry, because businesses are not well carried, & are not in a course, that should direct them to a good end, every man tending his particular profit, preferring private, before public good.  
And though such a one know, that another man, with a very good zeal and love to his Country, doth govern his Army well, and lead them on bravely, he wrists all h●…s good services to the worst sense, and seeks to overthrow his well-deserued reputation, laying Nets to entrap him, that he may be the only Commander, joining with his enemies, and falling cross with his friends, that he may bring the dance before his own door, and raise himself by the others ruin, proposing to himself, by this preposterous dealing, to put himself into a better fortune.  
And to effect this his unruly desire, he will seek out a thousand fetches, and as many winding Pipes will he lay before hand, to bring the water to his own Conduct. He would make himself like unto the highest, and place his throne in the North, and suffer no man to sit by him, or to be his equal. Such men as these exercise their voice only in the service of the King, not sticking to cry out, This and this will make much for his Majesty's service; but their works, and their actions, are directed to their own good. Like unto that day-labourer, who lifts up his arms to heaven, but strikes his Mattocke into the ground. These make wars at their pleasure, break Leagues when they list, failing in their Obligation, ruining the Commonwealth, robbing men of their Estates, and in the end damning their own souls.  
How many errors have been committed? How many brave Commanders lost? how many Armies utterly overthrown? the fault whereof is laid upon him, that doth least deserve the blame. And the sole cause of this is, because these men will forsooth have it so, that this ill shall make for their good. For if things should succeed well, why then it should go ill with them.  
This is the common course now adays, and this makes 
a The Spanish phrase is, Se pone de lodo. Now Poner lo de lodo, e●…, estragar, O errar el negoçio.  all out of joint, and causes such confusion in the world. Will you see (Sir) to what poor pass our ill fortune hath brought us, that those brave clothes, gallant Feathers, and glorious colours; things that put life and spirit into a Soldiers heart, to make him venture courageously upon all difficulties, to hew out his way with his Sword, and to undertake any brave and noble enterprise, in seeing us thus adorned, we are disgraced in Spain, our Habit scorned, and ourselves flouted at? Thinking for sooth that we must walk the streets in black, like a company of Solicitors, or like some Servitor, or poor Scholar, that waits upon another, and hath not a Gown to his back to hide his pitiful rags, or to cover our tottered clothes, (as your Students use to do) with black foot-cloths, that the old rotten Saddle underneath may not be seen.  
Now are we quite down the wind, and never so much as now; For those that should most honour us, do least favour us. The only bare name of a Spaniard, which heretofore did affright the enemy, & with the reputation of that one word, made the whole world to tremble; now (for our sinnes-sake) the glory of that is in a manner lost and gone. And we are so fall'n off from what we were, that we are not able to do that now with our swords, which before we might have carried with our words. Yet such as we have been, we are, and shall be still. It is God, that must make us to acknowledge these our errors, and that must work amendment in those that are the cause thereof; going (in that course wherein now they run) against their King, against the Laws of the Land, against their Country, and against themselves.  
I need not (Sennor Don juan) to produce any other witness, than the present times, for the truth of what I have spoken, and to prove unto you, that the main cause of all your great mischiefs in a State, is a Favourites inwardness with his King, suffering no man to Privar, or to be able to do any thing but himself, led on with the greediness of his own private gain. From this his ill-imployd Greatness, groweth hatred; from hatred, envy; from envy, dissension; and from dissension, evil order: from whence you may infer those other inconveniences, that may follow thereupon. Let it not trouble you, Sir, that we are now to march hence. In Italy, you shall find another kind of world; and here I pass my word unto you, that I will make you an Ancient. Which albeit, it be a meaner place, than your merits may challenge, yet it may serve as a step to advance you higher. I gave him many thanks for this his friendly offer. We took our leaves, he was very desirous to go home alone, I earnestly entreated him, that I might wait upon him to his Lodging but he would by no means consent thereunto. The next day following the Company marched away without any stay, till they came near unto the Sea-coast; (the Captain spending liberally upon my Purse.) We stayed waiting there for the coming of the Galleys, but three months were almost spent before we could have any news of them. In which time, and that which was already past, my Purse had spit his venom, and my rents began to fail me. My continuance at play, did likewise put a helping hand to my speedier dispatch; so that I was now quite out of Cash, and all my money was gone; not all in one day, but all, at all these several times. I was (as your old prattling Gossips use to say) reduced back again to my former state, and might walk (as I did before) with a white Cudgel under mine arm. How much did I then risent my former follies? How angry was I 
Guzman's money is all ge●…, and now begins to lamentins' folly. Good Instructions for young men.  grown with myself? What amendment did I propose unto myself, now that I had not so much as one single penny left me in my Purse? How many shifts did I use to conserve myself, when I did not know against what tree to lean? Who forced me to fall in love without discretion? Who made me turn Gallant, without moderation? Who taught me to spend without government? To what end was I so free in my play, so frank in my Lodging? and so prodigal with my Captain? Quanto se halla trasero, quien ensilla muy delantero? 
Spanish Proverb.  How often is he cast behind, that is first in the Saddle? What a shame is it for a man to follow his delights? What a baseness, to be captivated by his pleasures? I was ready to run besides myself, and was almost out of my little wits, that when I had put myself in so good a Predicament, I could not hold me there, and keep myself well, while it was well with me.  
Now, in regard as well of my youth, as these my youthful vanities, I was no more esteemed, or respected of any. The friends that I had in my prosperity, the free table that I kept with the Captain, the Alferez place, and the ensign, that he told me he would bestow upon me, it seemed, that they were all strooken with a sudden lightning, which had burnt and consumed them. They past as an arrow, that makes his quick-feathered-flight thorough the air; like a Thunderbolt, that strikes to death, before it be discerned; or to the twinkling of the eye, which opens and shuts in an instant.  
When my monies fell short, all fell-away from me: as long as I had that, I had them; That gone, they shook hands with me, and bid me farewell. Thus by little and little, piece after piece, all my ornaments were taken off, and poor Don juan de Guzman was degraded. I was like that Obispillo de San 
Proverb.  Nicholas, that pretty little Bishop St. Nicholas, respected only for his Holiday; and so I, while I had money in my Purse, and no longer.  
Those that heretofore did me honour, did visit me, did entertain me, came to feast and banquet with me, the heartstrings of my Purse being broken, they forsook me, as being no man of this world; Not a man that would talk with me, or conderse with me. And not only so, but they would not so much as vouchsafe to look upon me, or once suffer me to come in their company. The perfume that did once smell sweet, doth now stink in their noses. They that knew not before how to be unkind, do now take all things in snuff. And I that honoured them, am requited by them with dishonour, and all because I am become poor. And as if poverty had been a great and heinous offence, I was consigned over to the Secular power. My dealing and conversation was wholly now with the straggling Boys about the Camp, such as carried Wallets and Knapsacks for the Soldiers, and on this had I now set up my rest. And it is good justice, Que quien tall haze, que assi ●…o 
Proverb.  pague. As a man Brews, so let him bake.   

CHAPTER X.  
Guzman de Alfarache declareth the misfortunes, and the wants of one that is decayed in his fortunes: And how he followed a Captain, till he came into Italy; Exercising himself in all kind of thefts great and small; for the relief and help of his Master.  
HOw bitter was it unto me to begin; how troublesome to go on; how grievous to endure this new dis-aduenture? 
Misfortunes, are burdens that are hard to be borne.  But I had been well acquainted heretofore with these kind of misfortunes, and had learned them long since to my great cost. And because these things were not new unto me, I presently fell to my work, and lively bestirred myself about my business. And I can assure you, it is a great happiness for a man to suit himself to all occasions, and to know how to turn his hand to all kind of labour, not relying on these transitory goods of the world, which like Buckets in a Well, are now full, and then empty; and no sooner up, but they are down again.  
But this one thing was my chief comfort, That in the time of my Prosperity, I gained credit against the day of Adversity. And I did not count it my least riches, seeing I was to become poor, that I had left a stamp & impression in all men's minds, that I was of a noble and free disposition, by those my former actions, which were able to speak themselves, though myself should be silent.  
My Captain made some reckoning of me acknowledging the courtesies, that I had used towards him, & was more willing, then able to help me. For (poor man) he had scarce enough to serve his own turn. But he conserved me at least in that buen punto and good esteem, which he had at his first knowledge of me, anon after that we were acquainted, bearing a kind of respect to the house whereof I came, and to those my supposed Parents.  
I was enforced to strip myself; and laying aside all my gallantry, I began to clothe myself again in a meaner and poorer fashion, and to put on that rich (though un-regarded) Robe of Humility, which I did not think on in my bravery, and scorned (as a thing of nought) when I was flush, and full of money:  
Considering with myself that Vanity and Necessity could not well suit together. And that one Chair was not able to hold them both. For the rich man, if he brave it, he is to be borne withal, for he hath wherewithal. But that a poor man should be so vain, is to be but like the Chameleon; who, whatsoever he draws and sucks into him, is but air, without substance. And 
The rich man that is vain, and the poor man that is proud, both condemned. Guzman sets himself to serve 〈◊〉 Captain.  therefore, as the rich man that is vain, aught to be abhorred; So the poor man that is proud, is not to be endured: It is insupportable in the one, and scandalous in the other.  
I saw, that I was not able to live of myself, and therefore got to serve my Captain, making him now my Master, who but a little before was my Companion. And I waited on him with that care, as I did on the Cook. Howbeit, he commanded me with a kind of respect, as considering who I was and that my excesses, my childishness, and ill-governed Youth, had brought me to this low ebb, that I was driven to serve him. And he did thus far assure himself of me, that I would not do any thing unworthy a Gentleman, and un-beseeming my birth and Parentage for any interest in the world. 
What a man should do, that would rise by his service.   
He held me to be as faithful, and as secret, as I was patient. He made me Treasurer of all his secrets; for which affiance I always showed myself thankful unto him. He manifested his necessities, and made known his wants unto me, and what he had spent in his pretensions; besides, the prolix time, and the excessive travel and pains, whereby he at last obtained them; as by entreating, bribing, flattering, serving, attending, crouching, creeping, making of legs, bowing the head to the ground, with cap in hand, and a quick and nimble pace, trotting up and down the streets from morning to night; early, and late, without intermission.  
I remember he told me, That going out of the Palace with the King's Favourite, 
A trick of a proud Courtier.  because he put on his Hat, whilst he was entering into his Coach, he looked upon him, as if he would have eaten him; and shortly after, gave him to understand as much, by delaying his dispatch, making him dance attendance at Court many a fair day, till he thought he had sufficiently punished both his Purse, & his Patience. It shall ever be in my Litany, Good Lord deliver us, when Power and Malice meet.  
It is a miserable thing, and much to be pitied, that such an Idol as one of these, should affect particular adoration; not considering, that he is but a man, a representant, a poor kind of Comedian, that acts his part upon the Stage of this World, and comes forth with this or that Office, thus and thus attended, or at least resembling such a person, and that when the play is done, (which can not be long) he must presently enter into the Tiring-house of the grave, and be turned to dust and ashes, as one of the sons of the Earth, which is the common Mother of us all.  
Behold (brother) and see the Interlude of our life is ended; our disguizes laid aside; and thou art as I; I, as thou; and all of us as one another. Some do so strut and stretch out their bodies, and are swollen so big with the puffing wind of pride, as if they were able to swallow the whole Sea into their belly. They sport, and play, and follow their pleasures, as if their abode on earth, were to be eternal. They set themselves aloft, and in-throane themselves on high, as if they would get them out of Death's reach, and that it should not be in his power to tumble them down. Blessed be God, that there is a God. And blessed be his mercy, that he hath provided one equal day of justice for us all.  
I did much grieve at my Captain's poverty, because I did not know how to remedy it. And by how much the more is the want and necessity of 
Want in a great person, is a thing that moveth much compassion.  him that is Noble, by so much the more doth the poor man pity it, than the rich. He had some jewels left, which he might sell, if need were, but those were things to do him honour; and being that he was upon his departure, ready to embark himself, where he should have occasion to use them, it went against the very heart of him, to mar much, to mend a little.  
Now, while these Galleys were so slow in coming, we were fain in the mean while to go from one town to another, to quarter ourselves with the best conveniency we could. By that confession, which my Master had made unto me, I understood his mind, and the end wherefore he did it.  
I told him, Sir, I know by good experience, both good and bad fortune; prosperity, and adversity, and wot well what they are.  
In my younger years I have traveled far and near, and have seen somewhat of the world. I shall to the uttermost of my power express that loyalty & faithfulness which I owe unto my Master, and to the Stock whereof I come.  
Take you, Sir, no care, assuring yourself, that I will hazard my life in your service, and will so order the business (till better times shall befriend us) that for the present, you shall pass over the trouble you now are in, with a great deal more ease. Thus did I take a task upon me, that was far greater than my strength or wit could promise.  
From that time forward, I did in this Office that I had undertaken, perform things of admiration, and such as were beyond belief.  
In every place, where we were to lodge our Soldiers, I had gotten a dozen 
a The Span●…sh word, is Bol●…ta. i. Scedula, quae ●…abatur 〈◊〉 in belio, v●… proper●…nt ad hospitium. Dicitur autem Buleta, quasi Bula peque●…na; à 〈◊〉 Bulet●… Et ●…rat Scriptura brevis mandato●…a, qualis est bulla 〈◊〉. ●…uzmans cunning, wh●… he served the Captain.  Billets, whereof the least afforded no less than twelve Royals, and some did contribute fifty. My entrance was free into all those houses, where nothing was safe from my hands, no not so much as the water that was in their Wels.  
I never suffered my Master to be without a Hen, a Chicken, a Capon, or a Pigeon, both at dinner and supper, and a whole Gammon of Bacon every Sunday boiled in Wine. Never did I reserve any thing for myself of all these booties that I made. But look whatsoever I got, I put it all into his hands.  
If by chance the Master of the house should take me napping, if it were of small value, it was passed over as a thing of nothing, and accounted only a waggish trick; but if it were of any moment, my punishment was, to be brought by my Master before him that had complained of me, and causing my hands to be bound, with the thin sole of a shoe he would give me my payment; which being of a hollow kind of grain, it sounded loud, but did smart but little; the noise was more than the pain. Sometimes I should have the luck to get me Sureties, that should pass their word for me, that I should not do so any more, and then I was pardoned. But though they should chance to fail me, the chastisement was not rigorous, it did not raise any Wheal●…s or Blisters, nor left any mark of the stripes upon my body. And because I knew, they were given me more for fashion sake, than any ill will; and rather to satisfy others, then to hurt me, before ever the blow came near me, I would cry out, as if I had been ki●…; and set out such a throat, as if I would haverent the very walls of the house asunder.  
Thus did my Master and I give good satisfaction; he▪ by complying with his obligation; and I by supplying of his necessities: By killing first his hunger, and afterwards by g●…uing life to his Honour.  
I would so●…times get me out into the Highways, and seize upon all so●…ts of 〈◊〉; then would I seem to show them the favour of the School, in s●…lling them their own again; indearing to the owners of them, that it cost me thus and thus much out of mine own purse, to get these their goods to be returned unto them, so that I had both money, and thanks for my pains.  
Those commodities which we lighted on in the Villages where we lay, those that were able, might chance to see them again, and redeem them for their money; but those that had not wherewithal, their goods were invisible, not a rag to be seen●…; they that had taken them from them, were 〈◊〉 and gone, and no more news to be heard of them. At the Musters, when the Muster-master was to see if the Company were full, I would thrust in amongst the Soldiers five or six young fellows of the Town, well appointed, and made them to pass. Sometimes I would so handle the matter, that putting one single man into the Church, up above in the Charnel house that is made for dead men's bones, five times one after another, I received five paye●… And for him, that was to come last, I would clap a plaster upon his nose, that he might not be known. And every several time, I did change his clothes, because my knavery should not be found out, and my trick discovered.  
With these Jigs, & other the like gulleries, mine own person was as good as four men's pays. My Master lou●…d me as his life for these good services that I did him, but he was a great spender; and therefore both this, and all besides that I coul●… do for him, was all too little.  
When we were come to 
b The chi●…e C●… in Catalu●…na, founded 230. y●…res before the 〈◊〉 of C●…st. It was first called Barzino; of a great ●…age that builded 〈◊〉, ●…f w●… descended the great A●…lcar. I resently upon that, 〈◊〉. And now Barçelona. The ●…omanes afterwards called it Faventia: But came in time to recover its old name. Vid. A●…r. Hort. V●…rb. Barcino. & Ant. Augustin. Dialogo. 70. de nummis antiquis. Guzman comes to Barçelona.  Barç●…lona, and ready to embark ourselves in the Galleys, I found my Master much troubled, as being in a great strait, for that he had received no pay from the King, and how to procure monies, he knew no way in the world; nor could mine that I brought him in, stea●… him to any purpose. I saw he was melancholy, sad, and heavy; I knew straight what disease he was sick of, as being the Physician, that had often cured him thereof heretofore. I offered him to apply a sudden remedy for this sore. He had with him diverse jewels, I knew not well what myself, and amongst the rest an 
a Agnus Dei, Is Christ our Red●…emer called a Lamb; not proprietate, sed similitudine. As in many places, he is called a Vine, a Rock, a Door, a Shepherd, a Lion, etc. ●…t in regard of his meekness, unspottedness, chastity, innocence and obedience; as also, for that he was sacrificed up to his heavenly Father, for the sins of mankind, with a great deal of propriety, he is called the Lamb. And the Roman Church, in the Sacrifice of the Mass, before the holy Communion was instituted, did say or sing this Prayer: Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, etc. And john Baptist did sign it with this name. Ecce Agnus Dei, etc. Agnus Dei, is likewise a holy re●…cke, which the Pope blesses, and consecrates the first year of his Papacy, and so afterwards from seven years to s●… years. It belonget●… to the Sexton and the Chaplain to order and dispose the Wax, where-into they put Los cirios Pascuales the year before. And with great curiosity, neatness, and reverence, and in different moulds, they take forth these Agnos, of different bigness, and diverse Figures; both on the one and the other side, they have the Lamb, whence this re●…cke takes 〈◊〉 name. And being presented to his Holiness, he blesses them in the Chapel, and consecrates them with great Ceremony, 〈◊〉 them into Vessels of Holywater, which he hath blessed, pouring upon them Balm, and the Crisme, or holy Oil, saying many Prayers over them. It is said, that Pope V●…ban the fifth; sent an Agnus Dei to the Emperor of Greece, with certain 〈◊〉 Verses, wherein he declareth the excellency of this holy Relic; as that, it is good against tempest, Fire, Lightning, Thunder, and Pestilence; and against the assaults of the Devil, and therefore aught to ●…ee had in great reverence; Vide Couar●…as. Verb. Agnus Dei:  Agnus Dei of gold, a very rich one: it grieved him to part with it. But I told him; Sir, if you dare to trust me, put this Agnus Dei into my hands, and I will promise you to return it again unto you within these two days much improved, and make it better worth unto you, than now it is. He was glad to hear me say so; and jestingly said unto me; What trick have you now in store Guzmanillo? Hast thou lighted peradventure (as thou wast wont) upon some new roguish plot, some feat villainy or other, and canst come finely off with it? Now because he knew, that he might trust his profit, with my sufficiency; his honour, with my secrecy; and that his jewel was sure enough, without farther questioning me, what I would do with it; he gave it me, telling me withal, God grant thou bring it me safe back again, and that thy wishes may take good success.  
Lo, there it is, take it, and do what thou wilt with it. I took it of him, put it in my bosom, leapt it up safe in a little Purse, knit it fast, and tied it sure to one of the button-holes of my Doublet. With it I went directly to a 
* A fine trick, put by Guzman upon a Goldsmith in Barçelona, that was a great 〈◊〉.  Goldsmith's shop; One that was a richman, and a great Usurer; I made a large relation unto him of my person, and how and by what means I came to this Company, and what a deal of money I had spent in a short time, reserving (when I should see myself in some need) a very rich jewel, for the supplying of my wants: And that if he would buy it of me, he should have it reasonable cheap, so as he did not offer me too little, and too much underualew the worth of it. But withal, I advised him, that he should first inform himself of my person, and my quality, who and whence I was; and in knowing of it, (without rendering any reason why he was so inquisitive, taking that for a sufficient satisfaction to himself) he should walk forth and meet me at the Seaside, for there I would stay for him, and there he should find me all alone, wishing him to make as much haste as he could.  
This man, who had a great mind to this Piece, and was greedy of gain, informed himself of me from the Captain, the Officers, and some other of t●…e Soldiers; receiving so much satisfaction, as was sufficient to content him. For they did all of them witness one and the same thing; That I was the son of a principal Cavallero, rich, and nobly descended, and that being desirous to see Italy, I came to their Company with a couple of servants attending on me, well clad, and with good store of Crowns in my Purse; that I had spent it all (as young men use to do) which was the cause, that I was now in that poor case, as himself might well see.  
All this made as well for me, as myself could wish it; it fell out pat, as I would have it. My honest Usurer told me what they said, that he was very well satisfied therewith, and that he might safely deal with me for any thing that I should sell him. He desired my jewel of me, that he might look upon it, and that he would give me as much for it, as it was worth. I told him, that we would go aside by ourselves into some secret place, and there he should have a sight of it.  
We went a pretty ways off, and when I had found out a fit place to my mind, I put my hand in my bosom, and took out my Agnus Dei, of whose price I was well informed, as one that knew what it cost. The Goldsmith liked it well, and had a great desire to buy it. For, besides that the gold-worke was very well wrought and curiously enamelled, it had diverse stones in it of great value. I demanded of him for it two hundred Crowns, which was little less than the price that was paid for it, when it was first bought. He began to turn and wind it this way and that way, holding it one while upward, another downward, to see which way it showed itself best, and gave the brightest lustre.  
He found a hundred faults in it (only to bring down the price) offering me a thousand Royals at the first word. I was resolved, that he should not have it under a hundred and fifty Crowns, and it was as well worth that, as one Royal; and under that I would not part with it. And here upon the By, let this serve by way of advice to him that is to sell, that he must never descend so low as the price for which he means to sell it, but that he should drive his bargain so, that the buyer may rise to his price; looking still, when he shall come higher and higher, and so by standing off, get as much for it as you can. We give and take; I offer, and he bids; At last, my cunning Merchant comes up to a hundred and twenty Crowns; I thought with myself I should never draw him higher, and that it was enough (if not too much) for that which I pretended; and for so much I sold it him. He was loath to leave me, till he had paid me; and would fain have had me to have gone with him: but I told him, Honest sir, God bless your life, and send you well to do; if I should go hence alone with you, I am afraid, le●…t that money would be taken from me, which I purpose to keep till I come to Italy, to furnish me with clothes, that I may come in some good fashion, when I make myself known there to my Kinsmen, and friends.  
And if some Soldier or other should hap to see me go with you, they would presently suspect, that it is rather to sell, then buy any thing of you. And if they shall perceive, that I have any store of Copper or silver money about me (being but a Boy as I am) they will take it from me, and I shall have no remedy against them. And therefore God be your good speed, go your ways, I will stay for you here till you come, bring your gold with you, so many Crowns, as we have agreed ●…pon, and you shall have the ●…ewell away with you, and God send you as good luck with it, as I shall wish you.  
He well approved my reason, and hasted home (like a young Colt in his full gallop) for to fetch them. I had given notice to a Companion of mine, (a confident servant of my Masters) that he should stay there waiting for me; And that when I had given him such a sign▪ he should as secretly as he could haste in unto me. He lay close in ambush; The Goldsmith by this time is come, he counts me out my Crowns in the Palm of my hand: I had the jewel in my purse, I sought to untie it: but because the knots were knit so fast, I could not so easily do it. My Usuring Merchant had hanging at his girdle a pair of knives in an old greasy sheathe; I desired him, that he would lend me one of them. He (not knowing why I borrowed it) pulls me out his knife, and gives it me. I cut the string asunder, leaving the knot fast knit to my Doublet, as it was before, and I gave it into his hand together with the Agnus Dei. The man began to marvel; and as●…t me why I did so, and wherefore I had put it there? I told him, that because I had never a Box, nor no Paper to lap it up in, I had done as I did, and that the matter was not great, for the Purse was old and little worth, and I had no great need of it: and as for those Crowns that I had of him, I should make a shift to ●…ew them up in some one rag or other about my clothes, where no body should come at them.  
He took the jewel of me, just in the same manner as I had given it him, and after that he had put it in his bosom, we took our leave, and he went his way. I gave the sign to my Companion: he comes; I give him the Crowns, and advised him, that he should high him home with them, and give them to my Master, and tell him, that I would be with him by and by.  
That done, I made after my Goldsmith, and though by reason of his large strides, he had the advantage of me, and got ground upon me, yet I ran after him, till the occasion I expected, did fairly offer itself unto me. And so watching my time, when he was jump even with a Company of Soldiers, that were standing together, I took fast hold of him with both my hands, crying out, A thief, a thief, help, honest Soldiers, for God's sake come in and help me, for this Rogue hath robbed me, hold him fast if you love me, let him not go, take (and you be good men) o take, take quickly the jewel from him, for my Master will kill me, if I come home without it, and this Villain hath violently taken it from me.  
I was well known to all the Soldiers, and as soon as they heard me, and saw the pitiful moan that I made, they believed I said truth. Hereupon they laid hold on the man, to know what the matter was. And because he that complains first, the justice commonly goes on his side; and that whining and crying out of wrongs received, many times overcome the right, more by clamour, than any good claim that they can make; I cried out more and more, and kept such a stir and such a noise, that I would not suffer him to speak, and if he did, than I was so loud again and so clamorous, that they could not hear him; putting this trick 
a The Spanish phrase, is haziendole el juego Manna. That is, when one goes deferring the conclusion of a business, because he knows it will go against him, for that his cause is not good. Covarrwias. Verb. Manna.  upon him in the playing of my game. I did implore their help with great exclamations, with my hands linked one within another, and lifted up to heaven, and with my knees, creeping and crawling on the ground, crying out unto them; As ye be Gentlemen, good my Masters, take pity and compassion of me; for the Captain my Master will surely kill me. This tribulation of mine did much trouble them, it did grieve them to see me in this pitiful plight.  
At last, they began to ask me what the matter was? and how, and wherein I had been wronged? Nor was I herein wanting to play my part; now I had the hand of him, I would be sure to hold it; gracing my lie with all the credit I could, that I might leave the less room for his truth to enter. For, man's Hearing, contracting Matrimony on the sudden, upon the first word that is given, will hardly be divorced from it, but let it alone, and live and stick thereunto during life, be it for better or worse. So that all the rest that come after, are but as Concubines, that come now and then to the Hearing, but have no settled abode there: They may perhaps, like gadding Girls, touch at this ear, and that ear, and the tother, (as at so many doors, or other folk's houses,) but there is no dwelling for them, they must pack and be gone.  
Having this string to my bow, (setting a good face on the matter) I up, and told them; This morning, my Master left his Agnus Dei at his beds-head upon his pillow; he willed me to keep it, and to look safe unto it; I took it, and first put it in my Purse, and then in my bosom, (thinking I had made all sure enough) but meeting with this good man (you here see) by the Seaside, I pulled it forth to show it him; And because he was a Goldsmith, I asked him, what it might be worth? He told me, that the body of the jewel was but Coppe●… double-gilt, and that the Stones were counterfeit, no better than Glass. Yet asked me withal, whether I would sell it? I told him no; it was my Masters. He demanded then of me, if my Master would sell it? My answer was; Sir, I know not: you were best ask him, for he can best tell you. After this, he proceeded farther in talk with me, ask me, who I was, whence I came, and whither I would; And so held me on in such idle discourse, till we were both alone, but of sight of any; and drawing a knife out of that sheath of his that hangs there at his girdle, he willed me to make no words, for if I did but offer to squeak, though ne'er so little, or but wag a foot from that place, there was no way but one with me, he would presently cut my throat. I stood shaking and quivering, while he was taking the jewel out of my bosom, and because he could not readily untie the knots, I had knit them so fast, he made no more ado, but cut the string asunder, and so went away with it. And I think he hath it still about him; search him, I beseech you (good honest Soldiers) for God's sake search him.  
The Soldiers seeing that the purse was cut indeed, turned towards my Goldsmith, and looked somewhat strangely upon him, who was struck therewith so dead, that he had not a word to say for himself. They took the Agnus Dei out of his bosom, which he had carried away in the purse; as I had before informed them, so did they just find it about him.  
Then did he begin to fall a cursing & swearing, vowing by no small oaths, that I had sold it unto him, and that I with mine own hand, with that very knife, cut the purse myself, and afterwards delivered it unto him, and that I had of him for it a hundred and fifty Crowns in very good gold. But for all his swearing and staring, they would never a whit the sooner believe him; Thinking in good discretion, that it was not likely, that he would venture to buy any such piece of me, for he might very well think that it was stolen Ware. Besides (which made much for me) they had searched me all over, from top to toe, but could not find one penny of money about me.  
Making this to serve as a strong proof against him, they used him very homely, both in words and deeds. And whatsoever he said unto them to justify himself, it was all one, he had been as good to have held his tongue, for after that, they would neither believe, nor hear him. They had forcibly taken the jewel from him; He complains thereof unto the justice; I was brought before him; There I opened the case anew, (as before you have heard) not failing so much as one syllable in the relating of that, which I had formerly delivered.  
The Witnesses were sworn, and justified what they had both seen and heard. And in the end, the business was brought so about, that it was concluded, the Goldsmith should be severely punished. But upon entreaty, he had a brotherly correction, and so sent packing. And as for me, I had my jewel given me in open Court, with charge to carry it home to my Master. I went with it to his lodging, and there in the presence of all his people, I delivered it unto him.  
There are many that love treason; but few that like the Traitor. Well 
Amo proditiorem, proditorem odi.  may an ill man, by working ill, please that ill man that sets him a-work, for the working of his ends. But when the deed is done, it can not be, but that in the breast of that man, there is so much mischief imprinted, and such known Characters of Villainy written in the forehead of him, that none of those that employ him, will trust him, either any farther or longer, than they have use of him to bring their purposes to pass. What I had done did nothing displease my Master. At that time he liked it well, yet it troubled him somewhat, and he could not well tell what to think of it. These tricks of mine did him good service, (and that he knew well enough) but he was afraid both of them, and me.  
With these kind of Cordials, I kept my Master in heart, till he came to Genoa; where, (having dis-imbarkt) and having now but little need of my service, he shifted me off. Your Traitors, and other such like wicked Villains, are like unto Vipers, or your Scorpions; which when you have taken the substance of that from them, which you seek for, you take them, and throw them upon the dunghill. Only they are nourished by all sorts of men (especially your Great-ones) who make exceeding much of them, all the while they use them as instruments of their pretended ends; but those once effected, they bid you fare well, they will have no more to do with you, unless it be to undo you, as you have others; and so let you go, for such a one as you are; caring rather to use, then to keep a Knave.  
Some few days after our arrival, my Master called me aside, and said unto me; Youth, you are now in Italy, your service will be of little use to me; and your Rogueries may do me much wrong: here is somewhat for you to help you on your journey, dispatch quickly, and be gone, for you have free liberty to go whither you will. He gave me some moneys of small value, and some few Spanish Royals; all was a matter of nothing, scarce worth God a mercy; and with this poor pittance, I took my leave of him and left him. I walked along with my head in my bosom, musing in the street as I went, on the great force of Virtue, which did never leave any man un-rewarded; whereas Vice did never suffer any man to escape without punishment, and shame.  
I would fain have spoken then unto my Master, and have told him, that he might be pleased to remember, that I had relieved him in his wants, supplied his necessities, taken a great deal of pains in his service, to my great cost and hindrance. But I thought with myself, that he would twit me in the teeth with those things, and lay them to my charge, and that therefore he was the willinger to rid himself of me, as of a rotten member, good for nothing, but to infect all the rest. And so I rested from that. Now seeing in what disgrace I was, and hoping to find out my kindred there, I made the less reckoning of it. So I went daily up and down the City, seeking by that means to learn the language, which as yet I neither understood, nor knew, out of the desire that I had to know, and to be known.    

THE ROGVE, OR, THE FIRST PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE. The third Book.  
Wherein, he treateth of his beggarly course of life, and what therein happened unto him, whilst he was in Italy.  

CHAP. I.  
Guzman discourseth of Poverty, and of the wrongs and outrages, which a poor man endureth; As also of Riches, and of the honours that are done unto the Rich: As likewise of the naughtiness of this present world: And how not finding his Kindred, which he sought for in Genoa, he went to Rome; and of a jest that was put upon him, before he left that City.  
WIth Flatterers, no rich man is a fool; nor no Poor man wise. For they still wear Spectacles 
The nature of 〈◊〉.  of the largest sight; by reason whereof, things represent themselves far greater than indeed they are. It may truly be called, Wealths-Moth, and Truths-Worme. Flattery resideth most with the Poor, being the greatest enemy that he hath: For that Poverty, which is not the Daughter of the Spirit, is but the Mother of shame and reproach; it is a dis-reputation, that drowns all the other good parts that are in man; it is a Disposition to all kind of evil; it is man's most Foe; it is a Leprosy, full of anguish; it is a way that leads unto Hell; it is a Sea, wherein our Patience is overwhelmed, our honour is consumed, our lives are ended, and our souls utterly lost and cast away for ever.  
The Poor man is a kind of money, that is not currant; the subject of every 
The Poor man's Epith●…, and his wretched condition.  idle Huswives chat; the offscum of the people; the dust of the street, first trampled under foot, and then thrown on the dunghill; In conclusion, the Poor man is the Rich man's Ass. He dineth with the last, fareth of the worst, and payeth dearest: His sixpence will not go so far, as a Rich man's threepences; His opinion is Ignorance; His discretion foolishness; His suffrage, scorn; His Stock upon the Common; abused by many, and abhorred of all. If he come in Company, he is not heard; If any chance to meet him, they seek to shun him; If he advice (though never so wisely) they grudge and murmur at him; If he work Miracles, they say, he is a Witch; If virtuous, that he goeth about to deceive; His venial sin, is a blasphemy; His thought, is made treason; His cause, be it never so just, it is not regarded; and to have his wrongs righted, he must appeal to that other life. All men crush him; no man favoureth him; There is no man, that will relieve his wants; No man that will comfort him in his miseries; nor no man, that will bear him Company, when he is all alone, and oppressed with grief. None help him, all hinder him; none give him, all take from him; he is Debtor to none, and yet must make payment to all. O the unfortunate and poor condition of him that is poor, to whom even the very hours are sold, which the Clock striketh, and pays Custom for the Sunshine in August!  
And as your rotten and refuse-flesh, comes to be meat for dogs; so, as an unprofitable piece of flesh, the discreet poor man comes to be eaten up and devoured by a company of ignorant Chuffs. But it is quite otherwise with 
The rich man's Epit●…ices, and his condition.  the rich: How smooth doth the Wool go on their side? What a fresh gale of wind is still in the poop of them? In how calm a Sea do they sail? What fair weather, free from the least cloud of care? And what carelessness in those storms, which other men suffer? Their Granaries are full of corn; their 
a The Spanish 〈◊〉, Cub●…. 〈◊〉 v●…o 〈◊〉 de ●…las de Ma●…ra del gad●…, que se çinne conar●… y cercos y communement se 〈◊〉 las cub●…s, par●… echa●… en ellas el V●…no. Couarruuia●….  Butts of Wine; their jars of Oil; their Chests of money. In the Summer, he keeps himself from the heats; And in the Winter he clothes himself warm to defend him from the cold. Of all men he is well received. His fantastical tricks, are gentlemanlike carriage; His foolish speeches, are wise sentences; If he be malicious and hath a pestilent pate to plot mischief, then is he said to be subtle, and to have a shrewd head of his own; If he be prodigal, they style him liberal; if covetous, a wary wise fellow; if given to 〈◊〉, he is a witty Gentleman; if foolhardy, of a brave daring spirit; if ●…udent and full of ribaldry, he is a merry man, and a fine Companion; if 〈◊〉 in his taunts, and given to detraction, an admirable Courtier; if incorrigible, all m●…tall▪ if scoffing, pleasant-witted; if babbling and full of prate, they term him sociable; if vicious, affable; if a Tyrant, a powerful man; if obstinate▪ constant; if blasphemous and full of oaths, a very valiant fellow; if dull grave and fit to make a Counsellor. His errors the earth covereth; all are afraid of him; none dare offend him; Every man's ear is t●…d to his tongue seeking by their attention to please his palate; and not a word that comes from him, but is entertained by them with as much solemnity, as if an Oracle had spoken unto them. He will not be said nay, but will have what he list, making himself both Party, judge, and Witness. When he will countenance a lie, his power makes it to pass for a truth, and, as if it were so indeed, it is so received. How is he accompanied, how visited, how feasted, how magnified of all men?  
In a word, Poverty is the poor man's portion, and riches, that of the rich. And therefore, where good blood boileth, & the Pulse of honour beats strongly want is held a greater loss than life; death is not so hurtful, nor seemeth half so terrible unto him, as Necessity. For money warmeth the blood, and makes it quick and active: Whereas he that is without it, is but a dead body 
A man without money, is a body without lif●….  that walks up and down like a ghost amongst the living. A man cannot without it do any thing in its opportune and fit time, he cannot execute his desires, nor accomplish any thing, whereunto he hath a liking.  
This is the course of the world, it hath always kept this track, it is no new thing, but even from the beginning, to see 
a The Spanish phrase, is, Que de atras le viene all garbanço el pico. Which is rendered as I have here set it down. Vide Covarrwias. Verb: Garbanço.  men of base birth, and meaner parts, to wax proud and arrogant. There is no help nor remedy for it; So we found it, and so we shall leave it; we must not look for a better time, nor think that it was otherwise heretofore. All whatsoever, either hath been, is, or shall be, is still one and the selfsame thing. Our first Father was credulous and light of belief; our first mother a Liar, and false of her word; The first son that was borne into the world, a thief and a Fratricide, one that killed his own and only brother.  
What is there now, that was not heretofore? Or what can we hope for in that which is to come? If what is passed seemeth better unto us, it consisteth only in this, that we are more sensible of the ill that is present; and call to remembrance those good things of old, which being so far off, are quite absented from us: yet when our troubles are once over-passed, we are so glad, when we find ourselves to be well rid of them, as if they had never been. So your Meadows beheld from a far, are very pleasant to the eye, and delightful to look upon, but when thou drawest nearer unto them, thou dost not find so much as one hands breadth of ground, where thou mayst conveniently sit thee down, all that thou seest, being nothing else but bogs, pits, and stones. We see the one, but never think on the other: it is as common, as ancient in the world, for every man to love prosperity, to follow after riches, to seek for fullness, to procure preferment, to pursue plenty, and to hazard our lives to get where withal to live, and to grow into money (which is the mother of abundance;) For where that is wanting, the father towards the son, the son towards the father, brother towards brother, and I myself, even towards myself, break my faith and my word, and abhor mine own self.  
This lesson, time hath taught me, out of the discipline of his experimontall discourses, having punished me with an infinite number of miseries and afflictions.  
I plainly now perceive, that if (when I arrived at Genoa,) I had considered what I was, and but looked well into myself, I would not have ventured so far as I did. And if I had had but the wit to have reserved that occasion to some better fortune, I should not happily have been ruined and undone by it, as you shall hear hereafter.  
As soon then as I had left the Captain my Master, having made of all my tottered rags and other old clouts, a kind of Scarecrow (for they would scarce serve for any other use) to fray away birds from the Figtrees, I would needs boast myself to be descended of the 
b The e●…ymologie of this word Godo, or Gothe is diverse: and comes of Gathia, a Province so called Got, also signifies a Father, which is a phrase properly belonging unto God. If from bence we derive the name of Goths, they must be men of esteem, as Heroes, or good men. Goet, is as much as Good, from God; qua voce Deum vocamus, quia bonum à Deo descendit, & ad Deum deducit. It is not a●…isse to think that Godo in its Language, signifies Good. Some would have it come of the Hebrew word Goi, which is by interpretation, Gens, or Natio. But fetch it whence you will, I am sure of this, that the Goths were Lords of innumerable Provinces, and particularly of Spain, where they ruled a long time, till the unfortunate reign of Don Rodrigo, and of the Relics of those, which had retired themselves into the Mountains, the Nobility of Spain began anew to lift up their heads, which conti●…th to this day; and is still in such estimation amongst them, that when they will set forth the presumption of some vainegl●…us fellow, they will ask him, Si deciende de la casta de los Godos. Whether he be ●…ineally descended of the race of the Goths.  Goths, an ancient Gentleman, and nearly allied to most of the Nobility of that City, giving out, that I was such a one, and come of such a house; and making farther inquiry of my Father's ancient Family, and his great Alliance in that City, it caused such distastefulnes, & such a loathing in them towards me, that they did hate me to the death. And it is to be supposed, that if they could have done it without any prejudice to themselves, they would have given it me; And thou also wouldst have done the like, if such a guest should have come within thy doors. But they manifested their good meaning by those actions, which they used towards me. There was not that man to whom I made myself known, that did not relieve me with a box on the ear, a flirt on the lips, a kick on the breech; and he that did least hurt or disgrace me, did not stick to spit in my face, upbraiding me with the name of Villain, Rogue, 
a Covarruu. The Spanish word is, Marrano. i. Porcus vn●…s anni. Et judaeus recenter conuer●…s ad Christianismum, cum Hispanis, vocat●…r Marrano. A notable pleasant trick put upon Guzman, by a Genoes'.  Moor, and the like. Art thou a Genoves? Thou art the son of some vile lewd woman, no better can be conceived of thee. And as if my father had been terra filius, a son of the earth, a misbegotten Bastard, or as if he had been dead some two hundred years ago, I could not find so much as a foot-step of any friend or kinsman of his. Nor could I discover any thing, till one came unto me, and greeting me with a Serpent's tail, like a crafty old Scab; (O that accursed old Villain, that son of a Whore; O how did he cousin me!) clozing fairly with me, up and told me:  
I have heard much talk (my Boy) of your Father, and I can bring you acquainted with those that shall render you a large relation of your Parents, and those none of the meanest; but (if I be not deceived) even the best, and noblest in all the City.  
And because I suppose you have supped already, come and take a bed with me at my house, (for now the time is fit for nothing else) and to morrow morning we will walk a turn or two about the Town, and I shall bring you to those (as I told you) that knew him very well, and had long conversed with him. The good presence that he carried, the gravity wherewith he uttered his words, his good proportion of body, his decent attire, his bald-head, his white Beard, which reached almost down to his Girdle, and the Staff which he bore in his hand, represented (me thought) unto me another Saint Paul. I trusted myself with him, I followed him to his house, with a great deal more desire to sup, then to sleep: for that day I had made but a bad dinner, as well for that I had been chafed and angered; as also that it must have been at mine own cost, which made me to quake, as oft as I did but think upon spending but a farthing.  
But because that which the rich give us, is but little, and what we call for, must cost us money, we eat but little bread, and that (God knows) stale, and hard; though to us, that are almost hunger-starved, it seems a great deal, and soft enough. Besides, I was now grown a pinch-belly, and a very miser to myself.  
I went along, but with feeble legs, ready to faint for hunger, after that I saw what an Host I was like to have, & how (like a Cordoveses) he told me by way of prevention, that I had already supped: And had it not been out of the fear that I had to lose so fair an opportunity, I would not have gone with him, until I had first visited some tippling house. But the hope of that good which seemed to weight for me, made me too leave the Bird that I had in my hand, for to follow the Ox, which fled too fast from me, for me to catch him. As soon as we were come into his house, a servant came to take off his Cloak; he willed him to let it alone; and they twain having talked together a while in their own language, he sent him forth: So that now being left all alone to ourselves, we walked many a turn, and sometimes talked of one thing, sometimes of another. At last, he drew nearer unto me, ask me diverse questions concerning Spain; and amongst the rest, more particularly of my Mother, as how she was left, what was her Estate, how many brothers she had, and in what street she lived? I gave him a full account of all, as wisely, and as advisedly as I could for my life.  
In this discourse I entertained myself the better part of an hour, until such time as his servant was returned. I know not what was his errand, nor what message he brought him back; but my old Fox turned about unto me, and said unto me; So, it is well, enough for this bout, it is time for you to take your rest, get you to bed, and to morrow we shall see one another again, and then we shall enlarge our minds more freely to each other. Then he calls, O la Antonio, Maria, do you hear there? Come away, and conduct this Gentleman to his lodging. I went along with him from lodging to lodging, through this room, and that room, I know not whither myself; it was a great large house, wrought with many goodly fair Pillars, whose pavement was all of Alabaster, hewed foure-square.  
At last we cross through a Court, and enter into a lodging, that stood at the one end thereof, which was very well furnished, and fairly hung with Hangings of sundry sorts of colours, like unto your 
a Arambal: is a Moorish word: and is a 〈◊〉 sort of Hangings.  Arambales, but that they seemed to be somewhat better than they. The Beds-head leaned against the wall, and close adjoining thereunto stood a little low Stool. And as if he would have me to make myself unready, the servant that was appointed to attend me, offered his service to pull off my clothes. But they were such, and so ragged, that myself knew not very well how to put them either off, or on, unless I took a great deal of care, disposing of one piece after another, for there was not any one part that was whole, or put in its proper place, so that it was impossible to discern or know, which was the jerkin, or the Breeches, when you saw them laid abroad, and stretched out upon the ground. So that I having undone some few knots, with the which I had fastened them together for want of points, I let them slide off from me at the bed's feet. And thus soul and slovenly as I was, and so lousy, as no man could well be worse, I crept me in between the sheets. The Bed was soft & good, the sheets clean and sweet. And when I was laid, I began to think with myself, sure, this good old man is my kinsman, that he uses me thus kindly, but will not make himself known unto me, till to morrow morning. It is a good beginning, it cannot be, but that he will give me new clothes, and deal kindly with me, since being in that poor and miserable estate as I was, he had given me such good entertainment. Questionless it is so, & now will some fair fortune befall me. I was but young, I did not dive to the bottom of his drift, I only looked upon the Superficies, I went no farther than the outward appearance. For, if I had had either wit or experience, I might have considered with myself, that great offers, have great ends, and that he that is full of courtesy, is full of craft. 
A grande offerta, grande pensamiento.  For such kindnesses as these, are not done for nothing, there is some mystery more in it, than a man is aware of. And always observe this for a Maxim, or general rule, That when a man shall offer the courtesies of an extraordinary nature, and such as heretofore he hath not been accustomed to do, either he means to put a trick upon thee, or else he stands in need of thee. The Servant, when he had me to bed, went forth of the Chamber, leaving a candle burning by me, I spoke unto him, wishing him to put it out. He told me, I must hold him excused, and that he would not do so, for in the night time, there fly up and down in that Country (almost in every corner) certain Bats, or Reare-Mise of an extraordinary bigness to those in other places, which are very offensive, and do much hurt, and that the only remedy against them, is to have a light standing by one's bed sided, for they can by no means endure it, but seek to avoid it by flying away from it into some blind corner or other.  
He likewise told me, that this their Country was full of Hob-gobblins, and Robin-good-fellowes, which were all great enemies to the light, but in your dark lodgings, they did now and then play their parts, and do many a shrewd turn. All which I did believe with the greatest simplicity in the world.  
This said, he went his ways; and he was no sooner gone, but I presently got me up, and made fast the door, not that I was afraid of robbing (for I had nothing to lose) but out of a suspicion and jealousy that I had, that some one mischance or other might befall me; being young, unfriended, unknown, and in a strange place, where I never was before.  
Having (as I thought) made all sure, I returned back again to my bed, fell presently asleep, enjoying (to my great content) a sweet and quiet rest; for the Pillows, the 
a Your Spanish Colchones, are like our finer sort of English Matresses; quilted with Wool, or Flax; for in your 〈◊〉 Countries they use no featherbeds.  Colchones, the Coverlets, and the Sheets did drink a Health unto me, and I (with a very good will) did sound pledge them.  
The better part of the night was now overpassed, the beam of midnight's balance began to decline, and leaned a little towards the break of day, whilst I, being in a dead sleep, was wakened on the sudden with a confused noise of four parts: Devils they seemed to be by their shape, their habit, their black curled hair, and by those fearful ugly vizards, which they had upon their faces.  
Having walked their Stations a while about the Chamber, they came at last unto the bed, wherein I lay, putting me in such a fright, that I lost my senses for a time, and without any word speaking, off they pluck the Coverlets from me, anon after the Sheets. I wondered what a God's name would become of me; I fell as fast as I could for my life, to crossing and blessing of myself; I ran over my prayers, I called a thousand times upon the name of I●…svs; but they were Daemonij baptizati, christian Devils, and therefore drew still nearer and nearer unto me; They had put upon the Colchone, under the nether sheet, a Blanket; every one took hold of his corner, and haled me forth into the middle of the room. I was much amazed, and extremely troubled, when I saw that my prayers could not prevail; insomuch, that I did neither dare; and if I durst, yet I was not able to open my mouth, nor to speak so much as one word▪ if I might have all the world for my labour.  
The room was high-roofed, and fitted for their purpose; where, when they had me out amongst them, they began to blanket me, and to toss me up in the air, as they use to do dogs at Shrovetide, till growing so weary, that they could hold out no longer, they left winnowing of me (being sufficiently fanned already) and laid me down there again, where they found me; and leaving me for dead, they covered me with the clothes, and went out that way they came in, having first put out the light. I was so dis-jointed, and so broken as it were in pieces, and so beside myself, that when it was day, I did not know, whether I were in heaven, or here upon earth: God, who was pleased to preserve me, knew for what end he did it.  
It was now about eight of the Morning, and I was willing to rise, for that I found myself reasonably able to get up. Me thought, I did not smell so sweet as I should, my body cleaving to the Sheets, no clay could be more clammy, nor any plaster cling closer.  
This put me in mind of my old Master's Wife, the Cook. And although there are no perturbations, without some one disorder or other, yet this did much afflict me. But now the Crow could be no blacker, than were his wings: And therefore I rubbed over all my body with the cleanest places, that I could meet withal in the sheets; which when, I had done, I began to buckle my harness unto me, and fall a knitting of my old knots, to my older clothes. And the longer I was in making of me ready, the more I did consider with myself, what a Devil that should be, that had befallen me this last night: And if when I rose up, I had not found my limbs almost shaken in pieces, my bones bruised, and in a manner out of joint, I should verily have thought, that it had been but a dream. I looked round about the room, but could by no means find which way they should come in. By the door it was impossible, for I had shut that sure with mine own hands, and found it 〈◊〉 locked, as I left it.  
Then I began to cast with myself, whether they might not be those Hob-gobblins, and Robin-good-fellowes, which the Youngman told me of overnight. But that (me thought) could not be; for if it were so, then had he done very ill, that he did not advise me beforehand, that there were some of these same mad merry spirits, that delighted as much in light, as other more melancholy Devils did in darkness.  
Whilst I was musing on this business, and devising with myself, how or which way they could get in; I lifted up the Hangings, to see, if behind them I could espy any little outlet; at last I lighted on an open window, which did butt out upon the Court, thorough which we crossed. Then I presently said with myself; This way were the Bulls brought in, my hurt came in at this Window; And albeit every rib in my body, and all my bones throughout, did rattle in my skin, making such a noise for all the world as your Chesse-men do, when you shake them together in the bag, yet I did dissemble it all that I could (in regard of that slovenly part, which I had played against my will) till I should see myself quite clear of the house: I threw up the bed as handsomely as I could, covering all as close as might be, that if any should come in, they might not smell out my fault, and find out the feebleness of my retentive faculties, and so the same Devils be brought in again, and torment me anew.  
The servant, that brought me thither, came to me towards nine of the clock, and told me, that his Master expected me in the Church, and that I must go thither unto him; And because I would not willingly have his man stay behind in the chamber, that I might get the start of him, I entreated him that he would do me the kindness to bring me to the door, because I was unacquainted with the house, and knew not the way out. So he brought me forth into the street, and returned back again.  
When I saw I was come off clear from him, as if I had been borne with wings at my feet, and my body had been sound & whole, I took 
a Tomar las calças de Villa diego. Vale huyr mas que de passo, This Proverb is in Celestine, but it's original unknown: But it should seem Villa Diego was driven to his shifts, and not having time to put on his breeches, was forced to fly away with them in his hand. Covarr. verb. Calças. Guzman, leaves Genoa, and goes for Rome.  Villa diego his Breeches, and tripped away so nimbly, that he that had run Post, should hardly have overtaken me. He runs fast that flies: Fear addeth wings and strength; thought was not swifter than my flight. I bought something by the way to satisfy hunger, and for to gain time, I eat as I went, and made no stay, till I was out of the City. Where in a Tavern I called for a Cup of Wine, wherewith I refreshed myself, that I might walk the stronger towards Rome, whither I had directed my journey, thinking all the way as I went upon that gross scorn, whereby they sought to banish me out of Genoa, to the end that my poverty might not disgrace them; but I did not remain their Debtor, nor had they any great cause to brag thereof in the end, as you shall see in the second part.   

CHAPTER II.  
Guzman discourseth of the unhappiness, greatness, and commendation of Necessity and Want; And how after he was gone from Genoa, he fell a begging. And how keeping Company with other poor beggars, he was instructed by them, of their Statutes, and Laws.  
IFled so fast out of Genoa, that if Lot's wife had but done that, which I did, she had never been turned into a Pillar of Salt. I never offered to look back, my Anger spurred me on, and put me up to the height of my speed; for when choler once 
Anger and its effects.  begins to boil, we hardly feel the wounds that are given us, though they be never so mortal, never so deadly. Besides, by how much the more a man re-bringeth as it were himself, to himself, and looketh home into his own bosom, by so much the more he comes nearer to the recognition and knowledge of his hurt.  
I escaped from the overthrow given at 
a Ronçes valles, is a Monastery, built by King Don Sancho de Navarra, which he endowed with great Rents; it is a Covent of Can●…s Regular, who bear in their breasts an Azure Cross, having the form of a shepherd's Crook, or Crosier staff. here was a great battle fought. The said King lies buried in this Monastery, his body being brought from Tudela, where he died.  Ronçes valles, como perro 
b Vexigas, are certain Blisters, which rise upon the flesh, through heat, or some other accident, and commonly grow on the feet of men or beasts, with over much travail. Covarrwias. Bexiga.  con bexiga; like a Dog, that claps his tail between his legs, and through too much haste to be gone as far as his feet will carry him, grows sur-bated, and stiff in his joints. There was not one firm ligament in all the whole Fabric of my body. But I did not much feel it, till I came to rest myself; When I drew near to a little Village some ten miles off from Genoa, where I sat me down, not knowing whither to go, being bruised in my body, naked of clothes, without money in my Purse, and black and blue all over, as if I had been beaten with a Cudgel.  

c Necessity and its effects.  O Necessity; how dost thou abate man's courage? How dost thou take off his Metal? How dost thou dishearten his body? And howbeit it be true, that thou dost sharpen the wit, and refine the understanding, yet thou destroyest the faculties thereof, by diminishing and taking off so much from the senses, that they are ready to be flawed and cracked in pieces through too much sufferance, and that intolerable patience, whereunto they be put.  
There are two sorts of 
d Two sorts of Necessity.  Necessity; The one shameless and impudent, which (like an unmannerly guest) comes of itself, without being called. The other, which being invited, strains a little curtsy, but comes upon entreaty at the first bidding. That which unrequested, 
e Necessity, that invites itself, and the misery thereof.  bids itself, God deliver us from it; And this is that, of which I treat. This is like a powerful guest in a poor man's house, who out of his greatness brings a thousand followers along with him; it is that man of War, wherein a multitude of mischiefs, (like so many Pirates) stand ready armed, waiting to do hurt. It is the framer and plotter of all kind of treacheries and villainies; hard to be endured, and worse to be corrected. It is that Lucerna Navis Praetoriae, that Lantern in the Admiral's Ship, which all couzenages and deceits attend and follow; it is the sport of Boys and children; a foolish dance, a ridiculous Comedy, the sad and direful Tragedy of honour and of virtue. It is fierce, foul, fantastic, furious, fastidious, faint, facile, feeble, false: only she fails of being a Franciscan. And it is a wonder, if she afford any other fruit but infamy.  
That other, which we bid & invite, 
f Necessity, that comes not before she be invited; and the greatness thereof.  & comes not but when she is called, is Ladylike, liberal, rich, frank, powerful, affable, generous, sociable, gracious, acceptable, and welcome to all. She leaves us a full and plentiful house, feeds us at her costs, and defraies all reckon; she is a firm defence, an inexpugnable Tower, true riches indeed, and good, without hurt; That 
g Necessity, not necessited, and the commendation thereof.  Necessity (I say) which necessitates itself, but is not necessitated, is the place of perpetual rest, the house of God, and the way to heaven. It lifteth up men's minds, it adds strength unto their bodies, it doth ennoble their fame, it cheereth their hearts, it magnifieth their Actions, and makes their names immortal.  
Let renowned Cortes, her truest Lover, sing forth her praises. Her legs and feet are of Diamonds, her body of Saphires, and her countenance of Carbuncles, it shineth, it cheereth, and it quickeneth, it is full of pleasure, lustre, and life. But that other neighbour of hers, looks like a filthy old sluttish Laundress, where you shall see nothing but a heap of spital rags, full of mattered stuff, and the soils of ulcerous sores, which no eye is able to endure, it is so loathsome to look upon, and therefore (with a great deal of reason) abhorred of all. Behold and view me well, for I am one of those, with whom Necessity fell in love, she never left following me, but kept me company at bed and at board, living in deadly sin, by being bound to seek out means to maintain her. And to this end, she made me study the 
h ●…iuion, 〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉 fellow that will not worke●…, but go from Town to Town, from house to house, to beg a piece of bread, and a Dish of drink. It is a French word, Bribeur, Mendicus. Briber Mendicare. Covarrwias.  Bri●…iatick Art. This was the course I ran, I was to day in one place, and to morrow in another, begging an alms of all that I met with.  
It is fit, that we should give every man his due. And therefore I must confess unto thee, that there is much charity used in Italy, and indeed so much, 
Italy, a charitable Country.  that this new Trade, that I had betaken myself unto, made me loath to leave it, I found so much sweetness in it. For in a few days I grew flush, and able to make wing to maintain my flight; So that from Genoa, whence I came, till I saw Rome, where I stayed, I performed all that Voyage, without spending so much as one farthing. The money that was given, I kept that whole and entire, and for victuals, I had ever sufficient, and more than would serve my turn. I was yet but a Novice, and therefore threw that away many times to the dogs, which afterwards, when I had more judgement, I fold for money, which brought me in no small gains.  
I had a great mind (as soon as I came thither) to put myself into new clothes, that I might be somewhat again like myself; but this counsel of mine (me thought) was not so good; and therefore repenting myself of it, I said thus with myself; Friend Guzman; take heed, lest this other do not prove-like that of Toledo. And if being well clad, thou shouldst not chance to meet with a Master, how wilt thou have bread to put in thy mouth? Content thyself, and continue still as thou art; For, if being well apparelled, thou shalt beg an alms, they will give thee nothing; Keep that which thou hast, and leave off the●…e thy vain and idle humours.  
This deliberation took place: and having now set up my rest, I knit another knot upon my Purse-strings, and then I spoke unto my money, and said, Here rest you quiet, for I know not what need I may have of your help. I began then in these my old rags, that were not good enough to make waste Paper, hanging those tottered streamers as handsomely as I could about me, (which seemed like so many little pieces of rauelled Flannel, so full they were of jigs and iaggs) to beg for my living.  
Having recourse still at noon to those places, where there was either bread, or porridge to be had; and sometimes it would so fall out, that I should get as much at once, as might very well serve three more besides myself. I visited your Cardinals, your Ambassadors, your Princes, your Bishops, and other great men's houses, not over-skipping any one of them. I was directed unto them by another young Youth of that Country, he was my Guide, who was well skilled in that craft, and was the first Tutor that ever read any Lectures unto me in this kind. He taught me the first grounds and Principles of this learned Science, and the different Species and forms of begging, how this man was to be sought unto, how that; what phrase of language to be used towards such a sort of people, and what a differing fashion to those of another kind. For we must not have all one tone, for all sorts of persons, but must vary our note, alter our strain, and apply ourselves to that stile, which we shall think will take best, and most move and affect the party, whose devotion we crave.  
Men do not care for curious words and choice phrases, they love not the smoothness of flattery, and as little can they abide to be beaten about the ears with loud exclamations; that which they like best, is an honest plain kind of begging, Por amor de Dios; Good Sir, for God's sake, bestow one poor penny upon me.  
Your women, they are wonderfully devoted to the Virgin Mary, to our Lady del Rosario, and the like; with these you may be a little more liberal of your Language, beseeching God, that he will direct all their Actions to his holy service, that he would deliver them from all deadly sin, from the accusation of false Witnesses, from the power of Traitors, and the malice of evil tongues.  
This being well pronounced, and repeated over and over; with a great deal of vehemency of words, and a strong and earnest delivery, makes their purses presently fly open, and happy is she who can first supply thee with an Alms. He taught me how to work the rich to compassion, how to move the poorer sort to pity, and how to oblige the religious devout man, that he should not be able to get from me, before he had given me an Alms. He instructed me so well in such a company of fine cunning tricks in this kind, that I got a great deal in a little time.  
There was not that man, but I did know, even from the very Pope, to him 
Cono●…ia desde el Papa, hasta el que estava sin capa. Proverb.  that had ne'er a Cloak: that is, from the highest to the lowest. I did run over all the streets of Rome, and that I might not be too troublesome by begging too often in one place, or of one person, I did divide the whole City into certain quarters, every working-day walking my several Station; but on Sundays and Holidays, I was wholly for your Churches, I never missed, but punctually kept my hours, and there I made good purchase. But that which I made most profit of, were the pieces of bread, that were given me: These I sold, and they yielded me many a fair penny. Part whereof those poor men did buy, which did not go up and down a begging, but 
* The Spanish word is, Tenian la bola en cl embogue.  were fair for it, being (as they say) the next door to it, who out of their poverty, were fain to trade with me, because I could afford them a good bargain.  
And some I sold to poor Country-folkes, such as make a living of feeding Pigs, and fatting of Poultry. But those that were my best paymasters, were your 
a Qui coquit & facit turrones Turron. Copta Crustulum. A Biscuit made with Honey, Almonds, small Nuts, Wa●…uts, Kernels of Pine-Apples, etc.  Turroneros, for to make their Alaxur or 
b Alfaxor is a Moorish word; And is a kind of Conserve, made of Hony, Spices, and crumbs of bread. Covarr. verb. Alaxu.  Alfaxor, as they call it in Castille. I did help myself besides, with some old household rags, who, for that they saw I was young, and naked, did in pity bestow them upon me, which were something worth to me, though to them they were things of nothing.  
Afterwards, I fell in company with some other of more ancient standing in that faculty (for they had their distinction of degrees, & priority of forms, as in Schools) for the better increasing of my knowledge, & that from them I might learn how to govern myself wisely and discreetly. These Rogues had been admitted into the Livery long ago, and had borne Office of Renters and Wardens, men that had held preeminence amongst them, and deserved to be Masters of their company. With these I went to some known Doles; there being some men that did daily (out of mere devotion) distribute alms every morning to the poor in their particular houses. Going once to receive this Dole in the French Ambassadors house, I might hear other poor Beggars, that were behind me, begin to murmur, saying; This Spanish unhappy Boy, which beggeth here now in Rome, is newly come, and a mere stranger in this place, he is not acquainted with this course of life, and for want of knowledge, (by that which I have observed in him) he is likely to beat down the market, and if some order be not quickly taken with him, he will undo us all. For having once filled his belly, in the most places where he comes, if they give him any victuals, he refuses to take them, and tells them (God be thanked) he hath dined well enough already. He will quite overthrow the Art of begging, by giving the world by this means to understand, that we poor Rogues have more given us, than we can well tell what to do withal. So that if he run this course a little longer, he will hurt us, and do himself no good.  
Another of their Comrags, that was there with them, Tush (quoth he) hold ye your peace, let me alone with this Lad, I will take him to task, and ye shall see how I will work him. I will instruct him how to understand himself, & how he may not easily be understood by others. Leauc him (I say) to me. With that, speaking softly unto me, he called me unto him, and we went out alone by ourselves from all the rest of the Company. He was an excellent Proficient, and a very ready and dextrous man in all that appertained to that Art.  
The first thing that he did (as if he had been the Protopobre, or Prince of Beggars) was, to examine my life, ask me, Whence I was? What was my name? When, and to what end I was come thither? Then did he deliver unto me the great obligation, that Beggars had to keep a decorum in all their actions, to hold correspondence one with another, and to link in love together like sworn 
a The Spanish word is Hermano de mesta. A certain jurisdiction belonging to Herdsmen and Shepherds. The Etymology thereof is not so easy; but I will deliver what I think, remitting myself to others better opinion. It is termed Mesta, quasi mixta. By reason of the concurrency and mixture of diverse Herds and Flocks one amongst another. And because they make restitution of those that are thus inter-mingled one with another, which are known by some Marks branded with hot irons. Or it is said to be Mesta, of amista, because of the great conformity and friendship between these kind of people, who are very observant of their Laws. This the Idiom of Arragon doth confirm, who name that, which the Spaniards call Mesta, Ligallo, which is as much as Liga, and Liga, is a confederation, or friendship.  brothers, and that I should inform myself of certain curiosities, and secrets, and some Principles, which I did not as yet know. For in very truth, that which I learned of my Youth aforementioned, and of other poor Rogues of less talon, and far inferior both in knowledge and experience, were all trivial things, and of no esteem, in comparison of those precepts, which I received from this Grand-Master of his faculty. He gave me certain Rules, which I shall never forget as long as I live.  
Amongst the which, one was, that I should unfold three or four leaves of my stomach, and open the book to a plain vomit, yet to be so well read therein, that it should not appear to the world, that it proceeded from any surfeit, or that I had overcharged my stomach. He taught me a trick how to turn up my stomach in some by-corner, which wrought two good effects.  
First, it moved the people to compassion, thinking that I was sick: Secondly, though afterwards I should swallow down two Platters of warm pottage, there would be room enough still for more. And so by this means the infamy and misery that the poor endured, would the better be published and spread abroad. I knew how many bits I was to eat, and how I was to look upon the bread that they gave me, how to kiss it, and how often, and what kind of countenance to cast upon it: What fashion of behaviour I was to use, and how to carry myself upon all occasions, differing the form, according to the diversity of men's dispositions. I knew the true tone of my voice, when I was to rise, and when to fall with it. I knew the set hours wherein I was to repair to such or such a place; In what houses, I might enter in even to the bedside, and in what, I might not press no farther than the door. I knew whom I might be bold to importune, and be earnest withal in my craving; and whom again I ought not to solicit or speak unto above once. In conclusion, he gave me in writing all the Statute-Lawes, and Orders, ordained by that free Commonwealth of beggars, instructing me in the observation of them, for the avoiding of scandal, and the better informing of my understanding And these are they that follow.  
The Laws and Ordinances, that are inviolably to be observed amongst Beggars.  
FOrasmuch as all Nations have their proper method of Begging, and are distinguished and known by their sound, and by a differing form from all others; as are your Almains by their singing, and going in troops; your Frenchmen, by their praying; your Flemings, by their making of legs, and their low and frequent Congees; your Gypsies, by their importuning; your Portugals, by their weeping; your Italians, by their long Circumlocutions; and your Spaniards, by their big looks, and high language, as if they would swagger a man out of an Alms whether he will or no; whereby they make themselves hateful to their own hurt, being held no better than vain babblers, and a kind of insufferable proud Rogues; these therefore we more especially will & command, that they reform this disorder, bear themselves civilly, that they do not curse, nor blaspheme, (as too commonly they use to do) but that they keep good order, according to our Statutes and Ordinances in that case provided.  
Item, we will and command; That none of our brother Rogues, or beggar whatsoever, either wounded, or lame of any of these Nations, whence, or whatsoever, shall join and unite himself with those of another Country, and that not any person or persons of all, or any one particular, shall make any Covenant, Compact, or Alliance, with any blind men, that go saying their prayers, from door to door, nor with any Mounty-bankes, Musicians, nor Poets, nor with Slaves set at liberty, though our Lady herself should have released and set them free from the power and tyranny of the Turks, nor with old Soldiers, which being tottered and torn, have forsaken their colours, and fled from their Captains; nor with Mariners, that with one storm are dis-heartened, and have no more mind to go to Sea. For howbeit all and every one of them do suit and agree well together in all kind of cheating, and roguish tricks, and would make excellent beggars, yet the Art itself of Begging, and the language are much differing. And therefore we will and command every one of th●…se to keep his own quarter, and strictly to observe such Orders as are set down and ordained in that case.  
Item, We will and command, that the poor of every Nation, especially in their own Countries, have certain Taverns, and known victualling houses, where shall ordinarily preside and govern, three or four of the more ancient amongst them, having Staffs in their hands, as Ensigns of their precedency, and authority: Whom we depute, to treat in those places of all such Accidents and other things that shall happen there, or shall otherwise be brought to their knowledge. That they shall sit in Council, and give their opinion thereupon. And when they have so done, they may afterwards play at Fox mine Host, or some other drinking 
a The Spanish word is Rentilla: The Italian, Gattacieca. It is some Tosse-pols game, wherein your Ale-Knights, and idle Rogues sit over their Cups, and censure and deride all estates.  Game, at Cards or Dice for their recreation, and to wash away care. They may sit over the Cup, and tell old Stories: they may recount the famous Acts, done either by themselves, or others, as also of their Ancestors, and boast of those wars, wherein they have served, and whatsoever else they shall think fit for entertainment.  
Item, We will and command; That every Beggar carry a good Bat or Cudgel in his hand, and those that are able, to put a good Pike at the end of it, that they may be armed and provided against all casualties, that may befall either their Purse, or their Persons. Which they are to do upon penalty of their own hurt.  
Item, That no Beggar may, or do wear any new garment, or but half worn out, save such as is rend and threadbare, and full of patches, by reason of the ill example that may grow thereby, & the general hurt that may come of it. Always provided, that if any such Coat or Cloak be given by way of Alms, that then it shall be lawful for him to wear it that day only wherein it was given him, without any farther limitation of licence, but the next day following to put it off, and never wear it more, but forthwith to alter the property, upon pain of our general displeasure, and his own particular hindrance.  
Item, We will and command, That in the taking of their places, and their seats, they do all and every one of them observe, antiquitatem possessionis, & non personae the antiquity of possession, and not of the person; preferring the ancienter in standing, before the elder in years. And that no man shall dare of presume, to ufurpe or defraud one another in this kind.  
Item, We will and command, That two sick, or two lame persons may join and go together, and call Brothers, but with this condition, that they beg by turns, and strain their voices as high as they can reach; the one still beginning where the other leaveth, observing equal time, and tune, every one keeping his one side of the street; and not using any artificial phrases, or affected form of speeches let each of them express, as significantly as he can, his particular grief; and let them afterwards part and share the gains between them, upon pain of our Worship's displeasure.  
Item, we will and command, That no Beggar carry from the knife upwards, any arms, either offensive or defensive. That he wear no Gloves, Pantofles, Spectacles, his hose trussed or his stockings gartered, upon pain of forfeiting of all his temporalties.  
Item, it is farther enacted, That they may wear a foul filthy clout knit about their heads in stead of a Kerchieffe.  
They may also bear about them a pair of Sizars, a knife, an Awl, Needle and thread, a Thimble, a wooden Dish, a 
a The Spanish word, is Calabaça: wherein Pilgrims and beggars carry their beverage.  Gourd, a little Hand-basket, a Scrip, a Wallet. Be it always provided, that they bear no Sack at their back, no basket of burden, no 
b Alforjas, is a Wallet divided e into two parts, that it may the more easily be borne upon a man's beast. It is an Arabic word, to wit, Ahfodja, of the Verb Ahfad, which signifies to keep: because in it Travellers keep their provision.  Alforjas or Knapsack, which Travellers use to put their provision in, when they are to go some great journey, nor any such like kind of things as these be. But it shall be only lawful for them to walk with two Crutches, and a sore leg, with a long and deep tent in it.  
Item, We will and command, That all beggars bear two purses about them; one littleone, and another of a bigger size, besides certain private pockets for closer conveyance, that may safely endure a search; and that they put the alms that is given them into their Hat. And We further will and command, that they neither may make, nor do make any Pouch or Budget, in Coat, Cloak, Frock, Gabardine, Cassock, or Mandilion, upon forfeiture, it being once espied and found out, they may chance to lose it, and stand registered ever after for fools upon record.  
Item, We will and command, that no man discover the secrets and mysteries of our Trade, nor diuulge and publish them abroad, save only to those that are Professors of the said Arte. And he that shall invent or find out any new trick or cunning device for the common good, shall be bound to manifest the same to the incorporation of beggars; to the end, that it may be understood and known of all, for as much as such good things as these, are to be accounted as common, there being no prohibition to the contrary; and more especially, not to be concealed from those that are our Countrymen, and naturals of the same Kingdom. But for the better encouraging of others, and that notice may be taken of our good government; We give privilege, and plenary power to the first inventor and Author thereof, that for the space of one whole & complete year, he make his best benefit of the first impression, not suffering or permitting any, without his especial and particular Licence, to use or exercise the same, upon pain of our heavy displeasure.  
Item, We will and command, That all beggars shall manifest and make known to one another, all those houses, where any alms are to be had, especially those, where there is any Gaming, as also such places, where your Gallants use to meet, and court their Mistresses; for that is a certain rent, and seldom faileth.  
Item, We will and command, That no beggar breed any hunting Hounds, Greyhounds, or bloodhounds, nor may in his own house have any more than one little Mungril-curre; for the which we give free liberty and licence, and that he lead him along with him either tied in a string, or otherwise fastened to his girdle.  
Item, We will and command, That none shall carry a dog about with him, making him to dance and leap thorough a Hoop: nor shall it be lawful for him to have or hold any place to beg at the door of any Church, any station, or jubilee, only he shall have free leave to beg as he passes along by the street, upon pain of being counted contumacious and rebellious to our Laws and Ordinances.  
Item, We will and command, That no beggar presume to come to the Butcher's shambles, or to the Fishmarket, to buy either fish or flesh, save in case of extreme necessity, and licence of the Physician; nor that he sing, play upon any Instrument, leap, or dance, by reason of the scandal that may arise by so doing.  
Item, We licence and permit, that such beggars as are so disposed, may rend certain children, to the number of four (but not above) their ages being first examined; and if two of them be taken for twins, borne of one womb, at one and the selfsame time, it shall not be thought amiss of, in case that the elder of the two be not above five year old. And if it be a woman that goes about with these children, she shall bear one of them sucking at her breast; and if a man, he shall carry one of them in his arms, and lead the other along by the hand, and not otherwise.  
Item, We will and command, That those Beggars that have any children, they make setting dogs of them, to lie watching close at your Churches, and have still an eye upon those that come in and out, for whom it shall be lawful to beg an alms for their poor father or mother, that lie very sick and keep their beds, and have nothing to help themselves withal, having four or five small children, that are ready to starve for want of food. Always provided, that it be so taken and understood, that this Patent extends not to any that is above six years of age; for if they shall once exceed and pass those years, then are they to shift for themselves, and like birds that are flush, to forsake the nest, and like Hounds that are ready to be entered, nose out their own living, and go abroad, and bring home their prey at usual and ordinary hours.  
Item, We will and command, That no beggar give consent, or suffer his children to serve, to be bound Apprentice to any Trade, or to wait upon any man, whom he shall acknowledge for his Master. For their gains will be little, and their labour much: And therein they shall greatly offend, by not following the steps of their forefathers, and running a course quite contrary to that good way, wherein they have been borne and bred.  
Item, We will and command, That by seven of the morning in the Winter, and at five in the Summer, no beggar be in his bed, or keep his lodging, but by break of day, as soon as the Sun shall be ready to peep forth, or some half hour before they go abroad to gather honey for their hive. And likewise, that some half an hour before the shutting in of the Evening, he by all means, and at all times retire himself, and get him home; save only in some cases reserved, and that with our especial leave and licence.  
Item, We permit and give leave, that they may break their fast in the morning, ●…ating a morsel of some thing or other, if they have laboured for their living, and gotten any thing the same morning, and not otherwise. For therein they lose time (which is a precious thing) and spend upon the stock, by diminishing the principal. But with condition, that he wash and cleanse his mouth, that the sent thereof be not perceived; As likewise, that he pass not up and down the streets, or by any man's house, playing with a clove of Garlic in his hand, a sliced Onion, or that his breath smell of Wine; upon pain of being held incapable and unfit to beg.  
Item, We will and command, that no man dare to play the Impostor, or commit any gross villainy, as to steal householdstuff, or help to convey it away, or exchange it for other, or to untyle houses, or strip children of their clothes, or to commit any the like base action, upon pain of being excluded from our brotherhood, and put out of our incorporation, and to be remitted over to the secular power.  
Item, Our will and pleasure is, that every beggar, when he shall be of full age; that is, (three years after twelve, being fully complete and ended) having legally and worthily laboured in that course of life, and attained to the true art of this our free and noble Profession, he be held, taken, known, and understood (be it any such manner of person or persons) to have fulfilled the Law, and complied with the Statute: notwithstanding, that two other years to gain experience, and to learn how to drive the 
a Xavega is the Span●…sh word, which is a Fisher's net at Sea, wherewith by little and little, they go drawing and haling the fish to the shore, where certain Picaros and Rogues are still waiting for to pull and tug at the c●…rdes of the net, whom they call Los de la Xavega. It is an Arabic word, which in its own termination is said to be Xibquetum, of the Verb Xebque, which signifieth, to entrap, or bring into the Net.  fish into the net, have always to this very day and present hour, been thought very necessary and expedient; and ever after to be held as a Graduate, that hath performed his exercise, and taken Degree amongst us. And having thus professed himself, and made proof of his learning and manners, we farther will and command, that he have, hold, and enjoy all the Liberties, Privileges, and exemptions granted by us under our great Seal; but with this condition, that he neither may, nor at any time do forsake our service, and that he show his obedience unto us, by observing our Laws and Statutes, and by submitting himself to our Censure, in case he shall offend against them.   

CHAPTER III.  
How Guzman de Alfarache, was not only reprehended by a learned Rogue, and Doctor in his faculty; but likewise how he learned of him some new Orders and Capitulations, concerning this his roguish kind of life, and that which happened unto him in this his upright course; And of many Precepts and lessons, delivered unto him upon this point by a Cordoveses, an old cunning Crosse-biter.  
BEsides these Ordinances, they had many other which they duly kept and observed, not worthy at this time to be spoken of, which were prescribed and compiled by the advice and counsel of the famousest Rogues in Italy, every one (in his time) setting down such Laws, as then seemed most convenient. So that it might be said of them, that they were another new Recopilation, or gathering together of those of Castille. These were much illustrated in those days by one, whose proper name was Alberto, whose surname Miser Morcon: Whom in Rome, we had made choice of 
Miser Morcon, General and Superintendent over the beggars.  for our General; Who, for his stature, shape, proportion of body, his fashion, conversation, and commendable carriage, deserved to have the Imperial Crown set upon his head. For he far surpassed all his Predecessors, who were no way to be compared unto him, so far did he outstrip all them that had gone before him. He might deservedly be styled the Prince of Roguery, and the Arch-begger of Christendom. He would devour you at one meal, all the tripes and entrails of two good sheep, together with the puddings that were made of them, besides the Trotters, a whole Cows Vdder, ten pound of bread, unboulted and unsifted, between the beginning and end of dinner, allowing himself thereunto in drink, two 
b Every Açumbre, we divide into four measures, which we call in Spain, quartilloes. An Açumbre, may be said also to be a great ●…ig jar, or Pitcher fill●…d with wine.  Açumbres of Wine. And albeit he himself alone got more alms in one day then any six of those ordinary beggars, which gained most; yet had he never any overplus left, nor did sell any of those scraps, that were given him, nor did receive any money, which he did not presently drink out. And he did go so far beyond us, and was every way so much our superior, that we must of force (as Vassals to his good or bad fortune) succour and relieve him all that we could. I never saw him buttoned, nor covered from the girdle upward, never to wear any girdle, nor so much as half a hose or shoe upon foot or leg; His head was evermore bare, his beard close shaved, and his skin all over his body did shine and glister, as if it had been anointed and basted with Bacon. This Vpright-man did ordain, that every poor body should carry about with him a wooden dish in the crown of his hat, or some other convenient place, and the dried rind of a Pompion, wherein to put his Wine, clapping it in some close place, where it might not be seen.  
That no beggar should carry any jar or pot about him, wherein to drink 
Orders, set down by Morcon, King of Beggars.  his water. But when he came to drink, he should sup it out of a Cauldron, a Kettle, a great earthen Pan, some broad Tub, or huge Vatte, or the like, and then too, to thrust in his head like a beast, and not in any other manner.  
That he, that should not drink a sound draught after his Salad, should be made incapable to drink afterwards, as long as that supper, or dinner lasted, and to rise up a thirst.  
That no begging Rogue should buy, or eat any Comfits, Conserves, or the like sweet things.  
That every one should eat either Salt, or Pepper with his meat, unless it have been therewith seasoned before. In that case, the doing, or not doing of it, shall be left to his own liberty.  
That your poor Rogues shall be bound to sleep upon the ground in their clothes, without Pillow or Bolster, lying upon their backs, with their faces up to heaven.  
That having gotten enough to spend that day he goes a begging, he shall trouble himself no farther, nor beg any more for that day, but give way to others to glean, where he left off.  
This our Miser Morcon, when he did eat, would lie lazing all along upon the ground, and would sleep both Winter & Summer, without any covering of Sheet, Blanket, or any thing else that might keep him warm.  
Ten months of the year, he never went out of Taverns, and victualling houses; We had (as you have heard) our Laws and Orders amongst us, all which I committed to memory, and was perfect in them, but did observe no more of them, save such as appertained to good government, and of these I was every way as religious, and observant, as if my salvation had depended upon the true keeping of them. I made it my chief happiness, and placed a kind of felicity therein, that my Actions might credit my Profession, and become absolute in my calling. For things, that are once imitated & begun by us, when we have taken them in hand, are not easily to be forgotten, nor to be given over, till they be fully finished, and ended. For it is a note of small prudence, to enter upon many things, and to end none of them.  
I did not put my hand to any thing, that ever I took it away, till I saw my labour ended, and had fully effected what I had under-taken. But because as yet I was but green fruit, and not come to my full ripeness, whereby I wanted much of my true relish, I failed much in the practice part of my profession, and fell short daily in such casualties as did usually offer themselves unto me, and in many of them I did much err.  
Upon a Feast-day, about the beginning of 
a In Italy in that 〈◊〉 it is 〈◊〉 at that time of day.  September, towards on●… of the clock in the afternoon, I went forth into the City in that great heat, and such a scorching Sun, that I am not able to express it, persuading myself, that whosoever should hear me beg at that time of day, would verily think, that I was wondrous hungry, and taking pity of me, would relieve me with some thing or other.  
I would needs (merely out of curiosity, and no other end else in the world) see what I could get at these unseasonable hours. I walked my Stations through 
Guzman rec●…s the tricks used by Begg●…rs: And a 〈◊〉 that was put vp●… 〈◊〉.  some streets, & visited many houses, but could get nothing from them, save evil words, giving me foul language, and many a bitter curse, ask me in a Devil's name what I made there? And so roaming about from house to house, I came at last to one, where I knocked at the door with my Staff, but no body would answer me. I knocked the second time, and the third, but all was one. Then I enlarged my voice, and began in the highest key I could reach, to set out my throat, and to beg as loud as I could for my life. For the house was very great, and stood far within, and therefore supposed they could hardly hear me, unless I strained my note a little higher. Whilst I was thus bawling at the door, a roguish Boy of the Kitchen, who (as it should seem) was scouring of Dishes, came just to the same window, under which I directly stood, and threw down upon me a great bucket of scalding water; and when he saw it had fairly lighted upon me, he leisurely utters: Aqua va, quardaos debaxo. Beware water, look to yourselves there below. With that I began to cry out, that all the street did ring of me, grievously complaining, that I was killed by some of that house, and that it was impossible I should live. True it is, that I was scalded, but not in that cruel manner as I made my crimination.  
With this vociferation of mine, and the lamentable exclamation that I made, the people flocked about me, and every one spoke what he thought: One said, it was ill done; another, that it was mine own fault; and that, though myself had no mind to sleep, yet I ought in good manners to suffer others to take their rest.  
There were some others, that did comfort me the best they could, and of those that were somewhat more tender-hearted than the rest, I made a shift to pick up some money amongst them, and with the help of that, I went first where I might dry myself, & afterwards got me home to take my rest; muttering to myself, as I went along, Who (with a pocks) made me so curious, as to go about to remove the River out of his bed? When shall I be able to contain myself? When shall I learn to content myself with that, which shall be fit and necessary for me, without encroaching upon that, which is not convenient for me? What Devil did deceive me, and dr●…w me out of that ordinary track, which I was wont to tread, by making me to be more forward than the rest of my fellows? I drew near at last to mine own lodging, and there hard by dwelled an old poor man, about some threescore and ten years of age; who was borne of beggarly Parents, that had borne Office in our Incorporation, and had left this trade of begging unto him by inheritance, wherewith he made a shift to live, and to pass his life away here upon earth.  
He was of Cordova, there was he borne: Which I the rather tell you, that 
A B●…gger that was a Cordovese, teacheth Guzman many lessons concerning the Art of begging.  you may know that he was died in his wool, a notable Rogue in grain, whom his Mother brought to Rome sucking at her breast, in the year of jubilee.  
When he saw me pass by in that miserable pickle, looking for all the world like a dishclout, all wet, all to be-moyled, foul and full of grease, and all to be spattered with the refuse leaves of Coleworts, and the over-sodden empty H●…sks of Pease, wherewith my garments were embroidered all over; he asked me what had happened unto me? I acquainted him with the whole success of the business. He was ready to burst himself with laughing, and having made himself merry a while at my misfortune, composing his countenance, with a settled kind of gravity, in the end he said thus unto me:  
I fear me (my friend Guzman) that you will prove another Benitillo, you are such a Hotspur, and your young blood boyles so fast within you, that you would fain come to be a Master, before you have attained to be a Scholar. Dost thou not now perceive, that thou hast done ill, in exceeding thy Commission, and in breaking those customs, that are ordered and ordained by the Company? Yet, because thou art my Countryman, and a young Lad (and 〈◊〉 apt to err) I will teach and instruct thee, what thou oughtest to do, and how to behave thyself. Sat thee down by me, and hearken well to that which I shall say unto thee.  
And first of all, I would have thee to consider, That you must not go a begging in the Summer time presently after dinner, when most men are disposed to 
a Sestear, i reposar ala Sombra en la hora de Sexta. Que es la del medio di●…. Y●…r Spaniards▪ generally 〈◊〉 after dinner all the Summer time.  Sestear, and to lie down and take a Nap, in some place of shade, or some cool room; and less at Noble men's houses, than those of your Tradesmen, and Citizens. The hour is im-proper, and unfit, and all of them then either do, or at least are desirous to take their rest. And it would be as strange, as troublesome unto them, that any should then offer to wake them; And importunities, at that time of all other, are most irksome, and unpleasing unto them.  
Next, I would have thee take this Rule of me, (and it is a true one) That when you have called or knocked at one door twice, either there is nobody within, or they will not be within, because they are not willing to answer. When thou perceivest that, get thee gone, and stay there no longer; for thou mayst well lose thy time, but thou shalt get no money.  
Never offer to draw a Latch, or to thrust open a door that is put to, nor to enter within the house. For it happeneth sometime in the opening of a door, that (without the knowledge of those of the house, not once dreaming of any such accident) a dog may suddenly rush fiercely forth upon thee, and carry away half a Buttock at a bit. Nor do I know how these scurvy Curs should come to know us, so well as they do, but I am sure we are hated by them, and they will never let us pass by them, without barking, or biting. And if the Dog should be missing, some desperate roguish Boy or other will not fail to fall upon thee, telling thee that, which thou wouldst be loath to hear. And it is well if thou scape him so.  
When thou beggest for an Alms, thou must not laugh, nor change thy note, but so tune thy voice, that it may carry the show of one that is sick, though thou have health enough for thyself, and some to spare for thy neighbours; having a special care, that your face keep an even correspondence with your eyes; your mouth it's equal and just compass, and your head bending towards your bosom.  
Rub thy face a mornings, when thou risest, with a cloth that is rather dankish, then dung-wet, that when thou goest abroad, thou mayst seem neither fair, nor foul. And on thy clothes, clap many patches, though they be never so hole; and let them be of diverse colours. For it much importeth, that a poor man's clothes should be rather patched, then neat and cleanly; yet so, that they be not so slovenly, as to cause loathsomeness.  
It will sometimes so fall out, that coming to a man to beg an Alms, he will take off his Glove, and put his hand into his pocket, whereof thou wilt be glad, and laugh to thyself, thinking that he hath a purpose to bestow an Alms upon thee, when as in the end thou shalt see him only pull out his Handkerchief to blow his Nose. But for all this, thou must not be angry, nor seem to grumble at the matter, for it may be some other may be by him, which will give thee somewhat, though he do not. Whereas, if he shall perceive thy proud and sullen carriage, he will give thee nothing.  
Where, thou shalt find thyself well used, see thou repair thither daily: For as Devotion shall abound, so shall thy Stock increase. But see, that thou never depart from his door, till thou have prayed for his friends that are deceased, and to entreat of God, that he will be pleased to bless and prosper him in all his Actions.  
Answer evil language, with mild words, and to rough speech, apply soft terms; For thou art a Spaniard, and for our pride (being ill beloved) we are abhorred of all, wheresoever we come; And he that will draw money out of another man's purse, must rather beg, than brawl; crave, than curse; 
Prou. La bezerra mansa, mama de madre agena, y dela suya.  pray, then blaspheme. For a gentle Calf sucks milk from a strange teat, as well as from his damm's.  
When they shall not give thee an Alms, answer with devotion, God be thanked: God bless your Worship, and grant much health, peace, and content to this house, for the great good, and mercy, that you daily do, & show unto the poor. This trick got me a great deal of money; for answering them so gently and ●…o mildly, holding up my hands, and lifting up my eyes unto heaven, they would call me back again, and give me of that they had.  
Besides all this, he taught me how to feign myself a Leper, to make wounds in my flesh, to raise a swelling in my leg, to benumb an arm, to set a counterfeit colour on the face, to alter the whole body, and other curious principles of his Art; to the end that some might not twit us in the teeth, and vpbraidingly say unto us; that our limbs were sound, and ourselves strong and healthy, that we should work for our living, and that it were no charity, to relieve such lusty stout young Rogues. He did me many friendly Offices, he had many curious secrets of nature, whereof he made good use; Nor did he hide any thing from me; for he found me very capable, and apt to receive whatsoever he should put into me; And then he began to say unto me, You see my foot is already in the stirrup to go unto my grave, and I would willingly leave a Chaplain behind me to pray unto God for me. And it fell out true as he said; for within a short time after he died.  
We did some of us meet many times together, to repeat our parts, and to make show, what manner of exclamations would best become us, and make most for our profit; These we studied by night, inventing diverse methodes and forms of benediction. There was a poor man that got his living only by making these forms for us, and did sell them unto us, at the rate of so many Comedies or Tragedies. And all was little enough, and no more than needed, to move mons minds, and to stir them up to compassion.  
On festival days we would be up betimes, where the Pardons and Indulgences were stirring, that we might provide us some good place in the Church; for it was no small benefit unto him, that could get near unto the Font where the Holy-water was, or to that little Chapel, whither they were to make their station.  
We would now and then go a Progress, and run over all the Country, not leaving out a Village, nor so much as a Cottage bordering thereabouts, which we did not go unto; Whence, we came very well furnished: For they would give us Bacon, Cheese, Bread, and Eggs in great abundance, besides clothes to cover our nakedness, pitying very much our poor and miserable condition.  
We would many times beg a draught of Wine for God's sake, complaining much of the pain and weakness of our stomach. As much as you will, would they say, if you have any thing wherein to put it.  
We always carried a little jar with us, under colour of drinking water in it, which held somewhat less than half an Açumbre; They would evermore fill it brimful, before they gave it us; But we were no sooner gone from that door, but we did presently empty it into a 
a Bota, quasi imbuta, of the Latin Verb, Imbuo. It is in brief, a Bottle or Boracha made of Let●…r, to carry Wine in.  Bota, which one of our 
This word is margented before  Company carried behind him at his girdle, which would well hold some four Açumbres. And I remember it was once our hap to fill it full in one street alone, so that we were enforced to go home, and pour it forth into a little earthen vessel (which they call a Tinajuela) and then came back again to get more.  
We usually went shod, but as good have been unshod, our heads covered, but as good have gone bare; So that we had shoes, and no shoes; hats, and no hats; For our shoes were sandal-fashion, old enough, and torn enough, and our hats were suitable unto them; the one would scarce hang on our feet, the other scarce sit on our heads.  
We seldom wore any shirt at all. For, when (according to our accustomed humility) we should crave an alms at such a door, they would ordinarily say, Pardon me (my friend;) I have not for you. God help you. I will give you something at another time. Then we begin anew, and cry; An old pair of shoes, or an old hat (good Master) for this poor soul, that hath never a shoot to his foot to bear him out of the dirt, nor never a hat to defend his head from the Sun and the rain; Gods holy name be praised. The Lord bless your Worship; and deliver your good Worship from such a deal of 
The fashions of Beggars in begging an alms.  misery and wretchedness, as we poor creatures endure. God multiply his blessings upon you, and free you and yours, and all that you have, from the power of Traitors and Villains; Christ jesus guard your Worship, and give you health both of body and soul, which is the greatest wealth of all, and the truest riches.  
If after this he shall reply: Indeed (brother) I have not for you, I can not pleasure you at this time, excuse me.  
Then, upon the neck of that comes another replicant, and he lays about him, beseeching him to bestow upon him some old shirt, though never so ragged and torn, for to cover the ●…esh, and to cure the wounds of this poor miserable man, and that he shall find it again in heaven, and that God will one day cover him again with the clothing of his mercy, and put upon him a newer and a whiter stole of innocence and righteousness, that shall never wear out. I beg it of you for jesus Christ his sake, he knows my wants, and that I am not able to work and labour for my living. The Lord help me; And the Lord reward you. And praised be that pure unspottedness of ou●… blessed Lady the Virgin Mary.  
Now tell me, what heart is there in the world, though of jasper, and what bowels, though as tough as Iron, and as hard as steel, which will not be made malleable with this hammer, and melt into compassion with the heat and warmth of so many good words?  
Few houses did escape us, without some one purchase or other. And never a pair of shoes could be so bad, no hat so vile, and no shirt so old, that was given us, but yield us more than a piece of three pence. To us it was much, but to him that parted with it, of no profit, and less reckoning. It was to us a mine in the 
a I conce●…e 〈◊〉, Serro de Potosi, to be some hill or mountain in the West Indies, being a principal Mine among the rest, that yielded great store of treasure.  Scrro de Potosi: We had Merchantss and Brokers for every one of these things, who would lay us down money for them on the board, perfumed and washed over with the water 
b The Spanish word which is, Aqua de los Angeles, is so called by the Spaniards, because it is of an extraordinary sweetness, distilled out of diverse different flowers, and Aromatical drugs.  of Angels.  
We had upon the way certain little Asses, whereon we did ride by turns, when any store of rain f●…ll, that we might the better pass over the Rivers, when the waters were risen. And if we did light by chance upon any person, that seemed to bear the face of authority, we began to call upon him a far off, many a large step before we came at him to the end that he might have leisure enough to pull out his Purse, and take forth an alms; for if we should stay our begging till we did just encounter each other, many would forbear to give us, lest they might be hindered in their journey, and so we should go without it. And taking this course, we did seldom miss.  
Otherwhiles, when we saw fit occasion and time for it, upon discovery of some company of people that came trooping together, we would prepare ourselves to put on a counterfeit lameness, to fall a halting, and betake us to our Crutches: we would change our looks, alter our countenances, take one another up upon our backs, writhe our mouths, turn the lids and balls of our eyes up to heaven, some feigning themselves dumb, othersome crippled, and blind, making show that we could not go but upon Stilts, when as indeed we were as nimble and light-footed as the Buck. We would clap our feet in a trice in certain Swaths, that hung at our necks for that purpose, and carry our arms in a string, so that with these counterfeit tricks, and the help of good language, desiring God to send them well on their journey, and that he would preserve their limbs, and bless their eyesight, and bring them safe to their journey's end, did always bring us in money. And these we did call our Adventures, because these good fortunes befell us abroad in strange Countries, in places that were desert and unpeopled, and because commonly it succeeded well with us. But otherwise, we did go no farther then what was precisely set down unto us, and was held to be necessary for the performance of our Progress.  
We had one excellent gift above all the rest, That there was not any Feast, where we were not present, getting us some one good place or other; nor any Banquet: whereof we had not a part; Our noses were so good, that we could smell such things some ten streets off.  
We had no house at all, yet every house was ours; For either a Cardinals, an Ambassadors, or some Nobleman's Porch or other did never fail us; And if all, or any of these did fail us, the Church Porches were free, and no body could there put us out. So that having no propriety in any thing, we did not withstanding possess every thing.  
There were some likewise, that had old ruinous Castles, decayed buildings, and other poor lodgings not worth any thing, where we did make our Rendezvous: For all were not permitted to be Adventurers, nor all allowed 
a The Spanish word is Puchero: An earthen Pot, or Pipkin, wherein they boil 'las Puches. Now Puches, is a kind of dressing and seething of meal and Oil together. Which in ancient time, was much used before the invention of baking bread was found out. Latinè, Pultes. Covarrwias. Verb Puches, y Puchero.  Pipkins to boil their meat in; But I (who was but a young stripling) look where I was overnight, I would be sure to be there again the next day; So that albeit I had many times bad lodging, yet my youth bore it out, and it seemed to me as good as the best.   

CHAP. four  
Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of the Charity, that we are to use towards our neighbour; He recounteth what befell him with a Gentleman: And of the free life, and great liberty which a Beggar enjoys.  
ONe true sign, and assured token of our predestination, is the 
A good mark of Predestmation.  Pity and Compassion which we have of our neighbour. For, to have a fellow-feeling of another man's misery, (as if the case were our own) is a deed of Charity, which covereth 
Charity, of what force it is.  a multitude of sins; and where there is love, there is God; and he evermore plentifully dwelleth in those hearts by his holy Spirit, where Charity and mercy aboundeth. All things, with it, have life and being; without it, die, and come to nothing. For, neither the gift of Prophecy, nor the understanding of Mysteries, nor the knowledge of God, no nor Faith itself, without charity, is any thing at all, but is all as nothing. To love my neighbour, as I love myself, is of all other, the richest and the greatest Sacrifice; because it is offered up in 
To love our neighbour, is a great Sacrifice.  the Temple of the everliving God. And the merit is as great (through the mercy of our Saviour jesus Christ) to be truly sensible of our brother's misery and undoing; as is the pleasure that we take, that ourselves should be saved.  
Charity is the end of the Commandments, it is the only mark, whereat 
The charitable man is favoured of God.  the precepts of the Law do shoot. And he that shall be charitable, shall find the Lord merciful unto him in the day of his trial. And because without God, we are not able to merit any thing of ourselves, and for that Charity is the gift of God, it is very fit and necessary, that we should beg it at his hands with tears, and do works worthy the obtaining of it, moistening with those precious drops, the great drought that we suffer in our souls, and mollifying there with the hardness of our hearts, that they may bring forth the fruits of good Works, which are the effects of a true and lively faith. For, the humble and contrite spirit shall never be forsaken, but God will rather still succour and supply him with his grace, bestowing his best favours upon him, and enriching him with many notable and known benefits.  
And albeit Riches (being so near a neighbour as it is unto Pride) be an occasion of Vice, weakening, and enfeebling those our other Virtues, though it be dangerous to its Owner; though it be a tyrannising Lord, and a traitorous Slave; yet notwithstanding it is of the nature of Sugar, which hath this condition 
Riches, compared to Sugar.  and property belonging unto it, that (if it be sweet and good, and hath not lost his favour) with warm things, it warmeth and giveth heat, and with cold things, it cooleth and refresheth. To the rich, it serves as an Instrument and means (by the helping hand of Charity) to buy eternal blessedness. And that man shall be charitable, and truly rich, who making the poor man rich, shall make himself, of a rich man, poor. For thereby, he shall make the world to know, that he is a true Disciple of his Saviour jesus Christ.  
I stood one day in the outward Court of a Cardinal's house, hard by the Porch, closely wrapped and muffled up in a great Russet Cloak, just of the same 
What manner of Cloak Guzman had?  colour as it came from the Sheep's back, without any other Dye in the world: which was so full of Patches, one clapped upon another, which I had sown so of purpose, that (where it had least) it was no less than of three threads, so that you could not at all, or very hardly discern the ground of it's own true colour. It was as hard and as stiff as any board, and for all weathers, far better than your fastest Felt, or your closest-wrought Rug, or any other frized cloth in the world; for it was wondrous warm, and no air, water, nor cold would pass thorough it, and I was about to say (please it you to excuse the excess of the phrase) that no arrow was able to pierce it.  
Whilst I was thus waiting, there comes me in a Cavallero to visit the Cardinal, seeming both by his Person, and his Attendants, to be a Gentleman of principal rank and quality. Who, when he saw me standing there in this manner, thought verily with himself, that I was sick of an Ague, and that I had then my cold fit upon me: when as indeed the cause that I looked so pitiful was, that I had lain there in the Porch the night before; and because it was winter time, and that the air was fresh, and the wind blew cold, I was willing to keep me where I was, till the day had advanced itself a little more forward.  
He looked earnestly upon me, and after he had well viewed me, he stood still, 
A Gentleman sees Guzman, he looks upon him, pi●…es ●…im, gives him an alms, and praiseth God.  and beckoned me unto him. I sneaked out my head, when I came near unto him, and being amazed on the sudden, and much astonished, to see a man of his worth approach so near unto ●…ee, my countenance did come and go, and began strangely to change and alter itself, not knowing why, or wherefore, or what should be the cause of this sudden alteration.  
He (good Gentleman) thought that I did shake and tremble, and kindly said unto me; Put on thy Hat, my Boy, put on, I say, and cover thy head; God comfort thee, and send thee well: And with that putting his hand into his pocket, he took out all that he had, which was a matter of some thirteen Royals and a half, and gave them me. I took them, and was so ravished therewith, that I was almost beside myself, as well in regard of the liberalnesse of the Alms, as to see how he went away from me, lifting up his eyes unto heaven.  
And, I verily believe, that he said to himself, as he went along; Let (O Lord) the Angels bless thee, and all those Courtiers, that wait on thee in thy 
A worthy consideration.  heavenly Kingdom; Let all the spirits of heaven praise and magnify thy holy name, for men do not know how to honour thee, they are rude and ignorant creatures. O Lord, how much am I bound unt thee! that I being made of no better metal than this poor man, and perhaps borne of no better blood than he, should sleep and take my rest in my soft bed whilst he is forced to lie on the hard ground; should go thus well clad as I do, whilst he remains naked, and comfortless; should be thus rich, as I am, and he so poor; that I should be sound, and he sick; I admitted, and he despised: And whereas thou mightst (by exchanging only of our places) have bestowed all that upon him, which thou hast conferred on me; Yet (O Lord) thou hast been pleased to deal otherwise with me; and thou thyself best knowest why, and wherefore. Save me (sweet jesus) by that precious blood, which thou shedst for my sins. For this shall be my true riches, to lay fast hold upon thee: for having thee, I have all things; and not having thee, I have nothing. I say, that this Gentleman knew very well how to employ those Talents, which God had put into his hands; not considering so much to whom he gave, as for whose sake he gave. Looking well upon me, and looking well into himself, weighing my wretched, and his happy condition, he gave me all that he had, with a frank hand, and a free heart; the one being as full of bounty, as the other of compassion.  
Such good souls as these, did (in the exercising of their Charity) gain heaven by our hands, and we (wicked Villains) have lost it by theirs; since, through 
To beg without need, may get us money, but lose 〈◊〉 heaven.  the greedy desire that we have to receive, being still craving & begging when we have no need, we rob those thereof that are in true want, suffering this Vice of ours to usurp upon another's Office. We went still full gorged, greater gluttons and drunkards the world did not afford; our sides were ready to crack with gurmandizing, and our brains to burst with bowzing; your Senators of Rome could not live more merrily than we did, for we were as tall trencher-men, and as good Epicures as the best of them. And albeit we are not so much respected, nor live not in that repute and esteem as they do; yet our manner of life hath a great deal more ease in it, and I am sure, a great deal less trouble.  
And we have besides two such Privileges, as none of them all, no not the best man in Rome hath the like. The one is a kind of liberty that we have 
The great privileges belonging unto Beggars.  in begging, yet nevertheless do not lose our liberty, which is not so with your better sort of men. For misery hath no greater misery with it, then when a man is forced to be beholding to such or such a friend to succour and relieve his wants, though this help should come from the free hand of his own natural brother. For he buys at a dear rate, that receives this kindness; and far more dear does he sell, who gives to him that is of a thankful nature. And if on this point of begging, I might boldly speak my opinion, it is the worstmis fortune, that can befall a poor man's life, when he once comes to be driven to beg out of mere necessity. For although it be freely given, yet the very craving thereof doth cost him much. Moreover, I shall tell thee what is the cause, that begging doth so much vex a man, and why it goes so much against his stomach, which is; That man being a perfect reasonable 
Why it grieves a man's heart to beg.  creature, like unto God himself (as himself saith) for when he was to make man (the most blessed Trinity assisting at that Creation) God said; Let us make Man after our own Image and likeness. (And I could also tell thee, how this is to be understood, but it is not proper for this time and place.) Well, Man was made, and coming forth into the world, we are all of us naturally inclined 
Man, whereunto he is inclined.  to deify ourselves, seeking as much as in us lieth, to come near unto God; nay, (if it were possible) to be gods. And with this thirst, we still grow dryer and drier; and with this hunger, wax weaker and weaker.  
We see, that God created all things: we would fain do the like. And seeing we can not do it, as his divine Majesty did, of nothing, we would do it of something, as far forth as our ability hath power to stretch, seeking to conserve individua Specierum, the individuals of every Species, or several kinds upon earth. The bruit beasts in the Fields; the Fishes, in the Waters; the Plants, in the Earth: And so every thing in its nature, that is in the world. He beheld those works, which he had made with his own hands, and they seemed to him very good, as proceeding from those blessed and powerful hands of his. He took delight in looking upon them, for they were made to his mind. This passeth currant at this day, as it is set down in the letter. And we likewise are desirous to do, or at least to counterfeit the like; striving to imitate him all that we may.  
How well do I like that Bird, that I have bred up in mine own house? That Lamb, which hath been reared in mine own Farm? That Tree, 
Every man loves his own.  which hath been planted in mine own Orchard? That Flower, which hath sprung up in mine own Garden? What comfort do I take in looking upon them? how does it joy me, to see them to thrive and prosper? Insomuch, that what myself have not bred, made, or planted with mine own hands, although it be otherwise very good in itself, I will not stick to pluck it up by the roots, & cast it away from me, & never grieve thereat, it shall never trouble me: whereas that, which is the work of mine own hands; the dear child of my industry; the fruit of my labours, though it be not so good as the other; yet because it is my own handiwork, I like it, & I love it. From my neighbours or my friend's Tree, I will not only take away the Flower, and the fruit, but I will not so much as leave a leaf, or a sprig thereupon, and if I have a mind thereunto, I will not greatly care to cut it down to the ground. But if it be mine own, and that I have planted it with mine own hands, it would grieve my very soul, if I should find but a Pism●…re, or a Caterpillar upon it, to do it any hurt, or to see a Bird but to p●…cke at it; and all because it is mine. In a word, we do all of us love our own works. And so, in wishing well unto them, I am like to him that made me, and have it from him by inheritance.  
The like is true in all other actions. It is very proper in God to give; and 
God's great●…esse, and man's baseness.  very improper, to crave. Unless, when he requireth something of us for our own good. For that which he asketh of us, it is not for himself, neither hath he any need thereof; for he is Remedium totius necessitatis: The only reliever of all o●…r wants, and the only satisfier of the hungry. He hath much, and therefore is able to give much; and nothing can be wanting unto him. He doth communicate and impart unto all according to their several necessities, easilier than thou canst take water out of the Sea, and with a far larger hand; so great an in equality is there betwixt thy misery, and his mercy.  
We would likewise be like to him in this: He made me according to his own likeness, and I ought accordingly to be like unto him; even as the thing instamp●…d aught to be like unto the Stamp. How mad, how eager, how desirous and how foolishly are we all bend upon giving? The Covetous, the saving ●…n the Rich, the Usurer, the Beggar, all do keep and hoard up for to give. But the most of these men understand least (as I told you before) when they are to give, for they do not give, till they be dead. If thou ask these men, why they mass up money, and why in their life-time they bury it under ground, and to what end they do it? Some will answer thee, that they lay it up for their heirs; others, for their souls; others, that they may leave something behind them, and all of them sure that they carry none of it away with them Thou seest then, how they are willing to give and how out of its due time and season; like an untimely birth, which comes not to perfection. But in the end, this is our end, this our desire.  
How God like does a man find himself, when with a generous mind 
To ●…aue w●…ewith to 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 a great 〈◊〉 to a man.  he hath wherewith to give, and doth give? How sweet and pleasing is his hand unto him; how cheer●…full his countenance; how quiet his heart; how contented his Soul? His grey hairs are removed; his blood is refreshed; his life is enlarged. And (questionless) so much the more, by how much he knows, that he hath ability to do it, & is not afraid that he shall ever want. If we be willing therefore to do that, which he did; (for so did he with us) let us take as much pleasure to give, as it would grieve us at the heart to ask.  
And those, towards whom God's hand hath been so frank and liberal. 
A r●…ble spirit cannot beg.  and having made them (which likewise is another particular gift of his) of a noble mind, if they find themselves oppressed with want, and deprived of these their worldly goods, they will rather endure any misery whatsoever, then beg of another to relieve their wretched estates.  
These are the men, of whom there is great pity to be had, and these the 
What kind of alms is nobly bestowed.  whole world ought to relieve with a full hand. For by this it is known, who does them friendship, and shows them any kindness, when seeing them in necessity, they secure them, before they crave their help. For, if they should be put to that push, and be driven to sue unto them, they will neither give, nor lend them. It is a debt which they pay them, and yet put it forth to Usury with advantage. This is a friend indeed, which succours his friend in time of need: And this I call succour, 
* The Spanish phrase, Esse ●…amo socorro, con el que corro. A poor beggar, to whom he may be compared.  when I concur and run along with him. It becomes me to give, but beseems not him to ask. I am to run equal fortunes with him. I must keep an even pace with him, neither be too far behind him, nor too much before him.  
If I have entertained thee too long in this subject, and have not given thee satisfaction, pardon my ignorance, and accept my good will. So that the liberty of craving, is permitted only to the poor; And in this we are equal with Kings and Princes, whose particular privilege it is, to demand Subsedies, and Ayde-money, which is no baseness in them, howsoever it may be in others. But the difference is, that Kings crave of the Commons, for the Common good, and for to supply their necessary occasions; But the poor, for themselves only, out of an evil custom, which they have gotten.  
That other Privilege, which I told you of, is that of the five Senses. Who is he now adays in the world, that with larger licence, and freer liberty doth 
The liberty of the five Senses, by whom most enjoyed.  enjoy them, than the poor man, or with greater security, or more content? Who doth so thoroughly and so feelingly taste them as he? And because I have named the word Taste, I will begin first with that.  
There is not that pot, which we do not skim; nor that meat, which we do not prove; nor that banquet, wherein we have not a share. 
The Taste.  Whither did that poor man ever come, that the house that denied him to day, did not give him to morrow? He runs thorough all men's houses, he begs of them all, and he tastes of all: and he is best able to say, which house hath the best meat, and the best dressed.  
For the Hearing; Who hears more than the poor man doth? For being 
The Hearing.  disinteressed in all kind of things, none are jealous that he should hear them; in the open streets, in private houses, in public Churches, in the Marketplace, and in every place, every man treats freely of his business, without any suspicion of him, though the matter be never so important. Sleeping besides a nights, upon some bulk or stall in the streets, what music have they bestowed upon them, which we hear not? What Love-tricks are they privy to, which we know not? Nothing is kept secret from such poor beggarly Rascals as we be. And for public affairs, we have by a thousand parts better intelligence, than all the world besides. For we hear that treated of in more parts, than all men else besides put all together.  
For your seeing likewise: how freely may we enjoy it, without being noted? nor ask us the question why we gaze upon them, nor offer to hinder us from 
The Seeing.  looking here, or looking there. How often have I accused and condemned myself, when begging in the Church, mine eye hath been wand'ring and roving about? and chuckt and hugged myself, with the delight and pleasure that I have taken therein? Or to speak downright English, and to declare myself more plainly, feeding mine eyes greedily on those Angelical faces of your finest Ladies, whose Lovers did not dare to look upon them for fear of being noted: all which was freely permitted unto us.  
For matter of smelling; Who can smell better than we, who are called by the name of Smell-Feasts? Besides, if any smell be so much the better, by 
The Smelling.  how much it is the more profitable; to us, our own Amber, and our own Musk, is better and truer than all the rest, which is a clove of Garlic, which ordinarily we never go without; as being a Preseruative against all contagious corruption whatsoever. And if we be desirous of any other odours, we then get us to the corner of some one street or other, where these things are commonly sold, and there we satisfy our sense of smelling with the sweet perfume of jerkins, and of Gloves, some civited, and some powdered, that are there laid out for show, till the dust and powder of them come flying into our eyes, and our nostrils.  
Will you happily say, that the sense of Touching is wanting unto us? And 
The Touching.  that never any good thing came yet to our hands? Lament your ignorance. What such difference I pray, is there betwixt poverty and beauty? We poor beggar's touch and handle as good ware as the rich, and enjoy as pretty Commo●…ties; but all men do not understand this Mystery. There be some poor men, which for all their beggary and poverty, maintain such a handsome Doxy as many a gre●…t rich man woul●… be glad to enjoy with all his heart. And yet she had rather have this poor man, that doth truly pay her her Tribute, and is not wanting unto her in his love, than a rich man, that shall defame, and misuse her. And how often have some women given me an alms with their own hand (I know not what others have done) but I out of my youth, would make bold to take hold of hers with mine; and in a kind of devout acknowledgement, would never let it go, till I had kissed it?  
But these are but toys to speak of, and mere fooleries, but above all these things the taste, the sight, smelling, hearing, and touching, the chiefest and truest of all the five Senses, put them all together, was that of those ruddy cheeks of your golden Ruddoc●…s your Spanish Pistolets, your plum●… and fulfaced Portuguse, and your cleere-skinned pieces of eight of Castille, which we kept secret to ourselves, and did privately enjoy in a plentiful manner; For to have them, for to pay them away is not to enjoy them; To enjoy them, is 
To have money, to pay it again away, is not the enjoying of money.  to have them lying by us. having no other need of them, then to use them for the clearing of the eye sight, and the comforting of our senses. Howbeit, some stick not to say, 〈◊〉, nuncase goza, hasta que se gasta. That he enjoys not his money, that does not spend it. These we did carry about with us, sewing them in some patches of our doublets near unto the heart, and as close to the skin, as we could handsomely quilt them in, holding them to be restorative. There was not anyone piece of a patch about us, were it never so soul and never so vile, which was not worth a reasonable good suit of clothes. We were all flush and f●…ll of gold; For, having our diet gratis, and feeding on free cost, the money which we got, we never spent. And as the Proverb is; Esse te rizo v●…o, que te hizo el pico; He made thee rich, who 
Proverb. Petit à petit l'offeau faict son nid.  gave thee whereon to pick. And grano à grano, hincha la gallina el Papa. Graine after grain, the Hen fills her craw. We grew many of us to increase our Talon, till it came to a good round sum, where with many an honest man might have lifted his feet from the ground, & not have stuck in the mire. Rest thyself a while in this Inn; for in that our journey, which we are to make to the Chapter following, you 〈◊〉 all hear what happened in Florence to a poor man that died there, of the same time and standing with myself. Wherein you shall know, whether our Touching be not as good as other men's.   

CHAPTER V.  
Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of the quality of men's Consciences, and recounteth what happened in his time to a notable Rogue, and famous beggar in Florence, who at his death made the great Duke his heir. He treats of the ambitious man; And delivers in the end, how he was thrust out of Gaeta for his counterfeiting.  
IT is a very ordinary thing with your poorer sort of people, to become Plotters and Contrivers, watching night and day, and beating their brains, to seek out some poor means how to live, that they may not go a begging from door to door, and still to lie (like Lazarus) at rich men's gates for relief, and yet starve perhaps in the end for want of a morsel of bread. This every where befalls poor folks. They (poor souls) are put to their shifts. And albeit it be said; that in matter of cruelty, Italy bears the bell; and in Italy, those more particularly that are in, and about Genoa; yet I am not of belief, that the fault lies so much in 
The proudest, and hardest-harted people in Italy, are your Genoveses.  the soil of that place, as in the necessity, and covetousness of the people. I mean those, that are of the right stamp, your miserable and hard-hearted Usurers, whom they that are the native Citizens, and natural Inhabitants of those parts, call by way of Nickname, Moros blancos, white Moors. Now they, to revenge themselves of them, and to return it 
a The Spanish phrase is, Echarles 'las cabras. Now, Echar 'las cabras, is; when many having played together, who should win or lose, when they did rifle for any thing, there should be two losers, and that they might not part or divide, but that one should pay all, and the other scape scot-free, they return again to play. And this they call Echar 'las cabras. Alluding to that which shepherds use to do, when they make a merry-meeting, and ha●…e killed some Goats to make a feast, who play who shall pay for all, laying the loss upon the two last. Covarrwias. Verb Cabra. Conscience lost by whom, and how?  home upon them again, say, Que quien descubre la 
b Alcavala is a Tribute, Tax, Tole, or Subsedi●…. The common people have a tale, That King Don Alonso the Wise, holding a Parliament at Burgos, said unto the Procurators, Dadme gente, delque v●…la. And from thence comes Alcavala, A supply of moneys, which they gave him.  alcavala, esse la paga. Let him pay the toll, that first invented it. For this was not (say they) spoken of them, nor is it so to be understood; but of those great Dealers and Negociators of Genoa, who carry their consciences in torn pockets, that are ripped and unsewed, whereby they quickly come to be lost, and scarce one amongst them all, that hath a good and a sound conscience. But one said, that this was not so, but would needs fetch the water a little farther off, that should drive this Mill; And therefore (said he) it was thus: That when the Genoveses send forth their children to school, they carry their consciences along with them, there at first they begin to play with them, then to wrangle and fall out about them; some forgetting that ever they brought any thither with them; and others (having lost them there at play) leave them behind them, and never think on them after.  
Now, when the school comes to be swept, and these Consciences be found again, they give them to the Master, who carefully lays them up in a Chest, and there locks them up close, that they may no more be lost. And he that hereafter shall have need of one (if he can call to mind where he either left it, or laid it aside) he were best go seek it out himself, to see if he can light on the right one.  
Now, because the Schoolmaster hath the keeping of so many, and so mixed one amongst another, that he doth not know which is which, he gives him that which comes first to hand, and so the party goes away with it, thinking verily that it is his own Conscience, that he carries thus away with him, when as indeed it is not his, but either his friends Conscience, or his kinsman's, or some one or other of his acquaintance. And hence it comes to pass, that no man, bearing his own Conscience in his own bosom, every man looks and pries into that of another man's. And ever since that time, hath this ill report run of them.  
O Spain, Spain, my beloved Country, Faith's true keeper, God uphold thee with his hand: And as thou hast much of this in thee; so likewise, thou hast thy Schoolmasters too, that truck one conscience for another; and men, as well as they, that having chopped consciences, go away well contented, presuming all is right and straight, and that that which they have is their own.  
How many forgetful of themselves, busy themselves in those things, which 
Wholesome lessons for our Consciences.  appertain not unto them? How unadvisedly reprehend, solicit, and censure another man's conscience? My friend, this ought not to be so; Look well into thyself, withdraw this chopping and changing: First, throughly examine thine own, do not seek for a mote in another man's eye, till thou hast pulled the beam out of thine own: and then thou wilt tell me another tale.  
That which thou thinkest is a discharge to thy conscience, is a mere jest, 
To let other men's consciences alone, and to look into our own.  and an idle toy, & therein thou dost but put a jest upon thyself. Do not cloak thy sin (thou Usurer) saying; Such a one is a greater Usurer than I am: Nor seek to excuse thyself, by saying; Such a man is a worse thief than myself. Meddle not thou with another man's conscience; let that alone, and look well into thine own. This is that which concerns thee; This is that which imports thee most. Let every man put that away from him, that is not his own; and wherewith he hath nothing to do. Let him not meddle nor make with it. Let him not settle his eyes upon other men's sins, but cast them aside off. For it is neither the Idolatry of Solomon, nor the Sacrilege of judas, that shall excuse the like in thee: But every man shall bear his own burden, and receive such punishment, as his own sin hath deserved. Why dost thou incline, and lean unto that, which is not only ill, but also hurtful unto thee? Why dost thou not rather imitate that, which is good, and virtuous? following the example of him that fasteth, confesseth, communicateth, repenteth him of his sins, and performeth many other actions of holiness, and of a good and honest life? Is he peradventure more man than thou art? Thou forbearest (like him that is sick) to take that, which should cure thy sickness, and do thee good; and feedest on that, which impaireth thy health and doth thee hurt. I therefore assure thee, and give thee my honest word, that it will make much for thy salvation, acordarte de ti, y oluidarte de mi, to forget me, and to think on thyself.  
Amongst those many Schools for little children, and those many Schoolmasters, 
seville, of all other Cities, the richest for Consciences.  which have the keeping of Consciences, (howbeit, as I say, no City, Town, nor Village escapes them in all the world) seville is the only place for my money; and therein, those that embark themselves to pass the Seas. For, the most part of them, as if their Consciences, were of that great burden and extraordinary weight, that they were able to sink both the Ship and themselves, do●…ither leave their consciences at home in their own houses, or with their Hosts, to keep them for them till their return. And if afterwards they chance to recover them again, (which in my opinion is a hard matter, for that the Country is very spacious and large, where there is no such great reckoning made of these things) it is well and good; if not, they do not greatly care; or if they take them with them, and leave them there behind them, as little, if not less. And for this reason, Conscience goes a begging in that City, in regard of the great store and plenty of that commodity; because those that left them there behind them, when they went away to the Indies, or some other far place, did never return back again to fetch them.  
I will not offer to walk in the Exchange, nor the Burse, nor have any thing to do in the street of San Françisco, nor hazard a drowning in the Sea. Let all traffic (for my part) be laid aside; Let there be no trade driven, no commerce had, no buying nor selling, nor exchanging of commodities. For I fear me, if I should once begin to be a dealer therein, I should never be able to give it over. But let me hear make a full point, taking this only as but a note by the way, and not think so much on what I say, as what I would have said, and shall perhaps say hereafter when I see my time. And so I will proceed to my promised Story.  
There was a certain man, that was borne near unto Genoa, a person of 
The Story of Pantalon, Casteleto, a Genovese, and poor Beggar in Florence.  great account, for his rare invention, and subtleness of wit. His name was Pantalon Casteleto, a poor Beggar, who, for that he was married in Florence, and his Wife had borne him a son, after that the Mother was delivered of this child, the Father went plotting and devising, how he might leave him well to live, without tying him to serve any man, or to bind him apprentice to any trade or occupation.  
It is commonly spoken there amongst them by way of Proverb: 
a Dichoso el hijo, que tiene à so padre en el infierno. De malè quae. sitis, vix gaudet tertius haeres.  Happy is that son, whose father goes to Hell. Howbeit, I count him unhappy. For it is not possible, that should thrive with him, which he left him, nor that it should come to the enjoying of a third Heir. This is my opinion. For, to leave his child well provided for, he provides ill for himself; and to make him, mars himself. For he can not but run his soul's hazard, who hunts after ungodly gain.  
And albeit he were married, and had the charge of a Wife, (but this is a particular benefit, and a large Theme to treat of, that one Beggar should marry with another, and be both of one profession) they had (God be thanked) reasonable well wherewithal to live; they wanted nothing, that they had need of, and sufficient store of wealth they had besides, to leave unto their heir, in some competent measure, especially for one, that was of so mean a condition as he was.  
But this man would not put himself upon Fortune. But had entertained 
The cruelty of a Father.  in his imagination, one of the greatest and most unnatural cruelties, that the wit of man could devose. He maims me this his poor innocent Infant, (as many more of all Nations do in those parts:) where, when they beyong and tender, they writhe their joints, and break their bones, making them as pliable as Wax; then taking them in hand anew, moulding them after this, or that manner, as they have most mind unto, forming and fashioning of them (I know not) into how many monstrous shapes, and ugly postures, only to move the people to take the more pity and compassion of them.  
With these abused Babes, whilst they are little, they get wherewithal to line in their old age; and afterwards, thus maimed and mangled as you see, they leave them a good patrimony. But this wicked Rogue, for his greater increase of gain, would martyrise this poor tender Infant, with new kind of torments; He did not put him to these cruel tortures all at once; but still as he grew in years, so did he vary and change them, as men shift their Shirts, or change their Baths, one dry, and the other wet; till he had left him thus carved and engraven, as I have painted him forth unto you.  
Some natural gifts he had, that his father either did not, or could not touch. So that notwithstanding this his unhappiness, he had a very happy wit, and was a good Speaker, and his words became him very well. But that which he had from his Father, which was his outward flesh, to begin first with his head, he had writhed it in that sort, that it seemed to be set quite backwards, his face falling on t'one side upon his right shoulder. That both beneath, and above the lids of his eyes, was all one overgrown lump of flesh: the forehead and the eyebrows scorched and burned with a thousand wrinkles: He was crooke-backed, his whole body like a Bottom of Yarn, all one lump, without any shape or fashion, of any one part, that might style him man: His feet turned backwards, and perching up over his shoulders, being dis-jointed, and withered. The only sound parts that were about him, were his arms, and his tongue. The one left him to talk, the other to take. He went, as if he had been clapped into a Cage, being thrust into a little kind of wooden Chest, set and made fast to a little Asses back, which he did rule and guide with his hands; save that to get up or down, he was fain still to seek for some help, which he did seldom or never miss of, having one or other ever at hand for that purpose.  
He was, (as I told you before) a pleasant conceited fellow, had a good wit of his own, and many good things should you hear to come from him. Besides, he went so tottered, so torn, and in that ragged and wretched manner, that all Florence took pity of him, and as well for his poverties sake, as for those good parts that were in him, they gave him much Alms, wherewith he was well relieved.  
After this manner, he lived some seventy and two years, or much thereabouts, at the end whereof he fell into a grievous sickness, whereof he certainly knew, that he should dye.  
Seeing himself at this point, and that he now stood upon the jump of his Salvation, or Condemnation; being (as he was) very discreet, he began to consider a little better of the matter, thinking with himself, that it was no time now to jest, but rather to confess his sins, and to send for the Pa●…son of the Parish and to make his Will. Which as it was to be the last that ever he was to make so was he careful to make it as strong & as good as the strength of his wit could devose. He desired, that a known Confessor of his might be sent for; one, that was a very learned man, & in very good esteem, as well for the honesty of his life and conversation, as for his learning and manners. With him he treated touching his sins, and fully imparted his mind unto him. And when he had communicated what he thought fit unto him, he was very desirous to have his Will made, but with the shortest, and most compendious words, that possibly could be imagined. And the beginning being drawn, (which belonged to the public Notary to do) what was fit on his part, he briefly thus sets it down.  
Inprimi●…, I recommend my Soul unto God, who created it, and my body to the earth, to be buried in mine own Parish. 
Pantalons' last will and Testament. The Duke made his sole heir●… and Executor.   
Item, My Will is, that my Ass be sold; which money shall be bestowed upon my burial. But the Packsaddle I bequeath unto the great Duke my Lord and Master, to whom it rightly appertaineth, and properly belongs, whom I nominate to be my sole Executor, and make my general and universal Heir.  
This done after that he had settled and sealed this his last Will and Testament of that his indisposition anon after he died. And because every man 
Pantalon dy●….  held him to be a merry-conceited fellow, and one that was full of his witty jests, they did all verily think, that he would make his death equal with his life, and shut up his last breath with some odd jest or other for a farewell, as it usually befalls such kind of giddy-headed fools, when they once take a toy in the head, and are wedded to their humour.  
But when the great Duke understood of this Will, (which was not long kept from his knowledge) having formerly heard of the Testator, and that he was held to be a wise and discreet man, he did from thence collect, that this 
The Duke sends for 〈◊〉 Legacy.  Clause was not without its mystery. Whereupon he gave order that this Legacy he had left him, should forthwith be brought unto the Palace, and when he had it before him he common led it to be ripped in sunder, piece after piece, and still as they went along, they took forth diverse different sorts of coin; and when they had sorted out these several kinds of moneys (which were all in good gold) they amounted in the whole to three thousand and six hundred Spanish Crowns, every Crown bearing the full value of four hundred Maravedis. This poor man, whether he had consulted with his Confessor or no, I know not; or advised with himself, which is not unlikely; It seemed he thought with himself, that that was none of his, and that he had no other means to make restitution, then to leave it to the natural Lord of that Signory, who had the charge of all the poor committed to his care, and with this he conceived he had discharged his Conscience. The great Duke being so powerful and so noble a minded Prince as he was, gave order to have this Will entered, and to remain upon record to after-ages, and that the Legacy that he had given him, should be employed for the good of his soul's health; Wherein he showed himself a worthy Executor, but a far more worthy Gentleman.  
What say you now to the feeling of this poor Beggar? What think you of his sense of Touching? Thine is far short of it, nor half so good and delightful as this, though thou shouldest enjoy the embracements of another Venus. Of these two Privileges (before specified) we were the sole and only Lords, for none besides us, did enjoy them so freely, as we did; together with many other liberties and immunities which (if I list) I were able to relate unto thee.  
When I do but think upon those times, which I enjoyed heretofore, and the merry life that I then led, which is all now past and gone with me, (not that i either long or look for any more such happy days or that I would call them to mind, to make me forget my miseries,) or whether the recordation of them did make those sorrows seem either greater or less, which I suffered in the Galleys, I will not now dispute; but sure I am, that I take great delight in the remembrance of them: As that having of our Table still provided for us; our bed ready made to our hands; our Chamber without encumbrance; our Scrip well furnished; our goods about us; our stocks sure on foot, without fear of thieves, or any dread of rain, without Aprill's care, or May's fearful jealousy, which two are the husbandman's moth: Not troubling our heads with new fashions, with the pomp of apparel, with ceremonious compliments, and the like froth of fooleries, scummed out of foreign Countries: Living without the prevention of flatteries, without the composing of Lies, scorning to get either money, or to seek to grow into credit by such base insinuations.  
How would we suffer that men might the better esteem of us? How visit 
Artifices to win Opinion.  them, that they might not forget us? How attend them, for to bind them unto us? What occasions would we not seek out, that we might come to speak with them, and be seen by them? How early would we be stirring, to the end they might think we were careful and solicitous how to live? And evermore the more early up, the colder and sharper the weather was. And every one of these had its pleasure and delight, for the ends for which they were done.  
How often would myself fall a discoursing of other men's houses and their gentility, only of purpose to set my own I edigree afoot, and to show that I was a Gentleman well descended? How often would I discover another man's defect, and find fault with it, and only to this end, that by taxing such a vice in another, I might be thought to be free from the same myself? How often would I hold conversation, only for ostentations sake, and no other end in the world? How would I wheel about, and fetch in things a far off, only to vent my wit, and to make my words to take place? To what good meetings did not I go? I was the only Cock there that crowed low dost; and when I went away from them, and left their company, they would not censure me, as I would them, but let me alone.  
O these conventicles of lewd Company, these meetings, where men's mouths fall a murmuring and traducing of others! o how large a History would it require? Who is able to express, how ill it beseems a Gentleman, to be the Tailor that must cut out such ill work? There is no Clergy man, whose 
a The Spanish word is Loba: that i●…, Vestidura clerical, ●…alar, que llega al suelo, cortada à todo ruedo con golpes para sacar los braços. Es vesti●…ura honorifica. Este uso se conserua en la Capilla real. Han le dado varias ●…mologias, y ●…ntre las d●…mas, una, que por comer tanta tela, la llamaron, Loba. P●…rò su ●…timologia trae Origen del number Gri●…go 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 genero de vestidura, quae hominem ambit, ut cortex, & tunica arbo●…em. y puede ser Hebreo, del verbo labas, endure y as●…i Valdra, indumen●…m. Covarrwias.  Surplice they will not cut; Nor honest woman, whose 
b The Spanish word is, Saya, which is that garment, which a wom●…n wears from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 downward. The 〈◊〉ed condition of Pretenders. Guzman plays the 〈◊〉 in Gaeta. 〈◊〉.  Kirtle they will not make a hole in. They cloth the Saint and the sinner after a large kind of fashion. But let it rest as it is; if we live, we shall be served with the like sauce. By how strait a Rule, by how even a Line, and by how just a Compass, must that Pretender carry himself, who is to sail thorough the sea of this world, hoping for a fortune from another man's hand? If it be good, how slowly doth it come? if bad, how soon doth it light upon us? And the Scale can never be made so upright and even, but that there will be something wanting of its true weight. And the better a man deserves, oftentimes he fares the worse. If a man have not a mind to do●…-him good, every Molehill is made a mountain, and every the least obliquity, is observed and noted in him. If he speak much, (though never so well,) he is too lavish of his words; If little, he is too short and obscure, and knows not how to express himself. If of high and dainty things indeed, he is too rash, and too presumptuous; and vndertak●… to discuss those things, that are too deep for his understanding. If of things of lesser consequence, and of a lower strain, he is too shallow, and hath no stuff in him. If he humble himself, he is base; if stand upon his worth, he is proud: if he will fight and take no wrong, he is ill governed, and a Roister; if pocket a wrong, and hold his hands, he is a coward: if he have a bold look, he is impudent; if a modest countenance, he is an hypocrite; if he laugh, he is condemned of levity; if grave, he is counted a Saturnist: if affable, slightly regarded; if austere, mightily abhorred: If just, cruel; if merciful, a silly sheep.  
Now against all these and the like cavils (which are no small misfortunes) the poor have a Passport, as being Lords of themselves, free from all taxes and tallage. They are out of the Gun-shot of their Competitors, they quietly enjoy their life, without being troubled with Promoting Knaves to inform against them; snipping Tailors to take them short; or snarling dogs to snap at their good name.  
Such was my happy condition, if Time and Fortune (consumers of all things on earth, who suffer not things to continue in one and the selfsame estate) had not tumbled me down from this height of my happiness; declaring by the colour of my countenance, and the Soundness of my limbs, that I was rich in health, and not so maimed, nor so poor, as I made myself to be, by my pitiful moans and lam●…ntations.  
For, as I was sitting one day a b●…gging of alms, in the City of Gaeta, hard by the Church porch, whither (out of curiosity) I would needs go to see if their charity and devotion did equal that of Rome? There I sat bare, made show of my head unto them, (for I was but newly come thither, and had not as yet fitted myself with necessaries) so that I was forced on the sudden to ●…ake use of a kind of scur●…, that I had clapped thereon; in the counter feiting whereof, I was excellent cunning. The Governor of the Town coming to Church, as he passed along by me, casts his eye upon me, & gave me an alms. With this trick, I passed reasonable well for a while. But because, la Codiçia, 〈◊〉 sa●…, too much covetousness makes the bag to break; and I had not the wit to see when I was well; I thought fit upon a Festival day to appear in public with some new invention. I had my preparatives ready, my provision at hand, I set them before me, and then dressed me such a leg, that was very well worth more, than a very good Vine-yard. This was the farm that I meant then to live upon.  
Well, away go I to Church with it; there I began to stretch my throat, and to thunder out my voice, ever and anon lifting up the cloth with a tender finger, to show unto them, what a grievous sore leg I had, wherein I was so ready and so perfect, that I had need of no body to teach me my lesson. But whether it were my ill luck, or mine own indiscretion, (for from ignorance and foolishness, all your mischances for the most part proceed) I cannot tell which to impu●…e it to: But certain I am, I should not have sought to have eat better bread than is made of Wheat, nor have gone a chopping of horses in so small a Village. I might have kept me still to my scabbed head, and have passed well with it, (for it found me meat to put in my mouth) and not have gone seeking after new tricks, and new inventions.  
The Governor came that day unto the Church to hear Mass, and because he knew me, he willed me to rise, saying unto me: Come along with me, and 
The Governor of Gaeta cures Guzman of his sore leg, and how he did it.  I will bestow a shirt on thee to put on thy back. I did believe him, and went along with him to his Lodging. If I had but known before how he would have used me, he should not have reached me with the best Culuerine he had, nor have made me to come within his clutches, with all his fair words, nor all the wit in his head. But when he had me there, and saw I was safe for getting from him, he looked me steadily in the face, and said unto me; Thy colour being so fresh, thy skin so clear, thy body so sound (for thou art fat plump, and fair, thy complexion good, thy limbs strong, and the rest of thy skin smooth and sleek) how comes it to pass that this thy leg is as it is? Me thinks this doth not suit and hang well together with the rest.  
I answered him, but with a troubled kind of delivery: Sir, I know not; it hath pleased God it should be so. Presently he knew thereupon upon what leg I halted, he had found me out; whereupon I had an eye to the door, to see if I could show him my heels, and get away from him. But I could not, for the door was made fast. He wille●… a Surgeon to be sent for, that he should search my wound, and see what I ailed. He came and looked, and looked upon it again and again, and at last very leisurely and tenderly went to work with me, with a soft and gentle hand, as never a Lady in the land could more handsomely have gone about it. At the first it did somewhat puzzle him, for he knew not what to make of it, but within a little while after he saw his error, & then he told the Governor; Sir, this Youth hath no more hurt in his leg, than I in mine eye; and that you may perceive it is so, I will plainly demonstrate it unto you. With that he began to unswathe me, and taking off rag after rag, and such slibber-slabbers as I had bedawbed it withal, he made my leg to appear as whole as any fish, as indeed it was.  
The Governor blest himself, and stood amazed to see me in that manner, but that which did astonish him most, was how I should have the aptitude and wit to do such a thing as this. I was in a trance, and ready to swoon, not knowing what either to say or do. And if my youth had not borne me out, none but God could have freed me from exemplary punishment.  
But this youth of mine did reserve me for greater chastisement. And in stead of the shirt which he promised me, he sent for the Beadle of beggars, and there (in his presence) willed him to give me a stripped Doublet, which I was to wear under that torn one which I had to my back. Commanding me, that I should presently pack out of the City, and come there no more. Which command, though he had not laid it upon me, I should have been careful to see it performed myself; for I would not have stayed there, if he would have made me Lord of Gaeta. I got me away full of fear, trembling and quaking, shrinking up my shoulders, looking ever and anon behind me, being jealous and suspicious, that if they should chance to bethink themselves, that they had not given me sufficient payment, they would make after me, and bring me to a stricter account.  
Hereupon I hastened away as fast as my legs would carry me, making no stay, till I came into the Pope's Territories: Calling my Rome still to mind, 
Rome commended by Guzman.  and throwing a thousand blessings upon it; for there, they did not stick upon trifles, nor did not busy themselves to examine colours, but let every man (without more ado) make the best of his living. To conclude, Tierra larga: a large Country for my money. Let me live (to choose) in a spacious Country, where a man may have Sea-room enough, and not be driven to run through narrow straits and Creeks, sailing still in the Channel, where there is few fetching of boards, nor any danger of being cast away upon the Coast: Whereas, in your narrow Seas, every little gust of wind, every small flaw, or least tempest in the world, will cast you upon Quicksands, or throw you upon the Rocks, till you be either swallowed up, or dashed in pieces.   

CHAP. VI  
Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of Alms: And being returned to Rome, he falls afresh to his old Trade of begging. He feigns himself to have a sore l●…gge. A Cardinal taking compassion of him, taketh order, to have him cured in his own house, and to be laid in his own bed. He discovers the knavery of Surgeons, having a bad conscience: And how being cured, he becomes the Cardinal's Page.  
IT is a known and natural truth; That those that are young, are very unbiased in your choicer sort of things, which require gravity, and carry any weight with them: Not for any defect of understanding, but for want of Wisdom, which requireth experience; and that experience, Time. As 
Wisdom, gotten by Time.  your green fruit, that is not come to its ripeness, hath not any perfect relish, but is tart, and sour; so a young man, before he come to his maturity, lacks his true taste, and fails in the speculation of things, and comes short of the true knowledge of them. And therefore, it is no wonder if he err; but 'twere rather a wonder, if he should not err. Notwithstanding, 
A great wonder if youth should not ●…rre.  he that hath good natural parts, is commonly more capable of these considerations, and readier to receive the impression of them.  
This I know by myself; for many times, the greatness of my Spirit did transport me far beyond that which sorted with my years; setting (as the Eagle doth with her young ones) my eyes fully fixed against the Sun of Truth; considering with myself, that all my cunning tricks, and sundry manner of deceive, was but a kind of cozening myself, by seeking to rob him, that was truly poor and in need, maimed, and not able to work, to whom those Alms did of right belong. For the poor man indeed never deceiveth, nor can he so do, though it be his end so to do. For he that giveth, regardeth 
A poor man neither doth, nor can deceive.  not to whom he giveth; and he that beggeth, is that Quayle-pipe or whistle, that calls those Birds unto him, whilst he sits securely on his perch. The Beggar, with the Call and cry of his lamentations, receiveth the Alms, which he converteth to his profit, taking God in his mouth, whereby he makes him the debtor, binding him to repay it. On the one side I was glad, when they gave me any thing; On the other side, I did quake and tremble, when I took account of mine own life. For I assuredly knowing, that that was the way to my condemnation, I was bound to make restitution, as did that Florentine. But 
What kind of poor are bo●…d to make 〈◊〉.  when I did sometimes see and observe, that some powerful and rich men would curiously put themselves to search in every corner of their purse, for to look out a poor Blank, a single-soled piece of money (God he knows) and had there been a less coin, I think they would have been well enough contented with it to give unto the poor, I could by no means endure it, my blood would rise at it, and I was ready to lose all patience. And even now (me thinks) whilst I am now speaking of it, my buttons swell; the coals of my choler; revive and quicken afresh, and such a fury of rage assaileth me, and sets me on against them, that I cannot contain myself, but must needs say something, though I know what, nor where to begin.  
Hearest thou me (thou my rich friend) a●…t thou not yet wearied out, or waxen deaf, with so often hearing what hath been said unto thee, (it having been 
An admoni●…on to the rich to be liberal in their A●…s.  so often beaten in thine ears, and inculcated unto thee) that whatsoever thou shalt do for any poor body, that shall beg an Alms of thee for God's sake, thou dost it for God himself, and he isty'de unto thee for the same, and stands bound for the payment, by taking the debt upon him, and making that his own, which is another man's? We that are poor, are like a Cipher in Arithmetic, which of itself is nothing, but with the addition of a figure is something, and the number is still the more, the more cyphers are set before those figures. If thou wilt stand for ten, set a poor man by thee, and see how many the more poor men thou shalt relieve, & how many the more Almsdeeds thou shalt do, they are as so many figures, to make up a greater reckoning for thee with God, when thou shalt be called before him to make thine account.  
What shouldst thou stick upon the matter, and begin to debate and consider with thyself, whether I get or not get, whether men give me, or give me not? But do thou give me that which I ask thee, if thou hast wherewithal and art able to do it. And if not for God's sake, which commands thee to do it, yet out of that natural affection, which thou owest unto me. And do not flatter thyself, or so much as offer to think, that the wealth which thou injoyest, and the riches that God hath given thee, is; That thou art better Wool than we; but that thou art better carded. And he that made thee thus fine, and me thus course; by giving to thee, and taking from me, may change hands, and may bestow his blessings upon whom he please, and on such as he shall think worthy thereof, and shall do more good with it; then thou dost. Be not a pryer into the poor, nor too strict an examinant: demur not what thou shalt do for him, stand not a hinching and a crinching with him; for if thou look well into thyself, thou wilt find Covetousness to be the cause of all this, and that they are but mere excuses, because thou wouldst not give him any thing, and so shift him off from thee: I know it is so; and therefore let me persuade thee (for thine own good) to enlarge thy mind, and that will make thee to enlarge thine Alms. And for this end, as also that thou mayst see the good effect of Alms, hear that, which Sofronius rrecounteth, cited by Canisius, a very learned man.  
A Widow-woman, having one only Daughter, being a very fair and beautiful Damsel, Zenon the Emperor fell mightily in love with her, and 
The Emperor Zenon, a great Almes-giver.  was exceedingly enamoured of her; and by force (quite against her will, and utterly with her dislike) he deflowered her; and with a strong and tyrannous hand, kept her, and enjoyed her.  
The Mother of this Maiden, finding herself much afflicted for this her so much wronged and abused Daughter, bearing great devotion to a particular Image of our Lady, as often as she presented herself there before it, she would still recommend this her cause unto her, saying; O blessed Mary, O sweet Virgin, I here upon my knees beg revenge and punishment for this force and affront, which that Tyrant Zenon the Emperor hath, and doth still offer us. It is said, that she heard a voice, which spoke thus unto her; Thou hadst 
The effect of Almsdeeds.  been long ago ere this revenged on him, if the Almsdeeds of the Emperor had not bound our hands.  
Lose thou thy hands, that are too fast bound; stretch them out to t●… poor, and help them therewith (as well as thou canst) out of the misery, wherein they lie. For it is thy duty so to do, it is required at thy hands; and it much more concerneth thee to give an Alms, than the other to receive it. God did not so much make the rich man for the poor, as the poor man for the rich. Not so much for his, as for thy good. And therefore do not thou stand off, and entertain thyself with saying, One man merits more than another; This deserves somewhat, and this not. There is but one God, and they ask of thee in his name; to him thou dost give it. All is one, thou art to make no 
The necessities of the poor cannot be truly known by us  difference. Thou canst not understand, how much another man's necessity doth wring him, nor is it possible that thou shouldst come to know it. It is the outward man only, that thou canst judge of. And thou thinking, that such a man is sound and in health, it is not fit (as thou supposest) that thou shouldest give him an Alms.  
Do not seek starting holes, to hide away thy Devotion; seek not excuses, to put away the poor from thee; leave that to their Lord and Master, thou hast no Commission to examine them; it is not given thee in charge. There are other judges, to whom this scrutiny belongeth. And if, looking upon me, thou wilt let thy judgement slip, and say, that God hath been too slack and negligent in punishing of me; Consider, that the selfsame God hath done the like by others.  
Do not (O thou man of evil bowels, thou unmercifull-minded man) do not thou, I say, lie in wait to do mischief. The Ambush is discovered, and I see thy meaning. I say then, that Charity, and distribution of Alms, hath its method and order, as in other things. Nor do I say, that thou shouldest not order thy Charity; but I say, that thou shouldest exercise thy Charity; That thou shouldst give freely, and not pinchingly; That thou shouldst not make such a deal of scrupulosity with thyself; whether he should have an Alms or not have an Alms? whether he have need, or not need? Troubling thyself with this, and with that, and I know not what. If thou wilt give it him, give it him quickly; if thou canst not, say thou canst not, and there's an end. Yet let me tell thee by the way; if a poor man beg of thee, then, even then, dost thou owe him an Alms, and it costs him dear too, as I told thee before.  
And let me farther tell thee, That thy Office is only to give. Let the Rulers and Magistrates, the Bishops and their Vicars, open that door to 
who are to judge of the poor.  look into, it is their eyes that must see who is poor, and who not, and accordingly appoint the punishment.  
This is for men of Office; this, for men of authority; yet it is a cross unto them; yet is it a trouble unto them. Nor were they made Governors, or Heads over others, for to eat the best morsels, or to feed on the daintiest 
What manner of man be aught to be, that is in authoritty.  dishes, but to take more pains and cares then other men. Not to laugh and make themselves merry with their Fools and jesters, but to lament and bewail the wretched estate of the poor: Not for to sleep and snort, but to watch and sigh, having continually (like unto the Dragon) the eyesight of the Spirit clear. So that, it only appertains unto thee to give an Alms: And do not think, that thou dost then perform that duty, when thou givest that thou canst not well tell what to do withal, and hast kept it so long in some corner a moulding, that it is fitter to be thrown out upon the dunghill, than any thing else. And as if the poor were that dunghill, thou giv'st him thy mouldy and thy stinking meat; not so much out of Charity, or any devotion thou hast to give it to the poor, as because thou canst not eat it thyself, and wouldst have thy house fain rid of it. But this, I tell thee, is the sacrifice of Cain. That which thou wilt offer, must be of the best things that thou hast, as did that good and just man Abel, with a desire and will that it were much better, wishing it may do him much good. Not, as though thou didst give by constraint and compulsion, nor yet for ostentation, having (like the Pharisee) the trumpet to go before thee, to sound forth thy praise; but only out of mere charity, that thou mayst reap thereby that fruit that is promised thee, God accepting of thy sacrifice.  
I was now a pretty ways off from Rome, whither I was bending my steps. 
Guzman with much ●…oy arrives at Rome.  But I no sooner came thither, but my tears trickled down my cheeks for joy. I did wish in my heart, that mine arms had been so large, as that they might have been able to have embraced those sacred Walls. The first step that I set within those holy gates, I fell down on my face, and kissed that hallowed ground. And because that Country, which a man knows, and where he hath his means, the same is to be accounted his Mother, I did much joy to see it. I knew the City well, and was as well known in it. I began (as I had done before) to seek some course to live, and to maintain this life of mine: I falsely call it life, being it was my death, though it seemed unto me, to be my proper Centre.  
O alas, how strangely are we wedded to our passions, and how strange doth that seem unto us, which doth not answer thereunto, be it never so true, never so certain! This seemed to me, to be my only happiness; holding (in comparison thereof) every other thing as a misfortune. And though I did see all, yet I inclined still to the worst, thinking still, that that was the best. 
Video meliora, etc.   
I was stirring one morning betimes, according as I had formerly been accustomed, and trugged along with my sore leg, with which I sat me down to beg at one of the Cardinal's gates. And he coming forth for to go to 
Guzman falls a b●…gging a●…w with his counterfeit sore leg.  the Palace, stayed to hear me, in how loud a voice and extravagant a tune, I besought his pity: not using those plainer notes of eight, but saying; Give me somewhat (noble Christian; friend of jesus Christ) take pit●…e of this sore afflicted sinner, maimed and pained in his members; Look upon these wretched limbs: consider my unfortunate years, and take some compassion of this miserable creature! O my most reverend Father, my most noble Lord, show some 
A form of begging used by some beggars.  sense of sorrow, have some little feeling, I beseech your most illustrious Lordship, of this poooe young wretched Youth, and pour forth your fatherly compassion upon such a pitiful piece of misery and wretchedness, as you see here before you. I beg it at your noble and charitable hands, in that glorious name of the blessed (though most painful) passion of our dear Master and Redeemer jesus Christ.  
My Lord Cardinal (after that he had heard me with a great deal of attention) was extremely moved therewith, and conceived an extraordinary pity towards me, insomuch that I did not seem unto him to be a man, but 
The Cardinal takes pity of Guzman. What effect his pity brings forth.  that I represented unto him even God himself. Thereupon he forthwith gave order to his servants, that they should take me up in their arms, and carry me into the house, and that stripping me of those old and rotten rags, they should lay me in his own bed, and in another chamber adjoining thereunto, they should make his. All which was done in a moment.  
O the great goodness of God! o the largeness of his noble condition! 
God's goodness.  They stripped me naked, for to clothe me; they would not let me beg, but were ready to give me; and to make me likewise able to give unto others. God never takes any thing away from us, but when he means to bestow greater blessings upon us. When God will give thee any thing, he will first 
His readiness to requite us.  ask something of thee. He comes weary about noon to the Fountain, sits him down, asks thee a little water whereof the beasts of the field do drink. Thou giv'st it him: In exchange whereof, he gives thee the water of the Well of Life, the drink of Angels, whereof he that drinketh, shall never thirst any more. This holy man made him his pattern, who sending presently for two skilful Surgeons, and promising to see them well rewarded, committed my cure to their charge, and that they should do their best to make me a sound man. This care being taken, leaving me in the hands of these two 
Physicians, and Surgeons, no ●…ends to beggars.  hangmen, and in the power of my enemies, he gets him away to the Palace.  
Although we used many, and sundry counterfeitings of sores, yet that which I had then made me, was rubbed over with a certain Herb, which caused it to look so ill and so vile, that whosoever had seen it, would have thought the sore incurable, and that great remedies must be used, as to a thing that was shrewdly festered, and grown to a Canker; yet if the use of this roguish Herb be but left off for three whole days, nature itself, without any other help, will reduce the flesh to that perfection and soundness, that it was in before. To these two Surgeons, it seemed at the first sight a thing of much moment. They threw off their Cloaks, they called for a Pan of coals, fresh butter and other things; and when they had all that they would in a readiness, they unswathed me, and unbound the clouts that were about my leg, which they performed very neatly and handsomely. That done, they asked me how long I had had this sore, if I could guess whence it should come; if I did use to drink Wine, what meats I did most usually feed on, and such other questions as these. Which those that are skilful in that art, are wont to do on the like occasions.  
All these I answered with silence, lying all along as if I had been dead, for I was not almost myself, nor was I indeed for a pretty while, seeing such a 
Guzman would not answer to the questions that the Surgeons ●…skt ●…im.  deal of preparation to cut, to cauterize and the like; and in case I should escape all this, I was at my wit's end, to think that my malady would be found out, and so my roguery be discovered. That which I suffered in Gaeta, seemed but a flea biting unto me. But now I lived in fear, that the Cardinal would inflict some notable punishment upon me, for this cheating trick that I had put upon him. I knew not how to help myself, nor what to do, nor whom to make use of in this my extremity. For, neither in all the Litany, nor in Flos Sanctorum, could I find any Saint, that was a Defender and Protector of Villains, or that would seek to excuse me.  
By this time they had viewed me again and again, a hundred and a hundred times, and turned me to and fro, this way and that way, that I thought they would never have made an end; when at last I broke forth and said; I am undone, I am undone; yet there is some life left in me: I die if you ask me any more questions, or if you med●…le with me any more. Two hours of trouble have I already endured under their hands, if they do not bury me now in 〈◊〉, (thought I) I will pass over the rest as well as I can. And say they should agree to cut off my leg, the condition were better, and the gain more certain▪ so as I did not die in the doing of it. But suppose also that this should befall me, I should then be before handwith Death, and I shall not be put to endure that brunt another time. What can I do more? (unfortunate man as I am) I was borne into the world, here I must suffer, patience must be my best comfort, shuffle the Cards therefore anew, and see whether we shall have any better luck. For my rest is up, and the care is already taken.  
While I was thus doubtful what would become of me, the covetousness 
S●…ons of 〈◊〉 evil 〈◊〉, what kind of men they be.  of these Surgeons, and their greediness of gain, opened the door to my remedy. The one of them▪ (who was better experienced then the other) came to know at last, that this sore was a counterfeit sore, and that by the signs and Symptoms of it, it proceeded from the effects of that very selfsame Herb which I had used. But this he kept close to himself, telling his fellow, This flesh is cankered all over, and therefore it is necessary, that to hinder it from spreading any farther, and that other new flesh may come up in its place, to cut it all away to the quick, and then there was no doubt of the well curing of it.  
The other said unto him; This cure will ask a great deal of time; all this filthy matter must be taken away, till we come to the very belly, as it were, wherein the very pith and Core of it lies, before we can well tell what to say to it. Howsoever, we have here a fair occasion offered to show our skill, and to pick out something of it, for the better passing over of this hard year. He that was the more expert man of the two, took the other by the hand, and led him forth aside into a withdrawing room, that joined close to the chamber. ay, when I saw them thus go forth together (suspecting some secret consultation) I stole me out of my bed after them, that I might listen to their talk, and it was my hap at last to hear the one of them say to the other; Master Doctor, I do think (be it spoken under correction) that your Worship doth not rightly and truly understand this young man's malady; for you shall seldom meet with the like kind of cures, and there is scarce one of a hundred, when they do meet with them, that doth know them, o●… can tell what to make of them, yet shall I acquaint you with what I know: we are Partners in this business, and therefore I will hide nothing from you; but it is a great secret, that I have to communicate unto you. What (for God's sake) said the other? I shall tell you, sir: and with that he said; This beggar 
The wicked co●…l of two Surgeons, about Guzman's, ●…e leg.  is a notable dissembling Rogue, a subtle Villain; these sores that you see, are feigned ware, counterfeit stuff. What shall we do in this case? Let me be advised by you. If we leave him off thus▪ the bird will escape our hands, and so we shall lose both the credit and profit of this Cure. If take upon us to cure him, we have no cure to work upon, and then this Rascal will befool us, and laugh at our ignorance: and if we cannot one way or other come off fairly to our best advantage, the be●… course will be (in my opinion) to acquaint the Cardinal how the case standeth, and what a count●…feit Knave we have under our hands.  
No sir (said the other) I hold not that so fit. Let us hold the Bird fast, while we have him: it is a less evil, that upon this young fellow (that is no better than a Picaro, and an errant Rogue) we should gain us a ●…ittle reputation, and come off with some good opinion, then to let slip so fine and so fair an occasion. Let us therefore take no notice of these his counterfeit sores, but rather lay some Plasters thereunto, that may entertain and delay the time: And if need be, we shall afterwards apply some Corrosives, that shall eat into the sound flesh, in the cure whereof, we will spend some few days. Nay then (quoth the other) the best way will be, Sir, (as I take it) to begin first with fire, cauterizing that part which appears thus infected.  
Now, which of these two remedies they should first begin withal, as also, how they were to share the gains between them, a great quarrel there was, they could not agree upon the point; for he that first found out the nature of my sore, would have the greater share, or else he would acquaint the Cardinal with the whole business.  
When I saw upon what they stuck, and that it was a matter of little or no moment, and that upon their difference, which was occasioned by my miserable poverty, I might run the hazard of my utter ruin, I rushed in between them, and throwing myself down at their feet, I said thus unto them, Gentlemen; on your hands, and tongues, depends my life, or death: my remedy, or my ruin. From my hurt no good can come to you; but from 
Guzman speaks to the Surgeons. They a●…e together to abuse the charity of this good P●…clate.  my good, you may reap assured both profit, and credit.  
I know you are not ignorant of the necessity and want which the poor suffer, and of the hardness of rich men's hearts, insomuch, that to move them to the more compassion and the easilier to get an Alms from them, we are enforced to wound our flesh, with these kind of sores and martyrdoms, enduring much trouble, and suffering much pain, yet neither these, nor greater miseries that we abide, are of power to prevail with them. It were a great misfortune in others to endure that out of necessity which we willingly suffer, for that poor and miserable maintenance, which we draw from thence. I beseech you (for God's sake) to take pity on me, seeing that you are men that run through the troublesome street of this world, and are made of flesh and blood, as well as myself; and that, which hath driven me to this hard exigent, may likewise light upon yourselves.  
Do not (I beseech you) bewray me, work your will upon me, and wherein I may serve and help you, I will not be wanting to do as you will have me, and in all things to be so ruled by you, that you may gain much by this your cure. You may be confident of me, and trust me as you would your own lives; for if there were no other means to make me sure unto you, the fear of mine own punishment is sufficient of itself, to bind me to be secret. Nor let not the respect of gain restrain your kindness; for it is better to get, then to lose. We are three of us, let us all play booty, and join together to cousin the Cardinal; for he is rich, and something is better than nothing.  
These entreaties, seasoned with a few tears, and uttered with that earnestness as I delivered them unto them, were sufficient to make them approve of my counsel; and so much the rather, for that they saw that I had hit the nail right on the head. Wherewith they were so well pleased, that they were ready for joy to take me up upon their shoulders, to carry me to my bed. And so they and myself grew fully agreed to play every man his part as well as we could.  
Whilst this business was in debating, they were so long before they could agree upon the matter, that I was scarce put into my bed, and the clothes cast upon me; but that my Lord Cardinal was come to the Chamber door; who when he was entered, one of the Surgeons said unto him: 
The Surgeons dissemble th●…s counterfeit ●…ore with the Cardinal.   
This young man's malady (may it please your Lordship) is a very grievous one, and we must necessarily apply, great remedies thereunto. For the flesh is festered and cankered in many places, and it hath taken such deep root, that it is impossible for the plasters that we are to apply to work any good effect, without some long tract of time; but I am very confident, and dare be bold to assure your Lordship, that (by the help of God) we shall make him as sound a man, as ever he was in his life.  
Then said the other, If this Youth had not thus luckily fall'n into your Lordship's pitiful and charitable hands, within a few days, these his sores would have been so putrified, and have so corrupted the wholebody, that all the world could not have saved his life, but he must have perished, and died. But we shall so stop this Canker, from spreading itself any farther, and use such good means for his recovery, that I make no question but within six months; if not sooner, his flesh shall come to be as whole and as fair as mine.  
The good Cardinal (whom Charity had only moved hereunto) told them; Be it in six, or in ten, let me have it throughly healed and cured as it ought to be cured, and I shall take order that you be provided of all things necessary for it, you shall want nothing. With this, he left them, and withdrew himself into another room. This did put new life into me; and as if they had drawn my heart out of the one side, and had thrust it in on the other into my body again, so did I then feel myself. For even till that very instant, I did not rest assured of these two traitorous Surgeons. I still feared, they would have wheeled about another way, and have been the cause of my undoing. But by that which I had heard them treat in my presence, I was somewhat cheered, and began to be of good comfort.  
But the custom ofSwearing, Gaming, and Begging, are things that are 
Swearing, Gaming, and Begging, three things hard to be left.  hard to be left off. It could not choose but grieve me very much, that I was hindered in my course, mewed up, debarred my liberty, and made unable to enjoy those good and plentiful Alms, which I gained by begging. Which loss notwithstanding did seem the less, in regard of that curious entertainment, choice diet, and good lodging that I had, that man's desire could not have wished it to have been better. For I was waited on, like a Prince, and cured with that care, as if I had been the Cardinal himself. And so had he given commandment to the servants of his house; besides his daily coming in his own proper person to visit me. And sometimes he would sit down and make some stay with me, talking of such things, wherein he took pleasure to hear me.  
At length, being healed of this infirmity, (when the Surgeons saw their 
Guzman is fully cured. He is made one of the Cardinal's Pages.  time,) they were dismissed, receiving a great deal of pay, for a little pains. And I was commanded to be new clothed, and to be listed in the Roll of the Pages; that as one of them, from that time forward, I might attend, and wait upon his Lordship.   

CHAPTER VII.  
Guzman de Alfarache discourseth, how all things have had their time of Empire. He delivereth strange things, touching Truth, and Lying. As being Page to the Cardinal; he declareth the Virtue's, and the Vices, wherein your Pages exercise themselves. He relateth a pleasant Story of his stealing of some Conserves; and how he was punished for it.  
OF all things created, none can complain to have passed without 
All things created have had their time of sway.  its Empire. They have all of them had their day, and have taken their turn. But because Time changeth all things; these are past and gone; and those have finished their course.  
And first to begin with Poetry, it is apparent to all the 
Poetry.  world, how much that in its time was celebrated.  
Let ancient Rome report, in what reverence were your Orators held, that were skilled in the Art of Rhetoric, and had the gift of 
Oratory.  speaking well and eloquently.  
And let our Spain speak, what honour is now at this day given to those 
Divinity.  sacred letters of holy Writ, so many years since, so well received by her; And in what esteem stand both the Laws, Civil, and Canon. 
Law.   
The fashion of Apparel, and wearing of clothes in Spain, cannot escape amongst the rest; wherein we daily find new changes, and new alterations, 
Apparel.  after which strange fashions all run as fast, as scatteringly, and as much out of order as Goats do one after another; and as one Sheep leaps after another; so do men and women leap into fashions. He is no body that is not in the new fashion. And nothing now seemeth well, but what is in use; notwithstanding that it hath been already used, and that lately, and approved for good: And that sottish ignorance of the common rout, and base sort of people, is come now to that pass, that they will all forsooth be alike; the tall man as the short; the Quack-belly, as the Scranio; the fat, as the lean; the sick, as the sound; the deformed, as the well-proportioned man, will have (if not one & the selfsame measure) at least one and the selfsame fashion; putting themselves into ugly and monstrous shapes, and into an indecent and ill-becomming wear of clothes, and only because they will follow the fashion, and be in the same cut as others be, as if one kind of Syrup, or Purge, were fit for all diseases.  
The words likewise and phrases of our speech, have been corrupted by use, 
Words & sp●…  and those which once were filed phrases, and pure language, are now accounted rude and barbarous.  
Meats also have their season, and their time; For that doth not please us 
Mea●…s.  in the Winter, which we have a great desire unto in the Spring; nor that like us in the Autumn, which we have a mind unto in the Summer.  
Your buildings, and your Engines of War are daily renewed. Your Manual 
Buildings. Warlike Engines.  works, and those that are wrought with the hand, have their turnings too; as your Seats, your Chairs, your Benches, your Cupboards, 
Manual Arts.  your Cabinets, your Tables, your low Stools for women, your Lamps, your Candlesticks, and the like: Your sports, your games and your Dances, 
Music. Dancing.  have also their changes. And even in Music, and in Songs, we find the like.  
For some are much taken with the 
a Zaravanda: a known Dance in Spain, very wanton and lascivious. The women of Cadizmuented the Dance, and brought it to Rome, whereof Martial ma●…es ment●…on in some places. Es●…lly lib. 5. Epig. 79. Nec de Gadibus improbis puellae Vibrabunt sine sine prurientes Lasciu●…s docili tremore lumbos. Truth banished.  Zaravanda; and others may come hereafter, that will utterly mislike it, and make it grow out of date. Who have seen your Mules in former times, how much Velvet they have drawn along with them in their 
* Foot 〈◊〉 Asses.  Foot-cloths, may now in these behold how incapable they are of any such courtesy, being not suffered to have any ornaments of Silk or Gold.  
We are all witnesses, when the time was, that my little pretty Sardinian Ass, was your women's only Regalo and delightful companion, when they performed their Stations, or went upon their Visits. But they are now all for their 
* Pack-Sadelles. D●…gs. Monkeys. Pa●…ats. The D●… and Spindle. Truth, how w●…ch r●…cted in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Silla's, and easy Chairs carried with hands, which heretofore were well contented with good honest Packsaddles.  
Let your Ladies now tell me, how ●…ntiall a thing it is, and how much it importeth them, to have little foisting Hounds, Monkeys, and Parrakitoes, for to entertain the time; who in times past did spend those idler hours at the Reel and Spin●…le, and exercising their Needle in some curious, yet necessary works: But these are fall'n into disgrace, they are grown out of fashion, their time is past and gone, they have their course, and are vanished with the rest.  
The like hath happened unto Truth, that also hath had its time: Insomuch that it was anciently much more used then now: And so much, that it was a general saying in those days, that it was resp●…cted above all other Virtues; and he that told any Lie, were it of more or less importance, received punishment accordingly, even to the l●…sse of life, by being publicly stoned to death.  
But because we are quickly weary of well-doing, and what is ill, will never be tired out; men growing worse and worse, so holy a Law could not keep itself afoot amongst so many wicked persons. Whereupon, it came to pass, that a great Plague and Pestilence coming amongst them, all those that were touched with it (if they escaped with their life) remained with some offensive mark or other on their persons: And as it befalleth, that one generation pass●…th, and another comes in the place, one succeeding another; they that were borne sound and whole, reproached those other with their faults and defects, wherewith they were notably grieved to see themselves thus disgraced and took it very offensively at their hands.  
Whence it came to pass by little and little, that Truth began to be heard with an unwilling ear. And because men were thus unwilling to hear it, 
A short Story of Truth.  they grew at last to be unwilling to tell it. For by the first round, we come unto the second, and by the second, by degrees to the top of all. And a little spark sometimes s●…ts a whole City on fire.  
At last they grew so bold as to break this Statute, and not contented therewith they banished Truth at last into perpetual Exile; and in her stead Lying was entertained and seated in her throne.  
Truth being thus condemned, she went from among them to perform the tenor of her Sentence. She went all alone, Poor, and naked; as it usually happeneth unto those that are sunk, and fall'n from their fortunes; (for every man is valued according to that that he hath, or as his ability is; and those which formerly have been our friends, in time of adversity turn tail, and become our enemies.) And having gone some few days journeys from thence, standing on a high Mountain, she might perceive, passing over the edge of a little Hill, a great company coming along, and the nearer still they drew, the greater did their number appear. In the midst of a Squadron, compassed about with an Army, came Kings, Princes, Governors, Priests 
Lies Triumph.  of that profession, Men of command, and Rulers of those Provinces, every one according to his quality, either more or less, near to this triumphant Chariot, which they had placed in the midst, with a great deal of Majesty, which was wrought with admirable Art, and extreme curiosity.  
In this Chariot, was there a high Throne erected, whose seat was of ivory, Ebony, and Gold; wherein were inchased many precious Stones, and a woman sitting thereupon, with a Crown upon her head, like a Queen; her face most beautiful; but as you drew nearer and nearer unto it, it did lose much of its fairness, and at last appeared most foul and ugly. Her body, when she sat still, and did not stir, seemed lusty, neat, and handsome; but when she rose up, and stood upon her feet, or walked up and down, she discovered many defects. Her Robes were of changeable Taffetas, exceeding rich and glorious to the eye, and full of variety of colours, strangely diversified, and cunningly intermingled one with another, but the threads so slender, so subtle, and of that little or no substance, that the very air would puff it in pieces, and every the least thing, either make bracks in it, or break and tear it to fitters.  
Truth, she stood still (poor soul) till this Squadron was past, admiring to see so much greatness and State; but when the Chariot came right over against her, the Lady Lie taken notice of this poor honest Dame Truth, and commanded those about her to stay. And causing her to come nearer unto 
Lie meets with Truth.  her, she began to ask her whence she came, whither she would, and what she went about? And Truth plainly told her all.  
The Lady Lie thought it fitting out of state and greatness, and for a farther addition of honour, to lead her along with her: For every one is so much the more powerful, by how much the greater are the enemies, whom he overcometh: and is by so much the more esteemed and reputed of in the world, by how much the mightier the forces are, against which he makes resistance.  
Hereupon she commands Truth to wait upon her. There was no remedy, she could not avoid it, she must along with her, whether she would or no; but in the tail of all the troop, being commanded to come last, for that 
Truth, where she takes her place.  was her known place, and at that time did (as it should seem) properly belong unto her.  
He that will seek for Truth, shall not find her with this great Lady Lie, nor with any of her Ministers, for she comes in the Rear last of all, and there she manifests herself to those, that make inquiry after her.  
The first day's journey that she marched, she came to a goodly fair City, where Favour went forth to receive her, a very potent and powerful Prince, 
Favour goes forth to meet the Lady Lye.  who invites both her and all her Train to his house.  
The Lady Lie accepted of this his kindness, giving him many thanks for this his courteous offer, but would needs go to lodge at the rich and sumptuous Palace of Wit, where a great feast, and a curious banquet was provided for her. 
Wit emertaines the Lady Lye.   
Afterwards, when she was to go from thence, and to pass on forward with her Troops, my Lady Lies Steward, which was Ostentation, tall of 
Ostentation the Lady Lies Steward.  person, with a long beard, a grave countenance, a settled gate, and words well placed, came to mine Host, that had given them this good entertainment, & asked him, what was to pay? The reckoning was summed up; and the Steward, without contradiction, or abatement of any thing, told him it was well. 
The coin, wherein the Lady Lye makes her payments.   
Then the Lady Lie called Ostentation her Steward unto her, saying; See you pay this man well, out of that money which you gave him to keep, when you came in hither. Mine Host seemed to be amazed thereat, and began to wonder with himself, what money this should be, that they talked of; and thought at first, that they had but spoke in jest. But when he saw that they stood so stiffly in it, and that the same was affirmed by so many of good (as they seemed to be) condition and quality, he did very much complain, saying; That till now, he had never been so ill used before in all his life. Upon that my Lady Lie, for the justifying thereof, presents these for Witnesses; Idleness, her Treasurer; Flattery, her principal follower, and chief Attendant 
Lies Witnesses, who they be.  on her Person; Vice her Chamberlain; And Wily-beguile-you, one of her maids of Honour, together with diverse other of her servants. And that she might convince him the better, she commanded Interest, mine Hosts Son, and Covetousness, his Wife, to be brought forth before him: All which avouched to his face, that it was so.  
Wit seeing himself in this straight, did rend the air with his Exclamations, 
Wit complains of his wrong.  calling upon the heavens, that they would make the Truth known; for they had not only denied him that which they owed him; but they demanded that of him, which he owed them not.  
Truth, seeing him thus afflicted, as being one that ever wished him well, came to him, and told him; My friend Wit, you have reason on your side, 
Truth speaks in favour of Wit.  but I know not how to help thee; for she that denies this debt, is the Lady Lie, and here is no body on your part but myself, and all the service that I am able to do you, is; to declare myself for you, as I do.  
The Lady Lye was so startled, and so abashed at this her boldness, that she commanded her Ministers, that Wit should be paid, but with Truth's wealth; 
The Lady Lye gives sentence on Wit's side, but condemns Truth in the charges.  which was accordingly done. And so they set forward, taking up, as they went along, Inns and other lodgings, as such kind of people use to do, letting no place scape, where they did not purloin and steal. For one wicked Villain is commonly the hangman to another. And evermore, (take it for a general rule) one thief, one blasphemer, one ruffian, and one damned fellow, ends his life by the hands of one that is as bad as himself: And these are a kind of great Fishes, which feed upon the lesser Frie.  
They arrived afterwards at a place, whereof Murmuration was Mistress, a great friend to the Lady Lie, who came forth to meet her, causing all the 
Murmuration.  great Persons of her Kingdom, and her own private servants, to lead on the way afore. Amongst the which went Pride, Treachery, Deceit, Gluttony, Ingratitude, Malice, Hatred, Negligence, Sloth, Obstinacy, Revenge, Envy, 
Murmurations followers, who they be.  Injury, Folly, Uain-glory, Madness, Self-will, besides other her familiar friends and acquaintance. She invited her to be her Guest, and that she would be pleased to make her Palace her Inn, and with that freeness, as if it were her own. The Lady Lie accepted of her kindness, but with this condition, that she might only have the use of her lodgings, and in all the rest, to be 
The Lady Lye dines a●… her house, and upon what condition.  at her own charge. Murmuration was very willing to have shown her greatness, and withal to have given her the best entertainment she could; but because it was Lies pleasure to have it otherwise, she rested contented, and thanked her that she would be pleased to do her house that grace, which she esteemed as a great favour; and so without any farther reply on either part, they went hand in hand together to the Palace. Solicitude, who was Steward; and Inconstancy the Caterer, made provision of victuals; the fame 
Solicitude, Steward of the house: Inconstancy, the Caterer.  whereof was so great, that many came from all the bordering places thereabouts, with a world of all sorts of dainties, and whatsoever else was necessary for the setting forth of so great a Feast; all which was taken up, without any hucking or sticking upon the price; Look what they asked, that they were agreed withal to have. But after dinner, when they were to depart, and go their ways, the Owners of these things demanded money for what they had sold. The Treasurer said, that he owed them nothing; and the Caterer, that he had paid them all. Whereupon there was great stir, and much ado; insomuch that the Lady Lie way fain to come forth herself amongst 
Lies sh●…, that she may 〈◊〉 pay what she owes.  them, and said unto them; My friends, what is it you would have? Are you mad? or what's the matter with you? Sure you are either out of your wits, or I do not well understand myself. You are all of you paid already for whatsoever you brought hither; and I myself saw with mine own eyes, when your moneys were paid you before Truth's face, and in her presence. Let her speak, if she may be taken for a witness, whether it be so or no: I will be content to be tried by her. They going then to seek out Truth, to decide this difference, and to award what was to be done in this business; she feigned herself to be asleep. They called aloud unto her. But she bethinking herself, how ill she had been dealt withal before, was in a doubt what she should do: at last she resolved with herself to feign herself dumb, and had lost her speech, that she might not pay for that, which others 
Truth becomes dumb, and the cause why.  had bought, and were her professed enemies: Whereupon she hath continued that custom ever since; And now truth is grown dumb, for that she had paid so sound for not being mute before. And therefore he that speaks the Truth, let him pay for't by my consent. For as the world now goes, he is worthy so to do.  
But it seemeth unto me (as I have painted it in mine Imagination) that 
Truth and Lying how compared.  Truth and Lying are like the string, and the Wrest or Peg in some Instrument. The string hath a delicate sound, sweet, and pleasing to the ear; But the Peg doth skreeke, squeak, and creak like a Cartwheel, and can hardly be turned and wrested. The string gently yields, willingly stretching & enlarging itself, till you have strained it to your liking; But the Peg goes still twirling and turning, being wrung, wrinched, and pinched upon by the string. Just so stands the case, for all the world, betwixt Truth and Lying. Truth is the Peg, and Lying the string: Well may a Lie go working and winding itself upon Truth, which is the Peg, and leave some print, or sign therein, making it to sound harsh & untuneable to the ear, but in the end, it goes (although with some difficulty) turning and winding a Lie so long, till Truth remain whole and sound, like the Peg; and Lying cracked and broken, like the String.  
If I had treated Truth, all those torments, affronts, and afflictions which 
Guzman's course of life, what it was.  I had run thorough and endured, could not in the end but have set me safe in some one good Port or other, and have brought me with joy to the fortunate Lands. But the whole course of my life, was lying, cozenage, and roguery, and so like the string of an Instrument, when it came to be put in tune, it could not endure any the least straining, and so presently broke, it was not able (I say) to resist and withstand Truths stretching hand, but went still turning and twirling, from one mischief to another, and from one evil into a worse. So one Deep calleth up another, and one Wave comes head-longly tumbling in upon the neck of his fellow.  
The Pin is now turned, and I am raised up to be a Page, God grant I may come down no lower. That thing which receiveth violence and is strained 
Guzman turned Page.  to a course contrary to its nature, it is impossible, but it must revert and return to its centre, be it low, or be it high; for that is the place, which it doth naturally affect and desire. They took me from the height of my glory, and brought me down so low as to serve, which (being so opposite 
Nullum violentum diuturnum.  as it was to my disposition) you shall see how long I continued in that course.  
He that walks too fast, will be quickly weary; And to pass so suddenly from one extreme to another, as it cannot be done with safety, so is it conserved with difficulty. If a Tree take not deep rooting, it will never bear any fruit, but quickly dries and withers away; So he that is newly put into an Office, cannot suddenly take any deep rooting; and say he should be settled therein some years, he will hardly thrive in a strange soil, that doth not sort with his nature, and so will prove in the end as unprofitable to himself as unfruitful to others. It was too great aleape, to rise from a Picaro, to be a Page, (though in a manner they are correlatives, and have a kind of relation one to another, only their habit doth difference and distinguish them) and I could not choose but grieve, as oft as I thought upon it. That which was common with others, fell out quite contrary with me. For it is said, Que las honras, quanto mas creçen, mas hambre ponen. That the more honour a man has, the more he desires. But I was so far from that liking, that it was rather 
Proverb.  to me a loathing. Such high places did not please me; Those that I had professed, those were for me. Cada uno, en lo que se cria. Let every man betake himself to that, wherein he hath been trained and bred up. Is it fit (think 
Proverb.  you) to take the fish out of the ●…ater, and to breed Peacocks therein? To put an Ox to fly, and an Eagle to plough? To feed a Horse with sand? To sup a Falcon with straw? And to ●…ake from a man his Risibilitie (to speak like a Logician) and faculty of laughing? I was bred up among the fleshpots of Egypt; my Centre was a good victualling house; my Circle, a good honest Tavern; and my end, Vice; whereunto I did bend amain; In that I took pleasure, that was health and life to me; and what was contrary to that, I took no joy in it, it was not for me, nor was I willing to make it mine.  
My mouth was now daintily fed; my back delicately clad; my eyes swollen with too much sleep; my hands (for want of work) as soft as silk; my belly, 
What Guzman did whilst be was a Page.  (with too much pampering) as hard braced as any Drum; my buttocks brawny, and thicke-skined with too much sitting; and my chaps (like a Monkeys) nimbly walking on both sides, when I was at my meat. Tell me, how was it possible for me to content myself; how endure to be put to a set Pension, to stay waiting all day long at a door, at nights to stand with a Torch in my hand, leaning against a wall, and standing upon one leg like a Crane, till it be almost daybreak? Sometimes, (if not for the most part) supperless, but frozen (I am sure) with cold, expecting the Visits that go, out and come in, being like a Ladder for others to go up and down; or like a Smith's pair of Bellowes, ascending, and descending, to bear others company, waiting upon my Lord's Caroche early and late; not only at some set seasons and certain times, but at all hours both of day and night, being my red in the Winter with dirt; and choked in the Summer with dust; holding a Trencher between my Thumbs at meals; my belly growing lean and lank through alonging desire, feeding on the best dishes with my eyes, and wishing in my soul, that every daintymorsell at the board, had been meat for my mouth. Besides, going upon one message, and returning with another, tiring out my legs, and wearing out my shoes, and being allowed but every month a pair, we were forced to go fifteen days of the thirty barefoot. These are the things, that yearly pass from the first of january, to the last of December. 
Page's gettings, what they be.  And he, who at the end thereof should ask us: How have you thrived this year? What have you got?  
The answer is at hand, Sir, I rest upon my Lord's love and favour, I refer myself to his discretion and goodness. I eat of his meat, and drink of his drink; in Winter feeding on that which is cold; in Summer, that which is hot. And what I have in that kind, is but a poor pittance, and that little 
The clock of a Pages stomach, must go still 〈◊〉 hour after his Masters.  none of the best, and commonly somewhat of the latest, that aman were as good go without it. I wear what clothes he gives me, such as you see; as a Livery rather of my servitude, then of devotion to clothe me; not given me to keep me warm, but to do my Lord honour: And those too must be made to their mind, and our cost. So that our money pays for it, and they choose the colours.  
Our greater gains did consist in cold fare, for there was not one of us that could finger a full Trencher: scraps, and picking of their teeth, we had in some abundance, and with these we entertained ourselves, and the like poor Relics that they left, and some refuse fruits, that were not worth the eating, and such things as these, or worse, were all the fruits of our labours.  
When the wind blew fresh, and that we had got a matter of some ten or twelve 
a A matter of some eight pence, or nine pence.  Quartes, which with us was a great sum, we raised this money out of so many drops and flakes of Wax, which we took off from our Torches, which we sold to some old Cobbler or other. He amongst us that could get up a little stock, that were worth any thing; though it were never so small, this man had a sufficient Patrimony, and did great things with it, he might buy him a penny-pasty at the Cooks, and other the like odd kind of junkets; but if he were taken in the manner; he was sure to be whipped for his labour. This was his judgement. Only it was permitted unto us to steal. I say (if we had stolen) it was held the less evil of the two. For if it had been permitted, and that we might have been suffered so to do, I would so cunningly have employed my wits in that kind, that I would in a short time have been able to set up a Chandler's shop. But if I did make benefit of mine own Torch, or filch now and then from my fellows some of theirs, that was all that I did. But they were so base, and so crafty withal, that I never saw them busy themselves about any other thing, being more desirous to lose their meat, then that; for victuals are consumed in the belly, and can not afterwards be sold to profit; and yet for these things too, they had a thousand shifts and rogueries.  
For I saw one of them once take a Honeycomb from the table, and presently wrapped it in his Handkerchief, and clapped it into his Pocket. But because 
A Page steals a Honeycomb, waiting at table; The Story of it, and his punishment.  he waited at the table, and for that he could not carry it so speedily as he would have done to the Haven of Safety, nor land it in so good a place as he desired, it happened that the heat of the weather, and the warmth of his pocket, melted the Honey, which in great haste came trickling down his Breeches, and dropped out at his knees. My Lord spied it, as he sat at Table, who could scarce forbear laughing; at last, to make himself merry, he called him unto him and commanded him to put down his Hose. The Page did so. And when his hands came to touch upon the Honey, it clung fast to his finger's ends, whereat they fell a laughing, and he went away ashamed. But he had sour sauce to his sweet meat; for besides that he never tasted of the Honey, he was so sound lashed, that his breech dropped Wax, as fast as the Comb did Honey. Which misfortune should never have befallen me, for I was perfect in all kind of roguery, and would never have been to seek of some slight or other for cleanly conveyance. And that my sword might not rust in my scabbard, but that I might still keep my hand in ure, I was evermore a practising upon some toys and trifles, petty things, not worth the talking, only to set my fellow's wits a-work, and to give them a bone to gnaw upon.  
The Devil (I think) brought Fools and Blockheads to the Court, who 
Foolish Pages, not fit for Court.  let every good morsel slip besides their mouths: a troublesome and wearisome kind of people to treat withal, unfit for the managing of business; insupportable in their carriage, and tedious in their conversation. A man should be like to a good Horse, or a good Greyhound, upon all occasions to take his career, and to make his course; and moreover he must carry himself in a cool and quiet manner.  
There were Pages good store; but I must tell you, that the most of them, nay, I will enlarge my speech a little more, and say; That they were all Chips of one and the same block, a company of beetle-heads, dull-spirited fellows; that had no wherry in them, not only when they were in their Lord's presence; but likewise, when they were out of his sight. They were as slow in executing his will, as they were lazy in getting up from their beds; they were idle, reckless, careless, all set upon loitering, exercising neither their bodies, nor their brains, which made me the more willing to play the 
Guzman's tricks being a Page. Guzman hath a liquorish tooth.  Wag with them, and for my better pastime, to put one pretty trick or other upon them.  
I did store myself with Stockings, Garters, Bands, Hats, Handkerchiefs, Points, Cuffs, Shoes, and whatsoever I could rape or wring from them, which I hid between the Straw of one of my fellow's beds, because, if any search were made, they should not find them in mine. I altered the property of these things in an instant, they never lay long by me, I would chop them for old iron, rather than be troubled with the keeping of them. It behoved them to look well about them, and to see that they had all safe and sure under lock and key, for if they should carelessly leave any thing abroad, those eyes that found it gone, did never see it return again.  
Many of these waggish parts I played, which were but tricks of youth, and nothing else. But I fell afterwards into a fault, which I would have sworn of all others (so far was it from my thought) I should never have offended in. It was a liquorish sin, even the sin of Gluttony. Which I do not know, whether it proceeded from my eating by measure (as being stinted) or whether that my longing did provoke and stir up my appetite? or whether it were now muing time with me, and that I was to change my old feathers, and get me new; for they say, that men, while they live here in this world, do at certain times and seasons, (as other creatures shed their hairs, and recover new coats) change and alter their manners and conditions.  
I was now grown so liquorish, and so sharpe-set upon sweet meats, (for the pleasant taste they had, while they passed down my throat) that never any blind man was half so forward to go repeating his Litanies, and other his set prayers, from door to door, to get an Alms, as I was to please my palate: And look whatsoever came within the 
a The Spanish word is Columbrar. To discern a thing a far off, which can hardly be perceived what it is. It seemeth to be borrowed from the Latin word Collimare. Quod proprium est oculorum, cum eos in angulum retorquentes, obliquè aliquid aspicimus, penitusque in rem aliquam defigimus, quem admodum Sagittarij solent, cum aliquid sibi addictum designant.  reach of mine eyes, were it as far as they could ken, and safe enough (as it might be supposed) from catching, yet could it not escape my Eagles-talons.  
And as the Hart, with his breathing, draws your Snakes out of the bowels of the earth: So I, if I could but once come to set mine eyes upon such, or such a dainty, it was sure mine own, they rendered themselves at first into my hands; my hands, they turned them over to my mouth; and my mouth committed them close prisoners to my belly, where these sweets remained, till they were no longer sweet.  
My Lord Cardinal had a great Chest (which kind of Chests are much used in Italy) of white Pine; and I have likewise seen good store of them in Spain, which they usually bring from thence, stuffed with Merchandise, but especially with glasses, and earthen cups and dishes, the better to keep them from breaking.  
This Chest stood in a withdrawing Chamber, for to regalar, and cheer himself withal, being full of diverse sorts of Conserves; there, I say, were your dry Suckets delicately candied, your 
b A Pear of a delicate taste, brought from the City of Bergamo in Italy, whence it hath the name.  Bergamota Pear of 
c A gar●…en of great both●… 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉, ●…ll of all 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 few ●…gues from Madrid; It is the King's garden.  Aranxues, your Genoa Cherry, your Melon of Granada, your Sevillian Citrons, your Oranges, and Pome-Citrons of Plasencia, your Lemons of Murçia, your pretty little Cucumbers of Ualençia, your buds of the Lands, your 
d A kind of 〈◊〉 growing on the ground like a Melon. Also they are called Amoris poma. Love-apples, because they provoke a man to Lust. Vid. Covarru. Ver. Berengena.  Berengenas of Toledo, your 
e A kind of dried Peaches, which ●…eped some four and twenty ●…ures in Wine, are good meat.  Orejones of Arragon, your Potatas of Malaga: your Pippens, Parsneps, Carrots, Pompions, besides a thousand several sorts of Comfits, and an infinite number more of sundry different kinds of Sweetmeats, which did disquiet my spirit within me, not suffering my soul to take any rest.  
As often as he made any collation, or did eat any of these things, he gave me the Key, himself standing by, while I took them out, never trusting me with them alone by myself.  
This distrust of his, begot anger in me; and this anger, a desire of revenge. This (though I were broad awake) did I still dream on. I thought with myself (God forgive me for it) how I might possibly come to have a fling at this Chest, and open this Mine, which was more precious unto me, than all the gold in the Indies.  
I told you already, that the Chest was a very great one, being to my seeming two yards and a half in length, one in depth, and another in breadth: it was as white (if not more) then any Paper; the Bars and all the rest of the Iron-worke about it, as small as your finest threads of Cambric, curiously wrought, smooth and neatly polished, strengthened with good strong plates at the corners, set with studs very handsomely; the Lock stood in the midst, there being but one Key to open to this sweet Paradise, and that was in my Lord's custody. If thou knowst what it is to steal, or hast ever heard tell of it; or wouldst feign learn how to rob a Chest, and to take what thou wilt out of it, without either falsifying of a Key, ripping open of a Lock, taking off the Hinges, or breaking up the Board's; Listen but to me, and I will tell thee how it may be done.  
When it was my turn to wait, and that there were any Visits, or other necessary businesses at home, whose present being in action, might promise 
Guzman steals his Lords sweetmeats.  me security; I had certain Iron tools in a readiness, which I had prepared of purpose, with the help whereof I did by little and little heave up the lid of the Chest, till I could thrust in a pretty little wedge of wood, and then heaving it up a little more, I did put in a round stick, about the bigness of the head of a reasonable good big Hammer, and this I went wresting in by degrees, turning and winding it fair and softly towards the lock, whereunto, the nearer and nearer still that it grew, the more and the more did it still heave up my corner, so that being (as I was) but a Youth, and having a slender hand, and a small arm, I took out such Sweetmeats, as I had most mind unto, wherewith I filled my pockets as full as ever I could stuff them. But when I could not reach now and then to those that were farther off, that I might meet at last with this their contuma●…ie and rebellion, I did clap upon the end of a Cane, or some little stick, two Pinn's, one having a sharp point, and the other made crooked like a hook, and by the help of these two, I brought them to their due obedience.  
And thus I became Lord and Master of whatsoever was within the Chest, without the help of any key. In which theft, I carried myself so cunningly, that though I had stolen much, yet there was nothing found to be missing. At last I lighted upon a Melacotone of Castille, which being as fair, and as goodly a one (for it's greatness) as ever I saw in all my life, and gilded all over, my appetite was much provoked therewith, it seeming to be one entire piece of Gold, when I first tasted it: the relish whereof (me thinks) remaineth yet still in my mouth; me thought I never tasted any thing better, nor had I ever seen the like before.  
Now, because this was a known Piece, when it was once discovered, that this curiosity was wanting, there was presently a general suspicion conceived; but not any the least thought or jealousy, that it had been taken out so, as indeed it was, but was rather imagined, that it was done by some counterfeit key. And this did much trouble my Lord the Cardinal, that he should have any in his house, that should dare to falsify his locks, especially in so private and secret a room as this was, which he reserved for his own use. Whereupon he forthwith called unto him his principal servants, to the end that he might search out the truth of this business. But as good luck would have, it fell out so happily, that all that I had stolen thence, was down my throat, and thoroughly digested, not any the least remembrance thereof remaining any more in my possession. Now my Lord had to his Steward a melancholy Chaplain, a fellow of an ill concoction, who wished my Lord, that all his servants should be called together, and afterwards have them shut up in one chamber, where they should be thoroughly examined, one by one, to see what could be got out of them, and that their chambers likewise be searched; for such a piece of work as this could not proceed from any man of reason, but from the liquorish mouth of some of his Pages, or some other his younger boys about the house, which had a sweet tooth in their head.  
Well, we were all locked up close, like birds in a cage, but to no end and purpose in the world; for they found us to be all true () blades, not one false one 
(a) In Spain, all your Sword-blades, are of one length, otherwise they be held unlawful, and are forfeited to the justice. Proverb.  amongst us all, but according to the right mark, just and even to a hair. This storm was overpassed with us, but not my Lords care; For, I can assure you, our Master was wonderful desirous to come to the true knowledge hereof; And by reason of the great stir that was made about it; I did refrain for some few days, till this business might be overblown, and that the matter was in a manner quite forgotten, y ●…uuiesse otro asno verda; And that I might have some fair occasion to have another fling at them.  
Well, I durst not for a pretty while after put my hand to the Chest, nor once offer to cast so much as an eye towards it. But that crookedness, which a tree once taketh in its tender growth, the bigger it grows, the crookeder it is, waxing still worse and worse; And therefore those Knavish tricks, which I had learned in my youth, were so deeply imprinted in me, that they could not be blotted out. So that I was as well able to live without them, as without drawing air, and fetching of my breath: Especially in those things, whereunto I had been accustomed from a child; for I had been long practised in them, and they pleased me passing well, and I took such delight and pleasure in them, as in nothing more.  
In a word, I must up into the Saddle again, though it cost me another fall I could not choose but go visit my sweet friends, to see how they did; I got me again to my old haunt, to see what good game I could find.  
One day then amongst the rest, when my Master was at play, I thought with myself, that my master could not (would he never so fain shift them off) but keep those Cardinal's company, that were come in kindness to see him. This Chest stood in a by-room, within his bedchamber, much after the manner of a Closet.  
Now, I had no sooner trust up my doublet, and tucked up the sleeve of my shirt, and thrust in mine arm as far I could reach, but my Lord had list to make water. Whereupon he rose up, and came into his Chamber, and not finding any of his Pages there, he went and took the Urinal himself, which stood at his bed's head, and whilst he was making water, it was my ill hap to hear him: which sudden and unexpected accident did so startle me, and affright me, that going about to get out mine arm quickly (that I mightnot be taken in the manner) making (as it seemed) more haste then good speed, my round Rouler fell rumbling on the floor, the Chest, that presently shuts itself upon me, while mine arm, like a Sparrow in a Pitfall, or a Mouse in a Trap, is taken prisoner betwixt the lock and the lid, where it was held too fast to get forth in haste. At the noise of the fall, my Lord asked, Who's there? I could do no less then make answer to his call, but the Devil a foot that I could stir to come forth unto him. Thereupon he comes in, finding me upon my knees, stealing the Honeycombs out of his Hive. He demanded of me, what I made there? I confessed the whole matter how it was, and without any more ado (for I saw there was no fence for it) I told him the whole truth of the business. But when he saw how prettily I was taken, the more he looked upon me, the more desire he had to laugh; and to make his mirth the fuller, he called to those, that were in the next room at play, that they likewise might come & see, how the bird hung by the wing, & could not get loose. When they saw how I was caught, they all fell a laughing, as though their hearts would have burst for want of breath; yet had they so much left at last, as to entreat his Lordship, that this fault might be forgiven me, as being the first that I had offended him in; & the rather, for that it is given to all Youth, to have a likorish tooth. My Lord stood off, and would by no means be brought to yield; no entreaty would serve the turn, I must be whipped, there was no remedy, but I must be brought to the block.  
Well, when they saw they could not procure my pardon, than they grew to a new Consultation, touching the number of the stripes; whereon they were so long a devising, as if it had been a thing contained in the Decretals, or some Pontificial Act, that they had seriously sat on. In the end, the number concluded on in this Conclave of Cardinals, was twelve, a full dozen I was to have, neither more nor less. And the care of this payment was committed to Sir Nicholas, my Lord's Secretary, my mortal enemy, who presently carried me away to his Chamber, and laid them on so sound, and withso good a will, that for a fortnight after I was not able to sit upon my breech; but he did not go so clear away with this business as he thought he should, for it was not long ere I did cry quittance with him, and returned this payment sevenfold into his own bosom; so that he had no great cause, by that time I had done with him, to brag of his bargain. And that I may not delay you any longer, this trick anon after I put upon him.  
My gentleman was much troubled with 
a Lat: Culex. A Gnat, which the Spaniards call by the name of Mosquito. They bum more, and s●…ing and bite worse in that Country, than here with us, leaving knobs and bunches in the face.  Mosquitoes, which did so persecute him, that he could not sleep for them, they did so disquiet and torment him; All Rome did swarm with them, and in our house we had reasonable good store.  
Whereupon, (hearing him complain much of them, and how he was bitten and vexed by them) I told him I would give him a remedy, which we did use in Spain; wherewithal to destroy this troublesome Vermin. He thanked me for it, and entreated me very earnestly, that I would do him the kindness to give it him. I told him, that he should get him a good bundle of 
b The Spanish word●…, Peregil. del number. Lat: Petroselinum. Apio minudo, que se cria ●…tre las penas; Deste se baze la sal. sa, que llamamos, Peregil. y se echa en los quisadoes, y en las ensaladas. It is tak●…n diversely, sometimes for Parsley, sometimes for Smallage, and sometimes for Sa●…piere. Guzman crye●… quittance with the Secretary.  Petroselinum, and having steeped it well in good Wine-Vineger, he should put it at his bed's head, to the smell whereof all the Mosquitoes would come; whereupon, as soon as ever they lighted, they would presently fall down dead. He believed me, and presently puts it in practice. But when he was gone to bed, and had laid himself down to sleep, such a swarm of these buzzing busy Flies came flying about his ears all the night long, and did so plague and torment him, as if they had pulled out his eyes with Pincers, and held him by the nose with corne-tongs, as Saint Dunstan did the Devil.  
Whilst they were thus nibbling on his nose, eyes, and all the other parts of his face; he bestowed a thousand buffets on his cheeks, thinking with those smart claps to kill these angry creatures; and persuading himself that they would die at last, when they lighted upon the receipt, that was prepared for them, he passed away the time as well as he could until the morning.  
But the next night after (because this remedy had not drawn only those of the house thither; but all the rest of the Mosquitoes, that were bordering thereabout) they did so be-peps him, that not only his face was most vilely disfigured therewith, but all the rest of the parts of his body, whereunto they were able to reach, (for some they could not come at for the clothes,) were taken in that excessive manner, so be-pimpled, and so be-spotted, that he was forced to forsake his lodging, and to get him gone with all the speed he could.  
The Secretary was madded at the matter, and could have found in his heart to have killed me.  
But my Lord, when he looked upon this ill-favoured faced knave, and saw that he seemed so like a Leper (for he had not one free place about him, but like a Leopard spotted all over) and that I durst not appear for fear, but played least in sight, he was ready to burst himself with laughing, when he heard that I had put this jest upon him.  
Whereupon, commanding me to be called in, when I came, he asked me, why I had offered the Secretary so great an affront, and had thus played the wag with him?  
Whereunto I answered; Your Lordship may be pleased to remember that you commanded him to give me a dozen lashes about the business of the Sweetmeats. His Commission reached no further. But I remember very well, how he than used me. For what he gave me in gross, I told out by retail, one by one, as a matter much importing my posteriors. Besides, I know it was not your Lordship's pleasure (as a thing contrary to your mild and gentle disposition) that they should be the stripes of death: but such as my tender years were able to bear. But el Domine Nicolao, my Worshipful good friend Sir Nicholas, that he might not be taxed for abad paymaster, gave me twenty good sound lashes, the last being more cruel than the first. And so having exceeded not only his Commission, but common humanity, I thought I had just cause to cry quittance with him: And thus as you see (whereat I hope your Lordship will not be offended) I have revenged the Weals on my breech, by returning them on his face. He was the man that stung me, and I got others to sting him. And I hope, my Lord, this is but one for another. Only the difference is, that he did prosecute this suit against me in his own person, and I against him by my Attorney.  
This was passed over as a jest, and I heard no more of it. And for that, by reason of my former bold attempt, I was not only beaten, but banished 
Guzman banished the Cardinal's Chamber.  from the service of his Lordship's Chamber; I waited in the mean while (during this his displeasure) upon his Lordship's Chamberlain.   

CHAPTER VIII.  
Guzman de Alfarache revenges a trick which the Secretary had put upon the Chamberlain, whom he then attended. He tells a tale of Shame and Fear; What it is, and how painted forth. He is received again into the Cardinal's service. And how finely he cozened him of a Barrel of Conserves.  
MY new Master was a merry pleasant Gentleman, without any gall or malice in the world, set all upon sport and good fellowship, there was no harm in him in the earth, no fraud, no deceit; but was a man of the old making, an honest true Trojan, without any tricks or jigs, just in his dealings, and as plain as any Pack-staffe. I knew no fault in him, unless it were a little choler; he was somewhat too touchy, and would (which was the rendernesse of his nature) quickly be tinded. Whereunto I may add his oue●…alous and suspicious nature, which would make him many times to imagine things to be otherwise then they were meant, it being the condition of such dispositions to interpret all things to the worst. Quit him of these two qualities, (which were not overmuch inherent in him) and there was not a fairer conditioned man to converse withal; if you would have sought a whole Country, you could not have met with his fellow.  
This Bonus Socius had but poor Parents, to whom he daily sent his own allowance, and now and then he would either dine or sup with them, as he did the night before that happened unto him, which you shall hear by and by.  
What with his drinking of water, and eating certain Taxarinas (which is a kind of meat made of Paste, cut out into slices, boiled with the fat of Birds, and seasoned with Pepper) he came not home half well, and complaining of the craziness of his stomach, he went directly to his Chamber, and got him forthwith to bed.  
Now his Lord, missing him at supper, asked for him: They told him how it was with him. He sent one of his Gentlemen to visit him, and to bring him word how he did.  
To which message he made answer, that he did not find himself well, but he hoped in God, he should be well the next morning, being much comforted that his Lordship had been pleased so far forth to grace his servant, as to send unto him, to know how he did, for which favour he rested much bound unto his Lordship, returning the Messenger, with all humble thanks, and the best remembrance of his love and service.  
Thus this matter passed for the present. The morrow after I went to the house of his Parents, with some provision for their dinner, one of my fellows remaining with him, who was brushing of his clothes against his Master should rise.  
He, and the Secretary used to break many jests one upon another, and many 
The jest that the Secretary put upon Guzman's Master.  merry passages passed between them; And, because they were harmless, and without any prejudice to either, my Lord was so far from misliking them, that he took much delight and pleasure in them.  
The Secretary, as soon as he was up and ready, went towards his Chamber, and meeting with my fellow, who was there ready at hand, waiting when he should be called for, asked him; How his Master did? He made answer, That his Master was newly fall'n asleep, and that he had not taken one hours rest all that night, but that now (God be thanked) he slept sound, and well hoped that the worst was passed.  
It is well (said the Secretary) and seeing it is so, its pity to wake him; but in the mean while, till he be ready to rise, (which I presume will not be with the soon) I prithee let me entreat thee to go a little way with a servant of mine, to help him to bring home a certain commodity for me, which he cannot well do alone, and make all the haste I pray that you can, for I will tarry here till you come, lest your Master might chance to wake and call for you. The young Lad did as he desired, and went his way.  
Now the Secretary, taking hold on this occasion, that his friend had that night supped abroad, and was not in his Lordship's presence, (as he was wont to be) that he might have him in his eye, as he sat at supper: devised with himself how he might put some pretty jest upon him: and at last the conception of his brain, brought forth this merry Babe. He dresses me a pretty Youth in woman's apparel, attired in the habit of a Courtesan, and places this Boy softly and secretly behind his bed. Now this honest man was all this while fast asleep, and the entrance was free and open unto him, whilst the Secretary, for the more surety, went in first himself without being heard; and afterwards taking this Youth by the hand, led him softly along, and there he hid himself close behind the bed, as he had been before instructed, and there he remained quiet, not so much as offering once to stir.  
This being done, the Secretary went forth, and going to seek out his Lord, he found him a walking, saying of some prayers to himself, as his manner was; who as soon as he saw him, his Lordship demanded of him, how the Chamberlain did? Who told him; I inquired thereof but now, and his servant told me, that he hath not been well all this night; And I do not much marvel at it; for being with him last night, before I went to bed to see how he did, I talked unto him, but me thought he answered me with an ill will. What ails him, I know not. There is something in it more than ordinary, what ever it be; farther I cannot inform your Lordship.  
The Cardinal (who was charity itself) presently thereupon made haste to visit him. And when he had set himself down by him, close to his bed's head, the Youth comes me out from behind the Hangings of the bed, and cries out; Woe is me, most wretched and unfortunate Woman; What shall I do? Pardon me (good Sir) for I must be gone, for it is late, and I am afraid my husband will miss me. And with that, she went her way, passing through the midst of all the Cardinal's servants, attending there upon his Lordship.  
The Cardinal, who thought him to be a Saint, began to bless himself, and was much amazed thereat. And the Chamberlain, he on the other side, was as much astonished, taking it to have been some Vision, or strange Apparition. He first crosses himself, then cries out, JESUS! The Devil, the Devil: and therewith leapt out of his bed in his Shirt, running up and down the room, as if he had been out of his wits.  
The Secretary, and some other, that were privy thereunto, fell a smiling, and had much ado to forbear laughing outright; whereby the Cardinal perceived, that it was merely a jest, and they did not stick to confess as much, telling the whole truth of the matter, and how it was carried.  
But the Chamberlain could not stand still, but ran up and down from place to place, not knowing which way to turn himself. And albeit they did all labour to quiet him, yet for all that they could do; they could not in haste bring him to himself again: but was much abashed; and mightily ashamed of this scoff and jest that was put upon him; and the more, for that it was in the presence of his Lord. But in the end (like a good Courtier) he dissembled it as well as he could. And the Cardinal went away blessing himself, and laughed heartily as he want along at this conceited merriment.  
Now, by that time I was come back, all this business was overpassed: But I was as sensible of it, as if they had given me so many stripes. And the Chamberlain would with all his heart have parted with the best eye in his head, to be fully revenged on him.  
But when he saw, that I looked somewhat sad upon the matter (himself being likewise no less heavy) he said unto me; What thinkest thou (Guzmanillo) of the wrong that these Villains have done me? To whom I made answer; They have done well, Sir, and played their parts with you very finely, what would you more? But if they had used me so scurvily as they have done you, I verily persuade myself, that his Holiness should not need to enjoin them any penance for this offence; nor would I leave it to mine Heirs in my last Will and Testament to repay this debt, but I would quit scores with them myself, and pay them home with advantage: And ere I had done with them, they should very well put that in their eye, which they should get by the reckoning. They all knew me to be a notable Wag, and that I had an unhappy wit of mine own for all kind of knavery.  
But why do I spend the time in talk, when my Lungs are ready to leap out at my throat, and swell with fullness of breath, out of the desire they to have vent something? But I kept myself aloof, and was tender to touch upon that string, as being loath to advise and counsel him what to do, not holding it lawful for a Page to revenge the injuries of a grave Minister upon another that is his equal, And cada oveja con su pareja. Like with like doth well. For it is no good jesting with a man's betters. One was enough for 
Proverb. Let every m●…n meddle with his match.  me, which might the better be borne withal, because it was in causa proprie; I was touched in mine own person, and therefore had the more reason to right myself.  
But in this particular, why should I wilfully entangle myself in that net, whence I should not afterwards be able to escape, with less than the laying on of many a sound lash; or to come forth with mine ears four fingers longer than they went in, or with the loss of the hair of my head? I therefore held my peace, and kept me quiet. But I, who was naturally of a hot and boiling spirit, being often importuned by him, he making me great offers and large promises, giving me besides to understand, that the Cardinal should know, that it was a child of mine own begetting, and the workmanship of mine own hands, in defence of him who was then my Master, I resolved with myself to enter into the Action, and to undertake this business in his behalf, and to be the sole Plotter and contriver thereof myself. And so I let some few days pass over, waiting for some fair occasion that might give warmth for the hatching of this bird.  
When I had found (as I thought) a fit time, and that the Ordinary Post of Spain was to depart, the Secretary was very busy about his dispatches, which required haste. I bought me then a little Rosin, Frankincense, and Mastic, I pounded it, and sifted it all together, till I had wrought it fine, and as small as any Meal. The Secretary's servant was that morning busied about his Master's clothes, brushing and making of them clean with all the speed he could. To him go I, telling him; Dost thou hear (honest jacobo) I am 
Guzman's jest that he put upon the Secretary, to revenge his Master's quarrel.  come to tell thee, that I have a dainty piece of Bacon on the Spit, it is now ready, Bread I have likewise provided, there is nothing wanting but Wine, if thou wilt find that, thou shalt share with me; if not, pardon me, for I shall seek out one that will. He quickly replied: No, (good Guzman) no, do not so, for I will give thee Wine to it. Go to then (quoth I) stay thou here; for I will presently be with both it, and thee.  
Whilst that he went to the 
a Despensa. El lugar, donde se ponen la●… cosas, que se traen para comer, y beaver. Such places properly belong only to Ambassadors of Princes, or to great Dukes, and not to ordinary persons.  Dispense for wine, I took forth my paper of Powders, & turning the inside of the Breeches outward, I besprinkled them with a little wine, which I carried about me in a little round glass Vial, and threw good store of these my prepared Powders upon them: which when I had done according to my mind, I turned the Breeches again, putting them just in the same order they were in, when the Youth left them. He returned anon after with a good jar of Wine, and before he could speak unto me, his Master called for him to come in, and bring him his clothes, for he would rise. He left the Wine with me, and I him within. Where they were both so busy about their Papers, that it was noon before they had dispatched, & were ready to come forth. The Secretary was a very hairy man of his body; & the Powders began to play their part, & to work their effect. The Dog-days were then come in, and with the extremity of those heats, they wrought so upon his body, that from the girdle downwards he was as if it had been a Cerecloth of Pitch, which clung so close unto him, and was grown so stiff withal, that he was terribly tormented therewith, for every hair did give him such a twinge when he did but move, or when with some sudden reach they did rend and unroot themselves from the flesh, that the tearing of every several hair seemed unto him, the plucking out of so many eyes out of his head.  
When he saw in what case he was, he began to call his people about him, to know the cause thereof, but none of them could tell, nor were able to answer to that account, till that the Chamberlain came in, and told him; Sir, this is Quid pro quo; one for another; Qui moccat, moccabitur. Harm watch, harm catch.  
This, sir, is called, The beating of the Fencer out of his School. You see for all your cunning, you may take a knock as well as another man. It is but blow for blow; you have given me one Venew, and I have given you another. And so let us shake hands and be friends.  
Well, (to be brief) the jest ended in this, that they were fain to get a pair of Sizars, and go cutting hair after hair, which was work enough for two of his servants, and yet were forced in the end to unrip his Breeches, that they might come the better to clip away the hairs.  
This jest took better than the former, because it was a little tarter than the other, and stuck closer unto him. By virtue of this, I received the confirmation of my Knavery, and was taken ever after for the same man I was; So that all did seek to fly from my jests, as they would fly from the Plague.  
Two months of my banishment were now past and gone. After which expiration of time, I returned again to my former Office; but with the same 
Guzman received again into the Cardinal's service. A Fable touching Modesty.  little Modesty, and fear of doing evil, as before. You may haply have heard tell of that tale, when Modesty, the Air and the Water took leave one of another. Who at their parting, ask where they should meet again and see each other: the Air said, that they should find her on the tops of Hills; The Water, that they should be sure of her, in the bowels of the Earth. But Modesty, that she being once gone from them, it was impossible to meet with her any more. I have lost her, she is quite gone from me, and without any hope of ever returning. But it makes no matter. A quien le falta, la Villa es suya, Where she is away, the Town is ours. 
Proverb.   
Who would not have been feared with those former proceedings, and fully resolved with himself never to do the like again? But what my amendment was, I shall deliver unto you, and what happened unto me thereupon. I had certain sweet guts in my belly, and so made and accustomed thereunto, that those days that I missed of my sweetmeats, was a taking of water from the sick, or Wine from a Drunkard. I would have ventured the breaking of my neck from the top of 
a A Castle in Rome. Proverb.  Santo Angelo, rather than I would not down to steal them, if they were to be had upon the face of the earth. And hence is it; Queen quien teme la muerte, no gozala vida. That he that fears Death, does not enjoy his life. If fear would have made me turn coward, I had never tasted that so sweet a life. I cast up my account, and made this reckoning with myself; Suppose they should take me again with the like? What can they do unto me? or what hurt can come of it? I have always observed, that Fear is painted feeble, leane-visaged, staring-hayred, pale-coloured, sad-countenanced, heavy, melancholy, naked, fearful, and not daring either to say, or do that, which it fain would, and most of all desireth.  
Fear is a servile Act, only proper unto slaves; it enterpriseth nothing; nor doth any thing succeed well, that it undertaketh; and is like unto a cowardly 
Fear, how painted: And what manner of thing it is?  cur, which knoweth better to bark then to bite. Fear is the soul's hangman; and it is but foolishness, to fear that which cannot be avoided.  
In a word, it was impossible for me (such was my condition) to abstain from being in Action; I was not able to contain myself. Happen what may happen; Come what will come; all was one to me. I said to myself; Audaces fortuna iwat; Fortune befriends brave spirits. Let the worst come to the worst; fall back, or fall edge, I was sure to pay for it only in my person, and not in my goods, either movable, or unmoveable; for it was not Gods will, that I should have any land of mine own, whereon to settle myself, and make my certain abode; nor any Se-moventes, such things as could move of themselves, and keep me company, whither-soever I should go. My Lord was a great lover of your moist Suckets, and such liquid Conserves, as they use to bring from the Canaries in little Barrels, or from the Lands of the Ter●…ras; Which Barrels, when they were empty, were thrown aside, and no reckoning made of them, lying here and there in every corner as good for nothing. I had got me one of these, containing about half an 
a Arroba, Is five and twenty pound weight. It is an Arabic word, Errubun, which is a fourth part of the Verb Rebbea, To part into four parts. And according to this, an Arroba must be in weight, the fourth part of a hundred. It hath its root from the Heb: Rubaat. Quadrum vel quarta pars. In liquidis, est apud Hispanos, octo açumbres. i. 8. ●…nophororum.  Arroba, which served me in stead of a Trunk, wherein I kept my Cards, my Dice, Garters, Points, Cuffs, Handkerchiefs, and other things befitting a poor Page.  
The Cardinal (as he was sitting one day at dinner,) commanded his Steward, that he should go amongst the Merchants, and buy him some three or four 
b Quintal, A hundred pound weight. Centipondium.  Quintals, of those that were the newest and the freshest, and but lately brought in. When I heard him say so, I began presently to cast about with myself, how I might make myself Master of one of these Barrels. The Cloth was taken away, the Cardinal risen, all gone to dinner: and whilst they were busy at their victuals, I got me into my Chamber, and in the twinkling of an eye, before you could well say This, I clapped me within that Barrel which I had, as many old rags, dust, gravel, or whatsoever other trash came first to hand, till I had filled it brimful, and thrust it down as hard as I could for my life to make it lie the closer. This done, on went the head, than the hoops, making all fast and sure, so that it was now as handsomely fitted up as heart could wish, and no man that should have seen it, but would have sworn (it was so artificially handled) that it had been newly brought from the Indies stuffed with roots of 
c The Spanish word is, Escorzonera. This Herb the Latins call Riperina. Of this you may read at large in Covarrwias'. Verb Escorzonera. Guzman plots to play the thief. His crafty and cunning carriage.  Tragopogum, or Goat's beard, (as some call it) which is good against poison.  
When I had trimmed it up, and made it feat and fit, I let it alone, having still an eye, and standing as Sentinel, to watch what success this project of mine might take.  
Now, (as good luck would have it) behold, about the Evening I did des●…y two 
d Mulo grande, y de hueso para litera, ò carga de repuesto. Covar. p. 108.  Azemilas which came along laden with Conserves, who were no sooner entered within doors, but they were eased presently of their burden. The Steward commanded the Pages to carry them into the Cardinal's lodgings.  
I had now a fight of Fortune's foretop, and boldly told her, You shall not go from me, till I have taken hold of your hair. And as I was speaking, I took up one of the Barrels and laid it upon my shoulders, as the rest of my fellows did, but lagging a little behind, giving them leave to go before me: as soon as I was come right over against mine own chamber door, I suddenly slipped in, when I saw the coast was clear, and took out that other which I bore to my Lord's lodging; and so I made my three returns, giving a good account of all my lading.  
When the last was come up, I stood very soberly in the Hall, where my Lord Cardinal was, who said unto me: What think you of this fruit (Guzmanillo?) you cannot put in your hand here, your Wedges will not serve your turn. I replied to that point, & told him; My good Lord; Donde no valen 〈◊〉, aprou●…chom unnas. Where the Wedge nought prevails, woe must make use of our nails; if one thing will not do the deed, another must. And though mine arm cannot get in, my hand may, and that's enough for 〈◊〉, I will desire no more.  
Very good Sir (said my Lord) but as they are now, neither your arm, nor your hand will stand you in stead.  
There lies the skill, quoth I to my Lord; for if they were otherwise 〈◊〉 to be opened, I would not care a button for them, there is no pleasure in such a●…ase. In matters of difficulty, your good wits come to their trial, which only show themselves in things of great importance, and not in dri●…ing a nail into the wall, or in pulling on of a pair of shoes, things easy to be done, and which naturally offer themselves unto us at the first sight.  
●…ist thou me so (quoth my Lord?) well, I will once set your wits a wor●…g. If within these eight days you shall show yourself so nimble-witted, as to 〈◊〉 one of these from me, I will bestow it on thee for thy labour, and thou shalt have another besides into the bargain: But if thou shalt fail therein, thou shalt then bind thyself to receive such punishment, as shall be agreed upon.  
My Lord, said I; eight days, why, eight days is a man's life; it is time enough of conscience. The business will be too long a doing; and it may be, by putting it off to so large a time, we may either grow cold in the bargain, or the memory of it die, and be no more thought upon.  
I accept the favour offered me by your Lordship, and if to morrow by this time I shall not finish this business, I shall willingly resign up myself into the Secretary's hands, to be punished at his discretion; Because I assure myself, that he would willingly have the tawing of me, that he might revenge himself upon me for the late passage that I put upon him to his great grie●…e: for the sent of the Pitch is not yet gone from him, nor his hairs come again.  
My Lord laughed, and so did they that were about him. And thus the bargain was driven between us for the next day following. But because I was already on the forehand, and was well assured of the business, I could, if I would, have presently cleared myself of this debt, but I was willing to let the bond run on, till the time it was due.  
The board was covered, and my Lord was now set down to dinner, feeding on such things at first, which I brought in, to procure him the better appetite to his meat; and looking me in the face, he smilingly said unto me, Guzmanillo, it is but a little now to night; That come, your time is past. What will you give me now to be freed of your bargain? Master Nicolao hath rods in piss for you, and is provided for your payment. And me thinks that he is plotting, how he may be revenged of thee, and thou, how thou mayst satisfy thyself upon him. If I might advise, my counsel should be, that he should not deal with thee, not so much for thy sake, as his own. Whereunto I answered; I am sure (my Lord) that my punishment is in the Secretary's hands: But I am not yet sure that the Conserves are in mine. Yet if I had store of money to set upon this cast, and had aught to lose more than the poorness of my person, I would venture it all for this once, because I am very confident of my Chance.  
Thus dinner passed on till the last course was almost ended, and ready to be taken away; at which time, I went to the Court-cupboord, and taking from thence a Siluer-plate, I filled it with the Conserves of that barrel which I had stolen, and therewith I came to the Table, and set them down before his Lordship.  
When my Lord saw, what I had brought him, he blest himself, and began to wonder much at the matter, for he himself had the barrels in his own custody, they were within his own lodgings, and there he kept them (as he thought) safe enough. He would trust no body with them, in regard of the bargain that was driven between us: He kept the key himself; he bore it always about him. At last he calls the Chamberlain unto him, and wils him to go in, and to count the Barrels, and to see if any of them were opened, or ill-conditioned.  
He went in, and finding them both in number and place, to be just the same as at their first putting in, he came forth again, and told his Lordship the tale was whole and entire, not a barrel that was missing, and that they were sound and well-conditioned, and not the least suspicion to be had (for aught that he could perceive) amongst them all, no not so much as the least hair of his head. Ah, ah, ah, said my Lord, this trick will not serve your tu●…▪ this is a very poor one. Thou wouldst make us believe, that thou hast taken that out of one of the Barrels, which thou hast bought with thy money.  
With that he turned himself towards the Secretary, and told him, Domine Nicolao, I astigne Guzmanillo over unto you, to do what you list with him, and to punish him as you think fit, for that he hath lost his wager.  
The Secretary made answer, May it please your Lordship to take the correction of him into your own hands, and to dispose of him as you please; for I for my part will have no more to do with him, I will not come near him, nor his shadow, I dare not; I have had too much of him already: And if I should now tickle upon a new score, and make him pay for the old and this together, I should gain nothing by the reckoning; for I hold him to be of that unhappy and dangerous, both wit and nature, that he would in revenge convey the next time a nest of Hornets into my breeches, or some other venomous vermin, that should either poison me, or sting me to death. And therefore if your Lordship put him over unto me, and leave his punishment to my discretion, I freely absolve him thereof, and am willing to embrace his friendship.  
I have not as yet (said I) offended in that degree, that I had need of absolution. Where there is no matter to work upon, it is needless to seek to introduce a form. I am as good as my word, and have performed what I promised; the wager is mine, I have won it. And if this be not true that I speak, and that I make it not plainly to appear unto you, punish me at your pleasure, I ask no favour at your hands. De que siruen las palabras, donde ay 
Proverb.  ●…bras? What need words, where there are Works? I say, and say it again, and that confidently, that this Conserve is of that which was brought in yesterday; and not only this, but a whole Barrel thereof is now at this present whole and untouched in my chamber, save this little that I have set before his Lordship.  
The Cardinal crossed himself, and wondered how this should be. And until dinner was done, and the table taken away, he did nothing else but bless himself with both his hands. And being desirous to be certified of the truth thereof, he rose up, and went into his lodging to be an eyewitness of it himself. He looked upon all the Barrels, whereon he had set certain marks, he found them faithful and true the number full and just, the key in his own custody, and could not devose how this should be.  
Hereupon he did verily believe, that I had bought a barrel of the very same Conserves, as his were, and said unto me; Guzmanillo, dost not thou thyself know, that thou broughtest in thus many hither? count them now, and see if they be not right. I did so; And when I had done telling, I told him; My Lord, here is the full number. Pero de lo contado, come el lobo. But it is like the Shepherd's numbering of his Sheep; whereof, when he hath cast 
Proverb.  up his reckoning, he shall find that the Wolf hath met with one of them by the way. I see they are well, but not all so well as they should be. And that you may see I tell you no lie, let that be brought hither which is in my Chamber, and let this be opened that stands there, and you shall find that I have changed the one for the other.  
They opened it, whereby they discovered as well the truth, as the wit I had used therein. For the dust, the gravel, the old rags, and the like trumpery which I had filled it withal, did manifest as much.  
They remained all, as men amazed, not knowing what to think of it, nor being able for their lives, to imagine how this should be brought about. They did all ask me the question, but I would not acquaint any of them with it: But presently besought his Lordship, that he would be pleased to perform his promise with me. He did so. So that I had that and one more, which were two in the whole.  
And because they should know that I carried a Noble mind, as it was delivered to me with the one hand, so I gave it with another to my fellow-Pages, who divided it amongst them. And howbeit my Lord was somewhat offended at the fineness of my theft, yet he did much more wonder at my liberality, and thought the better of me for this my free disposition. He was much afraid of these cunning and subtle tricks of mine, and questionless would have then put me away, but that he was so good and holy a man; and therefore considered with himself; If I should now cast off this young fellow, some great misfortune will befall him, by reason of his mis-demeanour. These things that he hath done here in mine own house, are but idle tricks of his youth, and I am ne'reawhit the poorer for them. It is less harm that he should hurt me in a little, then through want, offend others in much. And out of this apprehension, he did (the better to dissemble what was passed) make of this Vice a Virtue. And it is great wisdom in any man, when a hurt may be healed, for to cure it; and to remedy those things that may be remedied: if not, to dissemble it the best he can. He made himself merry with it: And as often as any Princes and great Lords came to visit him, as occasion was offered, he would not stick to make report thereof unto them.   

CHAP. IX.  
Guzman de Alfarache treats of Charity: Discourseth of Masters, kind, and unkind: Telleth of another theft of Conserves. His exercises, and distastes, being a Page. He recounteth the tricks he used at Primera. That it is good to know play; but better not to use any gaming at all. And how for playing he was put out of the Cardinal's service. And how proud-ignorance is the cause of all evil.  
THe Ordination of Charity (howbeit I have pointed at it heretofore) had its first beginning from God. Next in 
Charity, and its 〈◊〉.  order follows that of Fathers and Mothers, then of children, and after them of servants; who if they be good, are more to be made of, and to be better beloved, than children that are bad. And because my Lord had no children, he did dear love those that served him, and was very tender over them; placing (next after God, and his Image, which is the poor) all his love upon them. 
The poor are Gods own image. The fruits of Charity.   
He was generally charitable towards all men; as being the first fruit of the Holy Ghost, and the first fire that inflameth man's soul. It is the prime good of all other goodness, that flows from our actions; it is the first beginning of a happy ending. It contains in it Faith and Hope; it is the way that leads to Heaven; it is the bond that binds God unto Man; it is the worker of Miracles; it is the scourge of Pride; and the fountain of Wisdom.  
My Lord did desire so much my amendment, as if his own had lain upon it. He sought to oblige me unto him by love, that he might not affright me with fear. And for to try, if he could reduce me to a virtuous course of life, he did (that he might remove from me all occasion of longing) regalar me at his own Table, feeding me from his own Plate with all the choicest dainties and delicacies, and with all manner of sweet Meats: there was not the thing that he did eat of, whereof I had not my share, telling me in gentle terms; Guzmanillo, I give thee this, to be at truce with thee, in token of peace and amity: Behold that I, as well as my Secretary, will hold no contention with thee. Content thyself with this morsel, whereby I acknowledge myself to be thy Vassal, bestowing this upon thee by way of Tribute. This would he smilingly utter, and with a pleasing countenance, without respect 
L●…ing Masters.  of whosoever sat at Table with him, were they never so great persons, or of what quality or condition soever. He was a marvellous kind Gentleman, he treated, and esteemed his servants well, he favoured, and loved them exceedingly, doing for them as far as his ability would reach, so that all of them did love him with their very heart and soul, and did do him all true and faithful service. For without all doubt, the Master that respecteth his servants, is well served by those servants: and if he pay them well, they will deserve their payment: but if he be loving and kind withal, they adore him as a God. Whereas on the contrary, if a Master be proud, a bad Paymaster, & unthankful to his servants, he shall neither have truth, nor love from them. They neither serve him with fear, nor entertain him 
Bad Masters.  with their love. He is abhorred, hated, scorned, made a common byword in the Marketplace, in the streets, in the Tribunals, and every public Assembly, discredited by all men, and defended by none.  
If Masters did but know, how much it did import them, to have good and honest servants, they would spare the meat out of their own bellies, to bestow it upon them; for they are true riches indeed; and he that hath a good servant, hath a great jewel. And it is impossible, that a servant should be diligent, with that Master that is not loving unto him.  
There were brought to my Lord from Genoa certain Boxes of Conserves, very great and large, they were richly gilded, and curiously wrought upon the 
Guzman's other theft of Conserves, with the story thereof.  top, as possibly could be desired, they were fresh and fair to look to, as being but newly finished; which Boxes upon the way had taken a little wet. When they were brought before him, it did me good to look upon them, and the rather, for that they were made and sent him by a kinswoman of his, who did ordinarily use to send him such kind of dainties. I was not in the house when they came, and while I was lacking, they entered before my return into a consultation, what they should do with them, and how, and where they were best to dry them, that they might have a safe conduct from my person, that I might not seize upon them: And the rather, for they must be forced to lay them abroad in the Sun, which would have run some danger, if they had clapped them up close in that 
a An Urn is an earthen Pitch▪, wherein the Romans enclosed as in a Coffin the Ashes of the dead.  Urn, wherein julius Caesar's ashes were put. Every one broached his opinion, but not one good one amongst them all. My Lord himself lighted upon one, and said; It matters not much, to study for a place, where to keep them safe; if we give the keeping of them to one, that will look well unto them, they will that way be safe, and no way else.  
They did all allow of my Lord's reason; And as soon as I came in, his Lordship called me unto him, and said; Guzmanillo, what were we best to do with these Conserves, which are come thus wet, that we may preserve them from being spoiled? The best course (my Lord) said I, in my poor opinion, is to eat them presently.  
And durst thou adventure (quoth he) to eat them all? I answered; It were no great matter so to do, if a man had time enough. But I am not so great a glutton, that now at this present I dare to venture alone upon so great and honourable a Muster as is here made before me.  
My pleasure then is (said he) that thou look unto them, and keep a true reckoning of them, laying them out every day abroad in the Sun. And here is no evasion for you, for they shall be delivered unto you by tale, and by tale I will look you shall return them unto me. Here you see them laid open before you, and how fair and full they be; and if any harm come unto them, or ought be missing, I shall easily know where the fault lies, and call you to account for it.  
I told him, that I was neither master of myself, nor them: I knew not what to do in this case, I was not mine own man; I had not power over myself; and that I was one of Eue's sons; and that being put into such a Paradise of Conserves, the Serpent of the flesh might tempt me to eat of this forbidden fruit.  
His Lordship replied then again, and told me; See (sirrah) that you look well to your charge; for I will expect, that you give them me, as I give them you: I must not have a piece missing, neither in number nor in weight, quality for quality, quantity for quantity, all whole and sound, or else you shall see what will come of it, and therefore I would wish you to look well what you do, and to use your best care.  
I than made bold to tell him; The Plea (my Lord) that is between us, depends not on this point; this is not the hinge, whereon it hangeth; For to return them unto you as they are, without finding any missing, or perceiving any hurt they have taken, that is a very easy thing, I can do that presently. But it is another point (my Lord) that I stand upon. What point I pray (says my Lord?) I told him; I put myself into great peril; for I am privy to mine own inclination and weakness, no man should better know mine own ability and strength than myself, and therefore (to deal plainly with your Lordship) if you will have me to comply with your Lordship's command, if my life lay on it, I shall not be able to hold my hands, I must needs taste of them, if not fill my belly.  
My Lord marvelling much at me, Well (quoth he) seeing it will be no otherwise, I will for once make trial how discreetly you will behave yourself; I shall see by this, what manner of man you be. I give thee therefore free liberty, that thou eat as much as thou hast a mind to for once, and no more, and that one time, I allow thee to fill thy belly as full as thou wilt thyself; but with this condition, that thou deliver them up afterwards unto me, without any defect or fault; and in case the contrary shall appear, thou shalt make me satisfaction in such payment, as I shall be pleased to appoint.  
I accepted of the condition of this Obligation; and thereupon they were all delivered up into my hands.  
The next day following, I laid them out in the Sun, in an open walk, and amongst the rest of these sweetmeats, there was one of the flowers of Oranges and Lemons, which offered itself to my view, it looked very lovingly upon me, as if it did desire to be better acquainted with me, and I who was loath to be behind hand in matter of courtesy, made towards it, took it in my hand, & with a little knife that I had about me, loosening those little tacks with which it was fastened beneath, and heaving it up daintily by degrees, till I had turned it up-side down, and that the lid lay downward, with that very knife, I took out almost the one half, from forth the bottom of it, returning to make it fast again as before, putting in place of the Conserves so much waste Paper, cut out so just to the same measure and proportion, that no man was able to perceive it.  
My Lord that night being minded to make a collation, I brought to his board four of the said Boxes, and asked him when I set them down, whether I had not looked well unto them? He told me; if the rest be like unto these, he was well contented with them. Whereupon I brought them all before him, and he was very well pleased when he saw them, because they were much drier than they were before, and better conditioned. With that I presently stepped aside, to go fetch a Plate, and on it I brought him all that I had stolen; for in very deed I had not tasted thereof the quantity of a Nut, having only done it for the ostentation of my wit.  
When he looked upon it, he asked me; What's this? I told him; I now divide with your Lordship, part of my theft. He replied; I willed thee, that thou shouldst fill thyself, and not filch: And therefore now you have lost.  
I answered, I have neither filled myself with it, nor so much as tasted what it is, nor do I think that I have lost by doing of this; for this is that, wherewith I mean to fill my belly. Besides, all that was stolen out of the Box, is yet whole, and entire, as you may very well perceive; but if, because I have showed myself honest, I must suffer for it, which way shall I walk to go right, if you bar me of the path wherein I ought to tread? My punishment does not trouble me, nor does it grieve me that I have lost, as long as I am persuaded I have won, howsoever I may be over-borne. But I will be wiser the nex●…time, and be sure to lose no more upon the like match.  
Nay (Guzmanillo) be not angry (said my Lord) I would not thou shouldst grieve or complain for this, I confess I have done thee wrong, and have blamed thee without a cause; but I prithee tell me (said he) out of which of all these Boxes didst thou take this forth? I put forth my hand, and told him; This is it (my Lord) and I showed him how and which way I did it.  
He was well pleased with the subtleness of my wit, but he could have wished that I had not had so much fineness in me, for he was afraid, lest one time or other, I would mis-imploy it to my greater hurt. He willed me to take the Box notwithstanding for my pains, and to carry it away with me.  
Many such things as these came from me; and he took pleasure both in them and me, as being sleights of the hand, using these juggling tricks more for sport then harm. If any of my fellows should chance to fall asleep, when he should wait and give attendance; they might the next day go buy them new shoes and stockings, for 
a The Spanish word is, Libramiento de çera. A Fly made of Wax burning, which Pages put on the shoes of those that sleep.  Flies of wax were sure to be their Cocks to wake them. Our exercise, was every day two hours in the morning, and two in the Evening, to hear our Schoolmaster read unto us, of whom I learned (for the time that I studied there) the Latin tongue; which I had reasonably perfect, I had a little Greek too, and some Hebrew. The rest of that vacant time, which we had from serving of our Master (which was, God knows, very little) we bestowed in reading of books, telling of tales, and in gaming. If we went forth a doors at any tine, it was only to cousin the 
b What a Bunolero is, I have margented elsewhere. Guzman's exercises being a Page. The distastes that Guzman had, whilst he was a Page.  Bunoleroes; and amongst the Cooks our credit was very good for Pye-meate. We would go a-nights to play the wags with the Courtesans, and to exercise our wits upon them, and to sing songs at their doors. And thus did I spend my time, till my beard began to bud.  
And howbeit it may seem perhaps to thee, a life of entertainment; and full of mirth, yet it was to me as if I had been tied to a stake, with a collar of iron about my neck, exposed to shame. All this was as a stink in my nose; none of these things could content me; night and day I did sigh for the loss of my former delights.  
But when I once began to write Man, and was able to gird a Sword to my side, I would have been glad of any augmentation of honour, whereby I might have gained some hope to have proceeded farther. And I verily persuade myself, that if my Actions had deserved it, I should not have wanted the means.  
But in stead of getting judgement, and doing things that were virtuous, for to gain men's good wills, and thereby to bind them unto me, I fell to gaming, 
Guzman's tricks at Primera.  even to the loss of my clothes from my black; and as I was somewhat of the freest, so was I too liberal in my play.  
I made it my study, to benefit myself by all tricks and cheating devices, that I could invent or learn; and especially when I played at Primera. How often when I went upon two Cards, would I take three, and conveying five now and then into my hand, would set up my rest upon the three best? How often would I take the last Card, and clapping it underneath, would see whether it were good for me or no, and in an instant look on the other already seen, and then make my best advantage of them, which was all one, as if I should have robbed a man upon the highway? How often would I have a 
c The Spanish word is Diacono, which though it properly signify a D●…, yet it is ●…ken more largely for any one that ministers help to a man. Covarrwias' verb. Diacono  friend sit by me, which should seem as if he were asleep, and should supply me with Cards under the board to serve my turn? How often had I a Copesmate that stood by, looking upon the others games, who would tell me what Cards they went upon, and what their game was? all which he signified unto me by such secret and cunning signs, that it was impossible for them to find it out. How often would I so set and pack the Cards, that I would deal to him that played against me two and fifty, and having an Ace to help me, would make myself five and fifty, or else with a five encounter four and fifty, and so either win the Game by one peep, or by the elder hand?  
Now when we were two against one, and played booty, and dealt the Cards one to another, how often taking the discarding Card, and clapping it on the top, would we play on till we could make our advantage of it? how by a beck or a nod, did we know how the world went? how to shuffle and mix the Cards so, as to make our game sure? how to set some privy mark or sign upon them, whereby to know them? how to know them by the corners, being bigger or less, and a thousand the like, which we made good use of either by the help of a slander by that shared with us, or by corrupting him that sold the Cards, which are ordinary things? O how many lewd pranks did I play in that kind? how many rogueries? how many villainies? there was not that cheating or cozening trick, which I was not acquainted withal and had at my finger's ends. And as I was perfect in the knowledge of them, so did I put them in practise when time served. For such is the blindness of play, that those that are crafty and cunning in their gaming, have a large field wherein to expatiate themselves, and to show their skill.  
And if it might be lawful (I say, lawful) that as in the Commonwealth, houses of sin are permitted, for the avoiding of greater inconveniences; there were appointed in every principal City or Town, Masters of this cozening and cheating Science, of whom, those that are addicted and given to play, might be taught and instructed, it were very good for the avoiding of deceit, and many a Gentleman would not be so easily fooled out of their money and means, as now they daily are. For our Sensuality suffers itself easily to be over come by Vice, and that is turned to an ill habit, and becomes a bad custom in the end, which at first was invented for a lawful exercise, and to pass away the time. And with reason may it be called a bad custom, when it shall be disorderly followed, and that men are too much wedded to gaming, altering the true intent and meaning thereof, and putting it out of its right bias.  
Gaming was first of all invented for the recreation of man's mind, and 
Gaming, made only for recreation.  for the refreshing of him himself, when he found himself wearied with the troubles and turmoils which accompany this life; and when it breaketh this rule, and passeth beyond its due bounds, it is wickedness, infamy, and theft. For it seldom happeneth, that it is not attended with these Attributes.  
I speak of those that are professed Gamesters, who make their living of it, as a man would do of an Office or a Trade, and make a continual practice of it. Notwithstanding, I could heartily wish, and it is one of my most earnest desires, that those would leave it off, and give over this excess of play, which are of the nobler sort, considering the hurt which may ensue thereupon, especially 
Gaming, to be shunned by Noblemen and Gentlemen; and wherefore?  seeing that ill is balanced with good; and that if he win, and the other lose, he is bound to give the loser leave to speak; to endure many bold and intemperate actions; to bear with many indiscreet both words and deeds, and other strange kind of gestures, and uncivil behaviour, which he is tied to suffer, only as he is a winner, not as he is a man of honour, who in things of another nature, will risent the least wrong that is done unto him Other things there are of like quality with these, which I dare not presume to press any farther, that not only for them, and those already mentioned, they ought to abhor gaming, but even those houses and Ordinaries, where Play is maintained.  
But being that our appetite is so unbridled, and our natural inclination thereunto so exorbitant, that it cannot in this kind altogether contain it 
It is good to know play. And why?  self, it shall not be amiss, but rather good and fitting, that a young man should know the Laws of play, learn the skill thereof, and understand all the tricks, and cheat that are used therein, that he may perceive when he meets with a Coney-catcher. And if such cheating companions once begin to lose, and that their metal melts away from them, let him pour the rest of his own moneys into his Boots, Breeches, Hand-wrest, Collar, Girdle, Bosom, Sleeves, or any other part about him, whether he can cleanliest convey it, that he may not lose his money like a beast. For besides the getting of it from him, they will laugh at him when they have done. One thing I was ever careful to observe; I would never sit down to play with a little money, nor for a little, nor with that man that would not adventure to get much, playing my money freely, without either offering, or taking of wrong.  
Well, I was so wholly given to gaming, and spent so much time therein, that I committed many faults. Nor is it possible, that a Gamester should perform 
A Gamester cannot serve and attend his Master as he should.  those duties which belong unto him, much less he that serves, and is tied to attendance. Neither do I know that Master that will give bread to that servant that is a Gamester. For if he manage his Master's affairs, and have either moneys of his in his hands, or other his goods committed to his charge, and that he chance to lose his own, he will play then upon his Master's purse, hoping to recover himself; and if peradventure he continue still on the losing hand, and hath not afterwards wherewithal to pay, he runs himself into greater danger than before, thinking that luck will turn, and so come to relieve his losses. But say, he is not trusted with any thing of his Masters, nor hath any thing of his to lose; yet is it not possible, that he should assist at those hours, when he ought to do him service, nor will he be in the way to be found, when need shall require, as it happened to myself.  
My Lord was grieved thereat to the very soul, nothing could prevail with me, neither admonitions, nor persuasions, nor words, nor promises, to remove 
The Cardinal shows himself a ●…d and loving Master.  this evil custom from me. And being one day (in my absence) with his household-servants about him, he told them, how well he wished me, and the great desire that he had of my good. And seeing that I could not be reclaimed by fair means, his purpose was by some one device or other to bring me to be a reformed man. And the plot was, that by discharging me from his service and putting me out of his house for some certain days, it might be, that calling my lewd courses to mind, and seeing mine own errors in the end, I might come to a truer feeling of my misery, and by that means be drawn to amendment of life: yet would he not, that my allowance should be taken from me, lest for want of means, I might through necessity be driven to do some dishonest act or other. O how singular a virtue was this in so great a Prince! how worthy of eternal praise, & how fit to be imitated by all those, that desire to be well and truly served! And certainly, it is impossible, but that servants (unless they be such as I was) would be willing to lay down a thousand lives (if they were Masters of so many) to give but any the least content to such kind and loving Masters.  
Well, I was driven by this means to my shifts, and wanted meat to put in my mouth. O Lord, let it ever be in my Litany, that thou wilt deliver me 
Want of food causeth much evil.  from this evil. Other wants have some trouble with them. But when a man hath a good stomach, and wanteth meat, is extreme hungry, and hath not wherewithal to fill his Maw; to see the hour of eating come, and he to remain fasting; to pass over the day from morning to night, and not to find whereon to feed; these (I say) are such things, as would make a man do any thing, be it never so dishonest; Cloaks, Hats, and all walk then, (though it be but for half they are worth, what shift so ever we make to come by other.  
This misery befell me, and that in a very troublesome time: For having spent a whole day and night in play, and having lost all the money that I had, 
Guzman plays away his clothes.  and when that was gone, all my clothes, having nothing left me to cover my nakedness, but a poor thin Doublet, and a pair of white linen Drawers, when I saw myself in this poor taking, I retired myself into my Chamber, not daring for shame to come abroad.  
And albeit I would willingly have feigned myself sick, I could not do it; for my Lord was so careful of his servant's health, and that they should have all things necessary and fitting for them, that he would presently have sent for Physicians to see what I ailed. Besides, I saw it was a needless remedy, to use any such dissimulation; for by this time it had passed from mouth to mouth, how, and in what case I was, and what was the cause of my grief.  
Now though that I had been wanting so many days from the service of his Table, yet would he still ask and inquire what was become of me, and where I was that I did not wait? He could not endure Tale-carriers, nor such as would complain of their fellows, and make things worse than perhaps they were, by mis-reporting of them; he did hate it to the death, to have his house, like your Lawyer's Courts, full of clamours, and untruths; and therefore that they might not grieve or disquiet him, they would mildly tell him: He is here (Sir) about the house, I saw him but now, or some such like excusive answer. But this would not serve the turn. For now he began shrewdly to suspect, lest some misfortune had befallen me. And therefore pressing them hard to acquaint him where I was, and how I spent my time, they were forced (for the giving of his Lordship satisfaction) to deliver unto him the truth of the business.  
This evil inclination of mine did much afflict his Lordship, when he saw how dissolutely, without either fear or shame, I proceeded on in my lewd courses. Whereupon, to put his former project in practice, he gave order that I should have some new clothes made me, and that then they should presently dismiss me, and rid me out of both his house and service, accordingly as he had formerly ordered the business.  
So his Steward clothed me, and then turned me out of doors. Which I took in that foul scorn (holding it as a due debt, that my Master was still 
Guzman hath new clothes given him, and is turned out of doors.  bound to keep and maintain me, and to bear with all faults) that in a kind of ●…ullen and dogged fashion, (showing more stomach, than wit) I left the house, with a full resolution never, (come what would come) to return thither again, of all other places in the world; notwithstanding that I had received many messages from the Cardinal, at sundry times, and by several messengers, with many goodly offers, and fair promises, delivering unto me the end why all this was done, and that there was no other drift in it in the world, save only what should make for mine own good; thinking by this means, when I had champt a little upon the bit, and tasted what hardness was, and known the loss of so good a Master, I would have reformed my manners, reclaimed myself from my lewd courses, and proved afterwards a better servant, than ever I had been before. They also signified unto me, how much his Lordship loved me, and what he had spoken of me in my absence. But all would not do; they could never get me back again. For I was stiff and obstinate, and too foolishly self-willed; thinking that I should revenge myself in so doing; and so as I might spite them, I did not care 
Proud ignorance, and self-will, much hurteth young men.  how I sped myself. I brewed ill, and baked worse; I began in pride, and ended in folly. And what could follow thereupon but my misery and ruin, seeing that I was unthankful for those favours and benefits, which God had been pleased to bestow upon me by the hands of that good and holy man my Master, who had justly given me my doom, and pronounced this sentence of expulsion against me. For he that cannot be won with good works, nor moved with fair and gentle words, it is pity but he should smart for it, and that rigour and chastisement should work that upon him, which rewards and fair usage, were not able to effect. I had now quite lost those little wits that I had, making little or no account of all these things, as if I had wanted nothing. How did I scorn and contemn those many good things that were done for me, without any why or wherefore, being things beyond the reach of my capacity, unbefitting my service, and altogether unworthy of me by reason of my unthankfulness? How unwise was I in conserving that present good, and in seeking to increase the hope of farther favours, which undoubtedly I should have futurely received, if I had but endeavoured to deserve them? How forgetful was I of that kindness, wherewith I had been cured? How unmindful of the care, that was taken about me? How ungrateful to that charity which was used towards me? How careless of that diligence, wherewith I was taught? How stubbornly proud, against that mildness, wherewith I was admonished? How perverse, against those sweet words, wherewith I was persuaded? How deaf against those grave yet loving terms, wherewith I was reprehended? How surly against that patience, by which I was supported? How incorrigible against that favour, by which I was defended? How rebellious against those means, which were sought for my good? How uncapable of that good usage, wherewith I was treated? How neglectful in amending those faults, which for my sake were so kindly dissembled? If any of those two, that took me for their son, had been alive, nay, if they were both now abiding here upon earth, and might return to their former prosperity, they could not have done more for me, or with more love, or would have borne half so much with my so many, and prejudicial knavish pranks, which I did so daily, and so disorderly play, and with that liberty and freeness, as if I had not been in my Lords, or my Father's house, but in mine own. I was more bold in his presence, than I should have been amongst my equals, and he imitating God in the sweetness of his disposition, had the patience to bear with me.  
Certain I am, that he that begat me, would have abandoned and abhorred me, so weary would he have grown of my ill government. But my Lord was so good a man, that he was never weary of me, never angry, never offended with me, and would not have cast me off (had not I cast off myself) because he loved me.  
O the noble and Princely condition of this worthy Prelate, given him by inheritance from that true Father of love and goodness, that he could be so kindhearted, in doing still more and more good to such a one as I was! He looked still when I should return unto him, he tarried for me, a day, a week a month, a year, nay many years; in all which time, he was not wanting to exercise his works of mercy towards me, to the end, that he might leave me without excuse: And that touched at last with shame of mine own folly, I might pronounce that sentence against myself, which the heinousness of mine offences had deserved.  
But I for all this followed mine own humour, which was the rule by which I directed all my actions: To all that was said unto me, I put on Merchant's 
Orejas de mercader. i Deaf ears. A Proverb.  ears, was still deaf to all good counsel, appealing from good advice, to mine own flesh, which being ready still at hand in favour of my vices, I did utterly undo myself, by following of her ill counsel. For to execute her suggestions, I had force enough; to seek out occasions of sin, ability sufficient; to persever in them, an untyred constancy; and in not leaving them, a firmness not to be removed. I was as well acquainted with all manner of Vice, as I was a stranger to all kind of Virtue. And to lay the fault upon Nature, I have no reason for it in the world. For I had no less ability for good, than inclination to evil. The fault was mine own; for she never did any thing out of reason. She was always the Mistress of truth and modesty; she was never defective in what was fitting, but as she hath been corrupted since through sin; and mine were so many, that I produced the cause of this bad effect, and became mine own hangman.   

CHAPTER X.  
Guzman de Alfarache discourseth of ill Company; of Hospitality; of Patience; And how being put out of the Cardinal's house, he placed himself with the Ambassador of France, where he played some Knavish pranks. He relates a Story, which he heard from a Gentleman of Naples. And ending with that, he gives an end to the first part of his life.  
I Could not (as I told you before) justly complain; or find fault with any body but myself, that my Lord had thus dismissed me, and turned me out of service. For the very truth was, he made earnest suit (through the importunity of his servants, who were very instant with me) to have me to come back again unto him; but because my blood (whose heat was not yet allayed) still boiled in my breast, and was not come to its wont coolness, I did ill consider mine own good: or should rather have said, That I did well, ill, in not considering my ill, well.  
Being thus discarded, I wandered up and down at mine own pleasure, (as my fancy did lead me) thorough the streets of Rome. And because in my 
The conversation of the wicked destroyeth the soul.  prosperity, I had purchased some friends of mine own profession, they seeing me un-provided for, and that I went up and down like a Masterlessehound, here one would invite me, and there another, howbeit it cost me dear; for that meal that is made in ill company, though it give nourishment to the body, yet it filleth the soul with ill humours, to its utter overthrow and destruction. Nor did those good morsels so well satisfy hunger, as their ill counsel and lewd conversation did undo me; Whereof nothing now remaineth, but repentance. For I began then, (and never till then) to know in what danger I was, when I saw the water was come up to my chin, and ready to run into my mouth.  
Vices, come stealing in upon a man, they enter with silence, they are a smooth still File, that cuts without any noise; they are not heard, till they have wrought man's ruin. They are as easy to be received, as they are hard to be rejected.  
And such kind of friends as these, are those Bellowes, which kindle that flame, which sets the whole soul on fire, and with a little spark raiseth a great blaze. I might very well have recovered my allowance, and had meat of mine own to put in my mouth; for the Steward told me, that my Lord had given him order, that I should daily come and fetch it, or send for it, as I would myself. But I was so obstinate, that I would none of it. For I was so lewdly given, that I had rather endure hunger with ill company, then feed upon the best meat with honest and civil people. But they quickly paid me home, who first gave me counsel to refuse my board-wages, as I did, relying upon them and their advice; for they were soon weary of helping me any longer, and they did not only not relieve me, but because they would not do it, they did shun and avoid me. So that I might starve for any succour that I was to look for from them.  
This same thing, called Hospitality, and entertaining of friends and guests, 
Touching Hospitality.  carries a kind of mystery with it; I evermore found in his mouth that inviteth, honey, but in his hands gall; they promise liberally, but give sparingly; they bid with joy, but eat with sorrow. He that will be another man's guest, must be content to be ordered, as he will have him; besides, 
Guests, what manner of men they ought to be?  he must be rich and well to pass, otherwise he shall not be welcome; he must not tread many steps in the house, his breech must scarce warm his Chair, nor must he sit long at board, for fear of being too troublesome. Do not flatter thyself, that thou art liberally and freely welcome, because a man gives thee good words, and speaks kindly and lovingly unto thee, and tells thee thou art heartily welcome. For I have ever observed it as a true rule amongst other the Laws of Hospitality, that a man may diet with his kinsman 
The Laws of Hospitality.  a seven-night, with his elder brother a month, with his friend a year, and with a bad Father all his life time.  
The Father only is not weary perhaps of entertaining his son, but all the rest take dislike, if not a loathing of his company. If thou shalt stay with them beyond that time, they will hate thee to the death, and pick one quarrel or other against thee; and if that will not serve the turn to set thee packing; they will put crooked Pins in thy Bread, or lay baits to poison thee, that they may once be rid of thee.  
But admit, that thou art invited by a married man, and that his wife be close-fisted, a very Crib, her wealth her own, and she somewhat proud and scornful, say she be thy Mother, or thy Sister, in fine she is a woman, who for the most part are all of them greedy and covetous, so that they will whine for anger to see thee there, look scurvily upon thee, grudge thee thy meat; cha●…e with her husband for bringing thee thither, curse both him and thee, and wish you both choked. Better is a hard crust in thine own house, than a 
Better is a little at home, than a great deal of good cheer abroad.  crammed Capon in another man's. It is a miserable thing to set thy foot under another man's table.  
My friends growing now weary of me, I needed not out of shame to leave them; for they had already cast me off, straightening more and more their hand towards me, who were so far from giving me any thing, that now they could shamefully deny me without blushing. They needed no mask nor disguise for to dissemble the business. They could boldly bid me Go by. I was therefore driven to seek out some Wall, where-against to lean, and betake myself to some Tree for shelter, under whose shadow I might quietly take my feeding. For I was now in that extreme want, that like the Prodigal son, I would willingly have returned home, and been content with all my heart to be one of the meanest mercenary servants in my Lord's house. But such was my misfortune, that he was now dead and gone.  
Beaten with the rod of affliction, I began to be humbled, and was fully resolved to turn over a new leaf, and betake myself to a better course of life: but it was all too late, I came a day after the fair; And fit it is, that he that will not when he may, when he would, he should have nay.  
And it stands with very good reason, Que pierda por el mal qu●…rer, el bien poder. That through the badness of will, we should lose the goodness of power. There went the distance of some two months between my good and bad fortune. And if I had been a stayed, and well-governed Youth, as 
Want of patience, the cause of much evil.  I had a running head, and a giddy brain, the least good that could have befallen me, would have been (though the meanest of his servants) an honest provision during my life, and might have run the venture of some better fortune. But seeing it fell out as it did, yet must we thank God as well for the bad, as the good. I cannot say, that my malignant Star was the cause thereof, but that mine own evil inclination was the worker of my woe; For the stars non compellunt, sed inclinant, they incline, but not constrain. 
The Stars do not enforce a man to this or that.  They make men apt, but they do not coact. Some ignorant fools stick not to say; O Sir, Destiny is not to be avoided. That which shall be, shall be. And it is in vain to strive against it. I tell thee (my friend) it is a vain thing to say so; and thou dost not understand the truth thereof aright; for there is no necessity, that it is, or should be so; it is thou thyself, that mak'st it so to be.  
In these Moral and outward things, thou hast a kind of freewill conferred upon thee, whereby thou mayst (if thou wilt) govern both thyself, and thy actions. Thy star cannot constrain thee, nor all the heavens joined together with all the force and power that they have, cannot compel thee against thy will.  
It is thou that forcest thyself to leave what is good, and to apply thyself 
All evil that befalls a man, is for the most part occasioned by himself. Guzman serves the French Ambassador.  to that which is evil, following thy dishonest desires, whence these thy crosses and calamities come upon thee.  
I was now entered into the service of the French Ambassador, with whom my Lord (who is now in glory) held strict amity; who, in his life-time took likewise great pleasure in my witty jests, and merry conceits. He would fain have had me serve him before, but he was loath to entertain me, lest it might be taken unkindly to receive another man's servant, considering the good love and friendship that was between them.  
Well, I was now with him, and he used me well, but with a different end. For my Lord directed his actions to the profit and benefit of my person, but 
Master's entertain their servants for diverse ends.  he only for his own private ends, and the pleasure which he took in my jerks of wit, the merry tales that I would tell him, and the pleasing messages that I should bring him now and then, from those his Ladies and Mistresses to whom he made love. He did settle me in no set place, or office about him; I was his servant at large; and he as largely paid me. For either he would give me my payment himself, or else I myself would take it in his presence, with some pleasant jest or other; or to speak more plainly, I was his chief Minion and Favourite, though it pleased some to call me his Buffone & jester.  
When we had any guests (as we seldom or never wanted) we were very complemental with them, and waited punctually upon them, our eyes still 
Guests how to be attended on by those that wait at the table. Foolish and presumptuous persons not to be observed by those that attend.  attending on theirs: but if they were either impudent, foolish, or troublesome guests, which came thither unbidden, upon such as these we would put a thousand jests. Some we would make to sit all dinner time without drink, that you would have thought, that they had been so many Melones sown in a dry ground; to others we would give very little, and that in pinching glasses; some had their Wine over-watered, othersome over-warme without any snow. When they were ready to eat their meat, we would take away their Plates from them, and set some salt-meats before them, ill seasoned, with a little oil that was none of the best. We would daily invent new devices, to abuse their palates, that they might take dislike, and come there no more.  
It happened once upon a time, that an Englishman claiming kindred of the 
Men of good and bad behaviour, to be respected according as they are. A tale of an Englishman.  Ambassador, and it being a common custom with him, to come daily to our house, my Master grew weary of him; for (besides that he was not his kinsman) he was neither Noble in his blood, nor endued with good qualities, and aboveall, in his conversation full of impertinencies, that it was a kind of captivity, to keep conversation with him.  
There are a certain kind of men, that a man's heart will rise against them, and grow into a dislike of them, though he never saw them before. And again there are another sort of men, that will steal thereinto, and thrust themselves into our affection, and good liking, upon the first sight, winning our good will from us, and procuring our best wishes; this, either hatred, or love, not being in the hands of the one, or the power of the other. But this was a mere lump of Lead, a man of no metal in the world, a dull and heavy piece of flesh, in a word a mere blockhead.  
One night, when they were newly set at supper, he began to lay open his vanity, with telling a thousand lies one upon the neck of another, wherewith the Ambassador was much offended, and not being able to suffer such a one, to go on in his fooleries, he spoke to me in Spanish, (which the other understood not) and said unto me, Would I could be rid once of this fool; for I am as weary of him, as ever I can be. He did not speak this to a Dolt or an Ass: I had his meaning in the wind. Whereupon I took my friend to task; I followed him with salt-meats, that were smart and sharp, and left behind them a kind of tartness or tang upon the tongue; wherewith being bitten, he called for his coolers, which he took almost faster than I could fill them.  
The wine that he gulped down, was the gulf that swallowed him up. The glass was great, his draughts answerable, and those often, and this powder took so well, that at last he was powdered with a witness, and quite blown up▪  
When I saw he had yielded himself prisoner to his pots, and that he was above one and thirty, being many peeps out, I took off one of my Garters, and knit a sliding knot upon the instep of one of his feet, and fastened it unto the stool whereon he sat. And when the Table was taken away, and that he offered to rise to take his leave, and to go home to his lodging, he was no sooner risen from his seat, but that he fell all along on the floor, his mouth, his teeth, and his nose being shrewdly hurt, the blood gushing out amain. So that when he was come to himself the next day, and saw in what ill case he was, and how his face was battered with the fall, for very shame he would never more come near the house.  
This business was well carried, for it succeeded even as I would have it. But all darts do not hit right; nor all Angle-rods strike sure. There are some 
A tale of a Spaniard, who 〈◊〉 Guzman, and shows himself a 〈◊〉 knave, than he.  fishes that bite and carry away the bait with them, leaving the Angler deluded, and the Hook empty, as it happened unto me with a Spanish Soldier, that was longer than the mark.  
O the whoreson traitor; how crafty and subtle a Rogue he was! how full of his cunning shifts! Harken well I pray unto that which passed between us.  
This wily rascal came into the house about noon, when the Ambassador was ready to sit down to dinner, and coming unto him, he told his Lordship that he was a Soldier, and borne in Cordova, and a principal Gentleman of that place, though now he were in want, and therefore besought him, that he would favour him so far forth, as that he might taste of his bounty. The Ambassador took out a little purse, wherein were some Crowns, and without offering to open it, he gave him both the Purse and the Gold that was within it, because he seemed to be the same, he had expressed himself to be.  
But not contenting himself with this, he continued still with him, recounting what he was, and the services wherein he had been. And so running on from one thing to another, the Ambassador setting himself down to dinner, he makes me no more ado, but does the like. And pulling a stool to him, sets himself cheek by jowl with his Lordship.  
I was then gone to fetch in meat, when lo, by the way, I might perceive two other jerfalcons like the former, which were newly entered within the Court; and when they understood, that this other was at dinner with my 
Court jerfalcons what they be.  Lord, the one said to the other; As I am true Soldier, either the Devil, or Sin, hath clapped gyves upon our legs; for this cheating Rascal still gets the start of us, and wins all that he plays for by the elder hand.  
When I heard them thus mutter and maunder against him, I came unto them, and asked them; Whether they knew that Gentleman within, or no? One of them told me, I know that Taverne-haunter, whose father hath many a time and oft pulled on my Buskins in Cordova, where he keeps shop under the wall of the great Church.  
This is our unhappiness, that if some twenty Gentlemen of us go for Italy, there return a hundred such infamous fellows as this is, that will equal themselves with the best, and boast themselves to be descended of the ancient Goths: and when they come where they are not known, they think that with the gumming of their Mouchatoes, making them bear up as stiff as if they were starched, and with the wagging of three or four feathers in their Hat, they are grown into nobleness of blood, and purchased the name of Valour, being no better than notorious Cowards. For it is not Feathers, and starcht-beards that fight it out in the Field, but stout hearts, and men of stiff courage. Come, let us go, I will make this effeminate Rascal next time I meet with him, leave off coming in our quarter, and file himself in some other rank.  
With that they went their ways, whilst I went considering with myself, what kind of cattle these three were, that thus sought to grace and set forth themselves.  
But I was somewhat angry at those other two, taking them to be but Braggadoccios, and mere puffs, as well for the vaunts they made of themselves, as for the ill language they used, in defaming him, who sought to honour himself, without any cost or prejudice to others.  
I was likewise not a little moved against this new-come guest for his bold and insolent carriage, who might very well have contented himself with that which was given him, and so gone his ways, without being so impudent to sit down at table in that swaggering and uncivil fashion; I had a month's mind to be at him, I longed to break one jest or other upon him, and to put it so home, that he should not be able to avoid it; but thinking to go forth to fetch Wool, I was forced to come back with my fleece shorn, failing very much in this my intent and purpose. He entreated me to give him some drink. I made as if I did not understand him. He beckoned unto me with his hand. I drew nearer unto him. He made me a third sign. I turned mine eyes another way, looking very demurely, and carrying with me a sober and composed countenance, (though I had much a do to forbear laughing.) He looking well upon me, and perceiving that I either played the fool, or the knave with him, he would not speak, or because any more unto me, but turning himself towards the Ambassador, he thus said unto him:  
Sir, I beseech your Lordship, that you will not think it overboldness, or too much presumption in me, that I have offered (though unbidden) to sit down at your Lordship's Table in regard of those many excuses which I can render to your Lordship, which may (if I have offended therein, and broken the rule of good manners) plead somewhat in my favour.  
First, the quality of my Person, and the nobleness of my House, doth deserve any common or ordinary courtesy.  
Secondly, my being a Soldier, makes me worthy of any Prince's Table whatsoever, because I have purchased that honour by my Sword and profession.  
And lastly, I may add thereunto the necessity I now am in, which is common to all, and may befall any man, as well as myself.  
And I presume that your Lordship keeps this so free and honourable a Table for to relieve such as myself; and therefore conceive, that your Lordship holds it not necessary, that such Soldiers as myself, having any worth, or good parts in them, should expect to be invited to your board.  
And therefore I shall desire your Lordship to be pleased to command one of your servants to give me some drink; for being a Spaniard, I perceive they do not understand me, though I have often called for it.  
My Lord there upon commanded us to give him drink, so that I could not otherwise choose but do as I was bid; yet I would have sworn, he should not have thus gone away with the Bucklers.  
Well, I brought him drink, but in so poor and penurious a glass, and mixed so much water with his Wine, that I left him in a manner as dry as he was before. But because a little will serve a Spaniards turn, and that they are enured to suffer much hunger and thirst, with that little pittance, which was rather a drop, than a draught, he passed therewith as well as he could, till dinner was done.  
We that were Pages, having conspired altogether, not to look him any more in the face while he was eating, lest he should speak again unto us by signs, to give him more drink, and so bind us to bring it unto him. But he was an old beaten Soldier, and knew well how to use the weapon of his wit, and being too hard for us, did likewise beat us from this ward, which we thought had been too sure a one, to be put from. For when he had filled his belly, and well satisfied himself, and that the last course was served in, And your Lordship will give me leave (quoth he) I will now go drink. And so rising up from board, removing his stool from him, he went to the Court-Cupboord, and taking from thence the biggest Glass that was there, he poured forth as much Wine and Water as himself thought fit, and having quenched his thirst, putting off his hat, and making a leg to his Lordship, got him out of the room, and so went his way without speaking any one word or other. My Lord was ready to burst with laughing, to see how he had put me beside my trick, and after that he had wondered awhile at the resolution and boldness of this fellow, he said unto me; Guzmanillo, this Soldier savours somewhat of thee, and thy country, where all is carried away with Bravadoes, and an impudent kind of behaviour.  
Now, whilst we were talking at table of the liberty and free kind of carriage, which the Spaniards assume unto themselves, there was newly come into the house a Gentleman of Naples, who had no sooner saluted my Lord, but he told him, that he was purposely come unto his Lordship to acquaint him with one of the cruelest, and strangest accidents, that hath happened in these our times, which now very lately fell out in Rome.  
The Ambassador entreated him to relate it unto him; And that I might the better hear it, I did defer taking away, and brought him a Chair, wherein, when he was set, he thus began to speak.  
In this City, there dwelled a young Gentleman of the age of twenty or one 
A pitiful and lamentable A●…ident of two noble Lovers in Rome.  and twenty years, more noble in blood, then rich in wealth. He had a goodly presence; he was virtuous, able, active, and in his own person very valiant. This Gentleman fell in love with a Damsel, a young Gentlewoman here in Rome, about the age of seventeen; being wonderful both fair and honest; they were both equal in state and condition, but more in their good will and love to each other. For if the one did love, the other did burn. His name was Dorido, hers Clorinia. Her Parents bred her up so retiredly, 
Dorido and Clorinia, a 〈◊〉 of faithful Lovers.  that they did not suffer her to treat or converse with any, from whence any danger might arise unto her; neither did she so much as show herself at the Window, and did seldom look out, unless it were by chance. For such was the excess of her beauty, that it was able to be a loadstone, to draw all the youthful Nobility of Rome to desire her love. Her Parents, and one only brother that she had, were very jealous of her honour; insomuch that these two Lovers could not enjoy each other as they would.  
True it is, that Clorinia, as one that was truly in love, could by no means be hindered from showing herself to Dorido, as oft as he passed that way. For near adjoining to her own Window, there was another of a friend of hers; who (for that she was married) might with more liberty stand there, when she was disposed so to do. And for that she had acquainted her with her love, as often as Dorido past that way, she would give her some sign or token, thorough a little hole that they had made of purpose in a partition Wall that was between them, whereupon she would presently make haste to the Window to see him; And so received from her Lover that short, yet full content, which the covetousness and strictness of those times could afford.  
This continued thus a good while: for other comfort had they none, than what they took in this fugitive pleasure, seeing each other only in transitu, as he passed along the street; which (like a shadow) was as soon gone, as seen. But Dorido, impatient of this poor content, and desirous to improve these favours he received from her, sought means, how he might with more conveniency enjoy so sweet a sight, seeing he might not be permitted to proceed any further. Whereupon he began to enter into a strict league of amity with her brother, whose name was Valerio; into whose friendship he had wrought 
Valerio, brother to Clorinia.  himself, with that fastness and fervour, that Valerio could not live without Dorido. Which was an occasion that moved him many times to carry him home with him to his house, wishing him to be Master thereof, and to make as bold therewith (if he wanted any thing) as if it were his own, and to command it with the same freeness. So that by this means, he had both liberty and leisure to contemplate the divine beauty of his dearest Love..  
With these baits, their loves were led along, gaining still more ground, and gathering more strength unto them, manifesting more and more their loves, by their looks. But Clorinia being the weaker of the two, and peradventure more inflamed, opened her mind to a maid of hers called Scintila; who desirous to do her Mistress service, went to seek out Dorido; whom when she had met with, she said thus unto him. 
Scintila, Servant to Clorinia.   
Dorido, it is bootless to dissemble the business any longer, it is now no time to hide thyself from me, for it is not unknown unto me what good liking there is betwixt you and my Mistress, and what good love ye make each to other; And that you may see, that I do not go about to deceive you, my Mistress herself hath revealed so much unto me, entreating me, that I would be a means to lay open her heart unto you, and to signify unto you, how much she loves you; and for farther declaration thereof, hath by me sent you this green silk Ribbon, as a hopeful token, desiring you for her sake, that you will honour her so much, as to wear it about your arm. I assure myself you are persuaded, that it comes recommended unto you from her own hand, for that yourself have seen it many a time hang in the dressing of her hair. So that from henceforward, you may rest confident of my faithfulness towards you, so great is the desire that I have to do you service.  
When Dorido heard this, it struck amazement into him, neither did he seem to like well of it, for that he had never any great good conceit of this Wench, as being jealous of her discretion not holding her to be a fit instrument for a business of that great trust and consequence as this was; fearing lest their love's might, through her weakness, come to be discovered; But seeing there was no other remedy, and that it was Clorinias own Act, and none of his, he dissembled his dislike, and in the best manner that he could, made show unto her, in how much he did esteem this her love and service; and how ready he would be upon all occasions, to deserve this her free and voluntary offer.  
Some few days being past, and Dorido's desire increasing to speak face to face with his Mistress, and finding no means how to do it, Love, that can overcome all difficulties, and make those things facile that seem almost impossible, opened a way thereunto: showing the means unto him, whereby he might come to compass his desire. There was fastened to the Wall of that house where Clorinia dwelled (which butted on the open street) a piece of an old Wall, whereof the one half was fall'n down, and run into decay, being scarce so high, as to reach up to the Window belonging to the house, and a little beneath that, was a hole stopped up with a movable stone that might be taken out, and put in again at pleasure. This did serve Clorinia sometimes in stead of a Lattice, viewing thorough it, (without being seen) those that did pass to and fro in the street.  
This was well known to Dorido, for that he had often seen his Mistress peeping out at that hole. This opportunity seemed to be favourable to his desire; whereupon he broke with Scintila, and entreated her, that she would stand his friend; telling her: Since (Scintila) my good fortune hath been such, that I have found you well affected to our Loves, and willing to pleasure me all that you can, and to afford me your best furtherance therein; I will not refuse to put myself into your hands, assuring myself, that you will always and in all things have that care, which the love you bear to your Mistress, and the desire you have to do me any courtesy, doth oblige you unto. You know, that since the time that I surrendered up my soul to Clorinia, and put her into the possession of my heart, making her the true Lord and Owner both of it, and of my life, I have got no other thing thereby, save a correspondency of affection expressed only by looks, having as yet no other interpreters of our minds, but the eyes, and all for lack of better commodity, and more fit and convenient means. Which the more I am debarred 
Privatio generat appetitum.  of, the more it augmenteth my desire. For evermore privation engendereth appetite.  
Now, there is a thing come into my head, how by your good help, my desire may rest honestly satisfied. You cannot but know the hole, that is underneath the Window; this must be the place, and thou the instrument of my good fortune. Thou shalt speak unto Clorinia, (entreating her as from me) that she will be pleased to correspond with me in this my just request; and in case she should refuse, as not daring out of fear to venture so far, thou mayst then labour to persuade with her, and so guide and rule her will, to be brought to yield to this so easy a condition; and that this night, seeing that the darkness thereof is so much our friend, when all the people of the house shall be a bed and asleep, she will be pleased but to speak with me at that hole. As for any other thing, I neither entreat it, nor pretend it.  
This suit seemed to Scintila, very easy, and without any danger in the world; she puts him in good hope, promises him to solicit it, till she had effected it; she comply'de with her obligation, and pointed him the hour when he should come; giving him a certain sign, what he should do, when he came to the Window.  
Dorido, when night was come, disguising himself, went to the place appointed, where he stood waiting for a good occasion.  
When all those of the house were sure and safe enough, as sleep could make them, Scintila went to the Window and opened it, taking occasion to throw out a little water. Which being seen by Dorido, who had got upon the Wall, standing there to wait a good hour, and knowing that it was Scintila, he said softly unto her, Here I am. She willed him to stay awhile, and shutting the Window, in she goes.  
Doridos' heart in the mean while fell a leaping in his bosom, beating and thumping thereat as if it had sought to get out, being ready to burst with desire, inflamed with the fire of love, fearful of the various success of things, lest some cross accident might interpose itself betwixt him, and this his glory, whereunto he was now so near, studying with himself what words he were best to use unto her, and in what kind of phrase he should begin his Courtship. His thoughts ran through a thousand several things, and his eyes were never off from that hole, looking as fa●…e there-into, as that ill-placed stone would permit him.  
He might one while hear Clorinia talking with Scintila; another while with her father and mother; now perceive how she rose from the place where she sat, and by and by again past to and fro, one while to this, another to that side of the house, till that (her Parents being a-bed) I saw her approaching to the place appointed, whither she came so troubled, (such a conflict was there betwixt Love, and Shame; Modesty, and Affection) that she was about to go back. But enforced thereunto by Scintila, at last she came.  
Now, when they were come to this interview, and saw themselves thus happily met together, Dorido was so transported therewith, that although he had premeditated beforehand what he would say unto her, he was strucken quite dumb, and had not a word to say. And she no less trembling, not having any by in that coniuncture, which might give breath either to the one or the other, to bring them to pronounce but so much as one word either good, or bad; at last by little and little, when their frozen tongues had recovered a little warmth, they made a shift to exchange some few words on both sides, wherewith they saluted each other.  
Dorido entreated her hand and she willingly gave it him; he took it, and kissed it again and again blessing and stroking his face therewith never suffering it to depart from his mouth. After he had thus taken his pleasure of her fair hand, he stretched forth his to her, pleasing his touch with the delicate softness of her beautiful countenance, unable to enjoy any other pleasure, nor could that place and time afford him any farther content.  
In this sweet exchange of mutual love they entertained themselves a great while. And whilst their hands did speak, themselves were silent. For the talk of the one, did hinder the speech of the other. And because Scintila made haste to part them, for fear of being discovered, if they should dwell any longer upon these complemental kindnesses, Dorido with many indearing of his love, took leave of his Clorinia, entreating her, that the next night following, at the same hour, and the same place, he might enjoy the same Regalo, and sweet comfort again. She promised him he should. And so for that time, they tool eleave of each other, both of them remaining wonderful well contented. But much more he, who was ready to leap out of his skin for joy. And wishing that night and the next day would post away apace, he went home to his lodging.  
Where offering to sit down, he could not rest himself there; and seeking to case himself by rising up, he sought some place where-against to lean; and when there likewise he could not be at quiet, he rome up and down the room, walking to and fro on the unsteady legs of Dis-rest, and Desire; so that nothing could give him case and content.  
Thus did he suffer, and thus wear out that wearisome time, till the night following, and the time appointed, whose minutes he measured out by those glasses which distinguish the hours, giving himself over to this idle curiosity.  
The hour being come, he went to the place appointed, expecting when the sign should be given; he had placed himself▪ in the hollow nook of an old gate, which joined to the wall near unto the window; and being about to get up to the hole, he saw two Gallants pass by, which were in love with a couple of Gentlewomen in the same street who walked there up & down, giving many a turn to and fro, waiting when the street should be clear, that they might make benefit of the like occasion. They were Doridos' very good friends, and were not ignorant that he was enamoured of Clorinia. They were well acquainted the one with the other. But because Dorido was somewhat more reserved in the love that he made to Clorinia, he would not discover himself unto them, for fear of giving suspicion of that, which he was not yet Master of. And therefore whilst they continued walking there, he durst not mount the brickwall, lest haply they might chance to see him. For albeit that the night was very dark, yet the bulk of his body might, like a confused lamp or mass, be discerned by those that walked up and down in that still and prying fashion, though by those that walked along the streets at large, and minding no such matters, it was not so easy to be perceived. And therefore, because they should not know him, getting him thence, he removed himself a little farther off, looking still when they would be gone, or else entertain themselves in their own standings, that he might betake himself to his.  
But when he saw that they stayed there still, and that his hour was now come, he thought with himself, that if his Mistress should come, and not find him there, not knowing the cause thereof, she might tax him of too much carelessness; or accuse him of his lack of love.  
This drove him, (holpen on by choler) into that desperation, that he was fully resolved to set upon them, meaning to chase them away, if they did not make head against him; and if they did stand to it, and seek to defend themselves, then to kill them if he could. Which he might well have done, as well in regard of the greatness of his strength and courage, as also for that he was every way well provided for them. Besides, that his anger, which had now set him all on a raging fire, (being the whetstone, that sets an edge on Fortitude) would have added greater force to his Valour, especially when he should set upon them (which is no small advantage) unawares.  
But considering, not so much the peril of his own person, as the present estate of his businesses that he had now in hand, that they might not be overthrown by being ill managed, and by rash and inconsiderate courses, he paused on the matter, and grew a little cooler, biting his lips, wring his hands, casting his eyes up to heaven, and beating the ground with his feet like a madman.  
And when he perceived, that the time was past, he was now as sad and melancholy, as the night before, he was merry and jocund.  
The very next day after, these two Gentlemen went to look out Dorido, whom they had no sooner met withal, but they told him; You know, Sir, that we two are your friends, and that we truly love you; and being such, (as we unfeignedly profess ourselves to be) it is neither fit, nor just, that we should conceal any thing from each other, but be free and open-hearted to one another: And it is likewise meet, (if you be the same to us, as we be to you) that you do the like on your part, telling us the truth of that which we shall ask you, if it be no way unlawful, or prejudicial unto you so to do.  
Yesterday, some four hours after night was in, we two, walking through our street (for so we may term it) in regard that both our hearts have there their abode: seeking, I say, our adventure at that time of night, we might perceive a third man, which dogged us all the way, following us almost close at the heels, scarce losing sight of us all the while, so long as a man might say his Paternoster.  
We had a great desire to know who this should be, but we let him alone, because we would not cause any scandal. We could not so much as suspect, much less conceive, who this should be, till we were afterwards certified (by that which succeeded) that you were the man. And the assurance that we had thereof, was; that we having stayed awhile about your Mistress' window, we might hear it open, and perceive Scintila put forth her head, who seeing our outward Bulks, and not knowing who we were, spoke in a low voice, and said:  
Dorido, why do not you come up? When we heard her say so out of an impertinent curiosity (relying on your friendship) I answered; Which way? This word was no sooner uttered, but without replying farther unto me, she clapped to the window, and away she went. From whence we imagine you had made some set match, and because we would not hinder you of your purpose, we presently departed thence, and went to look after you, but could not find you. So that we could not till now acquaint you with what had past.  
But because we desire to serve you, and that (by conserving this good love and friendship between us) our particular pretensions may the better proceed, without any hindrance or impediment each to other, let us divide the night between us.  
We will take our time from midnight, till it be day, leaving the former part of the night free to you; and if you will exchange turns with us, liking, perhaps, better of ours, than your own, be it as you please, and take which of the two you have most mind to, for to us it is indifferent, being all one in the reckoning.  
Dorido would fain have dissembled the business with them; but finding himself by these pregnant proofs, and forcible reasons, too fast tied to get loose from them, he could not so shift them of. And therefore accepting their friendly offer, he made choice of the former part of the night, according to their own agreement.  
And with this plain proceeding, he prosecuted his Visit the third night, though without hope of obtaining it, doubting she would not do him that favour, in regard of that unlucky accident that fell out the night before.  
But for that Clorinia loved, (and that she truly loved) nothing could detain her from him, but with a great deal of care, was still enquiring, whether her Gallant meant to come again, to glad her heart with his cheerful and comfortable looks, being very inquisitive to know what should be the reason, that caused him so to fail the last night of his promise.  
Now, whilst her Father and Mother were at supper, rising from the table, she went to the foresaid hole, which she might safely do, for that the chimney, near whereunto they supped, stood on the one side of the Hall, (being a very large one) and the window where the hole was, on the other side, near adjoining to the corner; in the midst whereof, were certain things placed between, which did shadow and hinder the sight from the one side to the other. Her father and her mother sat so, that she might easily go thither, and speak softly, without being heard of any.  
The truth is, she watched an occasion (having well advised with herself what might happen) to make quick dispatch, and to rise from table as soon as possibly she could. Who came thither so opportunely, & in so good a time, that Dorido was there ready expecting her coming; for from out the street, he might hear the footing of certain steps in the Hall, which was a sure sign unto him, that those paces were trodden by his Mistress, so that he made all the haste he could to get up to see her. And because this was the second time of their meeting, they were a little better fleshed, than they were before, & met not with those stoppages, which heretofore had hindered their speech. So that they now discoursed more boldly, and more freely, as far forth as the time would give them leave, (which that night was but short, and in a manner stolen) and afterwards they took their leaves with a great deal of tenderness on either part, having agreed between themselves, that as long as the Moon was in her wane, they would enjoy the fullness of their loves, which increased now apace, till some better means should be found for their freer access.  
In this interim, a young Gentleman, a very great friend of Doridos, called Horatio, fell in love with Clorinia: He courted her, he served her, and observed her, as became a Lover, notwithstanding, that he knew, that she was his friend's Mistress. But he knew withal, that he did not treat with intent to take her to wife, but himself did.  
Relying therefore upon this their great friendship, the justness of his request, and the honesty of his cause, he entreated him of all loves, that he would desist from making love to Clorinia, and give way to him, seeing their ends were so different.  
Horatio's affectionate words, and lawful request, were of that power, and prevailed so much with Dorido, that he told him, that for his part he was well contented therewith, promising him, that if his Mistress should so like of it, and that she could find in her heart to fancy and affect him, he would give over his suit, leaving the field open unto him to take his pleasure, without any contradiction in the world; and that he should rest himself assured, that he would no way stand in competition with him. For the better effecting whereof, he would do two things: The one, to dis-deceive Clorinia, by delivering plainly unto her, that by reason of a certain Vow, that he had made to himself, it was not in his power to be married unto her, which he would not break for all the world. The other; the better to make her forget him, he would go about to make love elsewhere. Yet, for that great friendship, that was betwixt himself, and Valerio, he must hold him excused, if he did not forbear now and then to visit her, which might turn much to his good, but no hurt at all; being that his true intent and purpose was, to favour his pretention, upon all occasions that should offer themselves unto him.  
Herewith Horatio rested content, and was wonderful well satisfied, and gave Dorido many thanks; not considering, that having left it to Clorinias' choice, and putting himself upon her Election, till that he knew her mind, and had gained her good will, he had negotiated little, or nothing at all. And the offer made by Dorido, was upon the confidence that he had, that to speak thereof unto Clorinia, was no other, than the tearing of her heart from forth her breast. But Horatio carried away with vain confidencies, and various hopes, entreated Dorido, that he would speak a good word for him. He promised he would, that he might still maintain his friendship with Horatio, and not give any note or scandal to their love.  
To comply therefore with his promise, and to make good his own offer, when he met with his Mistress, he made a long discourse unto her of all that had passed between them; Telling her, that if she could find in her heart to love Horatio, and be brought to settle her affection upon him, God forbid that ever he should go about to hinder so honourable an intent. But in case she could not, yet at least was she bound in thankfulness to accept of this his good will, by not showing herself coy and strange unto him; and if he passed by the street where she was, she should not scornfully shut the Window against him, and fly from his sight, and should show him a cheerful look, though it were but feigned.  
To this Clorinia answered betwixt anger and scorn, telling him; that he should surcease, to lay any such command upon her, and that he should speak no more thereof unto her; for if for this cause, he should leave and forsake her, she would rather be content to be hated and abhorred by him, then to wrong either him, or herself, by placing her love elsewhere: Who as he had been the first, so he should be the last as long as she lived; which life of hers, she would presently sacrifice unto him, for to take away all occasion from him of commanding her to love another, or to forget him; as for the rest, he might do as he saw cause, she would not hinder him, let him take what course it pleased him, so as it liked him, she would not stand against it.  
Dorido took wonderful contentment in hearing this answer come from her; for these words of her, were that true Chrisole wherein the Gold of their loves was refined, and that touchstone that tried the pureness of their affections, and gave assurance that it was not counterfeit metal. So he treated of this matter no more, but followed his wont Visits both day and night, having first given an account to Horatio of what he had done. He would not believe it, yet waxed wondrous sad, when he heard it. But for all this, he did not leave off to serve her, but could never find her indisposition to do him the least grace or favour, but rather to use him with all sharpness and rigour.  
Whence it came to pass, that seeing himself disdained, and Dorido preferred before him; fury provoketh his patience, setting his heart on fire with an infernal rage; insomuch that his love was now turned into hatred. And whereas before he was always desirous to do her service, from that time forward he laid wait to do her a mischief, beating his brains, and bending all his wits and study to work her overthrow; or at least to put some foul disgrace upon her. So that this Horatio, having dogged Dorido diverse times, till he had learned the hour, the place, and the means how he got up upon the Wall, and the manner of his carriage and fashion when he came to speak with her, and she with him.  
One night amongst the rest, he did anticipate and prevent the coming of the true Lover, and feigning himself to be Dorido, he clambered up to the place, and made a little noise, by jogging the stone that was in the hole of the Wall, as he had observed him to have done the like diverse times heretofore. Now Clorinia taking notice of the sign, but not considering the great anticipation, and prevention of the time, came presently at this call, and taking out the stone, with many sweet and kind words, she received this feigned Lover, who remained silent all this while, which loving language of hers, did but the more encourage Horatio in his intended treason; and putting his hand into the hole, took hold on Clorinias' fair hand, and took it forth, feigning that he much desired to kiss the same. And holding her fast thereby with his left hand, and with his right, plucking out a sharp Knife, which for that purpose h●… bare about him, with little difficulty, but a great deal of impiety, he cut it off, and carried it away with him, leaving this poor afflicted Damsel lying in a swoon upon the floor, by striving to suppress her sorrow, which she ought to have vented with her voice, and with her cries and lamentations; but she did smother them, offering force as it were to this her womanly weakness; and did shut them up close in her heart, and so offending the vital spirits, she remained in a manner dead. And there questionless would she have breathed her last, if she had not had present help; for her Father and her Mother missing her, and not seeing her in the room where they were, they called unto her, and because she returned no answer, they marvelling much thereat, went forth to seek her: they found her weltering in her own blood upon the ground, hard by that hole, which was left open in the Wall, and trickled down with the blood that came from her, which streams of blood were as so many proofs and evidences of the cause of her death; for so they deemed her to be, because they could not find in her any sign of life.  
Her sorrowful Parents, seeing this cruel and doleful spectacle, and the trunk of her arm without a hand, being unable to bridle their grief, fell down in a swoon close by their unfortunate Daughter, no less breathless than she was. But coming presently to themselves again, they began with the greatest lamentations that were ever heard, to bewail this so great a misfortune that had befallen them, being able to move any other eye to pity, and to pour forth tears in abundance, to see so young and handsome a Gentlewoman so butcherly and so inhumanely abused. But in the midst of this their excessive sorrow, they began to consider with themselves, that if the life of their Daughter should be lost, with it they should likewise lose their honour, which in their discretion, they held not fit to hazard together with her. They resolved therefore with themselves to keep this deed secret, and so leaving off their lamenting, drying their eyes, and smothering their sighs, they likewise quieted those of the house, and bearing Clorinia from thence, after many remedies, which they applied to her, they had somewhat brought her to herself: Who, when she saw herself in the midst of her mournful Parents, and in that pitiful manner, her sorrow redoubled upon her, which receiving increase from her shame, she swooned anew. Wherewith her Parent's grief was afresh renewed in that terrible manner, as if their hearts had been rend from their bodies by the roots. And with the tenderest and kindest words they could use, they did seek all they could to comfort her; speaking unto her in the sweet and loving language of such a Father and Mother, that so dear loved a Daughter, endeavouring by those soft and gentle phrases, to cure the wound of her mind, which was more than that of her body. With this, poor wretched Clorinia began to gather breath, and bewailing her misfortune (which till then she was not able to do) she did move the very stones to compassion, and to take pity of this her woeful and miserable condition.  
Then they presently began with great secrecy to treat of her Cure. Valerio her brother went forthwith to fetch a Surgeon, a friend of his, of whose secrecy he was confidently assured. The night was exceeding dark, and therefore he took a Lantern along with him; and as he was crossing the street, it was his hap to descry Dorido a far off, who in a careless kind of fashion was coming along the street, with purpose to go see his Mistress, being ignorant of what had passed. He began to call unto him with a sad and mournful voice, and when he drew near unto him, with a heavy cheer he said; O my true friend! Whither art thou going? Goest thou peradventure to condole with us our great disaster, and that Tragic sorrow, which must shorten our life? Hast thou either seen, or heard of the like mishap unto ours, and of the unfortunate accident that hath befallen our dearest sister Clorinia? Woe is me; yet to thee, that art our true friend, I cannot conceal that, which we must hide from all the world besides. For I know assuredly, that thou wilt bear a part in our sorrow, and be a Companion of these our miseries; nay I know thou wilt, as one of us, use all diligence in revenging this wrong, and labour all thou canst to find out him, that hath been the cruel murderer of my sister. Wilt thou Dorido? I am sure thou wilt.  
Dorido, whilst he was hearing this sad story, stood amazed like a man, that had been bereft of his senses: And it was a wonder, that he was able to stand upon his legs, being so word-strooken to the heart as he was, but recollecting himself by degrees, which was holpen on by the desire which he had to understand how the world went, striving to fortify himself against this fierce assault, which had already shaken the very Walls of his hearr, with a troubled voice he began to inquire what the matter was.  
Valerio, from point to point delivered unto him all the particulars, and told him that he was now going to call a Surgeon; entreating him, that he would go along with him, fearing lest the life of Clorinia, through too much delay, might run some hazard. Dorido accompanied him; and albeit he had more need of comfort himself, then to give comfort unto others, yet notwithstanding, framing himself thereunto as well as he could, at length he broke thus with him; Friend Valerio, this doleful misfortune of yours, and the lamentable case of your unfortunate sister Clorinia, doth so nearly touch me, and works that true sense of sorrow in me, that no less than to yourself, they may give me the Pésame: and come and condole with me this disastrous mischance, for I am so truly sensible thereof, that I dare a●…ow, you have no advantage of me, nor can your sorrow exceed mine.  
But seeing our grief can do us but little good, and that it is to no end to weep, and take on for that, which cannot now be holpen; My advice is, that you would consult what is to be done in this case; and if I may persuade, I would have all diligence used for the finding out of that Traitor which hath done this villainous Act, to the end that vengeance and full revenge may be taken of him, which was never yet executed upon any other. This task you shall put upon me, I will take this charge to myself, and doubt not, but by one means or other I shall come to find it out. Go you, and call the Surgeon: For it is not fit, where so many things are to be done, we should be all busied about one and the same thing, especially, that which belongs to my charge, being a business, which will require much labour. Let every man take his Cue, and perfect his own part. Follow you yours, and I will follow mine; and so farewell; for I have not the patience to defer it any longer. And so they parted.  
Now Dorido had a strong belief, and did confidently assure himself, that Horatio, and none but Horatio, could be the author of so great wickedness and falsehood, induced thereunto by those many reasons, which did concur to confirm this persuasion, the least whereof was a manifest token, and apparent evidence, that it was only his Act, and none but his. Whereupon he resolved with himself, to inflict such a punishment upon him, as should be equal to that his just disdain, and answerable to the heinousness of his offence.  
With this determination he went home to his own house; and being entered into his lodging, shutting the door to him, he let lose the reins to his tears, grievously lamenting this sad mischance that had thus unhappily befallen his Mistress.  
O Clorinia (said he) the delight of my eyes, and the joy of my heart, I see what harm thou hast suffered for my sake; I (unfortunate I) was the cause thereof. It was that Traitor Horatio, that thus deceived thee, whom thou supposedst to have been beloved Dorido.  
O unhappy Mistress of my life, I have brought thee to this miserable pass, it is I that have killed thee, and no body else; for it was I that did disturb thee of thy rest; it was I, that drew thee out from thy retired and reserved course of life. O accursed chink! O accursed eyes, that ever ye peep't thereinto! O accursed tongue, that madest the motion, that we should there meet, and talk together. O my dear Clorinia, Clorinia, my life; yet not my life, but my death: since that mine must follow thine: I was the cause of all this ill. Yet will I spare myself so much life, as to live to revenge this notorious wrong; and live thou too, Clorinia, till thou see the vengeance that shall be done upon this Traitor, which shall be as exemplary, as just: that it may remain as a memorial to all succeeding Ages.  
And I here solemnly vow to sacrifice to thy sacred and innocent ashes, the impious blood of this vile Traitor Horatio. For that one hand, which he hath taken from thee, I will give thee two of his. He cut off one, that was innocent and harmless, and I will cut off two, that were wicked and sacrilegious. Let Heaven lengthen thy life so long, till I effect this my purpose, and suffer thee to enjoy that recompense, which I do owe unto thy love.  
And thou (sweet Clorinia) pardon so much of the fault, as was in me. And if my death will do you any pleasure, or that it stand with your liking, mine own hands ere this, should have made way thereunto, and laid it down at your feet.  
With these and other pitiful complaints, did he bewail this heavy accident, worthy of eternal tears; and surely sorrow would there and then have made an end of him, so extremely had it seized upon him, and with that violence of passion, if his afflicted soul had not been under-propt with the desire of revenge; and thus between death and life did he spend that night.  
The next day following he went to visit Clorinia; whither when he was come, her Parents, and her Brother began afresh to renew their tears, embracing and weeping one over another, till at last the father of Clorinia began, as well as his grief would give him leave, to say; O son Dorido, what misfortune can be so great, so miserable as ours? What rigour of the heavens hath conspired against us? What infernal fury ever invented the like mischief? What thinkest thou of this sad chance? What deemest thou of our honour? What cloak will cover so foul a spot? And what revenge may mitigate so great a wrong as this? and give satisfaction answerable to these our sorrows? Tell us (I pray) what comfort can we look for? Or how can we live without her, who hath given us life? Dorido, not being able to abstain from tears, comforting her afflicted Parents, and Brother, told them: We are not now to spend the time in tears and lamentations, but in that which may import us most.  
And albeit, that which I am willing to propose, ought rather to proceed from any body else, than myself, yet the occasion, and the secrecy wherewith it is fit it should be carried, obligeth me thereunto:  
You all know very well, and have seen to your griefs, the general misfortune that hath befallen us all; being as well yours, as mine; and rather mine, then yours, for that your sorrow is joined unto mine; which addition makes but the heap of mine own the bigger. Besides, I see the thread of my life cut off before my face, that now I expect a death as bitter, as I thought it would have been pleasant unto me, if it had made an end of me, before Clorinia. Ye are not ignorant what I am; and I likewise know your great worth and quality; which if it shall not oversway mine, it is the singular love and friendship ye have borne me, that must equal the scales, laying an everlasting obligation upon me to deserve the same. This case than I make to be mine own; I challenge it as a thing proper unto me.  
And that the world may so understand it, and so take it, that which hereafter I shall entreat you for by a third person, I will now demand of you by way of grace and request: Which is; That you will be pleased to give me Clorinia to wife. Wherein ye shall do these two things: First, ye shall thereby recover your honour. Secondly, ye shall execute your revenge by this hand of mine. If heaven shall be so propitious and favourable unto me to bless me with her life, she shall live and remain with me, though not according as her worth deserveth, yet answerable to that desire which I have to serve her; making that up in my love, which is wanting in my means. And if ought succeed hereafter in the righting of this wrong, it is fit the world should take notice, that her husband did that whereunto he was obliged; and not Dorido, her parent's friend. Make good therefore this my request, for the good which from thence may redound to us all.  
To the Parents, as also to the Brother, this did seem to be a very just and honest motion, and gave him many thanks for this true testimony of his love, both to them, and their house. But because there was one as yet unasked, which was to be a principal party in this business, which was Clorinia, they would see if they could draw her to consent there-unto. Which when it was broken unto her, the tears gushed out of her eyes for very joy, and she said unto them:  
This is that alone, which I hope, will keep life in me: and if I should buy it at as dear a rate, as death, yet I should think it cheap enough, and that I had a good pennyworth of my bargain. I trust in God that I shall live contentedly, and dye comfortably. And therefore, I beseech you, that I may be espoused to Dorido, according as he hath desired. Presently here-upon they called him in, and (when they came to see each other) for a good while, they were neither of them able to speak a word, both their hearts were so full, and their souls so overwhelmed; hers with joy, and his with grief.  
That fit overpassed, they plighted their troths, and were made man and wife, using those diligencies therein with the best secrecy they could, till the time should come, that they might be openly espoused in the Church.  
Three days were spent in this Solemnity, and with this content Clorinia seemed to be upon the mending hand. But it was but a lightning before death: for through the store of blood which she lost, she lived not long after. Dorido perceiving, that it was impossible that his Spouse should escape with life, to the end that she might die fully contented and satisfied, (if there may be any such thing in death:) on the fourth day, holding it now a fit and convenient time, to put that in execution which he had devised and plotted with himself, on the fifth he invited Horatio to his house, as he had done at other times heretofore. Who trusting in the secrecy wherewith he had committed this foul offence, and that there was no talk thereof in the Town, nor so much as a word spoken of it, went thither as securely and as boldly, as if he had done no such matter, and without any suspicion or jealousy at all.  
Dorido, to lull him the more asleep, and to make him more secure, feigned, not to know of any such thing, he entertained him with a cheerful look, laughed, and was merry with him, that growing thereby the more confident, he might the willinger accept of his invitation. Dorido had put such a kind of Confection into one of his Bottles of Wine, that it should cast him that drunk thereof, into a most deep and profound sleep. Which he secretly commanded he should be served withal at the table, as oft as he called for any Wine. And as he had commanded, so was it ordered. And when he had even now dined, the last morsel being scarce out of his mouth, he sat me in his Chair like one that had been dead.  
Dorido, when he saw he was sure enough now in his hands, and that the Fowl could not escape the snare, binding his legs and arms as hard as he could for his life, to the legs and arms of the Chair, and having made fast all the doors of his house, he put to his nose a kind of little round ball (like a Pomander) made for that purpose, which he had no sooner smelled unto, and taken the sent thereof up into his head, but that he presently awaked from that deep sleep, wherein he had before been buried. And finding himself bound in that fast manner, without being able to wag, he knew then that his punishment was at hand, for that hand which he had so cruelly cut off. Dorido was as quick in cutting off both his hands, as he was nimble in un-jointing that of hers. That done, throwing a cord about his neck, making use of one of the corners of the Chair, he gave him the Garrote, wherewith he was strangled to death. The next morning, before it was peep of day, he drove him along before him in the Chair upon a Horse, till he came to the house, where Clorinia dwelled, and putting a piece of Timber Gibbetwise, into that hole in the Wall, where he had committed this odious and unmanly act, he left him there hanging with his hands tied about his neck in a string, (like a child's pair of Mi●…ens.) and some Verses hanging at his Hempen chain, to give satisfaction to the world, upon what reason this was done. And so Dorido, when he had thus revenged himself upon Horatio, left Rome, with purpose never to see it again; thinking with himself, that without his Clorinia, neither Country, nor life, nor any thing else could be comfortable unto him. And about the break of day, when this spectacle began to be seen, and talked of, Clorinia within a little after finished her life.  
This lamentable Accident caused great both sorrow and admiration in the Ambassador. But his hour was come, that he must to the Palace, which made them break off for that present, and to take their leaves. I thank God a thousand times, that he made me not a Lover: And if I had not been a Gamester, peradventure I should have done worse, as you shall see in the second part of my life, whereunto (if my first have pleased thee) I invite thee.  
The Verses, which were hung about Horatio's neck, turned into our vulgar tongue, sound thus:  

I was rash He; blinded with jealous love,  
Seeing my friend, preferred in my Love's choice,  
(Counterfeiting his Signal, clothes and voice)  
Whom deep Disdain did to foul Hatred move,   

To Heaven and Men, I cruel Traitor grew;  
Fair Clorinia (with innocence bedecked)  
I wronged, (urged by my Love, and her Neglect.)  
Whose Story, may all eyes with tears bedew.   

Her Hand and Life (that I on her might wreck  
Revenge) I did cut off: Cause of her end,  
Her Hate to me, and Love unto my friend,  
He hung these hands of mine about my neck.   

Was Party, Witness, and judge: Whose sentence  
Was too small a punishment for my Offence.   
FINIS.    

THE ROGVE: OR THE SECOND PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE.  
WRITTEN IN SPANISH by MATHEO ALEMAN, Servant to his Catholic Majesty, and borne in seville.  
LONDON, Printed by G. E. for EDWARD BLOUNT. 1623.   

TO THE CURIOUS READER.  
ALbeit I was still afraid to expose this my Second Part to the light, after it had been some years finished and perused, (though more had been too few, for the presuming to publish it) and that it were better for me to uphold the good opinion gotten by my first, (which with open arms was generally so kindly embraced by all) then to hazard their good wills by this second; I was in doubt with myself, whether I were best to put my reputation upon so ticklish a pi●… either because it should not perhaps be so well accepted; or that I might chance to fall short of my desire, missing the mark whereat I aimed: For commonly where the greatest care is taken, those that are unfortunate, are wont to fail most. Yet notwithstanding, it being with me, as with that bad servant, who with blows and kicks, is awaked out of his deep sleep; being roused up by so violent a stroke; that happened to myself, which is wont to befall lazy and slothful persons; to do one thing twice over. For having been too prodigal in communicating my papers, and the conceptions of my brain, they caught me when I was upon my wings. So that seeing myself (if I may lawfully use that phrase) rob, and defrauded, I was enforced to fall afresh to my labour, seeking out some new supply of moneys, wherewithal to pay my debts, and to disengage my word, which I had formerly passed. So that by this means I was driven to differ, as much as possibly I could, from that which I had written before. Surely it was Esau's own oversight, some peculiar slip or fault of his, that being tired out in the chase, and killing of his game, gave occasion to jacob to steal away his blessing from him.  
Truly, I must ingeniously acknowledge in this my Competitor, Concurrent, or Corrival (who ere he be) his great learning, his nimble wit, his deep judgement, his pleasant conceits, and his general knowledge in all humane and divine letters, and that his discourses throughout, are of that quality and condition, that I do much envy them, and should be proud that they were mine. But by the way, let him give me leave to tell him (which is no more than what others say) that if upon any other occasion saving this, he would have been pleased to make use of these his good parts, so honourable would his pains have therein appeared, that the gravest person that is, need not to have been ashamed to discover both his name, and his face; but to deal after this manner, was to foist into Castille, the coin of Arragon. But herein, that succeeded unto him, which usually (we see) befalleth many women, whose parts and members, considered severally by themselves and apart, are of that rare and singular perfec●…n, that desire cannot wish it more, nor the pencil exp●…e it better. But afterwards, when all these distinct parts shall be conjoined, made one whole piece, and examined together, they fall short in the making up of a fair and well-favoured face. But he proceeded therein discreetly; taking that course, which they use to do, who go (presuming on the activeness of their person) with their Lance in their wrist, masked and disguised, to encounter their adversary. But because these are things of adventure, and depend much upon fortune, if they hit right, they make themselves known, but if they miss, they go away ashamed, and you shall never see the face of them. Well, whatsoever hath been done in this kind, or howsoever carried by him, he hath enforced me to defend myself. For that he argueth; That the great pains that he had taken, and so worthy of excuse, in following the track of my steps, and the imitation of my works, grew first from this, that he esteemed them to be good. I pay him again in the same money, by following of him. Only we differ in this; That he hath made a second part out of my first; and I only imitated his second. And shall do the like in the third, if being elder hand, he shall vie upon me. Whereunto if I be put, I shall not refuse to see it. Assuring myself, that I shall not be shut out, but have a place amongst the rest. For the field being so large, through the pleasantness of the subject, whereunto the sharpness of the appetite will likewise give some help, more parts will daily come out of this book, than Coneys out of their Berries, and more glosses made thereupon, then on the fair Angelica in the days of Castilejo. But I advice in this case, that they would not be too nimble fingered in taking pen in hand, till they have wearied their eyes with perusing, and enlarged their understanding, that it may be made capable to receive whatsoever shall be brought unto it. Nor would I have them to write, till they be well read, if they will attain to hit the white, and not shoot beside the butt. For our Guzman having purposed to play the good Student in the Latin and Greek tongues, and in the study of Rhetoric, and having gone forward in his studies with a full purpose to profess Religion; to take him now out of Alcala, thus on the sudden, so quite alienated from his former inclination, and so bad a Proficient, were cortar el hilo alatela, to cut the thread before the web were woven; contrary to that which is pretended in this History of his Life; which was only to serve as a sentinel, to discover all sorts of Vices, & to draw treacle out of diverse poisons: That is to say; To describe unto you a man, perfect in his parts and person, punished with troubles, and afflicted with miseries, and falling afterwards into (of all other) the basest roguery, is put into the Galleys, where his wings were clipped, that he could not get thence in haste. Let us slip it over, That he could not be called a most famous thief, for the stealing of three cloaks, howbeit two of them were very fair ones, and of much value, but the other a poor one: Let us likewise omit, That it is improper to fabulous Histories, to introduce public and known persons, naming them by their proper names: And let us come to that obligation, which he had to return to Genoa to revenge the wrong wherewith he threatened his kindred in the last chapter of the first Part: And many other things, which without giving satisfaction, he passeth over in diverse different fashions, altering, & reiterating not only the accident itself, but even the very words used therein. So that undoubtedly I am of opinion, that it is a thing of more difficulty, than every man is aware of, to undertake the pursuit of another man's discourse. For it leadeth its undertaker along even from his purposed, and first intended course, to those things, whose chase he cannot choose but follow. Nay should he come to confer mouth to mouth, with the party himself, it is impossible but he should go out of the way: For there are many conceits, that are thrust into by-corners, and there hid; wherewith even it's own proper Author is much troubled, upon a sudden and present occasion, with calling them to mind, time having worn them almost out; whereby men may fall into mistakes; quoting K. Don Fernando of Zamora, in stead of the Infanta Dona Vrraca, his daughter. This doth not argue want in the understanding, nor is it a defect, that another should jump upon my conceit, & think my thoughts. But I say it is rashness in him, that will offer to run with that man, who must needs outstrip him, through the others slowness of footmanship, or that he runs not right upon the mark. If here the phrase be not so significant, the stile not so lofty, the language not so sweet, the proverbs not so pithy, the stories not so pleasant, nor so cleanly carried as I could wish; My excuse must be; Many oversights cannot be avoided in the writing but of a little; which will ask a larger time to correct and amend them. But having finished my third Part, and following Horace his counsel therein, that I may be the better able to offer it to your view (which shall be shortly) I could not excuse this passage, as being very necessary for those ends which I pretend. Accept of my good will, which is to serve thee. For the times are not still alike; nor the stars always favourable; nor Calliope continually set upon the merry pin.   

ANCIANT LVYS DE VALDES HIS ELOGIUM To Mateo Aleman.  
AS if Arms, and Learning were not Sisters, some prattling Sophister seemeth (me thinks) to tell me, That I should do well to follow my military profession, and let Eulogiums alone, leaving them to Scholars; it seeming unto him, that these two, are of too different a nature, to consort together. But I shall be able to point forth unto him, not one, but many Caesars, as dextrous in Letters, as disciplined in Arms. And that I may take away all occasion from such Cavillers, of alleging against me, That I am too forward in usurping the office of an Orator, taxing me of too much boldness and inconsiderate rashness, I will march as far off as I can, from their dangerous style of flattery and ostentation, safely retiring myself into mine own Trenches, and there to defend and maintain the truth, a thing as proper to a Soldier, as is his Sword and Target, or his Pike and Corslet.  
I will be but the Echo, not the Chronicler, of what I have seen, heard, treated, and known abroad in the world; for I have been in my time in many, and different Nations, and Countries. I will go on, and comply with my desire, not fearing the face of Calumniation, because I know myself to be disinteressed, and a freeman. For love, interest, and fear, are those three ropes, that halter justice.  
And for that it is so just a thing, to reward men's labours, encouraging the virtuous with a shout, as they do in war, giving it them as a thankful pay, which being truly deserved, is a true treasure. I have therefore been willing, seeing so many so drowsy in the business, to take up the pen for them, though least of all obliged thereunto in the common opinion of the world, by reason of my profession. But no man shall outstrip me herein. We are all beholding to Mateo Aleman, we are all indebted unto him, and of all he doth justly deserve condign commendation. For we must acknowledge him to be the first, that till this very day, hath in such a kind of style as his, come to discover and excommunicate Vice: (with such a sweetness and softness) which being to them a venomous Asp, robs them of their lives, when they are in their sweetest sleep.  
Many Physicians minister to their sick Patients, pills of Aloes for to purge the head, but few or none of them have taken pleasure in chewing of them, nor so much as to touch them with their tongue, neither have they been able so to sweeten them, that moving a desire to eat them, they should procure a general appetite. Only Mateo Aleman, hath taught us the way to taste things with delight, instructing us by other men's actions how to govern ours: with no small hurt to his health and estate, having much wasted both the one and the other by his painful studies. And we may very well say of him, That never Soldier had a poorer purse, and a richer mind, nor a life more unquiet, and full of trouble, than was his; and only, because he accounted it a greater honour unto him, to be held a poor Philosopher than a rich flatterer. He left (as it is well known to the world) voluntarily, and of his own accord, the King's palace, where he served almost twenty years, being the best, and as it were the very cream of his age, in the Office of Contador de resultas, to King Philip the 2. and in many other weighty businesses, besides visitations and surveys, which were committed unto him, in all which he behaved himself so well, that he evermore gave wonderful good satisfaction, proceeding so uprightly, that he grew to be so poor, that not being able any longer, by reason of his wants and necessities, to continue these his services, he retired himself from that course of life, to one of lesser both ostentation and attendance. And though he wanted the goods of fortune, yet was he rich in the endowments of the soul, which are of much more estimation and price, then worldly pelf, whereof no man could more truly boast himself.  
Let the tongues of men be listened unto, and ye shall hear nothing so common as the publishing of his praise: no less in Spain (where it is no small wonder to have a Prophet liked in his own Country) then in Italy, France, Flanders, and Germany, which mine own ears and eyes can truly testify and avow. And I might (if need were) boldly swear, That I never heard his name mentioned, but with the addition of some honourable Epithet, even to the giving of him this noble Attribute, El Espanol divino, The divine Spaniard.  
Who, like him, in less than three years, and in his own life time, saw his own works translated into so many sundry languages, that like your Cartillas' in Castille, his books ran posting for Italy and France? What Author ever writ, who at the very time when he was willing to bring forth his Labours to the light, they have scarce come forth of the womb of the Press, but that they were strangled in the midwives' hands, and left for dead. And those his works, that came forth into the world alive, and did breathe, and enjoy their life, as these of this our Author, they flew abroad with such swift and nimble wings, holpen by those of Fame, that with extraordinary speed they passed through all parts of Christendom, in somuch that there was not any one Province, whereinto they have not flown, and received, wherever they came, most honourable entertainment?  
What works can ye instance in, that in so short a time, have had so many Impressions? The whole number of those books that have been printed amounting to more than fifty thousand volumes. There have been (of my knowledge) six and twenty several Impressions, whereof he was robbed, whereby others became rich and the Owner of them, poor. Against whom but him, did ye ever find the gates of Murmuration shut? Who, but he, had so perfectly learnt the way to beat Malice out of the field, and to put her to flight? If this be so; or if (as by evidext Mathematical demonstrations) it shall require a necessary proof of witnesses, let the best of the world be brought forth, I mean the famous University of Salamanca, where being celebrated there, by the best wits of that Academy, I have heard many speak of him, as the Grecians of their Demosthenes, and the Romans of their Cicero; reputing Mateo Aleman as the Prince of eloquence in the Spanish tongue, as well for the modesty, & dextrousnes of his style, as for his elegancies, and choice phrases. Of which opinion, was areligious Augustine, as discreet, as learned; who maintained in that University, in a public Act, that there was not from the beginning of the world, to this present day, that the first Part of this was printed, any book of like nature to this, (being no divine subject) of greater either profit or pleasure.  
Valençiano testifieth this truth; who (denying his name) falsely styles himself Mateo Lujan, that he might be taken for Mateo Aleman. And albeit he might parallel him in his name, and Country, yet that he should be the same man in his works, it was not possible. Only therein his malice may be discovered, and that he did that he did, moved thereunto out of the benefit that he should reap thereby: which if it had fallen out (as he expected) had been no small matter; But it fell out, (as fit it was) contrary to his expectation. For in that very selfsame year that it came forth, I bought one in Flanders, which in the Frontispiece, had its Impression in Castille, taking it to be authentical and good, till I had read a little of it, and then it was not long, that his ears 
a Mostrar 'las orejas fuera del pellejo, is metaphorically an Ass.  shot out of his skin, and so came to be known what he was.  
But to let this pass, and to speak of those that admiring such a deal of depth and profoundness both of wit and learning, being wonderful willing to have some learned and grave Fathers to adopt this child of his begetting, they all laboured to seek out some one, who for his quickness of wit, greatness of Scholarship, and singularity of eloquence, might be able to undertake so rare and admirable a piece of work; all which doth argue the worth thereof, and redound to the greater glory of the true Author. And then shall they free themselves of this doubt, when they shall have perused his St. Antonio de Milan, which out of a vow that he had made, to set forth his life & miracles, made him so slow in publishing this his second Part. They shall see how miraculously he treateth of them, and it may almost be counted a miracle, if we will but consider how wonderfully he carried himself in the printing of them. For putting his papers from hand to hand to the Press, and wanting matter for that day's work, I knew for certain, that overnight he composed so much stuff, as did serve to keep the Press going all the next day following: for he was troubled at that time with diverse other businesses, which did necessarily require his help and assistance. And in those short hours of the night, he was seen to employ himself with a great deal of diligence, as well in the affairs of his other businesses, as in the ordering and sorting of papers to send them to the Printers, as also, in the composing of more matter for the Press, besides his attendance upon other things, importing his own person and house. Every one of which would have well required a whole man, free from all other encumbrances. And that, which he wrote in this manner, was all the whole third Book. And though everywhere throughout in all the rest of his writings, he hath showed the Ocean of his wit, being that therein they shall find a most rich treasure of diverse Histories moralised, and expressed with all the elegancy that can be devised, yet this is that enamelling, that beautifies that jewel, and sets it best forth. As all those have affirmed, who had the good hap to have a sight thereof.  
What shall I say of this his Second Part of Guzman de Alfarache, and in how short a time he made it? Which seemeth almost a thing impossible, being so differing from his former, which he was forced to change and to alter, casting it in a new mould, for the reasons before delivered. This will render sufficient testimony of his worth, & bridle those rash tongues and headstrong spirits, which shall kick against him, and vainly and foolishly run on to the wronging of their judgements. If all that I have said be truth, if the learned approve it, the vulgar deny it not, if the world confesseth it; (for here every one may meet with that, which shall please his appetite, which Horace holds so difficult a thing,) if under a profane name he doth write so divinely, that he may serve for a bridle to the bad, for a spur to the good, for study to the learned, for entertainment to ordinary capacities, and in general, for a fine Political, ethical, and Economical School, and so full of sweetness and pleasure, that it may invite any man to look thereinto, and to dwell upon that, which he shall find there set down, both for pleasure, and for profit. What do I throw upon him? or what do I in this, more than to pay him that, which he so justly deserveth? O happy Sevill, that mayst amongst thy many Greatnesses, nay one of thy greatest, glory in this thy Son, whose laborious endeavours, and indefatigable studies, (equalling the very best both Latins and Grecians,) have thus truly merited and deserved, that all the nations of the world, crowning his head with Bays, and celebrating his name, should willingly, and with a great deal of triumph, sing forth his due praise.   

UPON THE BOOK, and the Author thereof.  

Poor Guzman's life, the map of Vice and Sin,  
Story'ed by Aleman, is as a Voice  
From Heau'en, showing how thou shouldst make thy choice.   

The word, Shun thou to be what I have been.  
Who stands here as a Mark; that thou mayst see  
Where his ship was drowned; How the same was split,  
More through lack of Wisdom, then want of Wit.   

Which was the cause of all his Misery.  
The dainty style of this his pleasing quill  
By Guzman's roguish life, adviseth thee  
What an upright and honest life should be.   

How this, doth lead to good; how that, to ill.  
How slight so ere this fiction seem to be,   

None, can be fuller, of Morality.    

FRATRIS CUSTODII LUPI, LUSITANI, Ordinis Sanctissimae Trinitatis de libri utilitate,  

EPIGRAMMA.  
SVnt duo quae pariter virtus perfecta requirit:  
Quòd prauè nunquam, quòd benè semper agas.  
Haec tibi, si cupias, ullo ne tempore desint.  
Auctoris geminum perlege, Lector, opus.  
Antoni nunquam ponat tua dextera librum.  
Nec tibi Guzmani pagina displiceat.  
Si refer as diui mores: infanda prophani  
Si scelera abijcias: omnia puncta fer●…  
Reddite Matthaeo grato pro munere g●…:  
Quo duce conspicuum fit piet at is iter.  
Planius hoc fiet, postquam ex incudibus Auctor  
Sustulerit plenos utilitate libros.    

AD MATTHAEUM ALEMANUM de suo GUZMANO, ΤΕΤΡΑΔΙΣΤΙCΟΝ.  

Ruy Fernandez de Almada.  
VIlibus exemplis Pharij quid grandia caelant?  
Planaque cur simulant abditiore typo?  
Nempè vetant Sophiae mysteria prodere vulgo  
Intimiusque animo pressa figura manet.  
His ducibus Guzmane geris, ceu Proteus alter,  
Plana sub obscuro, magna minore typo.  
Ergò cum scitè 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 dones  
Te sibi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Hispalis almacanat.    

JOANNIS RIBERII LUSITANI ad AUTHOREM,  

ENCOMIASTICHON.  
LAus, Matthaec, tibi superest post fata perennis,  
Quam nullo minuet tempore, tempus edax.  
Orbe pererrato virtutem extendere factis,  
Factum ingens: opus est Martis, & Artis opus,  
Fortunam maior variam superare labore,  
Herculeis maior Quiribus iste labor.  
Maius opus, maior labor est coluisse Mineruam:  
Maior & ex proprio condere Marte libros.  
Heroas decorare solent duo nomina, Mars, Ars:  
Munera tu pariter Martis & Artis habes.  
Mars dedit invictum, quo tendis ad ardua, pectus:  
Excoluit mentem docta Minerua tuam.  
Ingenij monumenta tui super aethera nota,  
Testantur larga praestita dona manu.  
Multa Hispana ●…anit Musa: atqui nullus Ibera  
Dogmata pinxit adhuc 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Testis hic est codex modico qui venditur are,  
Attalicas superant, quas dabit emptus, opes.  
Cuius ab aspectu morsus compressit inanos,  
Inuidia, heu multis iniuriosa nimis.  
Zoile transuerso calamo, qui vulnera figis,  
I procul, en contra numina bella paras.  
Contra Mercurium, Phoebum, contraque Mineruam,  
Mortalis poterit tela movere manus?  
Quisquis avarus ades, redimis qui sanguine gemma,  
Gemma tibi ●…ruo venditur aere, veni.  
Hauris ab 〈◊〉 pericula terra:  
Hic liber arcanas fundet, & addet opes.  
Decolor est diues, fuluo quod pallet in auro,  
Non sunt divitia delitiaque simul.  
At liber hic auri venis qui pulcher abundat,  
Nunc tibi delitias, divitiasque dabit.  
Aureus hic certe gemma est pretiosa libellus,  
Quis tenui gemmam respuas are datam?    

To the Translator.  

Live (Guzman) to a Caveat; Live to praise  
This languaged Man; who hath renewed thy days  
By a new birth. Translating thee, as though  
The English Rogue, were not the Picaro,  
But a more lively piece. Lo, what Art hath done.  
Here the Reflection's brighter than the Sun.  
One Language is too narrow to contain  
The boundlesse-rascall-froath of Guzman's brain.  
It cried for more. This Author, hearing it,  
Employs his Pencil, draws it to the quick  
In English colours: and so sets it forth,  
As Guzman's shame, and furtherer of worth.  
For me, to Guzman-it in Rhyme, or to rehearse  
His Prose; were but to spoil a Rogue in Verse.  
No: Let the Prose remain: Let it commend  
Him, (whom I dare not praise) because a Friend.   
E. B.   

To the Translator.  

But is the Rogue revived? Is Guzman made  
A Spanish-English Rascal by his Trade?  
'tis so. And (as our homebred Spaniards guess)  
he's printed liveliest in the English Press.  
Tongues, have but one Horizon, if they prove  
Each others true Interpreters; and move  
Alike to all the world. But if they fear  
To join; each Language has his Hemisphere.  
And so had Guzman. But this English 〈◊〉,  
Makes it appear to Us, as well as Spain.  
Thus, like a blazing Star, each Author is  
Stretched to a streaming length of Languages.   
E. B.   

To the Translator.  

WOuld any man sit still, and yet survey  
The world at large? Or study to betray  
All humane Quiddities? Or would he view  
All men unmasked, discerning false from true?  
Would any man see Proteus? Would he see  
Proteus again, and say; That this is he?  
Or see the Moon? And when she waxes light,  
Know her to be the same, at second fight?  
In this same Optick-Art, who strives to thrive,  
Let him use Guzman as a Perspective.   

Guzman, is all the World; know him alone,  
And then ye know a Multitude in One.  
The Spanish, lim's him: But this English phrase,  
Adds life and colour; and prolongs his days.  
The Spanish, was too small a Map: But this  
Draws him at large; and shows him as he is.  
Nor let the subject of this Book seem ill,  
Because 'tis Guzman. Painters, show their skill  
No more in Beauty then Deformity:  
No less in Devils then a Deity.  
All's one to them. Nor do they think it more  
To draw fair Virgins, than a Blackamoor.  
Why then, should not a Rascal honour those,  
Whose Language shows him to the life in Prose?   

Read him: and as his Labour shall appear,  
Commend his Pen by which he landed here.   
Edw: Burton.   

To the worthy Gentleman the Translator.  

SIR, I embrace th'occasion, and am glad,  
After that worthy mention I have had  
From both our equal Friends, of you, I find  
A means to know the person with the mind.   

By what you give us here, you, from a wrong  
Wherewith she travelled, vindicate our Tongue.  
The Spanish Rogue? Why 'twas a Lad so hie,  
So full of national propriety,  
Sententious and Proverbial; that his Nation  
Would sooner sheathe them in the Irish fashion  
Than he could put on English. As if here  
Our Language were but just as one poor Shire  
For one of his profession to walk in.   

This 〈◊〉 wherein so many men have been,  
You have dispersed. And till an English strain  
Be taught (as well as this) the tongue of Spain,  
Our Nephews shall reproach it to their Heirs,  
This way our Wus have ouer-mastered theirs.   
W. BROWNE.   

THE PRINTER To the curious Reader.  
IT were a hard task and rarely to be performed, for any Printer to undertake the printing of a Book of this bulk and nature, without some faults; yea, were his Copy never so fair, or his Apprehension so quick. It is a decorum in Guzman to commit many Sol●…cismes, whose life was so full of disorders. This life of his being 26. several times printed in the Spanish Tongue in a few years, did never appear to the world, but with Erratas: which makes me the more presuming on your humane courtesy: And as in the first, so in this Second Part, vouchsafe with your pen, the amendment of these few faults, before you begin to read the rest of his life.  
EDW: BLOUNT.   

Page. Line. Fault. Correct. 32. 15. will apply apply. 39 38. discourses discourse. 110. marg. quandem quando. 118. 20. should him say should one say. 154. 34. turning himself. turning myself ibid. 35. he said I said. 227 36 the would not they would not. ibid. 54. when I come when I came. 269. 44. shoot at shoot. 273. 51 in out it out. 293. 21. ●…d ebb an ebb. 335. 16. herd measure. hard measure.   

The Contents of the Second Part.  

THE FIRST BOOK.  

CHAP. I. GVzman de Alfarache excuseth the process of his discourse, craveth attention, gives notice of his intent; showeth that Lying of all other things is the worst. He treats of the ill government of great men; Of Courtiers, and their vices: Of the Spaniards love to Radishes. Of the order and end of this Worke.  
CHAP. II. Guzman tells what place he served in, in the house of his Lord Ambassador: And that Fools and jesters, are both fit and profitable for Princes: falling into a description of their conditions and qualities.  
CHAP. III. Guzman recounteth that which happened unto him with a Captain and a Doctor at a banquet, which the Ambassador his Lord made.  
CHAP. IU. The Doctor finding himself aggrieved, that Guzmanillo had wronged him in the presence of so many Gentlemen, would be revenged of him. The Spanish Ambassador takes up the quarrel: The French causing another of the guests, that was there at table, to relate an accident that befell the Constable of Castille, Don Alvaro de Luna.  
CHAP. V. A Roman Matron, not knowing how to free herself (without suffering in her honour) from the persuasions of Guzman, who solicited her in his Lord's behalf the French Ambassador, put a jest upon him, which was the occasion of a second disgrace that afterwards befell him.  
CHAP. VI Guzman de Alfarache recounteth, how in the house, whereinto he had withdrawn himself, to make himself clean, another disgrace befell him, and many other misfortunes. And that which passed afterwards, between him and his Lord the Ambassador, with whom he discoursed of politic and grave matters.  
CHAP. VII. The jest being publicly known through Rome, which befell Guzman, together with the ill success that he had with the Boor; for very (hame he departs from thence, and goes for Florence. In which journey, a thief enters into friendship with him, that he might the better under that colour, rob him of all that he had.  
CHAP. VIII. Guzman de Alfarache discourses of Deceit. He departs from Rome. He desires to see Sienna, where certain thieves meet with his trunks, which he had sent away before, and rob him of all that he had.  
CHAP. IX. Guzman de Alfarache, not recovering his lost goods, shrewdly complains of the small punishment that is laid upon thieves. Wherein he delivereth many things worthy the noting.    

THE SECOND BOOK.  

CHAP. I. GVzman de Alfarache, leaves Sienna, and goes for Florence. He meets with Sayavedra, whom he takes into his service. And before he comes to Florence, he recounts unto him on the way, many admirable things concerning that City. And when he was arrived there, he shows him all, that was worth the seeing.  
CHAP. II. Guzman de Alfarache goes to Bologna in pursuit of Alexandro, who had stolen his trunks from him; Whither, when he was come, going about to imprison Alexandro, himself was clapped up.  
CHAP. III. Guzman de Alfarache, discourseth on the injustice, which some judges do, blinded by gain, or by passion.  
CHAP. IU. Guzman de Alfarache, being freed out of prison, falls to gaming, gets money; Whereupon, he resolves with himself to go to Milan.  
CHAP. V. Guzman de Alfarache travelling towards Milan, Sayavedra upon the way, recounts his own life unto him.  
CHAP. VI Sayavedra meets in Milan with a friend of his that served a Merchant; Guzman de Alfarache lays a witty plot how to rob him.  
CHAP. VII▪ The robbing of the Merchant of Milan, as Guzman de Alfarache could have wished it. Aguilera shares so much with him, as of right belonged unto him: And he and his servant Sayavedra go for Genoa.  
CHAP. VIII. Guzman de Alfarache comes to Genoa, where being known by his kindred, he is feasted by them. He persuades every one to live virtuously; And shows the hurt, which Murmurers, Hypocrites, and false Witnesses, bring to men's souls, honours, and riches: He delivereth the great profit, we shall gain, by avoiding such venomous Basilisks. And concludes with telling us, who are true thieves indeed.  
CHAP. IX. Guzman de Alfarache robs his Uncle and Kinsmen in Genoa, and imbarkes himself in the Galleys that were to go for Spain.  
CHAP. X. Guzman sailing toward Spain, Sayavedra by reason of a great storm, grows Sea-sick. He falls into a Calenture, or burning fever. He waxes lightheaded, and loseth his wits. He cries out, that he is Guzman, and growing mad, throws himself into the Sea, where he is drowned.    

THE THIRD BOOK.  

CHAP. I. GVzman de Alfarache, having taken his leave of Captain Favelo, telling him that he was to go for Sevill, makes for Saragoça, where he peruses the statutes of Gotam College, otherwise called, The Hospital of Fools.  
CHAP. II. Guzman de Alfarache goes from Saragoça, and comes to Madrid; where he turns Merchant, and is married. He breaks his credit, and turns bankrupt. He treats of women's subtle tricks. And of the inconvenience of counter-writings; and of their remedy.  
CHAP. III. Guzman de Alfarache prosecutes the success of his marriage, till such time as his wife died. And how her dowry returned back to his father in Law. He discourseth of bad wives, and the hurt they do their husbands.  
CHAP. IU. Guzman being now a widower, resolves to go to Alcala de Henarez, to study the Arts, and Divinity, that he might make himself fit to say Mass. And having fulfilled all his terms, and duly heard his Lectures, he leaves all and marries again.  
CHAP. V. Guzman de Alfarache leaves off his studies; he goes to live at Madrid; he carries his wife with him; from whence they were both banished.  
CHAP. VI Guzman and his wife come to Sevill: He finds his mother to be now somewhat ancient, and well s●…ucken in years. His wife gets her away to Italy with one of the Captains of the Galleys, leaving him alone to himself, and exceeding poor: whereupon he falls to his old trade of thieving.  
CHAP. VII. Guzman being preferred to a Gentlewoman's service, robs her: upon th●… theft he is apprehended, & condemned to the Galleys during life.  
CHAP. VIII. Guzman de Alfarache is taken out of the prison of Sevill, to be carried to the Port, to be put into the Galleys. He recounteth that which befell him on the way; as likewise in the Galleys.  
CHAP. IX. Guzman de Alfarache prosecutes that which happened unto him in the Galleys: And by what means he came to be freed from thence.     

THE ROGVE: OR, THE SECOND PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE. The first Book.  
Wherein, he recounteth what befell him, from the time that he served his Master the Lord Ambassador, till he left Rome.  

CHAP. I.  
Guzman de Alfarache excuseth the process of his discourse, craveth attention, gives notice of his intent; showeth, that Lying, of all other things is the worst. He treats of the ill government of Great men; Of Courtiers, and their Vices. Of the Spaniards love to Radishes. Of the order and end of this Worke.  
COME, let us away. Thou hast now baited and refreshed thyself in thy Inn; Come, I 
Company makes the way less tedious.  say: Arise, and let us be gone, if thou be'st willing to have my Company, and that I should do thee service in this journey; though there is another journey that I must go through with, for whose happy end I go travelling through these stony and desert places.  
Through these craggy Rocks, and uneven 
The Author goes excusing himself.  ways, beset with Bushes and Briers, I doubt not but I shall make this journey seem easy unto thee, with that assured promise which I shall be able to make unto thee, of bringing thee safe to the end of thy desire.  
Pardon my bold proceeding, and tax me not of incivility, that I treat with thee in this manner; I confess that I fail in that respect, which is due unto such a one as thou art.  
But consider, I pray, that what I say, it is not spoken to thee, but that thou shouldst reprehend others, who perhaps have as much need of reproof as myself.  
I go talking at random, (like those that play at blindman-buff) and thou mayst very well tell me, that my tongue runs riot, and that I talk like a fool, or a madman, because I shoot my bolts without fear or wit, and unadvisedly throw the stone out of my hand, not knowing where it may light, or the harm it may do.  
But I shall answer this, with that which a fool once said, that fell a throwing of stones, who as oft as he threw, would cry out aloud, saying, Take heed, take heed, my Masters, for it cannot fall amiss; wherever it light, it must needs hit right. So I likewise tell thee, Que como tengo las hechas, tengo sospechas. 
Proverb.  That if I have sat upon any body's skirts, or shall chance to sit closer unto them, I have reason to suspect, that they will pay me home if they can. For he that reprehends other men's faults, cannot but live in fear of being 
Chi riprende l'altrui diffeto, vive con sospetto. Proverb.  told his own.  
I imagine with myself, that all men are just such as I am; weak, facile, and full of natural passions; nay, sometimes strange and extravagant humours. But it were a thousand pities, that all 
a Mal seria, si todos los Costales fuessen tales.  Sacks should be alike. But being bad myself, I think no man good: such is my wretched condition, and of as many as bear the same mind. I convert Violets into poison; throw dirt upon Snow; and in my thought, trample the fresh and fragrant Rose under my feet. It might in some sort have been happy for me, that I had stayed when I was well, and had not gone on with this my discourse.  
I know, that albeit I have been troublesome unto thee, thou wilt hold me excused, and therefore I shall not need to crave thy pardon, and to beg thy good word and attention; the purchasing whereof, is that which I principally pretend: And albeit many, and peradventure all those that have tasted of the Apple, will deem it to be impertinent and superfluous.  
But me thinks it is not possible that it should be so. For albeit I should be as bad as thou wouldst make me to be, or that I were such an arrant Ass and Coxcomb, as you forsooth in your Idea would form me to be; yet cannot I persuade myself, that thou hadst set thy figure right, or that thy judgement were truly grounded. For no man thinks himself to be the same man, that other men would make him to be; nor judges himself by another's opinion. I think of myself, as thou thinkest of thyself. Every man holds his own fashion the best; his own life, the uprightest; his own cause, the justest; his own honour, the greatest; and his own conceits, those that hit rightest. I took counsel of my pillow, it seeming unto me (which indeed is true) that a prudent consideration doth evermore beget happy events; and that too much haste is the mother of various and unfortunate issues; whose Handmaid is repentance. For do you grant but one absurdity, and a thousand will follow upon it. And therefore, that the ends may not err, (as too too usually it happeneth,) it is fit, that we make a faithful examination of the principles; which being found out, and well chosen, they afford us that help, that we may 
Principia prius quaerenda.  boldly say, that the better half of the work is already finished, reaching forth such a resplendour and fullness of light unto us, that afar off, by natural signs and tokens, they discover those things unto us, which are likely to happen hereafter.  
And howbeit in themselves, they are in substance small, yet in their virtue and operation, they are great, and are in a disposition to matters of much importance.  
And therefore, when we will experiment them, we must propose all the difficulties, examining them with all diligence, seeking to draw all the good out of them that we can, and the soundest counsel; but when we are once resolved that they are actions of Prudence, and so generally taken and esteemed, they ought in all men's judgements to be bravely followed, and put in execution: And by so much the more, by how much the more noble shall that enterprise be, which we pretend to undertake.  
And it is an imperfection, and a notable note of lightness, to enterprise 
To begin things, and not to go thorough with them, argues lightness. Proverb. How a good son in Law ought to carry himself towards his father in Law.  those things▪ which we cannot effect, especially if they be not crossed by some sudden and unexpected accident, or some great impediment or other; for in their end, consisteth our glory.  
My purpose only was (as I told thee before) to benefit thee, and to teach thee the way, how thou mightest with a great deal of content and safety, pass thorough the gulf of that dangerous sea wherein thou sailest. The blows I shall receive, thou the good counsels; The hunger is mine, but the industry must be thine, that thou mayst not suffer hunger. I endure those affronts, from whence thy honour rises. And since thou hast heard it said, Que à que se te hizo rico, que te hizo el pico. That is, that he that made thee rich, made thee likewise to open thy beak, that thou mightest be ready to receive a blessing.  
And therefore thou must strive to imitate that discreet son in Law, who knows by the sweetness of his behaviour and courteous carriage, how to gain the good will of his hard-laced father in Law, and to draw him gently along, to pay his house-rent, to bestow upon him his diet, and his lodging, to put money in his Purse, and for an upshot, a fair wife in his bed; And these are those father in Laws which (like slaves, and common jesters) breed, serve, and entertain their children.  
I am now embarked, I have set foot a Shipboard, & I cannot go back. The Dice are thrown; my promise is past, and I cannot recall it. I have begun, and I must go on. The Subject is mean and base; the beginning small; But that which I intent to treat of, if like the Ox, thou wilt ruminate thereupon, and chew the Cud, suffering it to pass from thy stomach to thy mouth, it may prove important, grave, and great. I will do all that I can to satisfy thy desire; knowing▪ that I should have rather given thee trouble, then content, in unfolding one part of my life, and hiding the other from thee.  
I persuade myself, that many will, or have already said it; Better had it been, that God had never given it thee, and by consequence, that thou hadst never spoke of it; for being notoriously bad and wicked, it had been better for thyself to have smothered it; and for others, that they had not known it. Thou art far wide of the truth; thou hast no good ground for that thou sayest: much less therefore can I be persuaded, that thou meanest well, or that thy drift herein is so fair and honest, as thou wouldst seem to make show of; But I am rather afraid, and do shrewdly suspect, that because they touch thee to the quick, the very wagging of the rod doth (though it ne'er come near thee) much affright thee; thine own guiltiness makes thee to shrink; and it is the galled back, that makes the Horse wince, before the Saddle touch him.  
There is no 
a Mens whipping of themselves, is used by religious persons, for to more fie the ●…sh, and in remembrance of those stripes, which our Saviour suffered for us. There are some that ●…sh themselves merely out of Ostentation. These are fools, and as abominable as Baal's Priests. The Prelates of the Church, and other secular Mogistrates should take order to debarie those to go in Procession, that use it so profanely, and to punish them severely, for ●…ose their ro●… excesses, w●…ch I am ashamed to speak of. an Germany, there was a Sect of Herelikes, called Flagellantes, that were notable Villains, and Drunkards, and condemned for such. Vide Covarrwias. Verb. Diciplinarse. L●…es have ever the best attention.  Disciplinante that whips himself in the holy week, that doth at any time complain of his own lashing, nor doth half so much feel the smart of those stripes which he gives himself, as he doth the pain and anguish of another's hand, when he comes to dress and cure his wounds.  
I either tell thee truths or lies. Not lies. Would to God they were lies. For I know, that out of thine own natural inclination, thou wouldst be well content to hear them; nay, to play and champ upon that bit, it would make thee carry a white mouth, pleasing thyself with the some and froth of untruths. But I deliver truths unto thee; and these are as bitter Pills unto thy Palate. Thou findest fault with them, because they lay open thy faults. Only displeased, because they please thee not. If thou find thyself sound and in health, and thy neighbour sick and weak; if the Lightning shall light upon another man's house, and thine own escape the flame, thou wouldst the better bear it, so as thou be left untouched, no morsel is unsavoury to thy mouth, all is Pheasant and Partridge, and I shall be well received, and kindly entertained by thee. But that thou mayst not (like the Eel) slip out of my hands, I will seek out some Fig-leaues against these your slippery tricks, I will hold you fast while I have you; you shall not for this once, so easily (as you think) escape my hands.  
I tell thee, (if thou art willing to hear me, if thou wilt not, thou mayst choose) that this general confession that I make; this public opening of my Pack, laying before thee all my Knacks, and my Trinkets; I do not therefore show these things unto thee, that thou shouldst either imitate me, or my evil actions; but rather, that (when thou shalt come to know them) thou mayst learn thereby to correct thine own. If thou seest me fall'n, because I was wilful, and would not be ordered; look thou so well to thy steps, that thou mayst hate and avoid those occasions, that wrought my 
Take the good, and leave the bad.  fall. Set not thy foot, where thou hast seen me slip before thee; but let my trip and my stumblings, serve as so many marks to make thee more wary. For thou art a man, mortal as I am, and peradventure neither stronger, nor wiser than myself.  
Look well into thyself; run over very leisurely and carefully, the house 
Look well into thyself, and let others alone.  of thy Soul, and see if thou have not made there, even in the greater and better part of it, Dunghills of filth, and all manner of beastliness; and do not sift and pry so narrowly into thy neighbours, to see if thou canst find but the feather of some bird at the foot of the Stairs, whereat thou mayst pick a quarrel.  
But here I know thou wilt tell me, that I preach unto thee, and that he is a fool, that will seek his cure, from a sick Physician. And that he that 
Medice, cura teipsum.  cannot help himself, can hardly give health to others.  
What wholesome Medicine, or good Cordial, can a man have from a Viper's tooth, or the sting of a Scorpion? How shall he, that is ill himself, advice another not to be ill? I do not deny, that I am such a one as thou sayst: But that will befall me with thee, which betideth some nimble and cunning Carver at his Lord's table, who curiously cutteth up the Brawn, the wing, or the leg of some dainty Fowl, and having respect to the quality of the Guests, whom he is to serve, gives every man his several Plate, studying to please and content them all; They all eat, all rest satisfied and well contented, whilst he himself goes away both weary and hungry.  
At mine own cost and pains, I discover shelves, quicksands, and dangerous rocks unto thee, to the end that thou mayst not fall upon them, and dash thyself in pieces against them, or run thyself on ground, where there is never any hope of coming off.  
Your Arsenic is not altogether unprofitable, but that it will serve for some good use or other; it is worth money, and it is sold in Apothecaries shops. And though it be bad to eat, as it may be applied, it will prove good. In a word, with it those Worms and Vermin are poisoned, which bring hurt and prejudice to man's body.  
My example might serve as Treacle to a Commonwealth, if these fierce beasts that govern it were poisoned; not excusing housekeepers, though 
The hurt which ill government, ●…ses in great men's houses.  never so much in appearance, seeming familiar and friendly unto us, as being one of the worst qualities that they have. For, figuring forth ourselves unto them, to be men of flesh and blood, kindhearted, and subject unto passions, we deposit our secrets in their bosoms, and trust them with all that we have, as relying on their saith and their love, and they cunningly shed 
Tricks of Courtship.  feigned tears in a seeming commiseration of our miseries, when in the mean while notwithstanding, they rend our flesh, & tear our very sinews from the bone with their tyrannies, injuries, and violences.  
O that it were in my power to consume and destroy another sort of cruel beasts, as those that look big, and grow proud of their ease and plenty, go vaunting and boasting of their valour, tearing up the stones in the streets, world-wandrers, Vagabonds from Country to Country, from Parish to Parish, and from house to house, making themselves skimmers of other men's pots, being no way of any profit, or serving for any other use, than the Porters in the 
a Al●…ondiga is a house appointed for Country people, to bring their corn into the City, and there to lay it up. It signifieth also a Aware house for merchandise, where some bring in, and some carry out. Vid. Covarru. pag. 48.  Alhondiga of Sevilla, to lay in one burden, and to take out another; venting lies in one place, and taking them up in another, carrying news to and fro, reporting those things, that he ought to have silenced, being trusted therewith, and willed to be secret, uttering them in prejudice of the person to whom he revealeth them, who cannot but take it ill; maliciously causing differences, and relating things worse than they were meant; bearers of false witness, raysers of dissension, robbers of men's honours, defaming the good, persecuting the just, stripping men of their wealth, and murdering and martyrising the innocent. It were a pleasing sight to see all such perish, and to be made a public spectacle to the world. Nor is there in all Brussels any such goodly hangings, that do either so much adorn, or half so well become any Noble man's house, as these would the Commonwealth, if they were hung up one after another by the Common Hangman.  
For, it is very fit, that there should be Poena & praemium; A punishment and a reward. For if all were good and honest, Laws had been superfluous 
Laws were made for the wicked.  and impertinent. And if all men should have been wise, Writers had been fools. Physic was made for the sick; Honours for the virtuous; and the Gallows for lewd livers. And because I likewise know, that Vice is so powerful, for that it rises out of a desire of liberty, without acknowledgement of any Superior either humane or divine, I am much afraid, that these my written labours, and my many endured misfortunes, will not be of force to bridle thy unruly appetites, and to bring forth that good fruit which I could wish; Holding that pains vain and fruitless, which is undertaken 
When a man's labour is lost.  upon any respect whatsoever, if it doth not in that it pretendeth, obtain its desired end. But because that the Rhethorician doth not always persuade; nor the Physician cure; nor the Pilot arrive safely at his Port; I must together with them comfort myself, in that I have performed my duty, by giving thee good counsel, and by affording thee light, being therein like the Flint, which being strooken, gives fire to others, to be kindled in this or that place, though itself remain without: In like manner, the lewd liver loseth his life, receiveth punishment, and endureth affronts, making himself an example to all those that shall look upon him.  
But here I will betake me to that way, which presents itself unto me in this place; Imitating therein your rude Clowns, as also your nice Courtiers, who passing along by the 
b Roperia. i. Locus Vestimentarius.  Roperia (which is a public place where all sorts of clothes are to be sold;) if by chance they lift up their eyes, and look upon them, those Merchants that sell these commodities, (like your Birchen-Lane men) fall presently a bawling and plying of them; one draws him this way, another that, and keep such a calling, and such a tugging of them, that they know not well which way to turn or wind themselves, they are so distracted by them.  
For they having an opinion (if not a thorow'perswasion) that they do all deceive, all cousin, and lie, they go warily to work, when they buy any wares of them; & I well wot the cause why, which I need not to tell you, 
The ●…ery of so●… Tredes-men.  because that which they sell, will speak it out aloud, without any other bodies help.  
Well, let us now give them way, and suffer them to pass by, if for no other reason, at least for those favours and courtesies which I have had from 
Receivers of stolen goods.  them, in the buying of things that were never bought, giving me good money for that which I brought, and sold unto them; and for teaching me from overnight against the next morning, how to make Cassocks of Cloaks, selling them the shreds for to foot Stockings, and to make soles to keep the feet warm, and free from wet.  
Or shall I here tell thee, that the same is like to befall me, which usually happens to the careless traveller; who not knowing the way, goes from 
The case of a careless traveller.  home, never enquiring how he may hit it, which hand to take, or what turnings to make; so that when he hath gone some half league on his journey, he chanceth to come to the foot of a Cross, where he meets with three or four several ways; and straining himself upon his stirrups, writhing his body, he turns his head about, to see if he can espy any body, that is able to direct him in his way?  
But seeing none there at hand, he falls to a Cosmographical consideration with himself, choosing either this, or that, which shall seem likeliest unto him, to lead directly towards that place, whither he intended his journey.  
I see here present before me so many diverse dispositions, and such various and sundry sorts of tasks, all of them hanging about me, every one striving to hale and pull me as it were by force, to come into their shop. But God he knows, why, and wherefore they do it.  
One would have sweet and pleasant things; another, those that are tart and sour; this man will have his Olives fried; that will no salt, no not 
The diverse gusts and palates of men.  with an Egg.  
And if one man have a mind to eat the leg of a 
a The Spanish word, is pie de la perdis, but the other fits better with our phrase of ●…peach.  Lark roasted in the snuff of a Candle, another would not be wanting, who shall make no bones to tell they, that of all the pulse and roots that God made, there was never any yet that could compare and come near to the Radish for goodness.  
The truth whereof was to be seen in a certain 
b Papelistas; Los que son dados à entender en papeles. Covarrwias. A short tale of a covetous Spaniard.  papelistical Minister, a kind of Officer (as I may so term him) betwixt a Clerk and a Scrivener that is conversant in Paper-businesses; a fellow wonderful ill beloved, a notorious liar, and above all, extremely covetous; who removing from one house to another, after that he had carried his householdstuff, and other old movables belonging thereunto, he stayed there behind alone by himself, searching and prying very diligently into every nook and corner thereof, rifling and ransacking it from the floor to the roof, not so much as leaving a nail to the walls, for to hang a Hat on, or the like necessary use.  
At last, it was his hap to come into the Kitchen, where he lighted upon an odd hole in the chimney, wherein were three or four Radishes, which had lain there a long time, being dry, tough, withered, and good for nothing. These he charily ties up in one bunch, and very carefully brings them home to his Wife, and with a Black-Smithes face, looking frowningly upon her, he said unto her; Is this your good housewifery, this your care of my house and goods, to let things run to spoil? Is money so easily come by (think you) that you make no more reckoning of saving a penny? But as you brought me nothing in Dowry, so you care not (it seems) which end goes forward; sink, or swim, all's one to you. See you this waste of yours? Look I pray upon these Radishes, they cost money I can tell you. You have done well, have you not, to look no better unto them? Keep them I pray against I call for them. I think there is not a more wasteful woman in the world; but I am the worse of the two, and may thank myself, that I would be such an unthrift as to bring a whole bunch into the house at once, when as fewer would have served the turn.  
His wife laid them up safe, as he had willed her, and that very night (that they might not fall out any more about them) the crafty Hilding, very demurely and with a sober countenance, without any the least show of choler, or dislike, sets them down before him, when he was sitting down to supper, who falling earnestly unto them, spoke to his Wife, and said:  
Now in troth (Wench) I swear unto thee, there is no meat in the world can relish better, or hath half so good a savour and taste with it, as an old Radish. I protest unto thee, I like them better a thousand times, being thus lyther, and withered as you see, then when they are fresh and cripsie. I prithee Wife prove one of them, and then tell me if it be not as I say.  
The poor woman had as little fancy to make trial thereof, as she had faith to believe it; but my Spaniard (carrying as they do all a kind of high 
The Spaniard generally carries a great command over his Wife.  hand over their wives) forcing her in a manner thereunto, by his stern both looks and words, made her to eat one sore against her will, and much against her stomach.  
There are a certain kind of men, which are not contented only to commend that, which they themselves like, (be it what it will) but they 
The capri●…ious humours of some extravagant persons.  will (and are angry and offended if it be otherwise) that others do the same, pressing them, as it were, to follow their humour, and contrary to their own will, seem to approve it, at least not stick to praise it.  
And there are likewise another sort of people, which discommend other men's tastes; not considering, that de gustibus non est disputandum, for that they are diverse and various, as are the conditions and countenances of men.  
For though peradventure two may be found, that may resemble one another, yet it is impossible that they should be so like, that you may not perceive some difference. And therefore I must be driven to do that here, which was my hap once to do at a Comedy; where, for that I was one of the first, it was my fortune to be one of the foremost before the Stage. 
Writers, whereunto they are likened.   
Now those that came after, being nothing so well fitted, spoke unto me, that I would lean a little on t'one side. I did so; but in this my moving somewhat aside, others thought much of it, complaining that I hindered their sight; for whom likewise to give them content, I was forced to shift a foot. So that, both the one and the other, made me to stand where they would have me. For they were all willing to see. Insomuch, that not knowing how to accommodate myself for pleasuring of them, I put on Merchant's ears, not vouchsafing to give them the hearing: and standing stiffly 
Proverb.  on my right leg, gave them leave to shift for themselves, to hear, and see, as well as they could.  
The Melancholy man, the Sanguine, the Choleric, the Phlegmatic, the Civil, the Swaggerer, the Rhetorician, the Philosopher, the Religious, 
No writer can please all.  the Reprobate, the Courtier, the Clown, the rude, the Discreet, nay, even my Lady Ninnihammer would that I should only write for her pleasure, words finely pleated, and curiously folded, and that I should apply myself to her conceit, and conform myself according to her stile, making her Mistress both of my pate and Pen.  
It is not possible for me to second so many humours, and to satisfy such different desires: For than had I need (besides the making for every particular man his several Book,) to live so many men's lives, as there are sundry 
The Author approveth this to be his true Second Part.  opinions.  
I have lived but one only; and that which they would falsely entitle me withal, is a testimony against some, of the great wrong they have done me therein.  
My true life, I shall only set it down myself. I will go prosecuting of that, though they go persecuting of me. For there will not another (a) Gill 
Prou. Nunca falta un Gil, que no●… persigua. Dando à entender, que aunque desista vn emulo no falta otro que se substituya ensu lugar. No sooner one corrival gone, but another comes in his place. The Author's end and purpose.  be wanting for the third Part, to come forth against me, as in the Second; and charge me with that, which I never either did, said, or thought.  
That, which I entreat at thy hands, is; That thou wilt neither fear me so much, nor be angry with me in so high a measure, that (I know not out of what humour) thou shouldst wish me hanged; for I find not myself fit for it at this time, neither indeed do I deserve it. Suffer me therefore to live, since it hath pleased God to give me life, that I might correct my errors; and time, that I may amend my faults.  
For my punishments, and my misfortunes, if thou wilt truly inform thyself of them, will serve thee in stead of a Looking-glass, whereby thou may'st see how to link a little better together the past, and the present, with that which is to come in the third Part; to the end, that thou making it all one continued piece of work, weaving it well and handsomely, running along in even threads, thou mayst the better (which is no more than becomes thee) be instructed in the truth of things.  
And this is that mark, whereat I have aimed, and the white, which I seek to hit. Nor am I dainty in discovering my conceits, to those that will be pleased to save me this labour: yet, let it be so carried, that they may boast them of that's their own. For I hold it as a thing undecent, and unseemly, for a man to deny his own name, and to put forth his works under that of another, which hath, and shall upon the like occasion, oblige me at any time, to write so much again as this, that I may not beetaken for a Fool, by taking upon me other men's oversights. But let this rest, lest I might seem to some, to speak more out of passion, than reason; though the judicious (I am persuaded) will excuse this my just complaint, and not think it in this place to be impertinent to the purpose.  
But to return again into the way, whence we have stepped a little aside, I say; That I would have every man to make choice of his own Plate, and 
Of the order and end of this Book: And whereunto it is likened.  to fall to that dish (amongst those many, that we shall serve into this board) which he hath most mind unto; Leaving that unto others, which shall not please his palate, or not agree with his stomach. Nor would I have my guests to think, that this book of mine should be like unto Heliogabalus his banquet, whose board was furnished with many and sundry sorts of meats, yet all of them only serving for the food & sustenance of man, whether they were Peacocks, Chickens, Pheasants, wild Boar, Fish, Milk, Salads, or Conserves, it was one only kind of Vyand, but like Manna, differenced by men's several tastes; howbeit those of Manna, were as every man would have them to relish as himself desired; but these other, according as the Cook was willing to season them, seeking therein to please the filthy luxurious throat of his Master. With variety, nature is adorned; this is that, that beautifies the Fields, to see here Hills, there Valleys; in this place Brookes and Rivers; in that Fountains sprinkling and sparkling forth their pearled drops.  
Let not men be so covetously minded, as to desire to have all to themselves. I have seen the bestowing of many Liveries in my life-time, and the little Page, (I have perceived) was as well contented with his, though it were not so full of Silk, as the tallest man, that had twice as much as he, in regard of the largeness of his stature. I am resolved to follow that path, that shall seem best unto me, for the more direct bringing of me to the end of my desire, and to that place, whereunto I intent my journey. And thou (my discreet Host) who stayest looking for me, since thou dost so well understand and know the miseries, that he suffers and endures, who (like myself) goes travelling abroad to see the world; do not look scornfully upon me, when thou shalt meet with me in thine own Country, and though I come to thy Gate like a Rogue, poor and penniless, dis-favoured by fortune, and forsaken of my friends, yet do thou vouchsafe me a cheerful countenance, and give me that kind entertainment, which thou owest unto thine own worth. For my errand is only to thee, thee only do I seek after, and for thy sake have I undergone this journey, not for to put thee to any charge; nor with purpose to oblige thee to more than thy good will and affection, which thou naturally owest unto him, who offers thee his love: Which if I shall receive from thee, I shall rest fully satisfied, and remain besides, in requital of thy good will, indebted unto thee in an infinite number of thanks.  
But if they which take pleasure in hearing me talk, if they shall likewise be desirous to see me, let them beware, that do not befall them, which is wont to happen to those that are overcurious, who watch and listen, to hear what is said of them; Which kind of men do always Malè audire, hear no great good spoken of them. For with the finest gold, is the bitterest 
Proverb. Con oro fino, se cubre la pildora.  Pill covered. And oftentimes, that moveth some to laughter, which indeed ought to draw tears from their eyes.  
Besides, if any man shall long to know the life that I lead, and the place where I live, he shall therein bewray his own needless curiosity, and give me just cause to suspect the uniustness of his intent, and the little good love that he bears me.  
Let him first apply himself to consider my state and condition, and the great misery, whereunto my disorder brought me. Let such another as I am, be set before him, or let his own imagination represent it unto him, and then shall he presently be able to go discoursing with himself, what pastime may be made with him, who doth pass his time (being a Prisoner and laden with Irons) with a Renegador, or some ruffianly blaspheming officer, that looks to the sure chaining of the slaves in the Galleys; unless happily he will take pleasure in my miseries, and make himself merry with them, as some do with the Bull that is brought in the Marketplace to be baited, whose Darts sticking in his sides, whose strokes and wounds glad the beholders; though I for my part, hold it an inhuman act. And if thou shalt twit me in the teeth, and tell me, that either I cause nauseousness in this my Discourse, or that I fell it unto thee at too dear a rate, seeking forsooth to be entreated, or that I strain too much curtsy, or that I am a little too coy, and too nice with you, making myself more dainty than needeth, or that by my indearing and flatteries, I should commend it for good unto thee; it would grieve me, that thou shouldst have that conceit of me.  
For albeit it be wellknowne, that I always served my Lord Ambassador as a merry companion, and to make his Lordship laugh at my pleasant and witty conceits; for I could then make him sport, when I knew not so much as I do now; and now that I know more, I can not do it. For it is a thing that costs a man dear, and the times are not still alike.  
But that thou mayst well understand what I say, and know what my jests and merriments were then, and what now shall be thought necessary in that kind, harken, I beseech you, with attention to that, which I shall deliver unto you in this ensuing Chapter.   

CHAP. II.  
Guzman de Alfarache tells what place he served in, in the house of his Lord Ambassador: And that Fools and jesters, are both fit and profitable for Princes: falling into a description of their conditions and qualities.  
FRom the great power, and little virtue now a-dayes in men, it so cometh to pass, that faithful servants are not so 
Why great men respect more a pleasant co●…ited fellow, than a faithful and painful servant?  much rewarded for their good services, and personal painstaking, as for the sweet words, flowing from their vain tongues; For the one, they think to be due unto them, out of their powerfulness and their greatness, and therefore are not pleased to accept it in good worth, or thankfully to esteem and acknowledge it. And for the other, they afford them, (for their wit's sake) many graces and favours; and because they want it themselves, they buy out this default with their money. It is great pity, that these men should think, that Virtue should derogate from Nobleness; and by their ill-conceived opinion of it, will not (as a thing abhorred by them) use and exercise the same. 
Why great men study not virtue.   
And for that it is likewise to be purchased and gotten with a great deal of difficulty, and by hard and sharp means, (things that are contrary to their sensuality, and quite repugnant to their power and greatness) they are never without flatterers at their ears and elbows, smoothing up vice, and stroking their evil actions, with a soft and gentle hand.  
This is that milk which they have sucked; thief, those swathing-cloathes wherein they were wrapped; They made it their natural Centre by use, and by all use it continueth still with them. Hence arise those superfluous and excessive expenses, those profuse prodigalities, and those vain magnificencies, which are soon paid, and quickly told out, (when the money is poured forth on the table) but with a great many sighs and tears, when they see how they have fooled it away.  
It is a lamentable case to see, that a Nobleman should bestow a rich suit of clothes upon a Fool and common jester, and scarce give a cast hat to the 
Why great Lords favour flatterers.  virtuous to cover his head. But this is a reciprocal kind of giving, a chop and change, that runs currant among them. For they apparel their bodies with good clothes, and these in requital, cloth their minds with toys, and idle vanities: They throw many favours on those, who softly smooth their humours, with sweet and pleasing words, such as shall sound handsomely, and have their cadence and consonancy correspondent to their disposition.  
But they buy this their pleasure at too dear a rate, and not unjustly neither, for that their praise passeth thorough the mouths of such kind of men, leaving the gate carelessly open, for the better sort to publish their vanities; they falsely conceiving, that that shall redound greatly to their honour and praise, which in truth and in very deed they ought to esteem as a reproach and shame unto them. Yet will I not therefore say; that great Princes should not have their Pastimes; it is fit, that they should have their entertainments and recreations; but withal, in their due place and season: For all things have their time and their reward.  
A witty lester is sometimes as necessary, and as useful as a wise Counsellor. 
Fools and jesters, are sometimes necessary. Proverb. When money is well spent.  Nor do I think it meet, that their hands should be bound from giving, gratifying, and favouring of them; For money, (as I said before) Nunca se goza, si no quando se gasta. We never enjoy it, but when we spend it. And it is never said to be spent, when it is well and wisely bestowed. For I myself (in punishment of my sins) have had experience of the one and the other; and can make this good unto you out of mine own proper actions, the smart whereof I have since sound felt. For, at that time as I served my Lord Ambassador (as you have formerly understood) I was his Favourite, and as it were the apple of his eye; And I can assure thee, that any other corporal 
A jester, a painful kind of Trader.  labour would have been of less trouble unto me, and not have lain half so heavily upon my shoulders: For to utter pleasant conceits, witty jests, and to give a frump, or a flout with a grace, that it may take handsomely, there must many things concur and jump well one with another.  
Hereunto will be required a particular gift of nature, which shall give credit and grace thereunto, with a joint coniuncture in the carriage of the countenance, shape, and motion of the body and eyes; So that the one may help the other, and every one by itself, have it's particular grace, that meeting all together, they may move the more.  
For one selfe-same thing may be delivered by two different persons; The one after such a manner, that he will make thee unbutton 
a The Spanish phrase is, Qui-●…tar el calçado, y desnudar la camisa.  thy doublet, and be ready to burst with laughing. The other, with that ill grace, that thou wilt think the door too far off, and too narrow to get out quickly, and be gone. And let such a one strive all that he can, to give his jests that life, and that grace, that is fit and necessary for them, yet it is not possible (if they do not well become him, and come cleanly and nimbly from him) that he should hit the mark he aims at.  
There will likewise be required a continual reading, to know how, and 
Necessary things for a jester.  when; and from what he is to form his Conceits. He hath likewise need of a strong and able memory, for the keeping in mind of all those accidents that have, and do daily happen abroad in the world, and the knowledge of all sorts of persons, that he may know how to apply and accommodate that which is to be said, with that, of whom it shall be said.  
He must take a great deal of care in the inquiry of those things, that are most worthy the reproving of other men's lives, and most of all, in those that are most noble. For, neither making of faces, freeness of tongue, gestures of the body, life and quickness of the eye, sundry sorts of Matachines', and mimic actions, nor all the skill and wit in the world shall be available to move the mind of one that is vain, if they be not seazoned with the Pepper and Salt of Murmuration.  
That little touch of tartness, that corn of Salt, that drop of Vinegar, is 
Tart jests take best.  that which gives a good relish, and a pleasant farewell to all the rest, be it never so simple, never so unsavoury. For what is otherwise, is accounted but a dull Picture, a course piece of work, and the plain artifice of a poor wit.  
It will also much concern him, to consider the opportunity, and the time, 
jests must not be unseasonable.  when, and wherein he is to break his jests. For, being delivered out of season, and not to the purpose, they utterly lose their grace. For men will not always be willing to hear them, neither are they always, and at all times to be vented; nor they themselves always able to broach them. Ask but this question of him that hath the strongest and ablest wit amongst them; Take the best jester of them all upon the sudden, and put him to exercise his jerks of wit, and to play his pleasant pranks, and you shall find him frozen, and not able to open his mouth.  
This befell Sisneros, (a most famous Comedian) talking with Mançanos, 
Sisneros, & Mançanos, Two famous fellows for their quick wits.  (who was no less famous than himself, and both of Toledo) being a pair of wits, not to be paralleled in their time; to whom Sisneros said; Thou seest, Mançanos, that all the world doth take us for two of the pleasantest and happiest wits that this present Age affordeth.  
Tell me, dost thou think, that upon this same that goes of us, the King our Master will cause us to be sent for, and to come before him? But say it should so fall out: then let you and I come in together▪ and when we have both done him that due reverence that becomes us, if we shall afterwards stand solemnly before him (having sent for us upon the opinion of out wits) it is a thousand to one, that the first question that he will ask us, will be this; Are you Man●…os and Cisheros? Then you shall make answer and say, Yea and it like your Majesty, for I will not speak a word. Then will he (as it is very likely) say again unto us; Come, let us hear some pleasant conceits come from you.  
Now, I would fain know of thee, what we should do in this case, and what answer we shall make him? Mançanos' told him; Brother Cisneros, when it comes to that, (which God forbid) there is no other to be made, but this; That they are not yet fried. So that, neither to all, nor of all, nor at all times are they to be spoken, and when they are to be in request, they are not worth a fig, nor the least hair of thy head, unless they be nipping one's, and dipped in the sauce of Murmiration. And I held this to be one of my greatest unhappiness, that like a setting dog, I was driven to wind out other men's weaknesses.  
But because this was the fifth element, without the which those other 
A 〈◊〉 must apply himself to please others.  four cannot well subsist: and that repugnancy and contrariety doth conserve them; I was continually careful in seeking out that, which to that office which I now professed, was necessarily required, that I might still go getting of ground, and accommodate other men's tastes to mine own. For the better and more essential part is, to win the goodwill of those that hear him, that they may the more willingly commend that, which by him is either said, or done. So that, those endowments which Nature had denied me, I was forced to make good by tricks and devices, assuming to myself illicit licence of language, and using prejudicial dare and boldness, which were much holpen by a particular kind of vivacity, liveliness, and quickness both of wit and spirit that I had in me, having (God he knows) no learning at all. For than I had no more knowledge but of a few languages, which I had learned in my Lord Cardinal's house; and those too were as yet but raw in me, in regard of my green years.  
Consider therefore I pray with me (which you may easily gather out of that I have told you) what I might have in me, and what was wanting unto me, being not left to mine own liberty, and living in necessity.  
In those my younger days, and in that Springtime (as I may so term it) of my flourishing years, all went currently with me; all that I did, became me well, and to all did I fit and apply myself▪  
For these, and other the like things annexed thereunto, I was always 
Guzman, the 〈◊〉 man with his Master.  well clad, much made of, I was the Favourite, the familiar friend, the Master of my Master, as also of all those that were interessed in his friendship.  
I was the principal door, whereby they entered into his grace and favour, and only I the Lord of his Will. I kept the golden key of his secrets. He had sold his liberty unto me, and I was bound to look well unto it, and to take care thereof, not only out of that, but even for charity's sake, and the respect I owe to the Law of Nature, as also for the particular love, that he bore to me, and I to him. For he was not ignorant, but had made often trial of my secrecy, and with what great sufferance I did ever silence those things that he committed to my bosom; which I would none should unlock but himself, who only had that key, to open and shut at his pleasure.  
It comes now into my mind, and so lively represents itself to my thoughts, that me thinks I was then like to a trump Card, which every 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when, and how he list; or as a common packsaddle, that serves for all Horses▪ All did make use of me, though after a di●…ers and different fashion; some, of my actions, for their own proper interest; and others, of my words, for their pleasure and delight; only my Master drew in the same yoke with me, both in words, and deeds.  
I have taken occasion to speak thus much, that men may not conceive this opinion of me, that I go about to tax those Princes, that keep Fools and jesters in their Palaces, for their entertainment, and pleasure.  
Nor shall it be amiss that they entertain them in their houses, not so much for sport and pastime, as by that conduit-pipe, to draw something 
Why jesters are to be permitted in Prince's Courts.  to their knowledge, which would not so well and so cleanly be conveyed otherwise unto their ears. And such occasions often offer themselves, whereof these kind of men may make very good use, by advising, counselling, and revealing grave and weighty matters, under the colour of foolery, which wiser men dare not adventure to utter in earnest.  
There are some witty discreet jesters, which speak Sentences, and are able so sound to deliver their opinions, that their Masters will not stoop to ask advice of any of his other servants, although it might much concern them, and were great Statists, and very well able to give counsel. Nor 
Why Princes refuse the advice of their Counsellors.  indeed will they consent, that they of all other, should give them counsel, that they may not to their inferiors confess their ignorance, or to seem to understand less than they. For even in this, they would fain show themselves to be Gods.  
And such kind of servants as these, are those Parrots, which jupiter desired to have shut up in a Cage; Nor is this mischief of a day old, or was borne but yesterday, that great Persons should scorn and contemn the counsels of wise, understanding, and well qualified men. So great in these men is their pride, and ambition, that they seek to aggregate and draw all things unto themselves, making themselves Masters and absolute Lords, both of our spiritual, and temporal; good, and bad, without controlment. Insomuch that they think with themselves, that by their only breath, they give grace unto others, and not doing them any good in the world, they look to be praised and extolled, as if they were the only men, of whom they did hold their life, their honour, their wealth, and also their understanding, which is the utmost blasphemy, whereunto in this case their folly can reach.  
There is also another great inconvenience, which is this; That as in a chapel of Miracles, we must ha●…g up▪ to sooth their vanity, the spoils, and Trophies of our miseries. For if we recover our lameness, and be once able to go, we must offer up our Crutches unto them, whereof we made use, when we were benumbed, and oppressed with poverty.  
If we escape any dangerous sickness, or mischance, we must sacrifice unto them that winding sheet, which fortune had cut out for us, burn Tapers, and set up Images of Wax, declaring to the world, that this miracle was wrought by them, and must hang up those chains in the Temple, wherewith we came forth from out the captivity of our miseries, and were now brought home, and landed in a safe Haven.  
But this were not altogether so much to be blamed, if these things did only occur upon virtuous occasions, and that they had truly done these men good.  
For there is a kind of thankfulness, due to every good turn that is done 
A good 〈◊〉 requires thankfulness.  us. And then we make it known that we have received a benefit, when rendering thanks unto God, we do likewise publish the virtues of those men, that did do these good deeds: because with an ardent zeal, and servant affection, they did use their best industry, employed their persons, spent their friends, took hold of all occasions, let slip no time, and therein wasted and consumed their money. So that things being thus fairly carried, those that are benefited by them, shall worthily deserve much blame and reprehension, if they shall not render them all fitting and convenient thanks. But they fall as short of these good things, as they do excel in all filthy and beastly vices; wherein they strive to exceed, and be counted the only men: 
A short Tale of a Nobleman; that was much given to Lying.   
As was to be seen in a certain Nobleman, that was exceedingly given to Lying, and lash out so unreasonably in that kind, as no man could outstrip him, who one day talking in conversation with diverse other Gentlemen of quality, told them that he had killed a Stag, bearing so many branches or antlets on his head, that it did plainly appear to be a Lie, though he carried it very handsomely. They all admired it, they said; (but not gainsaid it) that it was one of the strangest things, that ever was seen, or heard of.  
This liked the Nobleman well; But whilst he and the rest were thus wondering at it; Why (quoth an ancient Gentleman, a near kinsman of his) that was there then in company, (after a pretty kind of fashion bringing it forth;) doth your Lordship and these Gentlemen make such a wonder at this? This is nothing, my Lord; For, within these few days I myself did kill one in the same Forest, that had two more than this that you talk of.  
When he heard him say so, the Nobleman blest himself, saying; It is not possible: and looking angrily upon him, (scorning as it should seem to be out-lyde) said unto him; Sir, speak no more of this, tell it no farther, for it is such a thing, as was never yet seen, nor will I for my part ever believe it, though I hold it a courtesy so to do.  
The Gentleman, with a stern countenance, and undaunted courage, (his Age and Alliance heartening him on) in a discomposed kind of voice, boldly broke forth, and told him; Zounds (my Lord) me thinks your Lordship should content yourself, that you have 
a The Spanish word is, Sesenta quentoes. Now un quento, is diez vezez cien mil. But that is not likely, he had so much: and therefore we set it 60000. Couar●…uuias verb. Contar.  sixty thousand crowns a year coming in more than I, without seeking to outstrip me in Lying, as you do in Living. Let me (I pray) though I am a poor man) lie as I list: I beg nothing of you, nor any man else; nor do I rob any man either of his wealth, or his honour.  
There are likewise a certain kind of witty-conceited fellows, that are naturally simple and ignorant; from whose mouth, oftentimes, drop mystical sayings, and worthy the consideration, which God (it seems) permits them to bolt forth now and then, making them also to keep in such things as are fit to be silenced: who (though simple as they seem) have an extraordinary grace in the delivering of them. Which happiness lighted upon one, that was a simple ignorant fellow from his cradle; in whom, one of the greatest Princes in Christendom took much pleasure, who for some secret 
An answer of a sample Fool, to a great Prince.  causes, best known to himself, had discarded one of his gravest, and chiefest Ministers; And this simple fellow, coming one day into his presence, (which was shortly after the other was dismissed the Court) he was no sooner entered in, but the King asked him: What news in Court? He told him, That his Majesty had done very ill, in putting N. D. away: And that it was without any reason, or justice in the world.  
The King imagined, (that cause having been justified by many other of his Ministers) that this had proceeded simply out of his own mouth, and told him, Thou speakest thus for him, because perhaps he was thy friend, not that thou hast heard any man else say so besides.  
The Fool replied. My friend? In faith thou liest. Thou art more my friend than he: I say nothing, but what all men say. The King was offended, that any should dare to question his actions, or to examine his breast. And being desirous to know, if any man of worth had presumed so far to trench upon what he had done. He replied and said; Since thou professest that so many have said it, and that thou art my friend, name one of those unto me, of whom thou hast heard this complaint.  
The Fool paused upon the matter. And when the King thought that he had been calling to memory, whom he should name unto him, he angrily made answer; The blessed Trinity told it me. Now see which of these three persons thou darest apprehend and punish. The King thereupon thought that it was a business of heaven, and so forbore to speak any more of it.  
There are another kind of pleasant Companions, which are good for nothing else but to dance, to play upon Instruments, to sing, to murmur, to blaspheme, to swagger, to lie, and to devour victuals, good drinkers, 
a Buenos bevedores, y malos vividores. The vanity of some great Men in rewarding Fools and jesters  and bad livers. And of these, some are only good at one of these qualities; other some at all. Wherein some great ones take such delight, that they shall have what they will of them, doing them many extraordinary graces and favours, which is a most grievous sin.  
To these, (and only for these jigs) they give jewels of great value, rich suits of clothes, and handfuls of gold; which is more than they will do for a wise, virtuous, and honest servant, which shall treat with them of the ordering of their Estates and Persons, illustrating their names, and honouring their house with glorious Titles. But rather when it so falleth out▪ that these come unto them about matters of importance, and which nearly concern them, they reject them, and will not be advised by them.  
Your Precedents, Governors, Counsellors, and every other Officer 
Why Counsellors of State speak not their minds truly to their Masters.  in Court, or that have aught to do in the Palace, being greedy of honour, and blinded with passion, if they be called to speak their opinion, they often say that in public, which their own private opinion approves not, though it be never so good; because they conceive that in so doing, they shall conform theirs, to that of their Lord and Master, and so mannerly seem to run along in the pleasing of his humour; As also, for that it would grieve them to the very heart, that another should get the start of them, in gaining their Prince's grace and favour from them. So that many are not admitted 
Plain speaking speeds not always best.  thereunto, for that they had not this trump in their hand, and would not play the like tricks, these getting more by their foul, than they by their fair play. By reason whereof, many things remain without remedy and redress; and great businesses oftentimes overthrown.  
And if consultation shall be had of such things, whereof great profit may redound to themselves or to the State, they will tell the Author thereof coldly and dryly, because they will neither thank him, nor reward him; We 
Good labours ill requi●…ed.  knew this before; but there are a thousand inconveniences in it.  
But cursed be those Counselors, who because they were not the first in delivering that sound opinion in such a business, blame the Author thereof, and carried away with the wind of their vanity, and greediness of gain, send him away empty: but using them first as Apothecaries do their Simples; who first distil or pund them in a Mortar, and when they have squeezed all the juice, and wrung the substance out of them, throw out the cake on the dunghill. They will first inform themselves thoroughly of the business, the best that they can; and when they find they are well and fully informed, they take it to themselves, casting from them the true Author thereof; and that good counsel of his, they sell for their own; and this they do cu●… privilegio.  
Some there are, that are like unto those glasses or other vessels, that have 
Shallow 〈◊〉 neither good for them●…es nor others.  great bellies and little mouths, they understand things amiss, and fill their stomach with all that they hear, and whatsoever is said unto them: But although mentell, and power into them never so much, and though they be as full as they can hold; yet because they know not how to conceive things well, they cause others to apprehend as little. And for this reason their businesses miscarry, and take not so happily as they should; for they can not be so well informed of that they treated upon, as those that were the proper Authors thereof, and had beaten their brains about it many days and nights, breaking their sleeps, and losing many a meal, for the better examining of all the contrary objections, and for the advancing of their pretended profitable ends. Much good may it do them, let them go beyond me this way and spare not; for I would be loath in the end to rend such kind of gettings, or to farm them out of their hands.  
My Master took pleasure in hearing me, and liked me for something else 
For what services the Ambassador made much of Guzman.  too besides my talk. For like a good Gardiner, he did gather those flowers together, which seemed fittest unto him for the making up of his Nosegay, picking out the best and the choicest for his particular use, and the rest (which were but as it were the riffraff and refuse flowers,) he reserved only for entertainment.  
He treated with me of that in private, which others did not stick to speak in public. And these his secrets he did not only communicate to me alone; 
The Ambassadors noble disposition.  but when he desired to know any thing, and to attain to the true understanding of businesses, that he might not err, he would consult with men of wit, and those that had the best abilities, he would make very much of them, favour and honour them; and if they were poor and needy, he would supply their wants as well as he could, and more particularly in those things whereof he knew they stood most in need. And this he fastened upon them in that wise and discreet manner, that it should not seem to be bestowed upon them by the way of Alms, leaving them thereby well contented, fully satisfied, and above all, exceeding thankful: It was his fashion, to have two or three of these usually at his table, where were propounded grave politic questions, and businesses of State; and especially touching those things, which did press and import him most, and nearest concerned his own particular ends. By this means, without opening and discovering of himself, he received their opinions, and reaped the chiefest fruits that their wits could afford him.  
The like course he took with the Officers in Court, particular Gentlemen, and some Citizens of the best esteem in Rome; with whom he holding 
His course to come to know what 〈◊〉 done 〈◊〉, and in Court.  friendship, came to know the wrongs they received, the remedies to be applied, and how and which way they stood affected. And then afterwards having a good judgement of his own, he did so dispose of things, as might make most for his advantage, and the King his Master's service; so that he did seldom err or fail in those things that he undertook. He was very discreet, of a settled and well composed behaviour, virtuous, courteous, well studied, and a great lover of those that had in them such commendable parts of learning as were worthy the recommendation. He was endued with all those good qualities, which were to be required in a person of his place and employment; he was like a goodly room, furnished with all those rich ornaments which might set it forth, and make it appear fair and beautiful in the eyes of the beholders, but in the midst thereof, even in the very best part of all the room, there was a 
The Spanish Refran. Estava sembrado y nacido un pero. He had one ill quality, which did drown all the rest. I take that to be 〈◊〉 sense, though I have not elsewhere met with the 〈◊〉 of this 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉.  choke-pear sown and grown ●…p, which did much blemish it.  
This Apple was our general ruin; this Pear the perdition of every particular. He was an Enamorado; one that was over head and ears in love. F●…●…ere is no 〈◊〉 so found, that hath not some corruption; nor no body so free, that hath not some one infirmity or other. And his was, that he did but love too well; yea, even to excess. But in a matter of this nature, let every man judge, as shall seem best to his own liking. Howbeit, many wise men have said, that a man can not be absolutely perfect, unless he have once in his life-time been in love.  
And of this opinion, it seemeth, was that pleasant-conceited Country fellow, that was the common Crier in his Parish, who having often cried an 
A ta●… of a Crier.  Ass, that another Country fellow had lost, and could by no means hear any news of him, (for it should seem some Gypsies had stolen him, who that he might not be known again, had put new marks and colours upon him) did earnestly entreat him, that he would do him the kindness to cry him once more upon the Sunday following, after high Mass was ended; and if he should chance to hear any tidings of his Ass, he would for his labour give him a little young fat Pig that he had at home.  
The knave Cryer greedy of the Pig, did as he had requested him. And all the people being met together in the Market place, he stood in the midst thereof, and cried out with a loud voice; To all manner of people, that are dwellers in this Town, or borderers thereabout, be it known, that if there be any man or woman, that hath never yet been in love, let them come in, and tell their name, and they shall have a fine young Pig for their labour. And God save the King.  
There was placed right against the same, leaning himself against the Wall of the Council house, a lubberly-Lad of some two and twenty years of age, with long shag hair, a russet Cassock on his back, welted with the same doth, open about the shoulders, and close before, Breeches of white cottond Bays, gathered and playted beneath at the knees, a Shirt with a band thereunto, so hard quilted throughout the stock, that a Turkish bow with a very sharp Arrow, was not able to pierce it, a poor threadbare Cloak, a pair of high shoes of Neats-leather, knit together with two strings of twisted Hemp, and barelegged, who coming in all haste to the Crier in his Clownish kind of language, said unto him; Brother Sanz, give me the Pig: for by these ten bones I vow unto you, that I was never yet in love, never had my head puzzled with it, nor ever paid any Tole to that Mill.  
Then the Crier calling the Owner of the beast in all haste, and pointing to this Chop-loch with his finger, said unto him, Anton Berrocal, give me my Pig, and take you here your Ass.  
But that this may be proved, & that truly by some Precedent of these present times wherein we live: There was in Salamanca a principal Doctor of the 
Another tale of a Doctor of Salamanca.  Chair, one of the famousest and gravest Advocates in all that University; that often visited (for his entertainment) a certain Gentlewoman, that had professed herself a Nun, very fair she was, well descended, and wonderful discreet. And he being enforced to absent himself from thence for some few days, he went his way without taking his leave of her, thinking that he had now attained to the perfection of his love, and that there was no need of these finenesses, and niceties between them.  
Afterwards, when he was returned from his journey, he went (as he was want) to visit her. But when he saw, that she would not admit of his Visit, he became very pensive and sad there-upon; because he could not imagine what should be the cause of this sudden strangeness, having always heretofore showed herself very kind and loving unto him. But when he came (by some diligences, that he had used) to know the reason of it, he was wonderful well contented therewith, it seeming unto him, that this in some sort was rather a kind of grace and favour of hers, the●… otherwise.  
Well, he sent unto her to excuse himself, earnestly entreating her, that he might be so much beholding unto her, as to see her, using therein the mean●… of such Ladies and Gentlewomen as were friends to them both.  
At last (through much importunity) fore against her will, she came forth to receive his Visit, but with that anger and disdain, that she could not contain herself, but must needs show it: for the very first words that she let fly at him, were these:  
Base, and ill-nurtured as thou art; for such base thoughts, argue no less than baseness of blood; which is confirmed by thy ungentlemanly proceeding; whereof, to thy shame thou hast made too open show. For having thy being, as it were from me, and for my sake, and having come thereby unto that height, wherein now thou art, forgetting all the good I have done thee, and all the charge that I have been at to qualify thee, and put thee forward in the world, thou hast lost all that due respect and thankfulness, which I deserved at thy hands; but since the fault was mine in raising thee, it is no marvel, that mine should be the punishment.  
To these she added many other more sharp and bitter words: so that the poor Gentleman being dashed quite out of countenance, because many were there present when she used him thus coursely, and gave him such a sound rattling; incensed with the excess of this her rigour, he made her this short and cutted reply:  
Gentlewoman, touching this complaint of yours, be it with, or without any just cause, I will not stand to dispute it; And for your accusing of my un-mannerly proceeding, let that likewise pass; For, Cada uno, siente como ama. Every man best knows, how, and how much he loves. And I acknowledge, that all this ariseth from the many and great favours, that you have been pleased to confer upon me.  
But whereas you touch me in my reputation, (being forced thereunto by you,) it is fit and necessary that therein I should satisfy those that are here present, I must be so bold with you as to tell you plainly; That since God hath been pleased to raise me to that I am, I come not thereto either by corruption, or favour, but by mine own great pains, and continual studies, have I procured my preferment. She then interrupting him, and not suffering him to go on, returned him, but with a great deal of choler, this quick answer:  
Thou liest like a Villain. Thou rise by thy learning? Thou hadst not come to that great knowledge that thou hast, nor hadst ever had so much wit, as to learn to mend so much as an old shoe, if I had not put spirit into thee, quickened thy wit, and perfected thy understanding, by giving thee leave to make love unto me. This whetstone put an edge upon thy dull sconce; and but for this, thou mightst have sunk, and never been able to lift up thy head.  
By this than we may see, how much it may import a man to love; and 
Touching 〈◊〉.  that it is not so great a fault as some would make it. Mistake me not; I mean, when the ends are good, and honest.  
But in my Master it was taken in the worfer part; for his ends did exceed and pass their bounds; and the blame of all that ill was laid upon me; every man conceiving, that I was the cause thereof: Complaining, that since I came to serve him, I had opened his scull, and put into his head nothing but Hawkes-bels and Rattles: All that he took delight in, were merry tales, idle jests, and the like vanities: which till then, he had never formerly been given unto.  
It might very well be, that with my heat I might cause some buds or little sprigs to sprout forth. But for to speak the truth (seeing the Parties are not here to be examined, and I am the man whom they thus accuse) I assure you, that others had the handling of him before, that wrought him this harm.  
For when I entered into his service, and that he ca●…e to put his cure into my hands, the Physicians despaired of his recovery, and had given him quite over, and would have no more to do with him; I will not deny, but that I might minister much thereof unto him; for by reason I was in such favour with him, I had likewise the freedom to use many odd foolish jests, and prejudicial liberties of speech.  
I was familiarly acquainted with all Rome, I had as free access into every house, as into our own; excusing my pretensions, that I only repaired to 
Guzman's course of life in Rome.  such and such places, to give lessons to some to sing to the Gittern, and teach other some to dance.  
I did entertain your young Wenches in good conversation with merry and pleasant jests; and your widows, with whispering tales in their ears; and entering into a league of friendship with your married men, I got likewise the good will of their Wives, to whom they would bring me to laugh and make sport, wherewith they were well pleased, for the good contentment they took in my harmless mirth.  
And all this I did, to the end, that from this good ground, my Master might take occasion to declare and open himself more freely to me. For I relating unto him, what, and how things passed abroad, it was an easy matter for me to kindle with the breath of my words, the fire that was in his heart, by blowing first away the ashes from off those coals, that were already throughly tinded, alive, and very quick within him. He was in a good disposition thereunto, and therefore any the least occasion would serve the turn. He was a kind of house made all of thatch, so that a little spark was enough to raise a great flame, having such combustible stuff to work upon, being still affectioned to that, which himself had most mind to, without having respect to that discreet carriage, which he formerly observed in all his actions.  
I do ingeniously confess, that I was an instrument of his excesses and flyings out, and that in regard of my being seen to walk here and there 
Guzman an i●… instrument to his Master's desires.  to and fro, to enter into this house, and to come out of that, many houses, and women of good quality, were spotted and branded with infamy.  
But let us here leave my Master as a man, to whom albeit these things did cause him to be noted, and to have his good name called in question, yet was not he so much to be blamed, as those who did know well enough, what manner of fellow I was.  
I would many times demand of them, what honour or profit I did reap, by being interessed in these businesses? Why should Widows take delight in hearing of tales, and pleasant jests? Why Parents bring such straggling wanderers home to their Daughters? Or why Husbands make their Wives merry with such dangerous intertainments? What other good can be expected from your neat Pages (such as I then was) who do scarce touch the ground that they tread on? What do your Princes witty jesters, and your 
Pages & Dwar●… of 〈◊〉 use.  Great men's Dwarves serve for, but to talk with Ladies and Gentlewomen, and to endear unto them their Master's love? who again inquire of them, what good tables they keep, how gallantly they live, how much they spend, what in Amber, and other odours and sweet perfumes, what in the pomp of apparel, and what in Music that they daily bestow upon their friends and Mistresses?  
Why do they talk and give ear to such things, whereby they afterwards give occasion to others to open their mouths, and to utter with their to●…gues all that they either know or imagine? Do not they perceive, that i●… so doing, they build but their own prison, and weave that winding sheet, wherein their good names must be wound and b●…yed? What b●…fit can the content they take in harkening to merry 〈◊〉 bring them? which 〈◊〉 to no other end in the world, but to give way unto them, that they may report to their Masters, what they take most pleasure in, besides the questioning of their good name amongst their neighbours? Let these a God's name make themselves merry with the reward of their errors; and if they be lovers of jests, it is no marvel if they be jested withal. They desire a life to have music play at their windows, whilst others in the mean while are making Ballads of them, to sing forth their shame at every man's door.  
A Widow, that respects her honour, and will have a care of her credit, 
A lesson to Widows.  must keep her door shut, her daughter chambered up, her casement close, and above all, not suffering her to have her own will, and to do what she list; that she be visited but seldom, but be always occupied; for, of idleness, (a) grows wantonness. And it stands with good reason, Que la madre 
Proverb. Del oçio naçe el negocio.  holgazana, saque hija cortesana: That a light mother, should breed a loose daughter. And if she love to have her train played withal, that her daughter will prove a Wagge-tayle. And if she hap to be married, she will turn ill huswife, because she hath been ill taught.  
By this you may see, what obligations the Parents have to look well unto their Children: Let them take away all occasions of scandal; Let them 
A lesson to Parents.  weigh with themselves, what (upon the like occasions) they murmur and whisper of others. And then let them consider, how much better it were, that their Wives, Sisters, and Daughters, should rather learn to handle their Needle, then to play on the Ghitterne; to govern well, rather than to dance well: For hence it cometh to pass, that many women, not knowing how to look so well as they should, into the corners of their own houses, busy themselves, in working strange alterations in those of others.  
Speak I truth, or no? I know, ye will tell me that I do. For such truths as these are not to be treated, or mentioned, but upon necessity, and urgent occasion.  
I confess it to be so, and for my part, I approve it. But because that which I have said, toucheth none of those that hear me; it is therefore well said, to the end that when it shall be needful, and men see their time, they may be the better able to give good counsel unto others, when they see them step out of the way, and go awry.  
Maloes' lo malo, que nunca puede ser bueno. Ill is that ill, that never can be 
Proverb.  good. It was not good, I confess, that I should be a Bawd to my Master, But every man would fain live. And this Office I performed by those tricks 
Guzman, his Masters Bawd.  and devices I told you of before, taking occasion by my familiar and general acquaintance in Rome, to go as boldly into every man's house, as I would into mine own, excusing this liberty of mine, by those pretensions I made, of teaching some to play upon Instruments, and some to dance; entertaining in the mean while Maidens with merriments; Widows, with old wife's tales, and what was whispered abroad; and entering into amity with married men, good honest kind Cuckolds.  
But I was in some sort to be excused, (if not borne withal) for that my wants and necessity drove me to do as I did, and opened that door unto me, whereat I might get forth to seek my living.  
But what excuse can they have, who for the light toys of this world, will venture the loss of their reputation upon earth, and those rich treasures that are laid up in heaven for those that live well? which two things every man ought most to esteem, and have ever before his eyes. But what I did herein, was to wedge my Master's affection unto me, and to work myself into his favour, both which I came to be possessed of; and not with intent and purpose to reclaim him from this his weakness, and to persuade him unto better courses, but rather to spur him on in this wretched race that he ran.  
But he that would trust me in such like businesses as these, and communicate himself unto me in this kind, what could he look or expect from me? I know there are many men, who think it is a great credit unto them, that they do nobly, and get a great deal of reputation and esteem, by these their visits, their ingresses and their egresses, when indeed, it is quite contrary.  
For your women that entertain chat with your crackrope Pages, with your giddy-headed Poets, that never go without a musk 
a The Spanish word is, Alco●…ça ●…i. una costa de açucar refinado con mezcia de poluos cordiales. Alcorcillas', we call Pastillas' de boca. Vid. Covarrwias. Verbo Alcorça.  Comfit in their mouth, or chewing the rind of a Lemon, with your flat-capped Citizens, your country Lads, and the like; some perhaps may hold them discreet; but I am sure they lose the name of chaste, which as an inestimable jewel they ought highly to esteem, being for their labour ever after accounted fools.  
Now the profit that I made by this my occupation, trading with this person, and with that, with t'other and tother, this my conversation being so general, it was the only means, that kept me from being discovered to be a Bawd.  
But (to say the truth) they might very well have put the implumed Hat upon my head, which I have seen worn by many others in my days, who did less deserve it then myself, in token they were love's Ambassadors, whom he employed in his chiefest and most secret affairs.  
Here, in me, may you see how misfortunes fall to men by inheritance. Hither to it hath been delivered without any disguise or masking, how I led my Master along, never suffering him to take any rest or quiet; and how he made me another Adonis, in the neatness and gallantry of my clothes, and delicacy of Perfumes, for the great care and diligences that I used in these and the like businesses.  
But true and certain it is, that murmurings and whisperings attend such 
False murmuration bites, true kills. Proverb.  Actions. And if a good man be now and then bitten, what wonder is it, that a bad man should be bruised and crushed therewith to pieces? Y que aya sospechas; donde no faltan hechas; And that there may well be suspicion, where deeds make confession.  
It were a great deal of simplicity and ignorance in me, and other such as I am, for to seek after any better name, or to go about to make (as they say) a stone Wall of 
b Proverb. Tapiar, a piedra lodo.  mud; thinking to stop men's mouths, and to hinder their ill imaginations and bad conceits of us, when as we ourselves give them such evident occasions to conceive amiss of us.  
None can impose, or set any sessing or ratable fine upon men's censures and 
men's censures not to be avoided.  opinions; for that were, Poner puertas all campo; to set up gates to shut in such a vast circuit, as is Salisburie-Plaine.  
Thou canst no more limit a man's thoughts, than thou canst number the sands of the Sea. It is not I that can make them to think, or not think as I would have them; I cannot be master of their thoughts; nor will it boot any one man to deny that which all men affirm. It will be but trouble without profit, a needless and endless piece of work; wherein we shall show ourselves as foolish as he was, who went about to lock up the smoke, to make doors to shut it in, and to keep it close prisoner.  
But what shall we now say of our foolish Masters, who persuade themselves, that this their business passeth secretly and safely thorough our hands? Shall I deal truly with you? I will. Take it then from me, and I know it to be true, Que no ay çiençia, que corrija un ena●…rade. There is no scourge of 
Proverb.  wit or learning, that will lash a wanton Lover out of his lust.  
For matters of Love, there are no Bartuli, no Aristotle's, no Galens; their counsels fail them; their wisdoms are too weak; and their Medicines can 
Lo●…e hardly removed.  do no good upon them. Nor there is not any thing, that doth more publish and manifest this truth, than men's solicitude and care in these things, from the which none (that are taken therewith) can contain themselves. For with two Visits of ours, and one intercourse of theirs, or but a passing by their door, make the little children (those shrill trumpets of truth) to sound forth their lightness aloud thorough the streets.  
The greatest punishment that lighted then upon me was; that my hairs began to sprout, and my Chin to put on a beard, the which the more I shaved, because I would not have it perceived, the thicker it came, & grew the faster. And for that it is a peculiar Office belonging to handsome and witty Pages, to be Venus and Cupid's chiefest Ministers, the more diligence I used in tricking, adorning, trimming, and setting myself forth in lafcivious manner, the more occasion I gave the world thereby to talk and judge of me accordingly. I studied to be neat and handsome in my clothes, but took no heed how foul the fashion of my behaviour was; and therefore it was no marvel if they threw dirt upon me with their tongues. In a word, either actively or passively, every one would bestow upon me El number de las pasquas, and 
Proverb.  force me to wear their Livery, you know what I mean; And though I told them they lied like a company of Rogues and Villains as they were, they would laugh, and hold their peace, giving by this their mystical kind of silence, a more open way unto the truth. Their taunts against me were true, and struck deep, but whatsoever I replied upon them, they made but a jest of it; my words were but as the pecking of straws, theirs as the piercing of Darts.  
There are a kind of considerate and discreet men, which take the sayings of men, not as the words sound in themselves, but as they are, from whom they come; regarding more the speaker, than the thing spoken. And this is a great point of wisdom.  
Again on the contrary, there are some (I know not whether I may be so bold to call them fools or no) who from some disfavour of their Mistresses, 
A c●…g trick to defame in this manner.  form an injury, and as if it either were, or might be so, they will be revenged of them; and laying some imputation upon their honour, seek to scandal and defame them, without any reason or cause in the world. I was not able to stand against so many, nor could my Sword cut out his way thorough such a multitude that set upon me: I saw they had reason on their side, and therefore I was willing to bee-●…ush, and to pocket up these wrongs with patience.  
And albeit it be an Act of true humility, patiently to suffer reproach; yet in me it was cowardice, and deie●…tion of the mind. For that I held my peace and said nothing, there was good cause why; because I knew all the speaking in the world could not help it. It might well have made matters worse, but never a whit the better. And seeing that I had not one spark of shame in mine own house, I would not for shame go seek it elsewhere; the fire of my zeal to good was quite out, there was no recovering of it. And therefore (making a virtue of necessity) I was forced to pass over all these bobs and jerks they had at me, sometimes with a smile, sometimes a jest, and sometimes with both.  
In conclusion, howbeit I ought rather to have endured any the greatest hurt that could come unto me, then submit myself even in the least degree 
Proverb.  to base gain; yet notwithstanding, I had, like the Melon, 
a Tenia como el melon la cam●… hecha.  my bed made for me. I saw I could not well be worse thought of then I was already, and therefore casting aside all thought of amendment, I counted it a credit unto me, and took rather a pride in it then otherwise, and so making light of it, and jesting it out, I did set a good face on the matter, when they said any thing to me, that I might not seem to be dashed out of countenance, or bound to give them an answer, which would but have made them to vex me the more, and done myself no good. So that by this they persecuted me the less, and I passed the more quietly along by them. 
To pass things by with patients.   
And why should I take (seeing this did serve my turn, and that I passed well enough with it) any other course with them? Which in these dangerous cases, if I should have attempted any other way to pacify them, I should never have been able to do it; and should thereby have but made the fire more to flame, by seeking to assuage it with Flax and Rozin.  
Let him therefore, whosoever will take upon him to set open a shop to Vice, provide himself of a Tortoise shell, arm his back with patience, and keep his ears, and his mouth shut. And let not any man flatter himself, that having foul conditions, he shall get him a fair report. For, El number, sigue all hombre; As is the man, so is his good name. And as every one deserves, so shall he be esteemed.   

CHAP. III.  
Guzman de Alfarache recounteth that which happened unto him with a Captain and a Doctor at a banquet, which the Ambassador his Lord made.  
THere is so thin a Pale put betwixt Deceiving and Lying; and are so near kin the one to the other, that I 
Of deceiving and lying.  know not who can tell, or is able to distinguish and difference the one from the other: for though they are different in name, they are one in identity, and of the same parity in effect, and in essence alike. For there is no Lie without Deceit, nor no Deceit without a Lye.  
He that will lie, doth deceive; and he that will deceive; doth lie. But because they are commonly received after a different manner, and for different purposes, I will take them as they stand in use, and accordingly discourse thereof.  
Deceit then, in respect of Truth, is as Truth, in regard of a Lie: or as the shadow of a Glass, and that natural form which it representeth. It is as aptly disposed, and is made as facile to effect whatsoever great hurt, as it is l●…rd and difficult to be found out at the first; for that it is so like unto good; that representing the very selfsame figure, fashion, motion, and proportion, it doth the easier destroy it. It is a most subtle net, wrought of the slenderest and smallest threads, in comparison and likeness whereof was framed that other, which the Poets feign, was made by Uulcane, when he caught him that cuckold him.  
It is so imperceptible, and so fine, and thin; that there is not any sight so clear, any judgement so subtle, nor any discretion of that discerning, nor any wit of that nimble apprehension, that is able to discover it, nay, scarce to perceive it.  
It is so artificially wrought, that though it be spread out abroad, and laid forth as plain as may be to our view, yet are we not able to escape it, in regard we walk on securely, not so much as once dreaming of any fraud or deceit. And by this means it is so strong, that few or none do break it, without leaving some sign of the harm that they have taken. And for this cause, it is justly called Maximum vitae damnum; the greatest hurt that can happen unto us in this life. For under a tongue of Wax, it carries a heart of Diamond; it clothes itself with haircloth, though it never come near the skin; it keeps a chupping and sucking in of the cheeks, for to make it seem lean and meager, when its belly is ready to crack with good cheer. And having store of health to sell to others, it speaks pulingly, and pitifully; and only that it may seem to be sick, it puts on a sorrowful countenance, pours out its tears, offers us its bosom, 
Of all mischiefs, decei●… is the greatest.  and with open arms, runs to receive us, but as joab did Amaza; embrace, to kill.  
And as Birds give the Empire to the Eagle; Beasts, to the Lion; Fishes, to the Whale; and Serpents, to the Basilisk; so amongst all other mischiefs, there is none greater or more powerful, then that of Deceit. As an Asp, it kills us sleeping; it is that Sirens voice, whose delight (like a Butcher's Cur) first seizeth on the ear, and next, on the throat; it's ravishing, is murdering; it offers a fair assurance of peace, and with a great deal of smoothness, professeth friendship; but neglecting all humane and divine Laws, breaks them at her pleasure, leaving us with as much wrong, as scorn.  
She promiseth cheerful contentments, and certain hopes, which she never performeth, nor do they ever come to pass, because she goes chopping and changing them from Fair to Fair, to make her own market. And as a house is built of many stones; so one deceit is an addition of many other; and all of them serve for one and the same end. It is the Headsman of all goodness, for with a seeming kind of sanctity, it makes every man secure, and there is none that are either aware of it, or fear it. It comes unto us in the habit of a Hermit, the better to execute its ill intents.  
This contagious infirmity is so general, that not only men, but Beasts and Birds do likewise therein suffer with them. Also the Fishes in the Waters exercise deceits; and this they do, the better to preserve themselves. Trees and Plants do deceive, promising pleasant flowers and fruits, which fail us at their time, passing bravely away with it. Stones, though they be but stones, and without sense, trouble our sense, with their counterfeit splendour, and lie, in that they seem to be that they are not. Time, occasions, and our senses deceive us; and above all, our best and most considerate thoughts. In a word, all things deceive, and we do all deceive, one of 
Four manner of ways of deceiving. The first.  these four manner of ways.  
The one is, when one useth a deceit, and goes cunningly away with it, leaving the other deceived: As it happened to a certain Student of Alcala de Henares; who, when the Feast of Easter was drawing near, and 
A Tale of a Scholar of Alcala.  having nothing wherewith to make himself merry against that good Time, he called to mind a neighbour of his, who had a Court or yard, with great store of Hens in it, with the which he did himself no good at all.  
He was a poor beggarly fellow; and as he was very poor, so was he extreme covetous; an erranter miser was there not in all the Country. He fed them with the bread that was given him of Alms; & a nights he shut them up in the same lodging where helay.  
This Student went plotting with himself, how he might steal them away, but lighted upon none that did yet like him. For in the day time it was impossible, and in the night they roosted in the same room where he himself lodged.  
At last he bethought himself of feigning a packet of Letters, and to put there-upon two Ducats 
a In Spain, they do not pay for the carriage of their Letters before-band, but p●…t so much Port under the Superscription, to be paid by him that 〈◊〉 it.  Port, directing it to Madrid to a certain principal Cavallero, and a Gentleman very well known: And before the break of day, he very secretly laid it on the threshold before his door, that as soon as he opened it, he might presently find it. He got him up in the morning, and as soon as he saw it, not knowing what it was, he took it up.  
This Student past that way in the mean while, as it were by chance. Whom this poor man espying, came unto him, and entreated him to tell him what those papers were. The Student told him; Marry such (said he) as I would be glad with all my heart I could light upon the like.  
These (quoth he) are Letters directed to Madrid with two Ducats Port upon them, to a rich Gentleman that resideth there, who shall no sooner receive them, but will see you truly paid for your pains.  
The poor man began to look up, and was so over-ioyed therewith, that the tears did trickle down his cheeks. He thought with himself, that one days travel was a thing of nothing; especially being that he might perform this journey by noon; and though he went thither afoot, he might in the evening, without any trouble, return home in some one Cart or other that was to go for Alcala. Where-upon, he went and fed his Poultry, shut them up safe, leaving out such food as he thought sufficient for them, and so hies him away with his Letters.  
The Student that night made a shift, by getting over some back-sides, and out-Courts, to get into that yard, where the poor man's house was, and heaving the door off the hinges, he gets me in, taking nothing away thence but the Hens, leaving no more but one only Cock behind, with a mourning-hood on his head, and a Mantle of black Bays, so surely sowed on, that they could not fall off; which done, he withdrew himself homeward to his lodging.  
When the poor man was come home to his house the next morning, and saw the misfortune that had befallen him at home, and that he had bestowed his labour in vain; for there was no such Gentleman to be found in all Madrid; he, and his Cock did bitterly bewail this their solitude and widowhood, making lamentable moan each unto other: the good man with his mournful words; the poor Cock, with his mourning weeds.  
Another kind of deceit is: When together with the deceived, the Deceiver 
The second.  is also deceived. As it happened to this Student in this very case. For, he being not able to effect this business alone by himself, and that he must needs use the help of some body else, he took unto him one of his Comrades, whom he acquainted with the business, promising if he would assist him in this theft, he should share half with him.  
This his Companion discovered it to a friend of his; he, to a third; so that the word passed from one to another, till it came to the ears of certain mad Wags of Andaluzia; And for they were old Castilians, (and their Opposites for this cause) they agreed together to strip them of their Hens, by another pretty device.  
They knew the house from whence they were to come, and the streets, through which they were to pass; They feigned themselves to be the justice, and they watched till they should return, at the turning of the street: whom they had no sooner espied, but they issued out 
a This is the fashion, and language of the justice in Spain, when they walk the Round.  upon them in form of a Circle, hedging them in on every side, with Lanterns, Swords and Bucklers, having appointed the foremost man to ask, Who goes there? What are ye? Stand. Upon this, they verily thinking, that he was one of the justice's servants, and being loath to be either known or taken with that bad word of bidding them Stand, they threw down their Hens, and began to take them to their heels, as hard as they could drive. So that there were not some wanting, who did also cousin, and deceive them.  
The third kind of deceit is; When it is without prejudice. Neither deceiving others, together with themselves; nor decei●…ed, when they go about 
The third.  to deceive. And this may be done two manner of ways; Either by Works, orby Words. Words, by recounting Stories, telling of Tales and Fables, and other things of entertainment. Works, as by juggling, sleights of the hand, tricks on the Cards, and other the like devices, which are done without any harm or prejudice to any.  
The fourth kind is; When he that thinks to deceive, is himself deceived; that trick that he would put upon another, being put upon himself: 
The fourth.  As it befell a great Prince of Italy, though some report the same of Caesar: Who, that he might grace one of the famousest Poets of his time, carried 
A pretty passage betwixt the Prince of Italy, and a Poet.  him home to his house, where at first he used him wonderful kindly, made exceeding much of him, did him many favours, and bestowed many gifts on him, as long as his humour was pleased with those Poems that he presented unto him.  
But this lasted not long, the Prince's affection falling off by a little and a little, till at last the poor Poet was fain to content himself with his bare lodging, and some short allowance. So that he suffered much want and necessity; and was grown so poor both in his purse, and his apparel, that he durst not go abroad for shame, because he had not wherewithal to cover his nakedness.  
The Poet weighing and considering this his unhappiness; and seeing himself shut up as it were in a Cage, and that neither (which is permitted unto Parrots) the Prince himself, nor any about him, would vouchsafe to hear him speak, he resolved with himself to rouse up the Princes long sleeping favour, and waiting an opportunity to do it, understanding such a time, that he was to go abroad, he attended at a certain place, which he thought fittest for his purpose and when the Prince drew near, he made toward him, and kneeling on his knees, when he came at him, he presented him with a Poem that he had made; which the Prince receiving, he thought by this means to revive that remembrance of him, which had so long lain dead. He continued in these kind of diligencies so long, that the Prince being wearied out with these his importunities, was determined to put some jest or other upon him, to make him to desist from giving him farther trouble in that kind.  
And having himself made a Sonnet, and going out to walk one Evening, when he saw the Poet was coming towards him, preventing him in the presenting of his Poem, he drew the Sonnet out of his bosom, and clapped it in the Poet's hand; the Poet understanding the trick, as one that was discreet, feigning to have read it, highly commending both the Verse, and the Invention, put his hand in his pocket, and plucked out a (a) Royal of eight which he had there, and gave it to the Prince, telling him withal; Such a good wit well deserves a reward. I give you all that I have, had I more, you should have it.  
With this the Prince was fast, being caught in the same snare, and paid 
A Royal of eight, i●… four shillings English.  with the same trick that he purposed to put upon him. And from that time forward he favoured him, as he had done before.  
There are many other kinds of these deceits; and one above the rest, which is a very dangerous one; which is that of those, who would make us to believe that for Gospel, when as our own eyes and knowledge do both see, and know the contrary. 
Many other dangerous deceits.   
A fellow that is basely both bred and borne, and well enough known to be such a one, will seek by his haughty carriage and proud looks, to gain 
Proud fellows.  unto himself the name of a great man, though (God he knows) he is scarce worth four Maravedis; giving (by his ill proceeding) occasions to others, to scoff and laugh at him: And to say, what fellow is this? What was his beginning? Of what continuance his Ancestors? Whence doth he fetch his Pedigree? What did his Gentility or his Office cost him? What trade was his Father of? and of what occupation his Mother? These men think to deceive others, and they deceive themselves. For not by this means (that is to say, by pride) but by humility, affability, and fair behaviour, they go by degrees, throwing in their earth, till they come in time to fill up those ditches, and to be level and equal with the best.  
Others seek to deceive with their fierce looks, thinking thereby to be 
Swaggerers.  counted valiant, as if we did not know, that they are the only men, that dare not meddle with a Mouse; or tread upon a Worm, if he should but offer to turn tail.  
Others with their too much prattle, and quoting of Authors, seek 
Talking scholars.  to be held wise men, and learned Clerks, not considering that many Stationers have far more in number, who notwithstanding in matter of knowledge are merely ignorant men. For neither the long Gown, nor the broad-brimed Hat, nor the Mule, for all his grave Foot-cloth, shall be sufficient to cover the disease they are sick of, but at three or four shake of the Urinal, we shall discern those rags, and cloudy streaks that are in their Urine, and then they will plainly be discovered what they are.  
I have said of some, that they repute themselves wise and learned, because 
Stationers.  they have store of books, and that your Stationers have many more than they; but many of them are worse than these blockheaded Doctors, who with a great deal of pains, and by tradition, understand the Frontispieces of books, and yet notwithstanding, being often therein deceived, they fall headlong into the pit of ignorance; now would I have thee to tell me which of these two do deceive most? I shall tell it thee. They are both of one grain, sown and reaped under one and the same Moon, bread of the same meal whereof most men do eat, and is their only nourishment.  
But out of the number of these, do I except Paulus and Aldus Ma●…tius; 
Printers.  Henricus, Robertus, and Carolus Stephanus; Adrianus Turnebbius, Franciscus Sansovinus, and many others like unto them, not only mere Stationers, and Printers, but learned and famous Scholars, and of great note in the world, whose works and labours do and shall ever render thereof a perpetual testimony. There have been diverse other worthy understanding men in this their profession; who in their life-time, have published and brought to light many most noble and excellent Authors; who, if they had not by them been revived, had been buried for ever in the Churchyard of oblivion. Whereas now many of them by these men's great pains and industry, are raised from their graves to immortality.  
Others are grown so foolish, (and indeed are accounted no better) who 
Old men.  being now grown old, decrepit, and unable for any kind of use or exercise, and this their weakness being notorious and well known to all the world, and this their rotten building ready to fall, yet are they willing to deceive themselves, and every body else (if they could) contrary to all truth and reason, by dying the hairs of their heads and beards, as if any man were so ignorant, and did not know that there are none of these changeable coloured beards, but at every motion of the Sun, and every cast of the eye they present a different colour, and never a one perfect, much like unto those in the ●…cks of your Doves and Pigeons; for in every hair of these old Coxcombs, you shall meet with three diverse and sundry colours; white at the root, yellow in the middle, and black at the point, like unto one of your Parrot's feathers.  
When women do the like, there is not any one hair of theirs, which hath not its different colour. There was a certain Gentlewoman in the 
Old women.  world, that shall be nameless, (which of mine own knowledge, I am able to affirm) who did use this dying and colouring of her hoary hairs, which one day I did diligently mark and observe; and believe me (for let me not live if I lie unto you) some of them seemed green unto me, some blue, some yellow, some vermilion, and others of diverse other colours; and in some one odd hair, all these colours did conjoin and meet together. So that seeking thus to deceive Time, and to dissemble her Age, she discovered her folly, and became a laughing stock to as many as looked upon her.  
That some young folks should use the like deceit, who by inheritance have been borne with grey hairs, (who like the fruits that grow in the 
Young folks.  fields of Placençia, grow ripe before their time) it is no great marvel. Yet even these too (though better to be borne withal) give occasion of having that freely spoken of them, which they willingly would avoid, whereby it comes to pass, that as they increase in years, they decrease in credit.  
O thou unfortunate, miserable, and wretched old Age, thou sacred Temple; 
Old age, a venerable thing. Old age necessary, yet not regarded.  thou Sanctuary of safety; thou stop to the desperate carreeres of this life; thou Inn of rest to our weary bones; How is it that thou art so much abhorred in this life, being that thou art the Haven, which all men desire to attain unto? How is it that they, who respect thee a far off, when they come nearer unto thee, stick not to profane thee? How is it, that thou being the vessel of Prudence, thou art derided as foolish? How is it, that thou that art honour itself, respect and reverence, art by those that are thy best friends reputed infamous? How is it, that thou being the Treasury of knowledge, art despised and contemned? Either there is some great defect in thee, or some evil disposition in them; whereof the latter is most certain. They come unto thee (wanting the ballast of grave counsel and sound advice) like a Ship without sand or gravel in the Keel of her, to keep her steady; through lack whereof the Barkegoes roullingand tottering too and fro, because their shallow brains want that due weight and counterpoise, that should ballast their understanding, and keep it strait and upright.  
To this purpose I will tell you a tale, worthy of long consideration, though the discourse be short, and feigned for this effect.  
When jove had made the fabric of this Universe, it seeming unto him, 
A pretty Tale.  that all was fair & perfectly good, before he created man, he form all other living creatures; amongst the which, the Ass being desirous to be the most remarkable and renowned of all the rest, (which had he not done, he had not been an Ass) as soon as he had scarce newly opened his eyes, beholding this glorious and beautiful frame, he was wonderful jocund and merry; began to 
jupiter and the Ass.  leap & to skip from one place to another, and to bray (as they use to do) aloud (being the first trumpeter, that ever was in the world) till being quite wearied out, and glad to take his ease, being a little gentler and cooler than h●… was before, it began to come in his mind; How, from whence, and when he was an Ass; for that he had not been an Ass from the beginning, nor begotten by an Ass. Which made him to examine with himself why, and to what end he was created, and what place should be provided for him, where he might take his rest; it being a thing proper unto Asses, to take the ends of things into their consideration, when they are already past all remedy, and (as we say) at the last cast, when the jollity of their youth is past, the●… merry days spent and gone, and their pleasures at an end.  
And yet would to God, that some would come to this amendment, and persever therein, 
a Tempran●… se recoje, quie●… ta●…de se convierte.  Que temprano se recoje, quien tarde se convierte. For he recals himself in time, that returns at last. In this melancholy humour, my honest Ass comes me to jupiter, humbly beseeching him, that he would be pleased to reveal unto him, who he was, and for what end he had created him? jupiter told him, For the service of Man, and told him by piecemeal one after another, all those duties and services belonging to his charge, and what manner of burdens he was to bear.  
Which news was so unpleasing unto him, that upon the very hearing of it, there suddenly came bruises and gallings upon his back, and hardness of hooves, with his head and eyes hanging down to the ground for very grief. And out of a conceited fear of his future labour, (for evils not yet endured, out of the noise and rumour that they make, do, at the first nomination of them, fear us more than when we afterwards prove them) he remained in that sad and melancholy dumpishness as we now usually see him, conceiting that to be a most yerkesome and painful kind of life whereunto he was destinated.  
Whereupon he farther entreated of jupiter, that he would be pleased to tell him, how long he was to lead this miserable life? jupiter told him, he was to continue therein, the full term of thirty years.  
The Ass hereupon began to mourn and grieve anew, it seeming unto him, to be as it were a perpetual and eternal slavery, if it should last so long: And therefore once more he humbly besought jupiter, that he would have compassion of him, and not suffer him for so long a season, to endure so hard a servitude. And being that he had not yet dis-merited of him, by any fault that he had committed against him, nor would (if otherwise he could choose,) ever offend him, that ten years might suffice for his living in this base fashion; all which time he would faithfully promise unto him, to serve man well & truly, like an honest Ass, with all meekness and fidelity. And those other twenty, which were over and above remaining unto him, that he would bestow the ouer-plus of those years upon some one, that were better able to bear them.  
jupiter being moved with these his humble and earnest entreaties (looking, poor silly fool, most pitifully,) granted him his request. Whereupon the Ass was not al-together so sad as he was before.  
The Dog, whose nature it is, to wind and sent out things, stood all 
jupiter and the Dog.  this while attentively harkening to all that had passed betwixt jupiter and the Ass. And being desirous likewise to know something concerning his good or bad fortune; albeit he carried himself herein like a Dog, seeking to nose out that which was not lawful for him; to wit, the secrets of the gods, which are only reserved to themselves, (of which nature are future things, and such as are to fall out hereafter;) yet notwithstanding his error therein was worthy some excuse, because he had the manners to crave this kindness of jupiter, and did not, as some women do, and some of those peradventure that now hear me, who without God, (but not without the Devil) seek after Witches and Gypsies, to tell them their fortunes.  
But how can they tell thee any good, who themselves are so bad? They 
Witches and Gypsies, full of fraud and dec●….  tell them a thousand lies, and fraudulent inventions, and steal from them (be it good or bad) all that they can finger, leaving them afterwards amazed, ashamed, mocked, and deceived, and laughed at for fools as long as they live.  
But to return to our Story that we have in hand; The Dog came to jupiter, and besought him, (seeing that he had proceeded with the Ass, his Companion, so graciously, giving him upon the hearing of his Petition, satisfaction to his demands) that he would likewise afford him the like favour.  
Who made him this answer; that his Office must be to run a hunting, and to kill Hares, and Coneys, but not to touch or eat one bit of them, but 
The Dog's office.  with all faithfulness to resign them up unto his Master. And afterwards, when he should return home weary and stiff with hunting, and following of his Game, he must be content to submit himself to be tied to a post, to guard the house, where he should wait the eating of late and little suppers, feeding on a few cold ●…raps, and be glad to gnaw upon a bone, that had been already picked and thrown away. And besides, (which was worse than all the rest) he should have many a bang about the loins with a Cudgel, and many a spurn and kick with the foot.  
Then did he ask him again, for how long a time he should endure all this pain? jupiter told him, thirty years.  
The Dog, when he heard this his doom, was very much daunted, and discontented, as thinking it too intolerable a thing to be endured; But relying on that grace and favour, which jupiter had showed the Ass (hoping that he should taste as much of his goodness, as his fellow before him) entreated him to take pity of him, and that he would not permit, that he should receive so much wrong, and be so hard and coursely used; for he was the workmanship of his hands, and no less his creature then was the Ass; and besides, he was more loving and faithful, than all the other beasts of the field. And that therefore he would vouchsafe the favour, if not to lessen the time of his troublesome life, yet at least to equal him with the Ass. jupiter condescended. The Dog, in token of his thankfulness, bowed his nose to the ground, remitting into his hands the remainder of those his other twenty years.  
Whilst these things were a doing, the Ape did not sleep, but lay close, and listened very diligently to all that had passed, longing to see what 
jupiter, and the Ape.  would be the end and success of these their supplications. And because it is a peculiar property belonging to the Ape, to imitate that, which others do, he would likewise in this follow his fellows, being desirous also to know, what should become of him? Persuading himself, that he that had showed so much mercy to the Ass, and the Dog, would take no less pity of him.  
Here-upon, he goes me to jupiter, and humbly entreats him that he would deign to give him some light of that, which was like to befall him in the passage of this his life, and for what end he had created him; for it was not a thing to be doubted, that he had made him in vain.  
jupiter signified unto him, that it should for the present be sufficient for him, only to know, that he must go trailing of a chain upon the ground, 
The Ape's office.  with a great clog at the end of it, that should continually accompany him, and be bound as a Surety for him, in case he were not tied fast to some Post, or the bar of a Window; where, in the Summer he should suffer heat, and in the Winter, cold; endure hunger and thirst; eating his meat, leaping, and skipping, and fetching m●…ny a friscall. And that for every bit they gave him, he must first make a thousand chatterings with his teeth, and as many mows and mops with his mouth, in requital whereof he should receive so many lashes with a whip, only to provoke others to laughter, and to make them merry.  
He thought this was hard teaching, he did not half like it, it was too cursed a School for him to be trained up in, and would then, (if he could) have made show thereof by his many tears; but putting a good face on the matter (as your Apes can when they list) and patiently brooking his hard fortune, he would feign likewise know, how long he must be tied to this hard course of life? He received that answer from him, as the rest had before, to wit, thirty years.  
Grieved with this answer, but comforted with the hope that he had in the all merciful jupiter, he besought him that they might not be more than those of other beasts, and even those few, he thought were too many to be endured.  
jupiter made good his request, and granted him what he desired; and the Ape kissing his hand (as if he had been borne a Courtier) with a low Congee took his leave, and went away with his other Companions & friends; the Ass, and the Dog.  
After these things were thus finished and set in order, jupiter at last created 
jupiter and the Man.  Man, making him a more perfect creature then any of the rest, giving him an immortal and discursive Soul; He gave him power and dominion over all that he had created upon earth; making him the usu-fructuarie Lord thereof. Man was very well pleased there with, and took great delight in beholding how goodly a creature he was; how fair and beautiful; how curiously organised; how handsomely shaped; how strongly set; how great and powerful a Prince; insomuch that he began to think with himself, that such an excellent fabric, was worthy immortality. And therefore he entreated jupiter to tell him; not, what should become of him hereafter, but only, how long he was to live? jupiter replied; That when he first determined the creation of all kind of living creatures, and more particularly of Man, he was then resolved to have given every one of them thirty years of life apiece.  
Man here-upon, began much to marvel, and wonder at the matter, that for so short a time, he had made so admirable a piece of work; for in the opening and shutting of the eye, like unto a Flower, his life should pass away, and should scarce bring his feet from forth his mother's womb, but that he is entering with his head into that of the earth, rendering up his body to the grave, not enjoying his age, nor that delightsome and pleasant seat, wherein he had been created.  
And therefore considering with himself what had lately passed betwixt jupiter and those other three beasts beforementioned, he humbled himself before him, and with a lowly (but pleasing) countenance, bespoke him thus:  
Supreme jupiter; if my demand shall not be troublesome unto thee, and 
H●… man should treat with God?  against thy divine Orders and Decrees, (for my intent shall never extend itself to any the least breach of the least of them; nor shall I ever require any thing of thee, but what shall be fitting for me to crave, and shall stand with thy willingness to grant, always conforming my will to thine) I humbly beg this boon at thy hands, that thou wilt be pleased, (since that these brute beasts, unworthy of these thy favours, have refused that life which thou gav'st them, the happiness whereof, as being deprived of reason, they did not well understand, in that they have every one of them surrendered twenty years of those, which thou granted'st unto them,) to bestow those years upon me, which they have refused, that my life may thereby be enlarged; and thou, by me, the better served.  
jupiter gave ear to this his Petition; and granted unto him, that (as Man) he should live but his own thirty years. Marry when they were spent, he should inherit those of the other three in their order.  
First, he should enjoy the Asses twenty, supplying his Office, in moiling and toiling in the world, tumbling and tossing to and fro, first to one place, and then to another, carrying and re-carrying home, and out again, carking and caring to provide for the necessaries of this life. This thou must do, (if thou mean to live another day) from thy thirty, to fifty.  
Now from fifty to seventy, thou shalt live like a Dog, barking at ●…e, snarling at another; grumbling at this, and growling at that, vexing thyself, and offending others.  
And lastly, from seventy to ninety, thou must play the Ape, counterfeiting those thy defects of Nature, and using of tricks and toys, and I know not what foolish and fantastical devices.  
And hence is it, that we often see in those that come to this Age (for all 
The folly of some old men.  they be so old) would fain seem young; Tricking themselves up so neatly and so sprucely, jetting it (like young Gallants) up and down the streets in gay clothes, visiting this Lady, making love to that Mistress, and undertake, I know not what impossibilities, that they may be accounted jolly stout Gentlemen, representing that, which indeed they are not, even just for all the world, as the Ape doth, who is never quiet, nor thinks himself well pleased, but when in his actions he is imitating man, though he can never come to be a man.  
It is a terrible thing, and not to be endured, that men will, in despite as it were of Time, (which discovers all deceits) and ought likewise to put them out of this their error; will apply themselves to run a course contrary to the truth, and that with their tinctures, playstrings, lees, and slibber-slabbers, should play as it were with a jugglers box, to cousin others, and discredit themselves.  
As if by these Artifices, they could eat the more, sleep the sounder, live the longer; or be troubled with the fewer infirmities and diseases; or that by this course they take, the teeth which they have shed, would come again, or to keep those from falling from them, which are yet remaining. Or as if by this means, they could repair their feeble limbs; recover their natural heat; quicken anew their old and frozen blood; or as if thereby they did think they had the power in their own hands, to make themselves what they list, and as lusty as they list: In a word, as if they were ignorant what the world talks of them; when as they themselves talk of nothing else, than which is the better lie, and which the better dye; which either this, or that other man makes. Nor is all this, which I have now delivered unto you, much amiss from the purpose; being that I am to make my conclusion touching this point, the propositions consisting of two Gentlemen, both freemen of this foolish Company, for whose sake you have had the Premises.  
My Lord the Ambassador (as you have already heard) kept a free Table, was rich, and took great pleasure in keeping a good house. And because all 
A Tale of two Gentlemen, that dined with the French Ambassador.  guests do not always give content; it one day happened, that he made a feast for the Spanish Ambassador: and amongst diverse other Gentlemen, there came two to dinner unto him, that were principal Persons: the one a Captain; the other, a Doctor of Law: But to his Lordship both troublesome and wearisome alike, for the great pleasure that they took to hear themselves talk. Of whose impertinencies, and frivolous discourses, my Lord had in private some speech with me heretofore.  
For albeit he took great delight and contentment in hearing men of wit and learning, speakers of truth, and such as were discreet in their carriage and behaviour; so on the contrary, could he by no means endure any kind 
Lyer●… and Flatterers, hated of all good men.  of falsehood or lying, though it were but in jest and merriment.  
He could not abide an Hypocrite, or a flatterer; plain dealing with him was a jewel; He would, that men's words and works should be simple, without sophistication, and truly noble, without any manner of doubling, and dissimulation.  
And howbeit in these two men, there were very good motives and reasons to cause men to hate and abhor them, yet I am of the mind, and hold it infallibly true, that in the liking, or disliking of this, or that man, one more than another, there is some Celestial influence conspiring therewithal; and on these two had it wrought with great efficacy, and strong effects; for there was no man but did hate them.  
My Master would fain have rid his hands of them, and have shaked them off, but he could not; for that they met him in the street in his way homeward, and would needs wait on him to his house, as men that did much honour his Lordship, and did owe him a great deal more service, than this their willing attendance upon his person, whereunto they owed all respect. So that my Lord (being so noble a Gentleman as he was) was driven by force to invite them to stay dinner, who had as it were by force accompanied him to his house. Nor is there any vexation, that can vex a man more, than such petty vexations, which a man would fain put off, but knows not handsomely how to do it. O this encroaching kindness, what a cross it is, when it shall be enforced upon a man whether he will or no, unless the one will be as uncivil as the other is impudent!  
As soon as I saw my Lord enter within the gates, I perceived presently by his countenance, that something, whatever it were, did trouble him. I looked earnestly upon him, and he understood my meaning. He told me what it was, (speaking unto me with his eyes, by casting them upon those two Gentlemen;) and I needed no farther instruction to direct me, what I had to do.  
I held my peace for the present, and dissembled my anger, beginning to cast about with myself, what course I were best to take, to make these men, (who had so distasted my Master) a sport and laughingstock to all the rest of the company, and so make them pay dear for their dinner.  
I had no sooner entertained this thought, but there came presently into my head a pretty odd prank, that made fit for my purpose. Nor did I take much pains in the finding of it out; for they came thither handsomely interlarded, and the jest, themselves had brought it along with them ready dressed, and very well seazond. Only I expected a fit occasion, to set it before them, which was now near at hand. But I did defer it, till the last course should be served in, and almost ended, that it might take the better. For the 
a Que la boca se hincha de risa, no ha de estar el vientre bazio de vianda.  mouth, that will be filled with laughter, must not have its belly 
Proverb.  empty. A merry heart, and a hungry maw, seldom meet. Tanto se rye, quanto se come. As a man likes his fare, so he laughs; proportioning his mirth, according to his meat. The Cloth was laid, meat on the board, the Guests were merry, healths went round, and when I saw their bloods grew warm, and that they were set upon the merry pin, talking and laughing on all hands, some of one thing, some of another, a little before they were to wash, the Towel being not yet thrown on the board, nor the Basin and Ewer set down, I came close to the Captain's side, and rounding him in the ear, told him a notable non sequitur; He laughed heartily at it; and being bound to requite me with another, made me bend down my head towards his bosom, that he might the better tell it me in mine ear; and so in secret, we made two or three passages one upon another; and when I saw my time, and that it served fit for my purpose, I began to raise my voice anote higher, and with a cheerful look, smiling merrily upon him, (as if we had talked all this while of that which I shall now tell you, when (God he knows) we had never a word of any such matter I told him, No, my Senor Capitan, no, 
Guzman puts a trick upon the Doctor and the Captain.  you shall pardon me, I will not; if your Worship will vent it yourself, you may better do it then I, for you have a good tongue to put it home, and a better arm to maintain it. I will hatch none of your eggs (good Captain) forth with them yourself. For these are no fit and savoury jests, for such a poor Youth as I am, and being so great a servant of Master Doctors, as no man in the world can be more.  
With that, My master, and all the rest of the Guests besides, began to cry out unto meat once, How now, Guzmanillo, what's the matter? I know not, Sir, unless my noble Captain here long to see my crown shaved, and to have me to take my Degrees, which it seems, he would fain have me to do, seeking to set the Doctor and me together by the ears, and putus to the paring of each others nails, till we be both touched to the quick.  
The Captain, when he heard me say so, was frost-bitten, and marvelling what the mystery of this roguery should be, suspected there was some knavery in it, though he knew not what. And not knowing what to do, fell a laughing, without speaking any one word at all.  
But the Spanish Ambassador called unto me, and said, Friend Guzman, now by my life, you shall not smother it; what's the matter, I prithee? Let us know of thee, why at one and the selfsame time, thou laughest, and yet seemest angry? It must needs be some good conceit or other, and therefore out with it.  
Seeing your Lordship hathlaid down so great a pawn as your life, I shall (though loath, and much against my will) tell you what it is; and I protest unto your Lordship, that I had rather have held my peace; and had you not sworn by your life, I would sooner have had my tongue drawn backwards out of the nape of my neck, then to utter the least syllable of that which I shall now fully deliver unto you. Your Lordship shall therefore understand, that my Captain here laid his Command upon me, that I would break a jest upon this Doctor, my worthy and noble friend; girding at the cut of his beard; for he saith that the fashion of his beard, is just for all the world like one of those upon your Flemish jugges, and that a-nights he puts it in a Press; made of two thin Trenchers scru'de wonderful close, that no Ghitterne can be closer shut up in its Case, that it may come forth the next morning with even corners, bearing in gross the form of a Broom, narrow above, and broad beneath, his Muchatoes, Ruler-wise, straight and level as a line; and all the other hairs, as just and as even, as a Privet hedge, newly cut; answering each other in a uniform manner, having the point thereof in form of a Quadrant, drawn neatly out, that it might make the fairer and larger show. For such a goodly Beard accompanied with a Roman Bonnet, (like your Briefs and your Largs in a Singing-mans' Book;) doth grace his lesser and grosser notes. As if this were sufficient to make him be held a great Scholar; As if this fair outside, were a qualification for him; as if men had not seen your Cavallos Argeles, some horses with one only white foot on the far side behind, having all the other parts of their body of another colour, and yet come of a very good race. And some great blockheads, (though bred up in Universities,) whose ignorance is a great deal larger than their Gowns; being like herein unto some kind of Melons, which cousin us with the gloriousness of their colour, seeming to be good Melons to the show, but indeed are worse than Pompions; no stuff, no goodness in them. And this is that, which my Captain would have had me said, as from myself. And this was it which made me cry, No, no; and that he should tell it himself, and he would, for I would none of it. This is all, my Lord: if there be more behind, your Lordship may be pleased to lay your Command on the Captain, who (I know) will be ready in this, or any thing else, to do your Lordship service.  
The Captain blest himself, when he saw whither I had driven the nail, wondering at this my subtleness of wit, and cunning conveyance, himself and all the rest of the company laughing at it, but none of them witting whether it were a truth or a lie, that had passed thus between us.  
But my Doctor, having his head well warmed with Wine, knew not whether he were best to be angry, or to turn it to a jest? But because they looked still more and more upon him, and every one's eye was fixed on him, he paused a while, and carrying a countenance betwixt anger and shame, at last he vented himself, and spoke thus unto them:  
My Lord, if my profession would permit it, that I should give myself that satisfaction, which such an impudency as this deserveth, your Lordship might easily believe, that I would comply with that obligation, wherein I stand bound to my Progenitors, and the honour of my House.  
But being that your Lordship's presence doth privilege this insolent boldness, and that this place will afford me no other weapons than my tongue, your Lordship may be pleased to give me leave to demand of this Captain, How old he is? For if that be true which he says, that he served the Emperor Charles the fifth in his wars, being with him at the battle of Tunez, how comes it to pass that he has never a white hair in all his beard, nor black one in his head? And if he be so young, as he would seem to be, why doth he say, that he was present with him, at such an ancient piece of service, and so long ago as that was? Let him tell us, I pray, in what jordan he hath washed, or to what Saint recommended himself; to the end that we may all offer up Tapers to his shrine, and have recourse unto him for help, when we shall have the like need? Let him first declare this, and then let him go on with his game, and I will play mine as well as I can. And since he hath first trumped about, let us try, who can soon beat out one another and win most Tricks. For there is no reason he should so carry it away, nor shall he get any thing by his crossing of me, while I have a trump in my hand.  
All the whole board fell a laughing afresh, but especially my Master, for that two things were then treated, which of all other he did hate and detest, and desired the reformation of them, as no man more.  
And having well observed all that had passed herein, he said unto me; Now tell me, Guzmanillo, what thou dost think of this? Since thou hast 
The Conceit consists in the word, Lie; for that they did colour the hairs of their Beards, with lees made of purpose for that use.  proposed the Argument, I will have thee to resolve the Question. I than told him, All the Answer that I can make your Lordship, is only this: That they have both said Truth, and yet both of them lie (a) in their beards.   

CHAPTER IU.  
The Doctor finding himself aggrieved; that Guzmanillo had wronged him in the presence of so many Gentlemen, would be revenged of him. The Spanish Ambassador takes up the quarrel: The French causing another of the guests, that was there at Table, to relate an accident that befell the Constable of Castille, Don Alvaro de Luna.  
THey did all highly commend the jest, and some did endear it so far, that the Doctor thereby was the more enraged, insomuch that they were sorry they had pressed it so far, and given it so great an applause.  
But the Ambassador of Spain, through his great wisdom, threw in his 
a The Spanish word, i●… meeter el baston. A metaphor borrowed from a Master of Defence, who when his Scholars grow 〈◊〉 and angry at play, throws in his cudgel between them, whereupon they ●…old their ●…ands. So that metre el baston signifies metaphorically, the reconciling of friends▪ when they begin to grow ch●… one with another.  Warder, and took up the quarrel, making it (by his discreet handling of the matter) a merry meeting only of friends, where no exception was to be taken at any thing that should merrily pass amongst them.  
The Captain was a good natured man, well behaved, an old beaten Soldier, and a good fellow, who laughed heartily at it, let it pass as a jest, and blessed himself, vowing and protesting, that he never spoke any one such word unto me, nor was it ever in his thought to touch upon any such point. And though he were nipped, yet because he was a discreet Gentleman and a Soldier, (amongst whom now and then jests are broken, as well as Lances) should the Doctor have used him worse than he did, he would either not have heard it, or seem to set light by it, for that he thought he had some reason so to do, because what he then spoke, came from him, as one that had been much injured and abused.  
But when the Doctor certainly knew, that I had been the only Author of all this mischief, he did set upon me in that fierce and terrible manner, 
The Doctor grows very angry with Guzman.  that he did cut his words with his teeth, not being able to pronounce them plain, through his too much eagerness, and heat of choler. And he would fain have risen from the table to have had me by the ears, and to have pummeld me sound about the head and the nose, and to have buffeted my cheeks; but they would not suffer him so to do.  
And seeing he could not be revenged of me as he would; and having no other weapon left him to beat me withal but his tongue, he roundly laid about him, and letting the reins lose to his rage, he bestowed his Livery upon me, calling me by all the vile names, that he was able to reckon up; whereof I made little reckoning; but did rather help him on, by teaching him what he should say.  
This madded him more than all the rest, to see me thus mock and scoff at all that he said, which made him break out worse than before, and to grow far more violent and outrageous with me. For, as if this bitter jest had been some Excommunication, that by a joint consent, and general Council as it were, had gone out against him, and that every one of us had a finger therein, he cared not whom he paid; and almost, nay, more than almost, (if my Master had not stopped him in this his furious course, as one that knew well, what a huge dust, a foolish choleric fellow will sometimes raise, both to his own and others hurt) this business had grown exceeding foul. 
The French Ambassador seeks to 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉.   
He sought to pacify him with the best reasons he could then use unto him, as one that would fain turn the water another way, and divert these his evil intentions towards me; Which that he might the better do, he began to shuffle the Cards anew, sundering the one from the other; and that he might wholly cut off all that former offensive conversation, he turned himself towards Caesar, that Neapolitan Gentleman, who had told him of that sad accident, that had befallen Dorido and Clorinia (who was likewise one of his guests) and said unto him:  
Senor Caesar, since the hard hap, and untimely death of the fair Clorinia is now known to all Rome, and to these Gentlemen that are here present, let us entreat you to do us the favour, to deliver unto us, what became of constant Dorido; for I have a great desire to know how he sped. That, and it may please your Excellency (said Caesar) you shall hear in its due place and time; for this is no fit season for it; it being not meet to mingle such misfortunes amidst our merriments, nor will it suit so well with this day of feast and jollity, especially considering what hath passed here already to the disturbance of this good company, that are met here of purpose to be merry.  
But since that we have now dined, and the time of each man's taking his 
a The Spanish word is Siesta.  nap, draws on, I will recount another Story unto you, which this present occasion represents unto me: Which for that it is a true one, I doubt not but ye will be much delighted therewith. They all kindly entertained his proffer; and when he saw they were attentive to hear him, he thus began:  
The Constable of Castille, Don Alvaro de Luna, in the time of his greatest Greatness (his Honours increasing daily more and more) residing in 
A Tale of diverse and sundry accidents of Love..  Ualladolid, took great pleasure in the Summer to rise betimes in the morning, to go abroad to use some exercise, and to take the fresh air of the fields. And after that he had been walking thus abroad, he would (before the Sun should be able to offend him) withdraw himself home to his house.  
But having one day amongst the rest enlarged his Walk, and entertained himself longer than he was wont to do, in a pleasant garden, near adjoining to the River Pisuerga, recreating himself in beholding the variety of the Walks, the beautiful Flowers, the delicate Arbours, the shady Trees, and savoury fruits, the heat entered in so far, before he was aware of it, that what out of his fear of not returning back with conveniency, and the content that he took in this his sweet and delightful recreation, he was resolved to remain there, and to take his full pleasure of that place, until such time of the evening, as the heats should be overpassed.  
And whilst his other servants were busy in providing all things necessary for his dinner, that he might the better in the mean while pass away the time, he entreated two Gentlemen, that accompanied him thither, the one Don Lewis de Castro; and the other, Don Rodrigo de Montaluo, that each of them would tell him some Love-story, whose success had been full of dangers, and full of cares, as none could be greater. For, he very well knew, that these two Gentlemen were the only Gallants then in Court, and great Lovers of Ladies, being both of them, besides Noble in their Name and Blood, discreet, valiant, active in their persons, of fair both feature and behaviour, curious in their clothes, witty in their jests, un-offensively pleasant; in a word, so generally well qualified, and so adorned with all those ornaments, that might grace either their speech, or their actions, that they were very well able to give him that satisfaction upon this subject, as more could not be desired. And the better to animate them on he promised, in reward, a rich Diamond Ring, that he then wore upon his finger, to him, whose tale, for the strangeness of the success, should best deserve it. Don Lewis de Castro was first to begin, and thus he proceeded:  
It may be (my Lord Constable) that other Lovers, in the recounting of their misfortunes, go painting and setting of them forth, with feigned sorrows, Hyperbolical amplifications, such delicacy of phrase, and tenderness of words, to work compassion; that with the smoothness of their stile, and the meltingnesse of their language, they move many to pity; and of these in this kind much hath been written. But that really and truly stripped naked of all kind of dressing, and the neat clothing of eloquence, there should happen in these present times a business of the like nature, as is mine, that I have now in hand, is a thing impossible. For it is one of the strangest, and the most to be wondered at, of all that ever I yet read, or heard of. And because your Excellency is to be my judge in this case, I am very well persuaded you will acknowledge as much, when you know my sufferings.  
I loved a certain Lady of this Kingdom, that was a Virgin, and ful-filled 
Don Lewis de Castro his Love-story.  with all those laudable and noble qualities, which might be found in any other who-soever; being as fair and beautiful, as she was discreet and honest: whereof, (and much more than I will now speak,) I make Don Rodrigo de Montaluo here present, my Witness; as the only friend, that bore me company, and was thoroughly acquainted with all that which passed between us; I served her many, (and those the best part of my years) with that punctuality and secrecy, that there was never any the least notice taken of it, yet still observing her with that diligence, as the like was never known; and endeavouring always to give her all those contents, which she could possibly desire from me. For her I ran at the Ring, and ever made myself one, at the ●…uego de toros, y canas, maintained Attorneys, and Tilt, ordained Royal Feasts, and Masks; and what not? And for to quit all suspicion, and to carry the business so handsomely, that none might find me out, and discover this my love; nay, that they might not have any the least presumption thereof; at all these great & solemn meetings, my eyes were never placed upon her, but some other of the Ladies that were there, though she notwithstanding did really and truly know, that those of my soul were never off on her, but still waited upon her, and that she was the sole Mistress of my heart, and that for her sake only, and none but hers, I invented all these honourable pleasures, and delightful intertainments for her.  
Upon these kind of Feasts and Sports, and other the like occasions, directed only to this end, I spent so much, that I wasted and consumed a great deal of wealth, letting my money fly the faster, in hope it might make her come the sooner; and selling away my possessions, that I might compass the possessing of her; which was to me a treasure of more worth than all the world besides.  
My father (it is well known) left me wonderful rich, both in goods, and in lands, but in short, I sent it packing; and past away one thing after another, till in the end I became so poor, that your Lordship's favour is the only prop that doth uphold me, without the which I must have fall'n. And though this (I must tell you) be none of the least griefs, to see a Gentleman of such parts and qualities as myself, to be outed of all that he has, to become so poor and needy, that necessity must tie him to serve, who was wont heretofore to be served; (howbeit, I acknowledge it a happiness unto me, that I am your Lordship's servant.) Though I must confess withal, they are the happier men, and the more beholding to fortune, who 
A free c●…tented 〈◊〉 the best.  lead a quiet and secure life, free from other men's commands, not beating their brains, nor breaking their sleeps, in seeking means, how to creep into this man's favour, or to screw himself into that, or t'other Lords good grace and opinion.  
But of all my misfortunes, the greatest that ever befell me▪ and which ●…its closest to my heart, and doth fret the very soul of me, and fill it with anguish, was, That my Mistress having entertained me with false hopes, and vain promises, vowing, that she would never bestow her favours upon any other, but that in recompense of my constant love▪ she would be married unto me, whereunto she plighted me her faith and troth. But whether these were the words of a woman, or the works of my short fortunes; now when she saw my means were spent, and myself grown poor, unmindful of all those in dearements, vows and protestations that had passed between us, she shook off that hand of hers from mine, to whom she had first given it, and gave it to another, and forsaking me, married him; failing (false as she was) in her faith, and quality: for scorning my poor condition, and not esteeming those my other good natural parts, she made choice of those goods of fortune, taking a Husband far unequal to herself; for, as he exceeded in wealth, so he did in years. But such is the force of money, that it can supply all defects, and drive unequal matches, to draw in one yoke.  
Thus have I briefly discoursed unto your Lordship touching my love, showing you how happy the beginning was, and how disastrous the end. And although (that I might not weary and tire out your Lordship, I have been so brief, that the shortness of my Discourse may seem to lessen my misfortunes, and the miseries that I then endured;) yet I presume, your Lordship's discretion will supply that want, and fully conceive what, and how great they were; As also take into your consideration, how many troubles they have suffered, and how many perils they daily run thorough, who wing their thoughts with ●…uch highflying feathers, and who use such great diligence and secrecy in the carriage of their love, to the end that nothing on their part should be wanting, which they thought belonged to their duty, in that behalf. Which myself had special care of.  
I do not think that either Don Rodrigo, or any other Gentleman whatsoever can instance in a success of more misfortune than this of mine; for that loving her with that firmness and constancy, (as I did) and serving her with that love and faithfulness, (as none possibly could be more;) I lost my time, I lost my means, and last of all (to make the roll of my miseries the fuller) I lost my Mistress. Only there is left unto me by fortune, (in exchange of these my many mischances) the receiving of this Ring, by way of reward.  
And here Don Lewis made an end of his amorous discourses, and Don Rodrigo de Montaluo entered upon his, in manner following:  
The Ring (Don Lewis) is none of yours, you have lost it, and I ought of right to have it. And turning himself towards the Constable, he thus went on in his speech:  
Most noble Sir, Though I confess that to be true, which Don Lewis hath delivered unto your Lordship, for that I was an eyewitness of all this business, in regard of that great love and friendship, which was ever between us; yet now at this present, he hath no reason to pretend the Diamond; for if he would but free himself of passion, and put on temperate consideration of the panssages in this his love, and that he and I might but change places, I do assure myself, that he would judge this cause in my favour, and give sentence against himself. But being that he is now blinded so with passion, that he can not discern things with indifferency; your Excellency may be pleased to judge first of his Love, and afterwards to censure the bad success of mine: which shall take its beginning from the end of his, which your Excellency hath already heard him recount. And thus (may it please you to give me the hearing) did things pass.  
It is not long ago, that he and I went walking abroad near to this River side, where now we are, talking and discoursing of some things far out of the reach of our hopes; when unlooked for, there came to Don Lewis, an ancient servant belonging to this Gentlewoman his Mistress, from whom he secretly delivered him a Letter. Which he having opened, and read it over, when he had done, he gave it me, that I likewise might peruse it. Which I did again and again, wondering very much at the Contents thereof. For which cause, (as also having a reasonable good memory,) I carried it all away; which speaketh after this manner:  
Dear Sir, you have little reason to accuse me of ingratitude, only because it seems unto you, that you have some just cause so to do. For it is not possible that any one should forget (as you have thought of me) him, whom he truly loves. And since I know mine own Obligation, and your constancy, I would have you likewise to understand (though perhaps you will not acknowledge so much) that I neither now do, or have heretofore committed any fault against you. And that my Actions did not correspond with your deserts, the reason was, because they could not stand with that Decorum, which was due to my Mayden-state, and the danger that might ensue thereupon. My Marriage with you (which I desired more, than I did mine own life) the obedience of a Daughter did disturb, and the Commands and earnest importunities of my Parents, who were violently carried away, moved thereunto by vain interest, and the Title of a Countess, which I hold against my will, since they did force me to yield my body unto him, to whom I could never surrender my soul, being in condition and years so contrary unto me, I have been yours, I am yours, and shall be yours all the days of my life. I shall give you to understand, that the Count my Husband is to undertake a long journey; hasten hit her unto me as soon as you 〈◊〉, and bring no other person along with you save your friend Don Rodrigo. And when you shall come to this Town, you shall find in a hermitage adjoining thereunto, order given you for that, which you are to do. Love me with all your heart (as you were wont) and as I do you. And live you as happily, as I wish you; Concluding my Letter with dear embracements, which attend your coming.  
These were the Contents of the Letter; which Don Lewis having well seen and considered, did expect nothing less, than what was therein contained, which was the only thing he wished and desired above all other happiness in this world. So that if I would, yet I should not be able to express unto you, those amorous passions that he then felt. He read it over and over, dwelling upon every word and syllable of this Letter. He looked upon every line, more than once or twice, weighed them as a man would weigh gold; and when he had balanced them in his judgement, and found they were not light, but bare their full poise, putting them to his mouth, he kissed them a thousand and a thousand times over. He first looked earnestly on the Letter, then on the bearer, and myself, as if he stood expecting that we should speak our minds, and with a loud voice proclaim the certainty of this his promised good, and the great content that he took in this fortunate, but unexpected news. For as yet he doubted thereof: but at last, when he had recollected his spirits, which had been all this while a woolgathering, with somewhat a troubled, but more cheerful countenance, he said unto me, What is this (Don Rodrigo) that we see? Am I out of my wits? Or is this a dream? Art thou sure, that it is thee and I, that have read this Letter? Is this happily the Countess' Letter, this her own hand? and that, her old Servant? Doth my judgement peradventure fail me? Or, as an afflicted Lover, growing on to desperation, do I feign imaginations to myself, to deceive my fantasy?  
After that he had thus continued a while, driven to and fro with these distractions, as a Boat that waves this way and that way, having the tide with it, but the wind against it; I assured him, that these were not illusions, or idle apparitions, but things really true, and that carried along with them assured hopes of recovering and enjoying his lost jewel. And thereupon I heartened him on, that he should hasten his departure with all possible speed, that he might comply with that, which his Mistress had given him in charge. This was presently put in execution; for we straight took horse, and away we went. And when we came to the hermitage, we found therein a very grave and reverend Dame, who, for that she had notice given her before hand, of the day and hour that we were to come thither, stayed there, expecting of our coming.  
Now, when she knew that we were the men she looked for, she delivered us a Message, the effect whereof was this; That her Lord, the Conde, was gone forth upon his journey, but was now newly returned, by reason of a certain indisposition of body that seized on him upon the way: But entreated us notwithstanding, that we would have the patience to stay there, till she went to the Palace, to acquaint her Lady the Countess, of our coming▪ She went; we stayed; I much amazed, and Don Lewis quite out of heart: I for those difficulties, which might offer themselves; He in considering his cross fortune, which did never leave off to persecute him.  
Now, while this good woman was gone upon her errand, in the mean while, till she should make her return, we ran over many stories, and I know not what idle tales and discourses▪ which being of different subjects, are not fit to be inter-serted with this that we have now in hand.  
Well, about eleven a clock at night, she came back a gain unto us, and told us, we must follow her. We did so. The darkness of the night did much befriend us, so that by this good help, she brought us unseen, and with much secrecy, into a Lodging in the Palace, where we no sooner were, but the Countess comes forth, and receives us with extraordinary tokens of joy and gladness. And after that some few ceremonies were ended, and that the Para-bienes had passed to and fro of this long desired interview, which Compliments were very short and brief, the Countess said unto me, Don Rodrigo; the time, that is now offered unto us, to enjoy this fair occasion, you, in your own discretion may judge, how soon it will be gone. You know likewise the obligation of true friendship, and the firm affection, which you have always made show to bear unto Don Lewis: but say, this should fail (which I no way misdoubt,) yet for my sake, who beg it at your hands, your are bound in courtesy to grant me my request. You have already understood, how the Count my husband not finding himself half well, returned (being well advanced on his way) back from his journey, who came home so weary, that he presently got him to bed, where I have left him fast asleep. But because it may so fall-out, that in turning or waking, he should stretch out a leg or an arm, towards that side of the bed where I lie, and should find my place empty, and no body there, it must be a great deal of danger, that I must run, besides the great scandal, that would grow thereby to the house, that therefore, whilst your friend Don Lewis and myself shall entertain the time in talk, (which at the most shall be but some quarter of an hour, or thereabouts,) you would be pleased to go lie down in my place, and remain there in bed, that I may in the meanwhile abide the safer here. And I will assure you on my honest word, that you shall not thereby incur any danger. For besides that the Count is old, and that he never wakes a-nights, until it be broad day, and doth seldom or never turn above once, and then presently fall asleep again; He is so tired with his journey, and of that indisposition of body at this present, that there is no fear to be had, that he will so much as but offer to stir, or move himself at all. But say he should, and that he should turn and touch you, for the foresaid reasons, he will not dream of any bodies being there but myself.  
God he knows (and your Excellency may conceive) how much it troubled me, that the Countess should put me upon such a perilous piece of service. But because the actions of cowardice are so foul in themselves, and so ill-beseeming a Gentleman, it seemed unto me, that if I should now fly off, and refuse to undergo this business, I should not give satisfaction either to mine own Honour, or my friend's Love, or the Countess' request, I told her, I would very willingly, and with all my heart do her this service: but withal, did very earnestly entreat them, that they would not stay too long in the entertaining of their loves, seeing they were not ignorant of the danger, where-into for their sakes I did thus voluntarily thrust myself. They promised, nay swore unto me, that they would not; and that at the most she would not tarry away above half an hour.  
The Countess put me into a night-dressing, and a Smock: and when I had put off all my clothes, she led me along to her Withdrawing chamber, and afterwards made me to lie down in her bed. There was no light at all in the Chamber, all was as dark as hell, and in a still silence. I softly laid myself down upon the very edge and brim, as it were of the bed, as far from the Count, as I possibly could devose, and in that manner, I remained there, not a quarter, or half part of an hour, but five good long hours and more, till it was break of day.  
Now let every man consider and think with himself, in what a poor case I was, being in such a place as this, and at such a time; with what a deal of care that I might not be known, and with what a deal of fear, lest this deceit should be discovered, and did least of all think on that, which did most concern me, which could be no less than death, if the Count should chance to awake. For in regard that I went in thither naked, and unarmed, I must fight it out with my fists only, and try how the strength of my arms would help me; and admit I should have struggled with the Count, and had the fortune to escape his hands, yet could I not those of the servants of his house, because I knew not how, nor which way to order my flight.  
But these were not all the griefs I then endured, they went on a little farther. For Don Lewis and the Countess, did laugh and talk so loud, that I might hear every word almost that they said, as I lay in the bed, wherewith my fear was much increased lest happily their dis-composed carriage might chance to awaken the Count; and it did mightily vex me, and almost mad me, that I could not call unto them to keep less noise, seeing they would not yet break company, it grieving me to the very soul, that they should seem as forgetful of themselves, as they were of me. This made me to bite my finger's ends for very anger; as also, that I durst not for mine ears stir a ●…ot from the place where I lay for fear of spotting mine honour; and less did I dare to call unto them, for fear of waking the Count  
After all these linger, and fearful passages, when they saw that day was now so nigh, they came both of them laughing hand in hand to the bed's side, with a light in their hand▪ (I being frighted almost out of my little wits) where they sportingly frisked and skipped about me, making a great noise, as well with their tongues, as their feet.  
Then I began to imagine with myself, that through too much content, they had both run mad. So that now, I was as sorry for their misfortune, as mine own; for that the infamy and punishment was like to be general, and to light upon us all, not permitting any to escape; upon them, for offending; upon me, for consenting. I was in that pitiful taking, that within a very little space, I had a thousand imaginations in my head, but not one that could do me any good, or stand me in stead.  
And whilst I was thus puzzled, in the midst of my greatest conflict, they drew nearer to the bed itself; and the Countess drawing the Curtain, that we might now plainly see one another, than was I quite out of my senses; insomuch that I would have fain fled away, had I well known whither: but I quickly came to myself again. For I, who had hitherto thought, that I had the Count lying by me; the Countess lifting up the clothes of the bed, cleared that error, and gave me to understand, that it was not he, but the Countess' Sister, a pure Virgin, yet as fair as Venus. Whereat, as likewise the jest, (which I now perceived they had put upon me) I was so ashamed, and dashed out of countenance, that for my life I was not able to speak a word, nor knew not what in the world to do, but to rise up in my smock (for in that case was I then) and to get me out to look my clothes; so that my fear before was not half so much, as my shame was now. Let your Excellency therefore be pleased now to consider into what danger I did put myself, and then to give your judgement, which of us two doth best deserve the Ring.  
The Constable, laughing heartily hereat, said in the end, That Don Lewis had no reason to complain of his Love; seeing, though late, and with a great deal of cost and trouble, yet at length he had obtained his desire; so that he could not be a deserver of this promised reward. And Don Rodrigo, as little; for that he was not in any danger by sleeping with the Count; howbeit, the jest they had put upon him, was a witty and a good one. And therefore his Sentence was this, that neither of them deserved the Diamond; yet, taking it off from his finger, he consigned it to Don Rodrigo, with condition that he should send it as a token to this Gentlewoman, by whose side he lay; for that she only had incurred the danger, and had also run the hazard of her honour, if she had been known what she was.  
With this, they gave an end to their Love-discourses, they all remaining very well satisfied. And it being afterwards discussed, whether the Constable's Sentence were discreet and just; all the Courtiers highly commended it. And so every man's businesses, calling some one way, some another; this conversation was broken up, and taking their leave of my Lord Ambassador, they went whither their occasions called them.   

CHAPTER V.  
A Roman Matron, not knowing how to free herself (without suffering in her Honour) from the persuasions of Guzman de Alfarache, who solicited her in his Lord's behalf, the French Ambassador, put a jest upon him, which was the occasion of a second disgrace that afterwards befell him.  
THey that write of Lightning, report, (and we see the same confirmed by experience,) that so great is its 
The nature of Lightning.  pride, that scorning the weaker, it works its effects on the strongest. It breaks the steely hardness of the Sword, and leaves the scabbard whole: it splits in sunder, and rendeth up by the roots the strong and sturdy Oak; and not once toucheth the feeble and yielding Cane. It overturnes the tops of your highest Towers, and leveleth your stately buildings with the ground; and pardoneth your poor Shepherd's humble Cottage, that is made of ill composed twigs. It killeth your biggest beasts, and cracketh man, as if he were but Potter's Clay in pieces; it bruiseth and breaketh the bones, and leaves the clothes untouched; it melteth Silver, Gold, Metal, and Money, and yet hurts not the Purse wherein it is put. And albeit, it be of this proud nature and haughty condition, yet is its force broken, in its coming to ground. This only is that, which makes its resistance against it. And therefore, in such tempestuous times, those that do fear its terrible effects, do use to get themselves into Caves, or to hide themselves deep under ground, because that they know, they are there safe and free from danger.  
The violence of Youth is such, that we may truly compare it unto Lightning; for it never bends its force against things that are fragile, soft, 
The violence of youth, compared unto Lightning.  and gentle; but doth commonly aspire to things of greatest difficulty, and such as are beyond all reason of achievement; it observeth no Law; it excuseth no kind of Vice; it is a Horse that runs on in his Career, without 
The defects and various effects of youth.  an eye to its way, or once thinking on the place, or the end, where he is to take up himself, and make his stop. It always follows its own fury; and like an untamed Colt, will not suffer himself to be saddled by reason; and without it, disturbs both himself and others, not enduring any burden, be it never so light: In such sort it flies out, that it will not (no though you let it have its own will) be at quiet with itself. And yet this being so furious a beast, as we have here set forth unto you, it is only corrected by humility; this (and nothing but this) tames and keeps it in order. This is that earth, against which its force cannot prevail; this that Dock, that drives out the Nettle; and this that Fort, where it finds its safety. Insomuch, that there is not any good to be hoped from that young man, who shall not be humble. For that youth in itself is the entrance to evil, and the door that opens unto sin.  
I was wantonly bred up, suffered too much to have mine own will: I 
I●… 〈◊〉, the cause of all Vice.  would not endure reproof, much less correction. And for that Wisdom is the Daughter of Experience, which is gotten by the trans-cursion of Time, it was not much, that I should err as being a Youth. But that having befallen me (which you heard before) in the love that I made at Malagon, 
a See the first Part.  and Toledo: And being that I should, like the Dog which is scalded with hot, fear also cold water; after all these fair warnings, it may 
He is a fool, that makes 〈◊〉 a prey to Women.  seem somewhat strange, you will say, that I should give any more credit unto women, and that I should suffer myself to be taken anew in their snares. That I should be such an Ass, as not to know, by my many the like experiences, that they always go subtly to work with us, and deal deceitfully; which must either be imputed to our too much simplicity, or must otherwise be attributed to the intemperate passion of our appetite. And would to God this foolishness of mine might here make its stop, and here in this Port set up my Plus ultra, by erecting the pillars of my woeful proofs, and often skarrings, without (as you shall see hereafter) my frequent fall into the like weaknesses; being unable to make my vaunt, that I had once got of them by the hand, and made my party good with them. But because he that loves, doth always make a free donation to the party, whom he loveth, of his will, and of his senses, it is no marvel, if being stripped of them, multiplying my errors, I commit a thousand fooleries.  
My Lord Ambassador fell in love with a principal Gentlewoman, nobly descended, whose name was Fabia; her husband, a Gentleman of Rome; before 
A story of the French Ambassadors love.  whose house I did often use to walk; whereof, no small notice was taken, and he himself began to conceive some suspicion of me, though without any just cause; for the for her part never gave consent thereunto. But because every man may love, protest, and run his head, if he will, against a Wall, and none shall hinder him; my Master did that, which his passion did dictate unto him, and she, that which was befitting both her own, and her husband's honour.  
True it is, that we were not so blind, that we could not see thorough the 
Proverb.  holes of a 
a No estavamos tan çiegoes, que dexassemos de ver por la tela de un çedaço. The greatest enemies, that a fair woman hath.  siue; for although we were deprived of the clearer kind of light, yet we had some glimpse and glimmering thereof, though it were but little. Her husband was old, poor, and ill accoutred; three strong and powerful enemies against a woman, that was young fair, and well brought up. For these reasons, and by the help of a Maid of hers (which had been a Virgin heretofore) but was now my sweetheart, and mine own dear Love, I was verily persuaded, what by the means that she, and what by those, that myself should use, as also by making benefit of the foresaid occasions, we should easily get the game. But who, (save such an unlucky and unfortunate Rogue, as myself) could have lost so fair a set, having such store of sound Trumps, and other good Cards in my hand? But I had wonderful crosse-Carding, and every trick that I played, fell out to the worst; so that, No es todo façil, quant o lo pareçe; A man may be deceived, when he thinks 
Proverb.  himself most sure. Virtue will trip up the heels of Vice, and win the Goal away from him, play he never so cunningly; Nor is there any thing in the world, that can make a virtuous woman to spot her honour.  
When this Gentlewoman understood, what had passed betwixt myself and her servant, she began to devose with herself, how she might be revenged on us both, without any hurt to herself, but as much prejudice as might be, both to my person, and the plot that was laid between us, for the effecting of my Lords desires. And this she did the rather. for that she saw, that her waiting-Gentlewoman, for my sake, did so earnestly solicit this cause, and that for my interest, and to do me a pleasure, she did follow this business with all care and diligence, taking her fit times to put her often in mind thereof, not suffering a Card to pass without a Vic, and sometimes making 
The wickedness of some servants.  many false ones, using many other tricks, as she was well skilled in them, and knew handsomely how to put them home: Insomuch, that when this honourable Matron saw, she could not be in quiet for her, but was thus hardly set upon in her own house, and barked at abroad in the street by a company of malicious mouths, she made no Vociferations, nor Outcries, no squeamish replies, no cunning impostures, which some women use to do, for to qualify their honesty, that under that shield, they may ever after the more safely offend. For, an honest woman will, by honest means, manage her affairs; not beating the air with her clapper, nor ringing out the bell that hangs in her mouth, so loud, that all men may hear the sound thereof, and censure her accordingly, and give every one occasion thereby to construe her Actions, as they list themselves. For in regard the good are the fewest, the most do judge amiss: And the reason of this ill is, because they themselves be ill. And this common voice choketh a good name, as your Tares do come.  
Now, as this Gentlewoman was a Roman, so did she perform a Roman Act. She knowing, that we went about to work her overthrow, she wisely 
The discreet carriage of a woman tempted to ●…dnesse.  sought to prevent it, feigning herself to be somewhat touched with Love's passion, and that she was now upon the point of yielding, if not wholly overcome.  
One day, when as her Maid was making of her ready, and was instant with her in this business, looking upon her with a smiling and cheerful countenance, she said unto her, Nicoleta, (for so was she called) I assure thee, that if thou hadst not wrought upon me, using so many strange inventions, and hadst not spent so many elaborate and well studied words in this suit of thine, thou hadst e'er this made that will of mine to yield, which hath hitherto stood out so long. For I wish well unto Guzman, and approve his discreet proceeding in this business. Besides, his Master is of that merit, that any woman whatsoever, be she of never so honourable quality, without being so much solicited, as I have been, aught to embrace his love and friendship, and offer her service unto him. But as thou thyself both knowest, and seest, I do not know how it will be possible, that this our Treaty shall be secure from scandalous tongues, being that now upon no just cause given, and I for my part having as yet yielded no consent unto that, which perhaps I so much desire, that is whispered already in every corner, nay thorough all Rome, which neither in mine own house, nor with thee, (which canst only be the instrument of our pleasures) did I ever yet communicate. And since it is now come to this pass, that the popular voice runneth on with so great liberty, and that I am not able any longer to hold out in withstanding the love of this noble Gentleman, all that I will entreat at thy hands, is; that thou wilt dispose and order it, with the greatest secrecy that may be. Speak therefore to Guzman, that he wait and attend hereabouts for some few nights, for I will find opportunity some one night or other, to give him entrance, that I may see him, and talk with him concerning the carriage of our loves.  
Nicoleta fell down upon her knees to the ground, not knowing, which she should kiss first, her feet or her hands, with a face set all on fire with too much joy: for a great while together, she never left giving of her thanks, qualifying the easiness of effecting it, and disgracefully laying open the faults of her old Master. Then did she reduce unto her remembrance those former distastes, which she had received from him; in what wretched estate, through his misery, she lived in; his base kind of carriage, and what dry foddering he did give her, and all, that she might encourage her the more to go bravely on in this her resolution, which she did simply believe, she had now entered into.  
Hereupon she came forthwith flying unto me, flinging her arms abroad, and strongly twining them about my neck, she clasped me as hard as she could for her life, demanding 
a A reward for good news.  Albriçias at my hands. Which when she had received, she would relate unto me what had passed between her and her Mistress. I took her by the hand, leading her along with me, (as those that carry with them the spoils and trophies of some famous victory) into my Master's withdrawing Chamber, where, with a great deal of joy we celebrate this gladsome news; plotting and contriving with ourselves touching the hour, how and where I might best find entrance to speak with Fabia. And my Master giving to Nicoleta a little Purse which he had in his Pocket, crammed with Spanish Pistolets, she made as if she were unwilling to take them of him, but did not all this while close her fist, nor pull back her hand, but out of modesty held it between forward and backward like a Physician, when he is offered more than his fees, and with a jocund smile, gave him thanks for this his courteous liberality; and with this, she took her leave both of him and me. But my Master continued with me, rendering me an account of his love, and I giving him the Para-bien thereof, in which kind of discourse, and the like, we spent all that Evening. And when it was night, at the appointed hour, I took up my standing, gave the watchword, and made such signs, as were ordered between us, but neither that night, nor some three or four more following, could this agreement made between us, take effect.  
One day amongst the rest, there happened to fall a small, but withal a shrewd driving rain, wherein at my wont hour I was to make my accustomed 
Proverb.  walk, being dabbled (as they say) up 
a Con lodos, hasta la cinta.  to the girdle. I came thither reasonable well wet, the night being very dark, which suited not amiss with my fortunes. It was my hap (but would to God it had never happened) to have the end of my desires. And for that, in things of interest, and matters that concern our pleasure and content, it importeth much, to cast off all fear, and to undergo all difficulties with a daring resolution, I did show more courage at that time, then became discretion, in that I was so forward to come to the Call, beating my forehead against the Walls and corners of the house, when the rain poured down on my head from heaven, and my feet stood up to the ankles in dirt. As soon as I had given the sign, it was known who was there, yet notwithstanding they made me to wait a good while in the rain, till I was so thorow-wet, that the water that came in at my Pole, dropped out at my knees, and went guttring down into my shoes: and then at last, after I had been a long time in this cold bath, they called unto me, and willed me to have the patience to stay yet a little longer.  
In the end, when all my clothes and myself were dung-wet, and that I had not a dry thread about me, I might perceive the door to open very softly, and Nicoleta to call unto me. And then (me thought) that very breath which came from that voice, brought that comfortable heat with it, that I was thorow-drie all over on the sudden. Now did I no more think on my forepassed troubles, being cheered up with the sight of the (a) Fregonçilla 
(b) A Maid servant, that washes and starches, and does the like services of keeping all things clean. Muget de buen fregado. La dishonesta que se refriega con todos. Covarrwias. p. 413.  of my soul, and the comfortable hope of enjoying the beloved Fabia. Nicoleta and I exchanged but a few words; for she had scarce bid me welcome, when lo, her Mistress came down, and calling to her servant, said; Do you hear (Nicoleta?) Get you up, and see what your Master is a doing, and if he chance to ask for me, come and call me, whilst I in the meanwhile stay talking here with Senor Guzman.  
Now, all this interim we were in the dark, so that we could scarce discern one another, and if we did, it was as much as possibly we could do. Then did she begin to question me concerning my health, and how it was with me, as if she had seemed to wish very well unto me, or as if my welfare had been a matter of importance, and much to her contentment. I replied unto her with the like demand. That compliment performed, I delivered her a large message from my Master, in acknowledgement of those many thanks which he did owe unto her, for the undeserved favours which she had vouchsafed to show unto him, and how great a servant he was of hers, enlarging this Theme with an elegant Oration, which I had studied of purpose only to this end. But before I was come to the conclusion thereof, and when I was in the greatest force of this Argument, and my words began to gather strength for the gaining of her good will, I could not fasten her farther attention, nor like Wax, work her as I would; because she seeming to be amazed and startled with some sudden perturbation, abruptly said unto me:  
Senor Guzman, as you love my life, let me entreat you to hold me excused; for with a conceived fear, that at this present instant hath seized 
Guzman notably mocked by Fabia: And in what manner.  upon me, me thinks, every body's eye is upon me, all in the house watch and observe me. And therefore for God's sake, let me entreat you to enter in here this way, and there right over against you, you shall find a lodging Chamber, get you quickly into that, and tarry there till I have given a turn or two about the house, to see if the coast be clear, and all my people safe, and I shall presently return again unto you; but I pray have an especial care in the mean while, that you stand still, and make not any the least noise in the world. I gave credit unto her, and went strait on as she had directed me, and thinking that I had gone athwart a little open entry, making more haste then good speed, I lighted ere I was aware, into a huge 
The Spanish word, is patio. la parte de la casa des cubierta. Covarru. verb. Patio.  beastly Hog-sty, that stood in a filthy dirty Court, where I had no sooner gone some two or three steps, but I stumbled (through too much haste) upon a great dung mixen, and fell with my head just against the wall, giving myself such a sound knock, that I lay there for a while senseless. But with that little life that was left me, by little and little I came to myself again, and scrambling up as well as I could, I went groping along the walls with my hands (as children do that play at Blindman-buff) to see if I could find out this appointed Chamber: but I could find no other outlet, save that whereby I had made my entrance. I rounded it once again, imagining with myself, that by reason of my new received blow, I could not haply meet with it so upon the sudden.  
And wand'ring thus up and down this Maze, it was my hap to light upon a little narrow Lane, as it were, whereat there was no going forth, having a house of Office at the end of it, ill covered, and that not wholly neither overhead, where was only the t'one half of an old broken great Pitcher, which was full of Ordure, being fixed fast to the ground, and beastly berayed round about, yielding no very sweet sent, whereby I began to conjecture the danger I was in, and to consider with myself the many misfortunes that had befallen me.  
Well, when I saw how the world went, I sought to get out where I came in: but I found the door was shut fast upon me, and that there was no hope of getting forth. It reigned extremely, and showered down so fast upon me, that I was forced to shelter myself under that poor miserable old ruinous open, I cannot tell whether I should term it rather Hovel, than House, standing up to the knees in dirt, whose perfume was none of the pleasing.  
There did I pass over the remainder of that night, which was far worse, then that I endured at Toledo, and of no less peril to my person, then 
These two misfortunes of his are mentioned in the first Part.  that which I was put to in the house of the proud Genoves, my kinsman, Nor was it only the falling of the rain, that did now afflict me, which came not drizzling or mizling down upon me; but with a full and open gutter, and when at least, with drops as big as Pease. But I began to think with myself what should become of me; for I could not but imagine, that she that had made that Mousetrap for me overnight, would the next morning deliver me over to the Cat.  
After this conceit had run a while in my head, I entered into other discourses, wherewith I might comfort myself, saying; Free me (O God) from the stormy blustering Northern winds of this tempestuous night, and give me leave to escape with life till it be day, that when the Master of the Ship shall find me here, all that I will say unto him, shall be, that his Maid brought me hither, and that I am her husband. For it would be the lesser harm unto me of the two, to be married unto her, then to see my bones marred with torment, to make me to confess what I made there; and I would rather seek to content them with this answer, then that they should kill me, and bury me afterwards in this stinking Churchyard, and so end my life in this miserable manner.  
Thus I went beating my brai●…es about, discussing to and fro, what would be the issue in the end of this business; when lo, anon after two of the clock in the morning; I perceived that the door was opened; wherewith all the misery that I had suffered, was turned into joy; and flowers of comfort, thinking that Fabia was now returned. But when I came to the door, and found it unlocked, and no body living thereabouts, I began to be more afraid than I was before, and my heart began to misgive me, conceiving, that behind some wall or door of the house, they stayed waiting for my coming forth, that they might with more ease and safety rid me of life. I unsheathed my sword, and taking that in one hand, and my Dagger in the other, I went by little and little, taking notice (by that poor little morning's light) of all those steps which I had trod (which, were not many, nor very hard to be hit again) by which I entered. So that, with more fear, than shame, I got at last to the street door, which I likewise found was open.  
When I had once set my feet upon the threshold, I opened my eyes, and then plainly perceived, that what had already past, was in punishment of my overboldness; and albeit this trick that had been put upon me, was not so easy to be digested, yet this jest might have fall'n out far worse. I comforted myself as well as I could, looked into my error, & acknowledged my fault; and champing upon these things, as I walked along the streets, I came at last home to our own house, and opening my Chamber door, I put off my clothes, and got me in between the Blankets to recover some heat, which through the waters and the winds I had lost.  
In this manner did I lie, till it was about ten a clock in the morning, tumbling and tossing, not being able for very shame to fall asleep, thinking and devising with myself, what answer I should make unto my Master. For if I should deal plainly and truly with him, and acquaint him with the whole passage of this business, it would be a great affront unto me, and that I should be played upon every moment with whole Volleys of jests, and move even the very children of the street to scoff and laugh at me. And 
Proverb.  to deny it, and entertain his Lordship with vain and idle hopes, me thought that likewise was not fitting. For Nicoleta had already recovered her Albriçias, and was well rewarded for her good news; and therefore this might seem unto him to be a mere invention to defeat him of his money. 
a Todo lo veo matas, y por rozar. Del negoçio, que no esta bien compuesto, y tiene muchos inconuenientes. Covarru. verb. Ma●…a.  Todos eran matas, por rozar. All the fat I saw, was in the fire; and that this business did not go on well and handsomely, but had many inconveniences in it; it went ill on the one side, and worse on the other. Which way so ever I sought to wind me, was but a 
b Proverb. Saltar de la sarten, y dare en las brasas.  leaping out of the Frying Pan into the fire.  
And whilst I was thus musing with myself, how I might invent some means to set all right, one of the servants of the house came knocking at my door, and told me, that my Lord would have me come to him. O wretched and unfortunate man that I am (said I to myself) what shall I do? For they have now found me with my 
c Prou. Traer las manos en la masa. Andar metido en algun negocio.  finger in the Cream-pot; they have taken me in the manner, the theft is discovered, I am put to my shifts, and must answer for myself as well as I can. Coragio then (quoth I) Coragio, Guzman! When were thy spirits wont to fail thee in this manner? When wert thou ever as yet put to that plunge, from which at length thou didst not fairly come off? The Sun is as yet clouded; and Time will discover the true path. And who took thee by night out of the yard, will bring thee as well out of my Lords withdrawing room.  
Well, I got me up, shifted my clothes, and put on a fresh suit, the best that I had; and being then as fine and as gallant, as if no such disaster had happened unto me; I hide me up unto my Lord, who expected my coming, and had no sooner seen me●…, but presently asked me, how the world went, and how chanced it, that I had no sooner come to give an account of what had passed betwixt Fabia, and myself? I told him; That they made me stay waiting in the street until it was midnight, expecting a fair birth of this business, but it proved in the end to be a shitten-arsed Girl; so that I was dismissed with a non licet; telling me, that she could not possibly either speak with me, or open the door.  
I also then signified unto him, that I would go and lie down a while upon my bed, to see if I could take some rest, for I did not find myself half well. He gave me leave so to do. Where-upon, I went to my Chamber, put off my clothes, got me to bed, and there fell to my victuals, where I remained till it was almost night, hatching a thousand conceits in my head, wasting my wits; and Limbeking my brains, without drawing any juice or substance thence at all. And because, what in regard of my rage and anger, as also the sundry thoughts and imaginations that troubled my mind, I was not able to take any rest on either side, but lay tumbling from t'one to tother; If I lay on my back, I straightway waxed weary; if I sat up in my bed, my Hips were too feeble to bear up my body. Whereupon, I resolved with myself to rise. And I had no sooner taken my clothes into my hands, and put my feet out of my bed, but one of the Grooms of the Stable came into my Chamber, and told me; Senor Guzman; There are some pretty Wenches beneath at the stair's foot which inquire for you, and stay waiting your coming in the Portall within the gate. Apocks upon them, quoth I: What have I to do with them? The Devil take them for me. Go down, and either bid them go to the Stews, or else tell them, that I am not within. For I imagined with myself, that all Rome by this time had rung of my disgrace, and that these were some roguish harlotries, that came to laugh and scoff at me, and to make themselves merry with my misfortunes. I was very jealous, that they came of purpose to play the Wags with me, and therefore willed him to dismiss them: and so they went their ways.  
That night my Master willed me to continue my wont Station. I told him, that I found myself not half well; whereupon he advised me to get me betimes to my lodging, and that I should call for any thing that I wanted; and if need were, he would send a Physician unto me. I kissed his hands, thanking him in the best fashion I could, for this his great favour and love towards me; and got me forthwith to my lodging, where I remained retired, and all alone, as I had done the rest of that day.  
The next morning, I was no sooner up, but I received a Letter from my Nicoleta, complaining of me, that having come to visit me the day before, I would not be spoken withal, nor give her notice of that, which had past the other night betwixt myself and her Mistress, and what great business I had, that I did not round that street the next night following, telling me that she had waited there for my coming, till it was after midnight.  
Unto these, she added some other words, which lest me no less perplexed, then confounded. And that I might clear all doubts, I wrote her an answer; telling her, that I would not fail sometimes that Evening to come and visit her in the back Lane, that was behind the house. For Fabia's house stood as it were between two streets; on the backside whereof, right against the principal gate, was a little Postern door, and over that a pretty little lodging Chamber, with one little window belonging unto it, from whence Nicoleta might very conveniently talk unto me even in the day time, for that the Lane was little frequented, as being scarce passable, for that it was very narrow, and full of dirt and mire. And even then at that time, it was so bad and so foul, that very hardly and with much ado, (considering the late rain) could I get to that place, where I was to speak with Nicoleta.  
Well, when I was come thither, and she ready to receive me, she began to ask me; what was become of me? What great occasions did hinder me, that I had not come and seen her the night before? And if not for her, yet for her Mistress' sake, I might have taken that pains. She form many complaints against me, accusing the inconstancy of Men, who made love unto Women, not so much for any good affection that they bore them, as 
The inconstancy of idle young men.  to get the conquest, and Mastery of them; And when they had gotten what they desired, and received some Pledge from them, they did quickly slight them, if not wholly forget them.  
By this, as likewise by that profession, which she made of her love unto me, I knew her innocence, and Fabia's subtlety, who went about to deceive us both. Thereupon I told her; My Nicoleta, thou art quite out of the way, and so mightily deceived, as no woman can be more. For I would have thee to know, that thy Mistress hath played the jack with us both. Then I up and told her all that had befallen me, and how vilely she had used me. She blest herself, crossing and crossing herself over and over, thinking it to be a thing impossible. I stood thus talking with her, being gallantly clad, and in my best bravery, strutting my legs abroad, stretching out my neck, and discoursing of my misfortunes, being careless of that present disgrace, which my evil fortune had too near at hand for me. For it so fell out, that whilst I was thus discoursing with her, by that little Postern; (thorough which there was a way to go in and out to the Stable) it happened, that there entered in thereat (whilst the Grooms had led the Horses forth to water,) a huge big Boar; this Bore one of the Grooms found nuzzeling in the litter, which he had made ready for his Horses, turning it topsy-turvy, and scattering it all abroad the Stable. He being much moved thereat, took up a great bat in his hand, and belaboured his back and sides, as hard as he could lay on for his life. It was a fat rogue and a great; and like a Bull that is baited, came running forth, as hard as he could drive. And for that these kind of beasts, either out of custom, or nature, use to run always foreright, and seldom or never turn aside, he came directly upon me, and took me so on the sudden, that I could by no means avoid him, and perforce made his way just between my legs; so that I road as it were a-stride on horseback, but the clean contrary way; and to keep myself from falling, I took hold on his tail with both my hands, using that in stead of a Bridle, which I held as fast as possibly I could. I was not able all this while to recover myself, and had my life lain upon it, I knew not for the present how to quit myself handsomely from his back: and whilst I was devising with myself how I might come fairly off, he ran with me thorough the midst of a dirty puddle, that was nothing but mire and filth, so that for to save myself from falling, and that he might the better bear me thorough the dirt, I was forced to let go his tail, and to clasp my arms about the sides of him, with all the might and force I could. And as if we had played at binding of barrels, or 
a juego de ninos.  à punt a con cabeça, giving him many a rap at the wrong door, flinging up his snout, and huffing and puffing with his nostrils, he carried me (in spite of my teeth, for I was forced to hold fast, for fear of falling in the dirt) in his hoggish kind of gallop, some three or four streets from off that place, grumbling and grunting as he went along, and with his whining and crying, calling the people together to see what he ailed, whilst I perceiving the shame and danger I was like to run, fell off from his back of mine own accord, not regarding when, or where I should light. And much better had it been for me, had I done this before in mine own little dirty Lane; for besides that, I should not have there received so much harm, the disgrace would not have been so public, and I should have met with a remedy for this mischief nearer at hand.  
Well, I got me up as well as I could on my legs, but all bemyred, and berayed with dirt, being hooted at by the people, and affronted by all the women and children in Rome, my face being all besmeared with dirt, and my clothes from top to toe, all playstered over with mire, that I seemed to have been thrown out of the belly of some Whale. The people from out their doors and windows shouted out so loud, and the boys did so flock about me, that as one that was out of his wits, and deprived of judgement, I sought where I might best hide myself. At last I spied out a house hard by, where I thought I should find some good entertainment. I entered there-into, and made fast the door, and so barricadoed myself up close against all that company, that were desirous to see me. But it did not fall out so well with me, as I could have wished; For it is not fit, that any thing 
a Al malo, no es justo, suçeder le cosa bien.  should succeed well with the wicked. It is a punishment of his fault: and so it fell out with me, by that bad entertainment which I there received, as you shall hear more at full in the chapter following.   

CHAPTER VI.  
Guzman de Alfarache recounteth, how in the house, where-into he had withdrawn himself, to make himself clean, another disgrace befell him, and many other misfortunes. And that which passed afterwards, between him and his Lord the Ambassador, with whom he discoursed of politic and grave matters.  
THe night was now dark, but much more my heart. Every house was full of lights, but my sad soul was fuller of darkness. I did not weigh and consider with myself, that it was now late, nor that the Master of the house was not willing that I should stay there, but reviling me with odious terms, sought to drive me out with evil language, thinking every hour a year, till he had thrust me out of doors. For, he was 
Guzman makes every one suspicious of him.  jealous of me, and began to suspect, that this was but some trick or stratagem of mine own plotting, having taken hold on that occasion to get into his house, and to bring my purpose more easily to pass. Nor was this my honest Gentleman much out of the way. For the Gentlewoman his wife wore the Breeches, she was Master of the house, a friend to her own will and pleasure, very 
b The Spanish word●…, Serrada Sienes. I would be glad 〈◊〉 be informed of the propriety of this phrase, if a●… can render it better.  headstrong, and not sure of foot. So that it was no wonder that her husband should see Visions, and dream of strange apparitions, taking every shadow to be some fearful ghost, and conceiving, (out of his jealous humour) that all the world went about to cousin him. So that every the least apprehension (though of never so far-fetched a supposition) made him presently to take the Alarm. Whereupon, he no sooner saw me within his doors, but he called all his people about him, and leaving me all alone in the outward Porch to the great Gate, would not suffer his servants to do me so much kindness, as to afford me a bucket of water to wash myself withal. So that I (poor man) with my clothes all to be-myrd, my hands all to bedurted, and my face so foully besmeared, that there was not one white spot to be seen, I went entertaining my going forth with a great deal of fear, lest some might chance to be still waiting at the gate to look upon this my new Livery, which might better bear the name of Leprosy. And for that they, who beheld this my misfortune, were not a few, the company 
Guzman laughed at by common people.  increasing, and standing in a round thick together, they related it afresh to them that were newly come into their company; and for that they had a general dislike of me, they detained all that past by, relating unto them the disgrace that had befallen me, whereat they all laughed out aloud, making great signs and tokens of joy. And it may be, that most of them had reason so to do; and by this their rejoicing, did revenge themselves of those wrongs, which they had heretofore received from me. There might you see that verified of me, which is commonly sung up and down the streets. 
Mas enemigos, que amigos, tienen 
Romance.   
Sum cuerpo cercado;  
Dizen unos, que lo entierren,  
Y otros, que no sea enterrado. 

More foes than friends, his body have  
Encompassed round about;  
Some cry, to put it in the grave,  
And some, 'tshall lie without.     
The street was full of men and boys, which did persecute me with 
Guzman hated and persecuted.  shrill shouts, and loud cries, calling in a sharp and high key; Thrust him out; Thrust him out; Why do ye let this foul beast abide with you? put out this same pickled pig amongst us. O these base Rascals, how had they almost made me to lose my patience, and my judgement! There were some honest folk amongst them, that took part with me; and all those that were such as I was, showed themselves on my side. These sought to defend me from their fury, labouring to pacify that rude rabble with threats and menaces; for they were grown so shameless, and so impudent, that they began to throw stones against the gate, being very desirous to have me come forth amongst them.  
But I neither blame them, nor excuse myself. For I would have done 
Curiosity admits no respect.  the like myself, upon the same occasion, against mine own father. For, those things of curiosity, which do not (like Shrovetide) come once a year, I do not hold it any great excess to be desirous to see them. And I assure thee (nor do I speak this, to make the matter seem more than it is) that if for to make profit, I would have suffered myself to be seen, I might by this means have got a good sum of money; For I was nothing all over, but a mere lump of dirt, having like your Negroes; no more white about me to be seen, save only my eyes, and teeth; this misfortune befalling me in the most liquid kennel, and rottenest mixen that was in all the street.  
True it is, that with the knife that belonged to my Sword, I scraped away as much of it as I could, but all was but as a thing of nothing, being either little or nothing the better; for the mire, by reason of its liquidnesse, had soaked itself quite thorough my clothes, so that they remained as wet about me, as if they had been steeped in some bath. And I held it some happiness unto me in this my misery, that I did not go dropping through the streets, like a basket of Buck-cloathes, when they are taken 
Those that are unfortunate, seek to sh●…n the sight of all men. Proverb.  from the washing-Bole, and carried forth to be dried in the Sun.  
In this pitiful manner, it being now late, and all the people gone, I sneaked out in that lamentable pickle, as I would have wished them to have been in, who took most pleasure therein. If there be happiness in unhappiness, in regard of the comfort which we receive from thence; this day it should seem that fortune did play the wanton, and went sporting herself at the juego de Canas with m●…; for, though she had dis-fauoured me with these the like troubles, that you have heard; yet did she afterward assist me with the night; yea, and with such a dark night, that the people went their way, giving me leave to depart thence, sound, safe, and free, from the clamour of the boys and children, which stayed watching for me. I got me forth, throwing my Cloak over my face, without being known by any, and making large strides, seeking (if it were possible) to fly from myself, in regard of that store of dirt, and that evil savour which I bore about me in my clothes. But this could not be dissembled; for which way soever I went, I left some sign thereof behind me, beside the heat of the sent, which might very well be followed afar off, it was so strong. And none that past by me, would turn back to look upon me, because they did suspect no harm. And if any did chance to find fault with me, others would excuse me, and say; Let the poor fellow alone, it is but a little slipperiness of the Guts, a looseness of the Hilts, a little laxative oil that is come from him, which upon occasion may be every man's case, as well as his: He would have holp it and he could, and therefore you must pardon him. Others would say; Inquire no farther into the matter, make no more do about it, but give over the haunt; for the Crow 
a No putde ser el Cueruo mas negro, que las alas.  cannot be blacker, then are his wings. Others, stopping their noses as they went along by me, would cry out Foh; There hath more store of rain fall'n, than we were aware of. Others, This Disciplinante must needs have given himself some great wound, he stinks so vildly, (for they saw me muffled up in my Cloak, like those, which come from whipping themselves in the Holy Week.) Let me advise you, friend, to make all the haste you can, and call quickly for some water, before you begin to swoon.  
I had matter enough for all of them to work upon, and there was not any that past by me, but had a fling at me. And some would not stick to ask me; Tell me (friend) how sell you a pound of this Wax? And others; What's the price of your Honeycombs? And a third; Sure this must needs be some perfumer or other, since he smells so sweet. I answered them all with silence, and replied not a word unto them, by which means I passed the better along by them, though ever and anon they would be girding and scoffing at me. But for those that cried a pocks on me, and bid the Devil go with me, calling me Polecat, and the like stinking names; mumbling softly to myself, as your young Novices do their Matins in a Monastery, I paid them again in their own coin: And so hanging my head in my bosom, I hide me homewards as fast as my durt-loaden legs would carry me.  
That, which did most trouble me, was, to see the Dogs in every street come barking after me, who the faster I went, did so much the more fiercely set upon me, and especially your 
b The Spanish word is, Gozquejo. A kind of Dog, which at first was in great esteem, when they were brought out of Gothland into Spain, a Country in Europe, which confineth upon Denmark and Norway, called in the Almane tongue Gott, from whence came the Goths, which came into Castille. This race of Dogs is now bastardized, and in a manner lost. So that now your Gozques, are a kind of Mongrel Curs, which your poor and base sort of people breed up and keep. They are short-legged, long sided & headed, bawling and barking at their neighbours, troublesome to your Gallants, and abhorred of thieves. They sleep all day, and this makes them wake, and bark all night long. And your Tradesmen and Shopkeepers, will rather endure that you should strike his Son, then kick his Dog. Covarru. verb. Gozque.  Mongrel Curs, which followed me close at the heels, and would now and then give me a nip at the Calves of my legs. I would fain have afraid them away, but I durst not, fearing lest by making that defence, greater Dogs and more in number, hearing the noise that they would have made, would thereby have been drawn forth of door, and come mainly running upon me, and have torn me (like another Actaeon) all in pieces.  
At last, after these my many misfortunes, like a Ship that comes from the West-Indies, beaten at Sea, and rend and torn by Pirates, I arrived safe at seville. I was now come to my old home, and being unseen and unheard of any, had got me up to my lodging. And I should have held it no small happiness, if I could have got in as soon as I came to my Chamber door. I put my hand in my Pocket, to take out the Key, but could not find it. Then did I feel for it in the other Pocket, but could not meet with it. I cut two or three capers in the air, hoping to hear it jingle; but all was one; then did I fall a searching of my breeches, to see if happily it had got in betwixt the linings of my Hose; but the Devil a Key that was there. I rummaged every corner about me that I could suspect it to be in, but all to no purpose. For questionless I lost it in that house, whither I had withdrawn myself, when I took out my Handkerchief to wipe my face and my hands. This was a great grief unto me, and did vex me more than all the rest; in which agony and anguish of mind, lifting up my eyes to Heaven, as a man in desperation, I breathed forth these words of complaint.  
Poor, miserable man, as I am; What shall I do? or whither shall I go? What will become of me? What course shall I take, that my Master's servants, 
Guzman laments his misfortune.  and other my Companions and fellows of the house, may not come to the knowledge of this disgrace that hath thus unluckily befallen me? How shall I cloak and dissemble this business, that I may not be made a laughing stock amongst them? I may boldly tell all the world besides, that they lie, but I cannot do so to those of the house, if they should hap to see me. To others I might deny it, either in part, or in whole, as shall seem best unto me: But here, if they chance to light upon me, I am openly taken in the manner, the theft found about me, the cause opened, and my mouth shut, not being able to allege any thing in mine own defence, nor can I invent that Lie, that will be able to give them satisfaction, and make good what I shall say in mine own excuse. Those that envy my inwardness with my Master, will bathe themselves herewith in Rose-water; it will be meat and drink to them, and they will not stick to call their friends about them; who, like swarms of Bees, will fly in presently upon me, and come buzzing about me, to work my more shame and amazement. I am utterly undone, my Bark lies all a t'one side, and is ready to be drowned, because it hath no Pilot to set her upright, and to steer her in her true course, nor any Master that is able to govern her.  
With these exclamations (wretched as I was) I rend the air, and was ready to run out of my wits: but was not so wise at that time to call to mind, what an ill name I had gotten in Rome, and yet with outcries and lamentations must thus pitifully bewail an accident of fortune. O would to God, that (considering the great troubles of this world) we would be as sensible of the adversities of the mind, as we are moved with the afflictions of the body! But that doth happen unto us, which is want to befall those, which sweep all clean before the door, and when they have done, throw the dust into the house. Thus did I stand, making funeral lamentations over my misfortunes, when lo, there came a thing into my mind, which had happened some few days before, which was of great comfort unto me, adding new courage and strength unto me against all such accidents as might hereafter succeed unto me. And thus it was:  
There was a Courtesan of Rome, who caused another woman, because 
The revenge that a Roman Courtesan took of another woman, for being to lavish of her tongue.  she had been somewhat too lavish of her tongue, to be slashed over the face, cutting her athwart the nose, from one cheek to the other, the cut running equally on either side of her face. And while the Surgeon was a dressing of her, after that he had given her some sixteen or seventeen stitches, she weeping said; O what an unfortunate woman am I! Gentlemen, let me entreat you for God's sake, that my Husband may not know of this. A waggish fellow, that stood there by, told her, If this slash had been upon your buttocks, as it is upon your face, it might haply have been hidden from him; but seeing there is no Veil to cover it; why do you enjoin us to keep it secret?  
In like sort, it seemed simplicity, and mere foolery in me, to use such a deal of nicety in the business. And the rather, for that this mischance was public. And because, (by reason of the general knowledge thereof) it could not be concealed, I thought it the best way for me, to get the Game by the hand, and to speak of it first myself, telling as many of it, as I should meet withal, making a jest of it, and recounting the whole Story thereof unto them, before they should receive it from some other hand, and so at last come to know what a bad and long voyage I had made. Which if they should have done, it had been better for me, that I had been out of this miserable world.  
Let him endure the title of a bad name, that desires to have it dye 
The best way to shake off a nickname, is to set light by it. Haga number de mal numbers quien dessea, que se le cayga presto.  quickly. For, with the more violence we seek to shake it off, so much the closer it cleaveth unto us. Insomuch, that it continueth many times to the fifth generation; and then those, which succeed them, do glory and boast themselves thereof, and blazon that for their Arms, which their Ancestors held for an affront. The like hath befallen this my poor book, which I having entitled with the name of 
a Obseruatio vitae humanae.  Atalaya de la vida humana; The Watch-Tower of man's life, they have put the nickname of 
b Picaro, 〈◊〉 a Rogue.  Picaro thereupon, and now it is known by no other name.  
I was much perplexed, and as yet unresolued what I were best to do. And for that I thought with myself, that in our miseries, there is no other Sanctuary on earth to fly unto, but those that are our friends; though I must confess I had but a few, and amongst those never a true one, I held it not amiss, to have recourse to some one of my Companions, that had professed much love unto me, and had made me the fairest shows of friendship.  
This being now concluded on, I got me to his lodging, and knocked at his door, which he presently opened unto me: where I did remain, while the lock was ripped off from mine. You may conceive with yourself in what a woeful case I was, that I durst not sit down upon a trunk that was there in the room, for fear of leaving therein the print of this my error. This unhappy Accident could not be kept so secret, but that it must needs be known. And it is a misery, that follows great men's houses, that there is not a servant therein, that doth not strive and labour all that he can, to flatter and 
Servants given to flatter their Masters.  sooth up his Lord and Master, although it be with merry jests, and feigned tales, when as there is no such matter. For they deal with him, as those that play booty, seeking to serve one another's turn, using all their art and skill to cousin and deceive him: Whereby every Master knows, how and to what end his servants love him, and with what affection they serve him. And he is a kind of unfortunate man, and in a miserable and wretched taking, if he think to win them by rigour, and to work them to love him for fear. For few or none have ever been able to bring this to pass. For the heart of 
Love, is gained by love, and not by rigour. Man's heart, a tender thing.  man, is a noble thing, and must be won with gentle usage; it must not be roughly dealt withal, but stroaked with a smooth and soft hand.  
I had scarce shifted my clothes, and washed myself clean, but that my Master knew I was all bedurted. They had told him in what case I was, but none of them could tell him the cause of it. This was all they could say of me, and so they left me, as they found me; so that by this means, I had a fair white to shoot at, and might make my aim as I would myself. He demanded first of one, and then of another, how this came about, but none could inform him farther, than what they had seen.  
Afterwards it was told me, (which was no more than I heard from his own mouth) that he conceited with himself, that they had caught me in Fabia's house, and that knowing my tricks, and cunning carriage, they had turned the keel of me upwards, and had thus trimmed and pitched me over, as your Seamen do your ships: and that I seeking to escape their hands, fell by misfortune into some dirty puddle, or filthy dunghill: Or else, that wrestling and striving with some of the servants, that were sent out after me to catch me, they had thrown me down in the dirt, bemoyling me in that beastly manner, being more willing to do me shame and reproach, then to take away my life. I likewise at the same time was casting up my Account with myself, making me a 
a Haziendo cuna del mismo pàlo. Proverb.  wedge out of the same piece of wood, that I might drive this business the better, and come home unto him, by iumping with his conceit, and cleaving the same block, that he had already entered upon, hoping thereby to give him the better satisfaction. And though his Cards and mine were not the same, yet were they both of a suit, and the Trump was turned up right for either hand; and by different 
b Proverb. Por caminos diferentes, y bomos ambos à un parador.  ways we happed both to meet at one, and the same place: only we did differ in this; that he by his wisdom did conjecture, what was the most likely; and I, out of a vain and idle humour, made report of that, which might be least prejudicial to my reputation. He had all that night been busy a writing, and making his Dispatches for France; but laying his Papers awhile aside, out of the great desire that he had to know the truth of the matter, he presently sent for me in. But when I was come, and had presented myself unto him, he said not a word unto me, till he had retired himself into his withdrawing Chamber, and dismissed his servants, and that we two were all alone.  
Then did he begin to ask me, how I came by my fall, and where? I told him; that I stood at a neighbour's door, that was right over against Fabia's house, watching very diligently, if I could have the opportunity to speak with her; and whilst I was carefully attending this business, her Maid Nicoleta came forth, making signs unto me, that I should quickly come away. And being ouerioyed with this unexpected good fortune, I would needs cross the Lane, where the way was worst and foulest, (because I would not lose time in going about by that which was the cleaner) fetching a nimble leap, thinking to pitch sure with my foot upon a stone, that was not so firmly laid as it should have been, it tottered aside, and so my foot slipped; I sought to recover myself, but could not, and so fell into the dirt, where I was most pitifully bemyred. Whereupon, Nicoleta, the people that passed by, beginning to flock about me, withdrew herself, and went in. So that I was enforced to come home, without effecting what I went for; Which did much more grieve me then my fall. But all things do not always fall out as we would have them. He then said unto me, I suffer more in this, than thyself. The harm is more mine, then thine.  
This business (Guzmanillo) goes not luckily along with thee. It was a work of darkness, thou went'st about it late in the Evening, in an unfortunate hour, and upon a Tuesday: this disgrace could not have befallen thee, in any man's service, but mine, nor have lighted so unluckily upon any but myself, such is my misfortune.  
Whereunto I replied; I would not that your Lordship should make this ill construction to yourself, nor would I have you to reckon this in the number; but I am rather persuaded, that it would have been worse with us, if this misfortune had not befallen me. For we have a Proverb in Castille; 
a Proverb.  Queen breme un pie, quiças por mejor. I broke my leg, and it may be, it was all for the best. And I am the bolder to tell you so, for that her Husband was at that time at home in the house, and therefore it makes me to suspect, that there was some trap laid for me, and that I was called into some ill end; but suppose it were otherwise, and that the wind had blown fair in the Poop, and that I had entered into the Haven; say, that the servants of the house should either have spied me, or overheard me talking with their Mistress, what doth your Excellency think, would then have become of me? Assure yourself, they would have cudgelled me sound, and have used me so hardly, that I should not have 'scaped their fingers, till they had broken all my bones, and sent me home without a nose. For my so often rounding of that house, hath caused some notice to be taken thereof; and albeit that some do think that I only do it for Nicoleta's sake, yet many, that do not know the good love that is between us, are apt to conceive the worst. And I have of late observed, that the good old man, Don Beltran, hath looked askew upon me, as if he were not well pleased with me. He was wont heretofore to speak kindly unto me, ask my opinion concerning the Ladies, and Gentlewomen of this Court, and if I knew of any good Spanish ware in that kind; but now he passes along by me, not so much as once offering to speak to me: and if I put off my Hat and salute him, he looks another way, as if he did not see me, and goes along by me like a log, without any life or motion towards me at all.  
This was the effect of that which I then said unto him; my Master all this while being very attentive unto me, and ever and anon knitting his brow, and casting up his eyes, whereby I knew, that I had stung him, and made him to sit musing, as one that had been amazed upon the report of some strange and sudden accident. I saw all his Cards, and knew what gam●… he had in his hand, and how he would play it, and found by him, that he was afraid both of his reputation, and his person, and that it would be little for his honour, if any disgrace should befall him in that house, in regard it was one of the greatest, and the noblest allied in all that City. I taking hold of this occasion, came in a little closer unto him, helping to turn the Key about, when I saw which way it was winding; and so thinking it fit to strike the Iron whilst it was hot, prosecuting my purpose, I spoke thus unto him; There is not any thing now in this world, that can work astonishment in me, nor make me to abate one hair of my courage; for I am well acquainted with misfortunes, know how far Disgrace can throw the bar, and the utmost harm she could do me. For he that shall tread in my steps, and run those courses that I have done, shall hazard both the loss of his life, and honour. But I have armed myself with patience, to endure any misfortune whatsoever. I have learned long ago courageously to suffer and abide the changes of Fortune with an undaunted mind, for I always suspect the worst, looking 
From Fortune, we are to suspect the worst.  for the hardest measure she can give me, and prevent her better usage, by expecting no good at her hands. Her effects are never so great, as are her threatenings; and if I should have been cowed with them, they would have followed me still close at the heels, as the Greyhound doth the Hare, and never give me over, as long as she could wag her tail, or fetch her breath  
No great heed is to be given to that which hath succeeded in this business, nor that I entered into it upon a Tuesday; For I am neither wedded to superstitions, nor think that your Lordship is descended of the House of the 
b Tuesday observed to have been an unfortunate day to the house of the Mendoças.  Mendoças, that you should be taken with these vain and idle toys of the Spaniards, as if all other days had a particular privilege, and Tuesday only had received a curse from heaven. And if Fortune should fall upon me, with all the forces she can make, come what can come unto me, be it never so bad, all her rigorous dealing towards me, shall not wring one word out of my mouth, that shall be prejudicial to any man. Your Excellency may do well to dissemble this business, and to seem to take no notice of what hath past, nor to care a pin for it. For mine own part, I shall ever truly serve you to the death, fall back, fall edge, hap what will hap, all is one to me. Yet withal, true it is, and I shall make bold to tell you so, that if the Case were mine, as it is yours, I would not only desist therefrom, considering how cross things go; for of a thousand days, I cannot get one day of Audience; so that it is likely to prove an endless piece of work, and an immortal kind of business, like unto that of your 
a Mayorasgo, is the heir of a house.  Mayorasgos, or Primo-genitureship, which your fathers settle upon their eldest sons, but shall not come to enjoy their estate, till they be dead. Besides, I may not well set my foot any more in those parts, by reason that my haunting of that place is now generally noted, and some stick not to talk too liberally of it.  
There are not wanting in Rome as good, and better ware than she, which may be had with less danger, at an easier rate, and give your Lordship more content, and less trouble. I know not how it is with others, but my love is not so fervent, as to love for love, but for fashion sake to laugh and be merry, and to make sport, as they use to do in my country. I am like a Melon-mongers Knife, cutting here a slice, and there a slice, now at this corner, then at that, changing and altering my marks, roving sometimes at one, sometimes at another, here to day (as they say) and to morrow in France. I take thought for nothing, nor am I wedded to my will in any thing, nor am I constant in my purposes, especially in matters of love. For if one will not, another will. I eat, and sleep at my due hours; I sigh not, when I am out of my Mistress' sight, but in her presence, I fetch many a grievous groan, and utter my complaints. And this is that mill, wherewith I grind. But your Excellency runn's a clean contrary course. For you do all that you do, with a great deal of gravity, and with a Lordly kind of carriage and greatness. And being a great and powerful man, you have those things in chase, which are hardest to be achieved, and like the Falcon fly at the Hearne, making wing after her, till she be quite out of sight; pursuing your game to the utmost you are able, cost it what it will cost, or come what will come of it, you care not. For as you have force and strength to make resistance, so you accommodate all things handsomely by your discretion and wisdom; you have a good staff to trust to; and good legs to bear you up.  
You do not well understand (Guzmanillo) what you say, said my Master unto me; but is rather all quite contrary to that, which thou hast spoken. For there is nothing now at this present more prejudicial, nor more noted and observed, than any the least spot or weakness in a public 
Every little spot, a foul blemish in a public person.  person. For men of my quality are bound to wear such clothes as befit such Ministers, and not as shall fit best with our own fancy. Otherwise, we shall be taxed by those that cast an eye upon them. And every little indecency in them, turns to a stain at least, if not a foul blot. A little breath (you know) will make the biggest Organs go. And your greatest men sound loudest in the ears of the world, when the noise of their actions are blown abroad by the bellowes of the people's breath. And I swear●… unto thee, that if I had not engaged myself by my word, and more particularly im-pawned my credit to Nicoleta, by giving my faithful promise, that I would come and visit Fabia in person (besides it would grieve me, to be accounted inconstant, or cowardly, blaming me of lightness, that my love should be like that of children, or like water in a Sieve, or that I went about but to try of what metal she was made, and then to laugh and scoff at her cozening of both her and myself of these our good hopes, and that it should be said of me, that I did then turn tail, when I might have seized on my game, and had the Partridge in foot, which I might have trussed, if I would myself) I would not have cared a button. Besides, being (as thou sayest) that this business goes on so slowly, and so coldly, I do not find myself so fast entangled in her love, and so transported with passion, that I do not understand and consider with myself, that she hath a husband, that is one of the principal, and chiefest in Rome, rich, and noble, out of which respect we ought to walk very warily, as professing to have some honourable beginning, and not to dis-honour the house we come of, for which cause I ought to keep a good Decorum, without doing wrong or injury to any. And although she be young and fair, (and as such a one obliged to take hold on those fair occasions that are offered) yet ought I not to follow her blandishments, and perhaps to my too great cost, but with a great deal of caution and heed; as shall best stand with that duty which I owe to my nobleness of blood, and to the honour of their house and kindred.  
Many times, without due consideration, we unaduisedly will see a man's game, and upon bad Cards (though we have little reason for it) set up our rest, and when we are once in, we cannot give over the Vye, unless we will be accounted simple, cowardly, and weak.  
But since that on our part, we have used all possible diligencies, and that they prevail so little, and cost us so much, (as the case standeth now with the honour of this Gentlewoman;) if my sensual appetite, like Gunpowder, hath with its fire scorched, if not burnt my reason, by acknowledging now the ill, which I have taken in hand, that fury is now overpassed, and prostrating myself on the earth, I confess my fault. I will go no more (as thou sayst) following of that, which flieth from me. But with this Lady, which was in a manner in my hands, I will deal with her, as doth the generous Hawk, by letting this Bird go; by which nobleness of mine, that ill name shall be quite buried underground, which for my sake hath been raised of her; taking therein the best course that I can, that may make most for both our reputations.  
This was that he said unto me. And me thought that this his resolution was my salvation. For therein, I found the Paradise of my desires opened unto me; and praising this his good purpose, the issue was the easier, not so much for his intention, as for my reputation. And therefore I said unto him, Your Excellency shall herein do like yourself, and proceed in that which you both say, and do, with that correspondency, which is most agreeable to your wisdom. For albeit it be a great happiness, to obtain that which we desire; yet I hold it a greater, not to desire that, which our sensuality suggesteth unto us; much less, if it incite us to the hurt of others, and more especially towards persons of quality.  
This is a Christian consideration, and a Daughter worthy the birth of your Lordship's brain; and therefore fit that you should father it, and not cast it off. And for the manner how you shall come off from this business, leave that to me. For a faithful servant, although for to maintain himself in his Master's love and favour, he is wont to give a heat unto that 
What a serua●… ought to do to maintain himself in his Master's favour.  appetite which he finds to be in him, yet is he bound, when he shall see this humour corrected in him, to turn the reins, encouraging him to continue in this his good purpose. This being said, he licenced me from him, saying; Farewell (Guzman) and think upon this business, which I put into thy hands, as I have already done mine honour. And so we parted.   

CHAP. VII.  
The jest being publicly known through Rome, which befell Guzman de Alfarache, together with the ill success that he had with the Boor; for very shame he departs from thence, and goes for Florence. In which journey, a Thief enters into friendship with him, that he might the better under that colour, rob him of all that he had.  
I Have often considered with myself, how much Passion blindeth him, that is in Love.. And I begin now to think 
Passion blindeth Lovers.  upon my Master, that he should recommend his honour unto me, as if I knew how to handle it, without soiling it. It comes likewise unto my remembrance, (nor can I choose but laugh, when I think upon it) how it was possible for me, being so notorious and offensive a Liar, as I was, to stand in such favour as I did with my Lord: and that his Excellency should treat with me, more than any other, of matters of importance; as also, that he should trust me with his secrets, and his substance, admit of my opinion, and give credit to all that I should say; and that I being such a one as I was, from whose mouth never came any Truth, which was not adulterated by me in its going forth, yet I could not endure a Lie in another.  
And for that very cause did I hate that man to the death, and could never afterwards abide him, that should abuse me (though but once) in that kind. 
A Liar loves not a Lie in another.  Nor was this any wonder in me, being that it is natural to all those that negotiate businesses, to be much offended, if they be not in all things punctually dealt withal; when as they themselves know not how to speak a true word, and are never weary of lying. They begin with the highest, and end with the lowest. For what can be more noble than Truth? and what 
The effects of a Liar.  more base than Lying? If you are to receive any courtesy from them; or that you would have them to do you a favour (though this kindness shall cost them nothing) how many sleights; how many tricks; how many delays, and puttings off from one day to another, and from this, to the next morning, which morning never comes; being like unto that of the Crow, which cries still Cras, promising that which she never performeth?  
But if you are to give them any thing, and that you do not keep touch with them at the time appointed, (and which is the fault now and then of your best Watches) that you miss but one minute, if you fail never so little of your promise, if you do not justly make payment, and delay them but one hour, you are no man of your word, nor do you know what belongs to good dealing, nor are so honest as you should be. I did the like with those that I had to do withal. I did consider (but foolishly I must confess) with myself; What will it benefit me to tell truth? What does it concern me, that it is the Vice of those that are vile and base, and 
Lying, the food of beasts.  the repast and food of beasts? What harm shall I receive, if men will not give credit unto me, if I have got the same already, although they apparently see that I lie, and that such is their passion, that they will not dis-deceive themselves of my deceit? What honour have I to lose? How can I fail in my credit? I am well enough known, and the world is now come to that pass, that only for this cause of my lying, they uphold, maintain, favour, 
Notable instructions for great Princes, & men of quality.  and esteem me.  
Lying, and Flattery, is meat alone for g●… men, it is the only dish that pleaseth their palate, the only music that delighteth their ears. But you are no welcome man unto them, if you come and tell them, that it is time for them to leave off gaming, that they have wasted and consumed their estate, and that their Vassals and Tenants are grown poor and beggarly. That they should not play the Fanfarrones, roisting and swaggering where ere they come: nor show themselves dissolute, and lose in their behaviour, either in the open streets, or in the Church, which must needs give occasion of much both hurt and scandal. That they should not be such lavish and prodigal spenders, as to ruin themselves, and to break their necks through too much haste, by taking Post-horses, as it were to run out of their estates. And seeing that they can find in their hearts, and make no bones of it, to fool away such a deal of money as they do, and that so vainly, and so idly, that they would yet make a conscience to pay their servants their wages, and not to let them go tottered and torn, and ready to starve for hunger. That if they be rich, and in favour with their Prince, that they dispense a part of these their good fortunes to the poor. That if they have their King's ear, and are inward with him, that they should make benefit of this their privacy, by procuring themselves good and sure friends; for there is no firmness in Fortune; nor no Prince's favour so fixed, but it may fall off. That at least, on Festival days, they should rise betimes and get them to Church to hear Mass. And that they should truly and sincerely make confession of their sins, and not only for fashion sake, to comply with the Parish, being therein only nominal, but not real Christians, having the name, but not the nature of true Christians; for there are a kind of men, that make a show of having faith, and that observe the precepts of the Church, but for no other end, lest they should be punished, if they should do otherwise. That they should look well into themselves, and learn to know that they were but men.  
And in case that they should be old and strooken in years, that they are now wrestling with death, who is ready to trip up their heels, and throw them into the grave, which lies ready open to receive them; Their sentence is already notified unto them; and as they that are to be executed, take leave of their friends, and have those Ensigns borne before them, 
Death's sentence what manner of thing it is?  which are prepared for that conflict; So must they at last take their farewell of all those things, whereunto they living bore most affection: As their taste, their sleep, their seeing, their hearing, & the like; To which sweet Senses sentence of death is daily, if not hourly notified, by the Reynes, the Kidneys, the Liver, the lesser Guts, and our Urine: The stomach begins to languish, the strength of it waxes weak, its natural heat begins to fail; here the eye-teeths drop away, there the gumm's fall on aching: all which are as a mouldering away of these our clods of earth, and that the timber of this our house is rotten, and the roof ready to fall about our ears, and that there are no buttresses to uphold this tottering wall; from the foundation to the very top, it is wholly run to decay, and the ruin thereof is at hand.  
Admonish a young man of these, and the like things; or some rich young 
Necessary lessons for young Gallants.  Gallant, who is as daring, as he is indiscreet, and so headstrong, that he will not be ruled; represent, I say, unto him, that he doth not know his friends from his foes, that for speaking thus, looking there, commending that, and peradventure for but walking by, if not entering where he should not, he will be suddenly stabbed at one time or other, not having so much time as to receive the blessed Sacraments, nor to call upon God, to help him in this his extremity; or to advise him to consider, that his blood is corrupted, ill humours abound in him, that he lives disorderly, as given to all excess and riot, that he useth little exercise, and that his often surfeitings will bring him to an Apoplexy, or some other dangerous disease, that will quickly make an end of him, or that the Lamb goes as soon to the Shambles as the sheep; and that he should not flatter himself, because he finds himself strong in his arms, so and in his feet, lusty in his legs, able in his body, and free from all aches, either in his head, or those his other parts, that therefore he is safe, is privileged from sickness, hath an established health, and assurance of long life.  
And here (me thinks) I hear this young gallant say; Such poor Rascals as thou art, must come to die, and suffer such misfortunes as these; For I am 
The poor reasons that the rich allege against the poor.  rich, strong, valiant, discreet, and nobly descended. I have a faite house to dwell in, a soft bed to lie in, I eat what I list, I want nothing that my heart can desire, I live at pleasure, and do what I will, without controlment; and where there are no troubles, nor no care-taking, there is no sickness, there no door open for old age to enter. Ah, poor silly fool that thou art! Samson, David, Solomon, and Lazarus, were more good, more discreet, 
None live for ever in this world.  more valiant, more gallant, and more rich than thou, and yet they died, when their time was come.  
There have been many millions of men from Adam's time to thine, and yet there was not any one of them that lived for ever in this world. He than that shall tell them this Truth, or any thing else that may be for their good, they will take him to be a fool. Who then will adventure to tell them their faults? Or who dare speak their mind freely unto them? Let 
a There is a Spanish Proverb that says, Aueriguelo Vargas Let Vargas approve it. Which is to be understood, when a 〈◊〉 is very intrua●… and hard to be decided. This Proverb grew first from the Licenciado Francisco de Vargas, of the College of Santa Cruz in Valladolid, a man of a strong brain, and of a quick dispatch, whom King Don Fernando made choice of to be his Secretary. And because he did remit all his Memorials to his scanning, and to give him an account of them, he would usually say, when any made suit unto him; Aueriguelo Vargas. Covarru. Verb. Vargas. We must neither jest with great men, nor tell them the truth. We are all of us but weaklings. We ought not to flatter ourselves.  Vargas speak to this point. He must be either desperate or foolish, that shall presume to tell Princes and great Persons of these things; for if thou be a man of understanding, and have any thing in thee worthy commendation, they will presently call thee into the Court, and frame a bill against thee, executing that Statute upon thee, of Scandalum magnatum. And if thou be'st a Buffone and common jester, they will send thee to the Porter's Lodge, and there have thee whipped. Therefore thou must neither jest with those that are rich and mighty, nor yet be so plain with them, as to tell them the truth. For, I am not bound to speak the truth, where I know it will not be accepted, and whence I am sure I shall get great hatred, if not harm, for my good will. It shall be sufficient for my understanding, and all such as I am, to know that all things in this world pass away, and that we shall pass away likewise with them. I could be content to say this over and over a thousand times together, and repeat no other lesson; For, to understand this truth alone, is that which most importeth us, and doth most nearly concern us. And why should we promise that unto ourselves, which we can not accomplish? He that holds himself to be the strongest man, of the soundest constitution, of the best composed humours, and the purest mixed elements, this man, I say, (for all his well ordered frame of nature) hath no assurance of his long continuance, but is more apt to fall, than those other houses of Clay, which are less substantially built. There is not any man's strength, be it never so great, that can resist but a puff of sickness; the best of us all are but dunghills, and heaps of dust, which a little blast of wind will scatter away, and lay us level with the earth. Let no man flatter and deceive himself: let him not feign that to himself, which is nothing so: nor entertain that, which his lying sensuality shall dictate unto him. For she will speak that unto thee, which she utters to all the world besides. She will tell thee; Thou art great and powerful, and may'st therefore do what thou list. That thou art a Gallant, and mayst therefore go up and down, and take thy pleasure. Thou art fair and rich, and mayst therefore be dishonest, and dissolute. Thou art noble, and mayst therefore lawfully scorn thy inferiors, and think none to be equal unto thee. And if thou receivest an injury, it is not for thine honour to put it up, but to revenge it to the full. Thou art a Governor, and set in authority over others, and therefore mayst govern according to thine own will, and order businesses for thine own best advantage, though it be to the hurt of others, let them maunder their worst, or come what will come, thou needest not to care. Thou art a judge, and mayst therefore judge in thy friend's favour, mayst tread justice under thy foot and pervert the Laws at thine own pleasure. Thou art favoured by the King, and art able to show favour unto others; thou mayst therefore use this thy favour, as thou shalt 
Proverb.  think fit, and shall suit best with thine own liking, & blow 
a Dara un humo à narizes. i. disgu●…arle, y ●…ojarle. Covarr. Verb Humo. None is so good as he thinks himself to be. Man is but dust; and what kind of dust.  smoke in the noses of the poor, not regarding how thou dost offend, and distaste them. For it stands not with thy reputation, thy Office, thy Dignity, nor thy honour, that they should ask thee that which thou owest them, nor speak to thee for that his cloak, which thou hast wrongfully taken from him.  
But, in good faith (my Lords) I must be so bold to tell you, that be ye never so great, or be ye so great as ye imagine yourselves to be, (though you can never be so great, as you conceit yourselves to be) yet the very best of you, when you are at the best, are no better than a little dust. Make your choice of which dust ye will; be it earth, or ashes; for there are no other sorts of dust. If of earth; let it put ye in mind, that your beginning was dust, though tempered with a little water, giving ye thereby to understand (if your greatness make ye not like beasts, that understand not) that you should make yourselves fruitful for heaven, by entering into a due consideration of yourselves, and an acknowledgement of your own unworthiness. Ye know well enough, that the earth cannot, without water, yield any fruit; And if this earth of yours become dry through your vices, and that it be not watered with the dew of heaven, with holy inspirations, and with good works, that it may fructify and bring forth fruit, by pardoning of injuries, ask forgiveness for those wrongs which ye have done to others, by paying those debts that ye owe, and by showing true repentance, ye shall be but as heaps of Ashes, good for nothing, and cast out upon the dunghill. And that in the end shall befall ye, which we see to happen unto Ashes, whereof that Soap is made, that serves to take out the soils and spots that are in clothes, and are afterwards as things of no use, thrown forth upon some one filthystinking mixen, or other. Ye shall by your bad examples, so terrify others, and make them so afraid of following the evil courses, that they shall thereby be saved, and ye damned to the pit of hell, that everlasting burning coalpit, whose fire shall never go out. These I tell ye, are truths, and now it is time to tell ye them. And if I told ye lies in my youth, out of a kind of pride and bravery that I took in them, now experience teaches me another lesson, and riper years have brought me to the knowledge of those many errors, which I then committed.  
Nor let any man endanger himself, for to think, that that may happen 
We must not defer our amendment upon hope of long life.  unto him, which hath befallen me; to wit, Long-life; and relying thereupon, grow slack and careless of their amendment, hoping that they may do that time enough hereafter, when they begin to wax old; for a sharp Easterly wind shall come upon thee on the sudden, ere ever thou art aware of it, and nip this thy flower of youth, with the cold bitter frost of death, and shear thee down to the ground in this thy green and flourishing state, as grass is cut down by the scythe of the Mower, and thou shalt presently wither, and be carried clean away, never more to be seen. I was never sure that I should come to live thus long, nor can any man else warrant his own life. For we are all of us but as Birds that fly abroad in the 〈◊〉 s singing and sporting▪ while in the mean time the Eagle comes, and seizeth upon one of them, which seemeth best unto him. Or else comes the Owner of those grounds, using a thousand tricks and devices to take them. None of us know the set hour of our death, but all of us know this, that we must go one after another. I likewise, have followed mine own idle humour, not thinking upon any settled course in this world; but because the end which I intent, is to build up a perfect man, still as I meet with stones fit for this building, I go 
The Author's intention.  setting of them up; these occasions, are my Centre, and by them, as by so many lines, I come thereunto. But here I will lay down this load of stones, and when time shall serve, I will return again with another, and it shall not be long ere I gather more, and bring them in place.  
Returning therefore to our present purpose; I say, that I was wholly compacted of lies, as I had ever been. With some I would be a Martyr, with 
Guzman, a notable liar.  other some a Confessor. For all things are not to be communicated to all. And therefore I would never truly impart my troubles to any, nor punctually publish them; but when I was forced to manifest the same, I would tell one man one tale, and another, another; and no man had it without its comment. And because a Liar (they say) had need of a good memory; I, that 
A liar had need of a good memory.  had none of the best, to day I would recount the case one way, and to morrow another, and so many times, so many different ways did I vary from that which I first delivered: So that, bearing myself in this manner, I gave occasion to those that knew me to be a Liar, not to give credit so much to me, as to the general voice and report that went abroad. For they did all of them truly and really agree upon the thing itself; they did jump in the matter, but not in the manner. For every one did either take away, or add thereunto, as he thought best; and as thou thyself perhaps art wont now and then to do.  
Now, for some few days, as a novelty that had been newly set abroach, there was no other thing talked of in all Rome. My misfortune was the theme of their Discourse, and my being be●…myr'd, the salt that seasoned their conversation. It came likewise to my Master's ear, but he being wise, gave it the hearing, but spoke not a word of it. For a Master is not always bound to take notice of all that is done; for than he should be tied (by the Law of goodness, and out of the nobleness of his nature) to remedy what is amiss. He did dissemble it all that he could, but not so cunningly, but that by some inter-smiling, and casting of his eyes, he made it known. He ploughed with me, and therefore knew what furrow I had turned up. And as it was fit for 
A Master is not bound to take notice of every 〈◊〉 tale that is told him.  him to dissemble it, so was it for me to deny it. We were silent on all sides, but not very long, for the Devil's cloven foot at last broke out at his shoes. There was a certain friend of his, and consequently my enemy, who taking him one day all alone, told him, how much it imported both his quality and credit, to rid himself of me, in regard of the public and open language, which I used of those things which his Lordship had entrusted me withal, and that every one might screw what he would from me, and draw all those secrets from me, which he had committed to my bosom. That Gentlemen of his place and profession should proceed according to that, which represented 
An Ambassadors must have a care as well of his Masters, as his own reputation.  itself unto them, and that his Lordship doing the contrary, it would prove very prejudicial to his own reputation, and his master's service. This discourse is mine own; and though happily these formal words were not delivered just in the same phrase, as I have now delivered unto you; yet I verily believe, they were like unto these, if not more effectual than what I have here set down. But howsoever they were the same, or not the same, I am sure that none of them all could tell him more, than he himself already knew, nor advice him better than he was able to advise himself. And I make no question▪ that he was not well pleased with that which they said unto him. But he spoke not one word thereof unto me at that time, nor made any show of alteration, or carried any other kind of countenance towards me, than he was wont to do. Only, because Lent was now newly come in, he made use of that occasion, to live a little more retired, and not to talk of profane and idle matters, and particularly, not of women.  
Thus did things run along. But in regard that I was become the common Tabletalk of all the Town, those that waited on my Lord in his Chamber, his Pages, and other his ordinary servants, took a little more liberty and licence of language unto them, than did well beseem them. For, to make themselves merry, and to entertain the time, what between jest and earnest, they did so nip me with their witty jests, and pay me home with their Satirical lashes, that your Mariners do not more strain their tackle in a tempest, than they did wrest and wring the very bowels within me. So that now at last, neither at home, nor abroad, had I any place, wherein I might rest secure; nor any wall, where-against to lean, and from whence some Echo did not sound, that did voice forth the sins that I had done.  
I had now so lost all patience, and was so in a manner besides myself, 
How a wise man may be made to turn Fool, or madman.  that one day as I passed along the street, I was almost enforced to have committed many fooleries. He said well, who being asked, in how long a time, a wise man might turn fool? Answered; That is according as the boys in the street shall flock about him, abuse him, and hoot at him. This was it that brought the water up above my chin, and was ready to drown me; this was it that made me to forswear all sufferance, and to renegue my wont patience.  
Many little children, as well as the greater lubbers, did persecute me, 
Guzman persecuted by boys and children.  wheresoever I went, laughing and scoffing at me, with strange outcries, and loud shouts, making a most hideous noise. I took up stones, and would have thrown at them; but a young man, of mine own stature, quality and years, well-behaved, but somewhat hot and choleric, came running in upon me, and held my arm so fast, that I was not able to move a finger to do them any hurt; yet did he deal so honestly with me, as to take part with me against them all, and to defend me against this their rage and fury, drawing in two or three other of his friends, that came along in his Company, making resistance both in deeds, and in words, against those Hobbers-de-hoye, which like so many Hob-gobblins, or little Devils, did haunt me up and down from street to street, and from house to house. And having now quieted and laid these unruly spirits, he took me by the hand, bringing me himself alone home to my lodging, leaving his Companions behind to keep back the boys.  
When he had brought me thus home, I would fain have had him to stay with me, that I might have fastened some kindness upon him, and have done him all the courtesy and honour the house could afford: But could by no means get him to accept thereof.  
Then did I entreat him, that he would tell me his name, as also where was his lodging, that I might come to kiss his hands, and give him thanks for the undeserued kindness I had received from him; but he would neither acquaint me with the one, nor the other; promising to return some other time to visit me. Only he told me, that he did bear particular affection as well to my person, as my Country; for that I was a Spaniard, and that he was as sensible of this disgrace of mine, as if it were his own. And with this we took leave each of other. I came home with my colour so changed, my eyes so inflamed, and my understanding so confounded, that (not considering well what I did) coming just in the nick, when dinner was a serving up, I would needs go up with the rest of the Pages to wait at his Lordship's table. But when I was come into the dining room, and found what Gentlemen were there attending on his Excellency, I then saw my 
Guzman's indiscretion.  simplicity, and saw how egregiously I had played the fool; and would fain have holp myself, by getting forth from amongst them: but it was too late; for my Master had already perceived by my countenance what I ailed, and (without casting my water) that all was not well with me, and that I was inwardly much troubled. Whereupon he demanded of me, what was the cause of this my perturbation? I being taken thus on a sudden, having no leisure to fall then a coining, and having never a new lie in store, went plainly to work, and told him all the whole truth of the business, and every particular passage thereof; which was all out, before I was aware, telling that, which I was not willing to utter. And this was the first Wine, that came out of my Tavern without water, and the first truth that ever I told in my life. My Master said nothing to it: but those that waited at the board, not being able to forbear laughing, 
The first truth, that ever Guzman told.  one claps me the cover of the Cup that he held in his hand before his face, another the Plate that he held between his Thumbs, a third the Napkin wherewith he served as server, and those that were empty-handed; laying one hand on their face, and with the other stopping their mouth; their hearts being ready to burst in their bellies, hide them (for fear of blurting in my Lord's face) as fast out of the room, as their legs would carry them. And they passed so far therein beyond the bounds of modesty, that his Excellency was somewhat moved thereat, and called out aloud unto them to be quiet, rebuking them with sharper words than ever heretofore he was wont to do, reprehending them for this their overboldness in his presence. Wherewith I was so ashamed, and so quite altered from that I was before, as if I had been sensible of the terms of honour, or had some signs thereof still remaining in me.  
O how many things doth Rigour correct, which Love is not able to effect! 
It is good sometimes to fall into an error, that man may learn thereby to take better ●…eed hereafter.  O, how much doth it import oftentimes, for to take a good fall, that a man may the better learn to look to his feet hereafter, and to know how to walk more steadily, and more surely! Then did I take notice of mine own deformity, in that glass did I see every spot that I had about me; and was so quite dashed out of countenance, and so confounded in myself, that for all the Masters, and women that were in the world, I would never more take upon me to treat of their Love-matters, nor be a Broker in that kind for the greatest Prince in Christendom. O, what a brave resolution was this, if it would have held!  
The storm being now laid, my Master remained very sad, leaning his cheek on his hand, and his elbow on the board, holding his Picktooth in his mouth between his teeth, being much discontented, that these things of mine should run on in that manner, that he must be forced to do that, which he never thought to have done; how-beit it was requisite for him so to do, for the avoiding of a greater mischief; seeing himself now so far engaged, that he should give some notable touch to his Reputation, if he should declare himself in my defence; especially, considering that men's servants are the real and true mark of what goodness and fineness is their Master's cloth. He willed me to get me down to dinner; And from that time forward, neither I, nor any of my fellows did for many days together, see his countenance so cheerful, nor find his tongue so affable, as heretofore it was wont to be.  
Now I durst not go (as before) out of doors, but by night. So that all day long I kept myself close in my Chamber, spending my time, either in reading good books, or playing upon some Instrument, or talking with my friends. Insomuch, that this retiring of myself, wrought in those of the house a new respect; and in those abroad, silence; and in myself, another course of life, differing from that which I led before.  
Now every man's tongue was still, and now by absenting myself from their sight, all these my businesses were forgotten, as if they had never been. The Young man came often to visit me, that had taken my part, when I was so vilely mocked and abused by the Boys. He made me many offers of his Purse and his Person; he acquainted me with his Country, his Name, and the cause of his coming to Rome, which was to get a Dispensation of his Holiness, and that he had spent therein a great deal of money and time, and yet was as far from effecting his business, as the first hour that heeset foot in that City. I held myself bound to do him all the good offices that I could to further this his pretention, giving credit to all that he told me. And because I did desire, that some fair occasion might be offered, whereby I might repay part of that debt, wherein I stood bound unto him; I entreated him, that he would acquaint me with his business, and I would petition my Lord Ambassador in his behalf, and negociate it with all the speed I could. He returned me many thanks for this my kind offer, and told me that he had now hit into the right path, wherein he was to walk, and that he had now very good and assured hopes to bring his purpose to pass. But in case this course should fail him, whereinto he had now put himself, he would then entertain that courtesy whereof I had made him so willing a tender. And thus we passed the time a while in compliment, giving and taking by turns some Ceremonies of Courtship, till at last he asked me, whether I would take the pains to walk along with him to the Palace? I excused myself unto him, and told him the cause why I had retired myself, and how well it sped with me; for by my not going abroad, mine own mind was now quieted, and the noise and hurry of the Town very well allayed.  
This young fellow was as very a Wag as myself, much of my age, and his Beard (like mine) newly budding forth; he presently caught hold of these words, as those, which he most desired to hear to come from me; and when I had herein satisfied his longing, he said thus unto me:  
Senor Guzman, you have carried yourself with that discretion, as is proper unto you, and may truly be termed your own. And I hold this for as good and sure a remedy, as I find it difficult for you to put it in practice, and to make continual use of it; For sometimes such necessary occasions represent themselves unto us, that men are enforced, whether they will or no, to break these their firm purposes, and religious resolutions. If I, Sir, were in your case, rather than I would be thus mewed up, and for so long a time, I would wear out this disgrace by travelling abroad, rounding all Italy, before I would return. In which your travel, you shall not only take singular content, but you shall likewise obtain your intended end, and with more advantage, than you can possibly pretend, by this your private shutting 
Travel yieldeth much delight.  up of yourself in your Lord's house. For Time and Absence, wear out all things, and are the best Physicians that can be found for such kind of diseases as these.  
He went likewise leading me along with the relation of diverse and sundry curiosities, presenting unto me the great excellencies of Florence, the beauty of Genoa, and the incomparable government of Venice, and other things of great delight, which did so dispose me to undergo this course, which (after that he had taken his leave of me) wrought so upon me all that night, that I could not take any rest, nor think upon any other thing. Me thought, that I had already plucked on my Boots, and put on my Spurs, and that I was now onward on my way. Whereupon I got me up as soon as it was day, and brought my Lord his clothes; to whom, while he was making him ready, I gave an account of this my resolution. He liked very well of it, holding it a commendable, and an honest course, that it would make much for my good, and stop all those mouths, that were now so clamorous against me. He then told me, what others 
A loving Master, what manner of man he it.  had said of me; and that, which he sat musing on at board, when he showed himself so sad how he was then beating his brains about my good & how much he did desire to see me well accommodated, for the great affection that he bore unto me, and that he had set his wits a-work for me; but seeing that mine own invention had hit so well; he told me, that if I had a mind to go into France, I should have Letters of recommendation to his friends there in my favour; or if that I should make any other choice to my better liking, he would not be wanting unto me, but deal well and worthily with me, as one that had done him true and faithful service.  
I had a great desire to have gone into France, for the great state and Majesty that I had often heard of that Kingdom, but much more of that their noble and renowned King; But things were not then in that case that I could conveniently execute my longing. I kissed his hands, and thanked his Excellency for these his favours towards me; and told him, that (if it might stand with his good leave and liking) I was very desirous to travel first thorough all Italy, and especially see Florence, whereof I had heard such large commendations; and from thence go to Sienna, where Pompeyo did then reside, one that was my especial good friend, and well known to his Lordship, for we did ordinarily converse together by our Letters, though we had never seen one another. Which correspondence had knit a strict knot of friendship between us.  
My Master was very glad of this motion; and from that day forward, began to set things in order for my journey. Purposing with myself to make hereafter a new Book, washing away by my virtues, those spots, which Vice had stained me with all.   

CHAPTER VIII.  
Guzman de Alfarache, discourses of Deceit. He departs from Rome. He desires to see Sienna, where certain thieves meet with his Trunks, which he had sent away before, and rob him of all that he had.  
THat most famous Philosopher Seneca treating of Deceit, 
Seneca's saying, touching deceit.  (whereof we have said somewhat already in the third Chapter of this book, though all that shall be spoken thereof, will be too little) in one of his Epistles saith; That there is a deceitful kind of promise, which is made to the Fowls of the air, the Beasts of the field, the Fishes in the waters, and men themselves upon earth. Deceit comes unto us in that submissive kind of manner, in solowly, and so humble a fashion, that they that do not know her, may be condemned of ingratitude and incivility, if they do not set wide-open the gates of their soul, and run out to receive her with open both arms and heart. And for that the art thereof, which is now a days 
The nature of deceit.  professed, the studies, the watchings, and the diligences, which are used therein, are all done with a double mind, and set themselves a-work with a false intent; by how much the more the thing that is treated of, is in its nature of that quality, that we may therein easily commit many errors, that may turn much to our prejudice, by so much the more secret subtleties, crafty Counter-minings, cunning Stratagems, strong Artillery, and warlike munition, she fortifies herself, furnishing herself with all necessary provision, when she means to come into the field. And therefore we 
It is better to be deceived, then to deceive.  need not so much to wonder, that we are now and then, but that we are not always deceived. And the case standing so, I hold it a less evil, to be deceived by others, then to be the Authors of so sacrilegious a sin.  
Amongst other things which King Don Alonso would (who was surnamed the Wise) in-discreetly reform in nature, this was one amongst the rest; that he did blame her, that she had not made a Window in man's breast; that we might see that, which he was plotting in his heart, and whether his manner of proceeding were fair and sincere, or whether his words were feigned, or whether (like janus) he had two faces under one hood? And the cause of all this, is Necessity; for if a man find himself laden with obligations, and 
Necessity makes men bold.  knows not how to ease himself of them, he goes about to seek all the helps and means he can, to lighten himself of this load, and to come off as handsomely as he can. Necessity teacheth us the way to all this, and makes the hardest and most untrodden paths, to appear even, and easy to be hit. It will break thorough the thickest Briers, and clamber up the roughest and steepest Rocks. It is in its own nature (as is before mentioned in our first chapter) full of daringness, and of Lying. And for this cause, even your simplest 
Birds and Beasts seek to deceive.  and most innocent Birds have their tricks and their subtleties. The Dove flies with a strong and swift wing, seeking food for her tender young ones, whilst another of her own kind, from the highest top of some one Oak or other, calsher, and invites her, that she will entertain herself there awhile to ease and refresh herself, and only to the end, that the cunning Fowler may come the more conveniently to make his shoot, and kill her. The poor harmless Nightingale, in a wild and careless fashion, goes thorough the Woods sweetly thrilling forth her lovesick complaints, when lo, another Bird of the same feather, that is clapped into a Cage, awaking new jealousies, deceives her with a false call, and brings her into the Net, by means whereof, she becomes a perpetual prisoner during her life.  
Auianus the Philosopher tells us in one of his Fables, that even your Asses 
The tale of an Ass, that sought to deceive.  have also a mind to deceive, and he maketh mention of one, that had put on a Lion's skin, to make all the rest of the beasts of the Forest afraid; who being sought after by his Master, when he saw him in that kind of clothing, not being able therewith to hide his huge long ears, he presently knew this his Ass, and sound basting his back and sides with a good cudgel, and stripping him of his counterfeit skin, he remained as very an Ass as he was before.  
Of all creatures living, there is scarce any one, but will, for the effecting 
All use deceit.  of his purpose, use some deceit against him, who is careless thereof, and thinks not on it; As is expressed in that Impress, of a Snake that lay asleep, 
An Impress of the Snake, and the Spider.  and a Spider, that came secretly down for to nip him by the head, and strike his poison into him, and so work his death; whose Motto speaks thus: No ay prudençia, que resista all engano. No wisdom can withstand deceit. It is folly for any man to think, that a wise man can foresee, and prevent those deceits, which like so many Traps and Gins, are laid in his way. I was not so circumspect, as I should have been, I suspected no treachery, I received good 
The qualities of a cunning thief.  deeds, I heard good words, I saw a man in an honest and fashionable habit, who sought to give me good counsel, and seemed to favour me, who had put his life in danger, to save mine, who visited me (as I thought) without any hope of interest, or particular profit to himself, not being able to fasten upon him (so unwilling did he ever seem to receive any courtesy from me) so much as a Cup of cold water. He told me, that he was my Countryman, an Andaluzian, borne in the City of seville, a principal Gentleman of the house of the Sayavedras, and one of the noblest, the ancientest, and best qualified 
Sayavedra, a notable thief.  of all that Family; and who, from one of such a quality, would have suspected such deceit? But all were lies that he told me; for he was of Ualençia, whose name, for some just causes I conceal; but he spoke the Language of Castille excellent well, and had the true tone thereof, that it was not possible to discern him to be other. He was a handsome well-favoured young man, well spoken, of a fair behaviour, and a fine Companion in his conversation; Who would have once suspected, that he should have proved such a Coney-catching Rascal, and that with such ceremonious and feigned friendship, he should thus deceive me? But all this cunning carriage of his, was but like a Peacock's dressing, making this so fair a show, that thereby he might the better deceive me, & that he might have the freer access into my Lord's house, and into my Chamber, to filch from thence whatsoever he could handsomely finger. I had no mistrust of him in the world, but rather held him so honest a man, that I durst have pawned my life for his truth.  
He came the other day to visit me, and finding that I had altered my habit, 
Sayavedra visits Guzman, only that he might rob him of that he had.  and put myself into another kind of fashion of clothes, differing from my wont wear, he startled and stood afterwards as one amazed, not knowing what he might think of it, or what might be the cause of this change. At last he asked me the reason of this sudden alteration? I told him, that I had taken his counsel, and that I was resolved to go to Sienna, where I should meet with Pompeyo, a great and entire friend of mine, and from thence to pass for Florence, and so afterwards to visit all Italy.  
When he heard me say so, he began to take fresh breath, and seemed to be very glad thereof, much commending this my resolution, and altering withal his own determination: for if his design until then, were only to seek out some fit occasion to steal thence an odd suit of clothes, some trifling jewels, or some odd pieces of Gold, not worth the talking of; having now heard this news of my sudden departure, no less would now content him, than my whole store. He was very diligent in observing how I did make up my Trunks, putting his helping hand thereunto. He marked where I had laid a set of Gold Buttons, a Chain, and other jewels that I had; and above three hundred Spanish Pistolets that I carried along with me. For my Lord Ambassadors house, being I did not now use to play, but to hoard up what Igot, yielded me, in the space of some four years that I served him, good store of money, what in gifts; what for good luck's sake, Gamesters bestowed upon me, when they had a good hand; what by Cards, which I was ever ready to furnish them withal, and what with other Presents, that now and then came unlooked for unto me.  
When I had locked, and maled up my Trunks, I laid the Keys upon my Beds-head, whereon Sayavedra had set his heart; for than did he desire nothing more, then to meet with some fit occasion, how he might come to the fingering of them, and find means to falsify them. And it fell out just, 
a The Spanish phrase is, A que quieres boca, That is, Darle todo lo que choir, y quanto pidierè. Covarr▪ Verb Boca.  as he would have it. For, as he and I were talking of my journey, and telling him that I purposed to send away my Trunks before, and that I would stay some six or seven days in Rome, to take leave of my friends, by which time they would be at Sienna, where I should find them ready for me, when I came thither; in that very instant there came one of my Lords servants unto me, and told me, that there were some beneath did inquire for me, and did much desire to speak with me. And because my Chamber was out of order, unswept, and not fit, by reason it was so foul, to receive any visit, I went down to see who they were.  
In the Interim, Sayavedra had opportunity to take the print of all my keys in certain pieces of some Wax Candles ends that lay about the 
Sayavedras' croft inccozening Guzman.  Chamber, if he had not purposely brought some along with him in his pocket. Those that sought for me, were certain Muleteers, or Carriers, which came for my luggage; they came up, I delivered it unto them, and they carried it away.  
This business dispatched, my friend and I continued talking together: and because he did not offer to go away, I thought he did it out of courtesy, and the friendship that was between us, and that it was out of his love to keep me company, for that little while that I was to stay. Whereas indeed he only stayed in Town, till these counterfeited keys were fashioned by the Smiths hand, and to make me to break my sleeps, as by and by I shall tell you.  
He continued his Visits with me for three or four days together: and when he thought he had made all cocksure, and that the Bird could not now escape his hand; he came one evening unto my Chamber, where he had not sat long, but that his face changed colour, and began to put on that feigned hue, which he was willing to give it, hanging his head in his bosom, making show as if he had been taken with a great pain in his head, an extreme Ache in his shoulders, a strange kind of sourness or bitterness of his mouth and palate, and above all, with a wonderful heaviness in his eyes, that he was scarce able to hold them up. He seemed to be as it were in a Lethargy, or the like drowsy disease; complaining, that he was scarce able to stand upon his legs, desiring me that I would give him leave to go home to his lodging. I was very sorry, and held it as a great unhappiness, that my Chamber was not fitted for to lodge him, and to give him that friendly entertainment, as my heart desired: Entreating him, (when I saw he would needs be gone) that he would acquaint me with his lodging, that I might come and visit him, and send him some physical curiosities, fit for sick folks, to relish his taste, and comfort his stomach, or that I might serve him in any thing else, wherein I might be useful unto him. He told me, that he lodged in the house of a certain Gentlewoman, that lived very secret and private; but in case this his sickness should not suddenly leave him, or that he should chance to grow worse and worse, that then he would advise me thereof, that I might come and visit him. And so taking his leave of me, 
Sayavedra rides Post to Syena, and finely robs Guzman of his T●…kes.  that very day he took Post, and road towards Sienna, where he found his Companions, that went along with the Muleteers, that they might see where, and to whom these Trunks were consigned.  
When he was come to Sienna, the people seeing a Gentleman come in that good equipage by Post, took him to be some principal Spantard. He alighted at the chiefest Inn that was in all the City, where presently his Companions came about him, who had there attended his coming, and giving it out that they were his servants, they waited diligently upon him.  
That very day, as soon as he was arrived, he sent one of them to Po●…peyo, to give him to understand, that he was newly come to Town. And when my friend had received this message, and knew that I was in the Town, he was so over-ioyed, that going to put on his Cloak, it was a good while, ere he could find the way to unfold it, and to set it right upon his shoulders. And he himself afterwards told me, that he first threw it one way, and then another; one while with the wrong side outward, another with the cape doubled in, and out of order, and in the end, when he could not hit the right, through his too much joy, he carelessly flung it only upon one shoulder, and in this unmannerly kind of manner, he came from home in all haste, stumbling and tripping in the streets, and sometimes ready to fall upon his nose, through his too much haste, and the longing desire that he had to see me.  
Being come to the Inn, where Sayavedra had put on my person, he took it very unkindly, complaining much, that I should make him such a stranger, and deal so unfriendly with him, as not to alight at his house, which I might command as freely as mine own. Which Sayavedra having excused as well as he could; they afterwards fell into discourse, talking of his journey, and some other things of Rome, until it was night.  
At which time Pompeyo, for the present, taking his leave of him, that he might leave him to his rest: Sayavedra gave (in his presence) the key of one of his Trunks, to one of his servants, saying unto him withal; Do you hear, Sirrah? Go you along with S●…n̄or Pompeyo, and take me out such a suit, which you shall find in such a part, for I will put on that to morrow.  
They went away together, and his servant punctually performed that, which his Master had commanded him; un-cording, in the presence of Pompeyo, the very selfsame Trunk, whereunto he was directed, and taking forth the foresaid suit of clothes, he locks me the Trunk, and putting up the key in his pocket, he comes his way. That night Pompeyo sent him a very good supper, a neat collation of Comfits, and sweet meats, and admirable rich Wines: Wherewith when Sayavedra and his fellows had supped, and had eat and drunk their fill, they got them to bed, where they so sound slept, that they did not wake till the next day.  
That morning Pompeyo came somewhat early to visit him; but his servants entreated him to hold their Master excused; for he had not taken any rest all that night, and was now newly fall'n asleep. He told them, he was very sorry he had so ill a night of it; he would not therefore now trouble him, but would go his way and come again anon. But they would by no means give way to that, telling him, that their Master would be very angry with them, when he should know that he had been there, and that none of them had either so much wit, or manners to tell him of it. Where-upon, they went presently up into his Chamber, and signified unto him, that Senor Pompeyo was come to see him. He was very glad of it, and commanding one of them to set ready a Chair for him, sent down another to intteat him to come up.  
Pompeyo, as soon as he came in, asked him how he did, and what was the cause of his last night's indisposition? He told him, that for want of use, he was so weary with riding Post, that he found himsslfe somewhat distempered, his body being overheated, and that he had a purpose to be let blood.  
Pompeyo was very earnest with him, that he would change his lodging, and take his house for his Inn. Sayavedra excused himself, telling him, that his servants were unruly, and given to disorder, and that he was resolved to put them away, and to take new within these eight or nine days, and that then he would promise him to receive this courtesy at his hands, which he had so kindly offered unto him: Entreating him in the mean while, that he would do him the kindness, as to send his Trunks by one of his own servants, because he had no great trust in any of his own; and fearing, that giving them the Keys to fetch such things as he needed, they might put some trick upon him.  
Pompeyo liked well of it, and thought that he did therein very wisely and discreetly, only he seemed not to be so well pleased, that he should treat of taking Physic in an Inn. But resting contented with the promise that he had made him, he performed what he desired, and was no sooner come to his lodging, but he laded certain Porters with his Trunks, and sending one of his servants along with them, he saw them safely delivered to Sayavedra. He sent him that day a very dainty dinner; and those two friends having taken leave of each other for that night, that they might go to bed in a good hour, Sayavedra and his Companions conveyed secretly into another house that which they had brought thither, and taking Post, departed presently for Florence; whither, when they were 
Sayavedra and his companions Post away to Florence, where they divide the Spo●…e.  come, they divided the spoil amongst them.  
These copartners with Sayavedra, were their crafts-Masters, subtle fellows, and stout Rogues; and the principal plotter and contriver of all these pilfering projects, was a Bolonian borne, he was a great Scholar, and a very learned Doctor in this kind of Art; his name was Alexandro Bentivoglio, the son of a Doctor in that University, who was a rich man, and a great projector, but of no extraordinary Discourse, but one that did build Castles in the air, and frame in his imagination mighty matters, and things of great entertainment.  
This man had two sons, in condition quite opposite, and contrary one to the other. The elder was called Uicencio, an ignorant young fellow, a silly Ass, the laughter of the people, with whom your Noblemen and Gentlemen made sport; he would bolt you out the famousest fooleries that could be devised: One while, he would boast his Nobility, another while his Valour; sometimes he would take upon him to be a great Musician, and then falling off from that, he would brag of his Horsemanship, and his Poetry; and above all, he would profess himself to be the only Enamorado, and perfectest Love-proficient in all the Country. So that of him, it might be said, Dexalas 
a Dexalas penen, is some phrase tending to that purpose, as I turn it; or some catch of a Song. I would be glad to be better informed.  penen. Suffer such to dye in their folly.  
The other was this Alexander, a notable Thief, nimble fingered, and of a strong and able body. Who, though he were well borne, yet was he ill bred, and for want of good education, became an excellent Vagabond, and a notorious Rogue, by keeping of evil company. This man's Companions, were other such like ruffianly fellows as himself. For like will to like; and all sorts of things have recourse to their proper centre.  
Now, because he was their Ringleader, and the only principal man amongst them, and that did all in all, he made Sayavedra content himself 
Ill company hurtful.  with a little, giving him some, but the worse sort of my clothes. And thinking that he could not remain there in safety, he got him into the Pope's territories, where his father was Alcalde. So that he posted to Bologna, carrying away with him the Buttons, the jewels, and the Pistolets, retiring himself home to his father's house. And the rest of his fellows, that shared with him, fled to Trent, as they afterwards told me in Bologna, and there they dispersed themselves.  
When Pompeyo returned to visit me, not finding my Statue there, nor any of his fellows, he asked mine Host of the house what was become of them? He told him, that the night before, they went away from thence with their Trunks, but whether they knew not. He took this for an ill sign; and suspecting what this might chance to prove in the end, used great and extraordinary diligences in the search of them; and having notice that they road Post by the way of Florence, he sent Hue and Cry after them, with a warrant to apprehend them. But leaving them to this their business: let me return now unto myself, and God grant, that in the mean while, they may have the good luck to meet with these thieves, and recover my lost goods.  
Those few days that I afterwards stayed in Rome, I was jocund and merry, and did not so much as once dream of any such roguery intended against me. And out of a great desire that I had, to know how my sick friend did, whether he had recovered his health, or were in worse case, then when he left me; I stayed four days waiting for him, but seeing he came not at me, nor sent unto me, I continued four days longer in Town, making inquiry after him amongst some of his Countrymen, giving them all the marks and signs, whereby they might know, or at least guess at the man, but this was to ask for 
a Preguntar por Entunes en Portugal. Where there is no such thing to be found. Guzma●… is sorry that he cannot see Sayavedra before his departure.  Entunes in Portugal, or to look to hear a Magnificat 
Pr●…erb.  at Matins, or to seek after the man in the Moon, for there was no such kind of thing to be heard of. All the diligences that I could use, were to no purpose. I did verily believe that he was very sick, if not dead. I likewise thought with myself, that since he had concealed his lodging from me, that the reason thereof was, because he had not a convenient Chamber to receive the visits of his friends. I did as much as lay in me to look him out: but when I saw it was all lost labour, and that I could not possibly hear any news of him, I left a large recommendation of my love unto him in my Lord's house, and so taking leave of my Lord Ambassador, I resolved the next day following to begin my journey.  
My Lord grieved much for my departure, clapped both his hands upon my 
The Ambassadors kind usage of Guzman at his departure.  shoulders, and taking a chain of Gold from off his neck, which he did usually wear, and putting it on mine, he told me, while he was doing me this honour; Guzman, I bestow this upon thee, that thou mayst, as oft as thou look'st upon it, have me in thy remembrance, as one that wishes thee all good. He gave me also, besides that which I had of mine own, good store of Crowns, which would serve conveniently to defray my charges for some reasonable while very well, and plentifully, that I needed not to want any thing that was needful and fitting for me.  
When he had thus furnished me, he laid his Command upon me, that 
How a servant should behave himself, to be beloved of his fellows.  where-soever I should hap to be, I should from time to time give him an account of my health, and how things did succeed with me, assuring me, that none should rejoice more in my well-doing, than himself; hoping, when I had made an end of my travel, to see me again in his house, whither I should always be most welcome.  
These his words and kind usage of me, favoured of so much love, and the advice and counsel which he gave me at this my farewell, was so sweet and so sound, and delivered with that tenderness, exhorting me to good and virtuous courses, that I could no longer hold from bathing my eyes with tears. I kissed his hand, kneeling on the ground; he bestowed his blessing upon me, and with it a good highway Nag. This done, down I went, got up, bid my fellow's farewell, and road my way, making use of this Nag in all my travel, which did never fail me.  
My Lord and his servants were ready to melt for the sorrow they had conceived of my departure. He, because he loved me, and saw he must now lose me, and would doubtless find a want of me for such services as I could best do him, and himself took most content in: And they, because, albeit my actions were ill for myself, and turned much to mine own hurt, yet were they never prejudicial to my fellows: and when occasion served (if they had been put to the trial) I dare swear they would have hazarded their lives in defence of my person, rather than they would have seen me take any wrong. I was always their good friend, never did them ill offices, told no tales of them, never nourished any quarrels amongst them, never crossed their pretensions with my Lord, or hindered them in those their suits, wherein they were interessed, but did further them all that I could; so that I was generally well beloved of them all. For by doing them these real courtesies, and in that free and friendly fashion, I could not but gain the greater love thereby, if not profit. For they were reckoned of by my Lord but as servants; but I was unto him, as if I had been his son: So that I received from them the commendation of a good brother, and from my Master, of a faithful servant. Insomuch, that neither my service dis-merited with my Lord, nor their friendship failed me at my need.  
And if that public fame which was spread abroad of me, touching that which so unfortunately befell me in Fabia's house, had not been diuulged abroad by that Aspine-leaued tongue of Nicoleta, who to as many gossips, and friends as she had in Rome, babbled forth the jest, which was put upon me by her Mistress in the back Court of her house, I had never forsaken that commodity, which I found in my Lord's house, nor his Lordship have lost so good a servant, who had so well and faithfully served him. See what mischief a wicked woman's tongue can work; who, without doing herself 
Much mischief in an evil woman's tongue.  any good (playing the tattling huswife) discredited her Master's house, and disordered ours.  
Let no man trust a woman with a secret, no (if it were possible) not the wife of his own bosom. For upon every light offence, that she may be revenged of thee, to pluck out one of thy eyes, she will be content to lose both her own; making of a little brack a great hole, and working thee much trouble upon small occasion.  
I went out of Rome like a Prince, well entreated, and better provided, having store of Crowns to spend abroad, till the dirt I had taken should become dry, and be rubbed out. For when such unlucky chances as these do light upon us, there is no such remedy for them, as Time and Travel to wear them out. Mingo never went abroad with more contentment, than I did now; I was gallant, rich, out of the gunshot of ill tongues; with a full resolution, never to return the same man I went forth, but like a new Phoenix, receiving fresh life from these my old ashes.  
I was now on my way towards my friend Pompeyo, who looked for me every hour, having provided for me a neat lodging, with a handsome bed, and Table, and all other furniture fitting thereunto. I came at last to Sienna, and enquiring after him, they directed me to his house; thither I came: I found him within, he received me. I cannot say whether more cheerfully, or more heavily, sometimes showing a joyful, sometimes a troubled countenance; not knowing either what to do, or what to say, concerning the forepast ill success of my Trunks. He was inwardly very sad, as well for the value of that I had lost, as also for the trick that was put upon him, and the ill account that he should make me of those my goods, which I had consigned unto him. He said never a word to me touching my Trunks, and would fain have kept it from me; but it was not possible. For I had purposed with myself, to show all my bravery the next day, and like the Peacock, proudly to jot it up and down the streets of Sienna, and for that purpose, requested him to help me to my Trunks, that I might change my clothes.  
Hereupon he was enforced to open all the whole business unto me, putting me in good hope, that there were such diligences used, and that good course already taken, that he did not doubt but that I should have all again, and lose nothing of that which they had thus cunningly stolen from me. I was struck with this blow to the very heart; and was thereupon so sad, as thou thyself wouldst have been, hadst thou been in my case, being thus stripped of all that thou hadst in a strange Country, far from thy friends, and forced to seek new, having but little store of money in thy Purse, and no more but 
Proucrb.  one suit of clothes to thy back, and two Shirts in thy Port-manteau. God deliver us from the hands of thieves and robbers, and from the frauds and deceits of wicked men. It was now too late to look after them; the harm was already done, but no remedy to be had. Que for çoso lo aveys 
a D●…rsela 〈◊〉 beaver. 1. dor does gusto, y dare un mal trago. Nadie diga, desta agua no beuer●…. Covarru Verb Bever.  the beaver, y no lo aveys de verter. Whether I would or no, I was constrained to drink of this cup; there was no avoiding of it.  
Well, when I saw how the world went, and that there was no help for it; I plucked up my spirits, set a good face on the matter, and drew strength out of weakness. For, if I should in public have expressed my grief, and made open show thereof, I might, in private men's opinions, been held base-minded, and a man of no metal; and might thereby have hazarded Pompeyos friendship. Nor, had I kept never such stir, never such a coil and ado about it, should I thereby have repaired my losses, or done myself any good by it.  
And therefore sound was that counsel; that we should encounter adversities 
Adversities stoutly to be withstood.  with a cheerful countenance. For thereby our enemies are overcome, and our friends recover breath.   

CHAPTER IX.  
Guzman de Alfarache, not recovering his lost goods, shrewdly complains of the small punishment that is laid upon thieves. Wherein he delivereth many things worthy the noting.  
THree days (according to the common saying) I continued booted and spurred, expecting what news I could hear from those, that had these thieves in chase, and whether they had had the good luck to find the tract of their footing, and so follow them upon the heat of that sent, till they had them in view, and should come to overtake them.  
While my friend and I were sitting at table, anon after we had dined, as we were talking of this misfortune of mine, and the cunning carriage of these thieves that had thus robbed me, I might hear a great trampling of the servants of the house and some others, who making haste up the stairs, came in and told us; We have him, we have him, the principal thief is taken, and the theft confessed.  
This put new courage into me, quickened my blood, and the tokens of my 
The joy of the heart, cannot but express itself in our looks.  inward content, showed themselves in my face. For it is not possible, that any man's heart should dissemble a sudden joy. Though it sometimes so happeneth, that excess of joy, doth suffocate the natural heat, and deprive it of its life. You might now have lighted a Candle at mine eyes, they did so sparkle, and were grown so quick; me thought then I was giving Albriçias to as many as demanded it o●… me, and that I ran with open arms to receive this welcome news. We rose up from the table, (where we sat talking before on this business) to go and meet and salute this Officer, that had been employed in this service, who (as if he had been no less affected therewith then myself) came towards me with his mouth full of joy, and having kindly embraced one another, I asked him how the world went? He told me, it was like to go well. Then I farther demanded of him, In what manner? He replied, that one of the thieves was taken, the rest he could not meet with, but that this would discover all.  
Thou hast haply observed, that when store of water hath been suddenly 
What the effects of sorrow are likened unto.  thrown upon quick burning coals, there hath risen up at that very instant a thick & sowltrie hot smoke, yielding almost such a steam of heat, as the coals themselves gave before they were quenched. Even in the like case did these his words leave me. For all those manifest signs of joy, which had before diffused themselves throughout my whole body, were quite quenched with the water of this bad news, and at that very instant, there was stirred up in me an infernal smoke of choler, which I had much ado to suppress; but because I knew it would not help me, I dissembled it the best that I could.  
Pompeyo called for his cloak, and went presently to the judge of the Court, to entreat him, that he would use therein the best diligences he could, (which was no more than was fitting to be done.) But all this did me no good. For, he neither denied the theft, nor confessed that he was in the fault. He said that the others had committed it, and that he was but their servant, and that they had only bestowed upon him one poor suit of clothes, which he sold and spent partly in Florence, and partly upon the way in his return to Sienna.  
And this is the common course of such kind of wicked people; They 
The condition of wicked people.  further, and favour each others evil works and counsels, but when they have wrought their purpose, and effected their intent, they forsake one another, leaving every man to shift for himself, some going one way, and some another.  
Upon this Confession, (because it was the first theft that ever he had been taken with, together with that which he had alleged in his own defence, and for those other considerations, which offered themselves unto the judge) he was sentenced to public shame, and afterwards to remain a banished man from that City for a certain time.  
Now while this business was a handling, one of Pompeyos servants stood diligently waiting there, expecting the issue of this business, that he might come and advise me thereof. And when he had his Sentence given him, as if he had brought my Trunks along with him, he came running up in all haste to my Chamber, laughing all the way as he came, and as jocund as a Pie, crying out aloud unto me; O Senor Guzman, laugh and be merry; the Thief that holp to rob you, is condemned to open shame, I saw him up on the Asses back, before I came away: if you will see him, hie you to the window, and look out quickly, for it cannot be longere he come. O, how much would I have given, that this Fool, this Blockhead, this Coxcomb had been mine own servant, and in mine own house, or in some other place, where I might have had my will of him, that I might have pumeld him about the pate, bobbed him about the nose, struck out the teeth of him, and beaten the jaw-bones of this Ass so sore, that he should not have been able for a month after to fall to his feeding. I was mightily out of patience at these his foolish words. O thou Traitor, (said I to myself) seest thou in what poor case I am, and in a manner quite undone, and dost thou go about to comfort me with such a poor satisfaction as this? I was ready almost to burst with choler; but even then, when it was in its greatest force, there did offer itself unto my remembrance just such another comfort as this; which was told me for a truth had passed in Scuill; which made my sides to tickle again with laughing, the very thought whereof, had made me quite forget my former anger. And this it was:  
A judge of that City, by especial Order from the supreme Council, 
Guzman telleth a tale of a stout judge, as a soobsh Attorney.  took a delinquent, that had been a famous falsifier of Deeds, had often counterfeited his Majesty's hand, and feigned many false Patents, by means whereof, he got a great deal of money in diverse parts, and at diverse times; for the which he was by the said judge, condemned to be hanged; notwithstanding that this Offender did allege for himself, that he was the Euangelio, a kind of Churchman, and therefore did appeal from his Sentence, challenging his privilege of being tried by the Ecclesiastical Power, as by his competent judge. But the judge being resolved, not to reverse his Sentence, being persuaded, that he likewise falsified these his Orders, stood to his tackling, and hastened the execution thereof, willing him forthwith to be led to the Gallows, commanding those that were to see the sentence executed, to hang him out of hand; charging them to let this be first done de facto, and he would answer the matter afterwards as well as he might.  
The Ecclesiastical Ordinary, was not in the mean while wanting on his part, using all the power that he had, to save this man from death, aggravating and heaping his Censures upon the judge, threatening him, that in case he proceeded therein, that there should Excommunications go out, and that in the Churches there should be Cessatio à Divinis. But being not able therewith, nor all that he could do, to hinder the Sentence; the Delinquent was brought to the Gallows, and when he was up upon the Ladder, and had the Rope about his neck, there came a certain Notary to the foot of the Ladder, who had solicited his business, and laying his hand upon his breast, said unto him;  
Sir, you see, all possible diligence hath been used, and not any one essential thing left out, that might make for you; but this (you see) will not hold water, nor do us that good we thought it would have done; For, as you may perceive, the judge (out of a wilful humour) hath proceeded de facto with you. But I vow and swear unto you (by that my Place and Credit, which I hold in the world) that he hath done you therein a most notorious wrong, and contrary to all Law and justice; but seeing it cannot now be otherwise, and that for the present there is no help for it, I shall wish you, Sir, to arm yourself with patience, and to take your hanging quietly: And put your trust in me: for I will stay with you to the last, I will not leave you till I see you hanged. And leave it to me, to right the wrong he hath done you.  
Consider now, I pray, and tell me, what comfort can it be to those men that are to suffer death, to hear such idle and foolish words as these to come from a man's mouth? What pleasure can that miserable wretch, that is forthwith to be hanged, take, that he hath left a good Solicitor behind him, to follow his business, when he is dead and gone? Me thinks, this poor Client that suffered, might very well have said to his Attorney, I should like it much better (Sir) that you would come up here and take my place, and give me leave to go and follow mine own business.  
To such a one as I, who was robbed of all that I had, and left so poor as I was, what credit or comfort could I take in it, to see a Thief ride upon an Ass, to have his hands bound, and his back whipped, and to be put to this open shame? Will his disgrace do me any honour? Or will the repeating either of the case, or his punishment, procure me means to live, or furnish me with those necessaries that I want? I got me out of that, into another Chamber, thinking upon the ignorance of these men, and the loss that I had sustained by those that robbed me; for that was the thorn that did so sorely prick and grieve me. And as I was thus discoursing with myself of diverse and sundry things, one while of this, another while of that: And amongst many other things, that I went examining with myself, one (amongst the rest) was: Of what small importance, and how light were these kind of punishments! For what shame 
thieves knew not what shame u.  can either be put into, or taken from a Thief, who hath no shame at all, nor makes any reckoning of it? And who, before that he begins to play the thief, doth resolve with himself to receive that punishment for his theft, whereunto he shall be condemned, and shall (by the Laws of the Land) be inflicted upon him? A thief (forsooth) shall rob a private house; and all his punishment must be, to walk his public Stations up and down the Town. A pretty piece of justice. For mine own part, I have no great store of wit, and less judgement, and therefore I know not well what to say against those Laws; which before they were made, I make no question, but they were well weighed and thought upon; and with sound and mature counsel ratified and confirmed. And that before their publication, they were throughly scanned, and approved by the general opinion of those, 
To carry a Felon through a City, riding on an Ass, and to whip him, and banish him the Town, is no fit punishment for him, but rather an encouragement to return to his former roguery.  that were learned in the Laws; yet notwithstanding it will not sink into my head, that this is a sufficient punishment for a Thief to lead him only through the City, for to do him shame, by making him a public spectacle to the people, or to banish him from thence. But it seemeth unto me, to be rather praemium, then poena, a reward, than a punishment. For thereby, in my judgement, they do nothing else, but secretly say unto him; My friend, you have hitherto made your benefit of our goods, and have made yourself merry at our cost. You shall now do well to get your living elsewhere, I pray therefore get you gone, leave off to do us any more harm, and go rob some other of our neighbours. I cannot be persuaded, that this mischief lies in the Laws, but in those that execute them; for that they are either ill understood, or not well executed. 
Wherefore banishment was first invented.   
A judge ought to understand and know, as well the man, as the matter for which he condemneth him. For banishments were not made for thieves that were strangers, but for the Citizens of the said City, the natural Inhabitants, and such as were noble, and well borne, whose persons were not to suffer any public punishment, nor affronts. And to the end that the faults which they committed, should not be exempted from punishment, therefore your Divine Laws did ordain these your banishments, which without doubt, was the greatest punishment of all other, that could be inflicted upon such kind of persons. For thereby they are enforced to forgo their friends, their Parents, their Kinsfolk, their Houses, their Lands, their ancient acquaintance, their Wives, and their Children, their pleasures, and delights, and their businesses both private, and public; being to go, they know not themselves whither, and to live and converse with they know not whom. Which was certainly a great punishment, and no less than death itself.  
And it was the permis●…ion of Heaven, and will of God, that he that made 
The first inventor of banishment, banished himself.  this Law, and was the first Inventer thereof, should be paid home with the same punishment that he had ordained for others, being banished himself by his own Countrymen the Athenians. Many were much grieved thereat, and endured a great deal of sorrow, accompanied with infinite inconveniences, and peril of their persons; and many of them likewise did take it no less heavily, then if they had suffered the bitter pangs of death.  
It is reported of Demosthenes, that famous Grecian Orator, and Prince 
Demosthenes' banished to his great grief.  of Eloquence, being banished by his Citizens, left his Country like a man in desperation, shedding many a sorrowful tear; and the more in regard that his fellow Citizens had so cruelly proceeded against him, considering that he had always protected, favoured, and defended them, both with his head, and his hand; his wit, and his strength; and therefore he did the more risent it, making these his troubles and afflictions to seem the more intolerable to be endured.  
And as he was wand'ring abroad in the world, it was his hap to come to a place, where he lighted by chance upon some of the greatest and mortalest 
Demosthenes' cherished by his enemies.  enemies that he had: Who then made no other reckoning with himself, but that they would surely kill him; but they did not only give him his life, and pardon all former injuries, but seeing him in this miserable and afflicted state, taking pity of him, they comforted him the best they could, treating him with all courtesy and kindness, and furnishing him with such things as were necessary for him in this his banishment. Which was, as it were, a throwing of oil into the flame; and the means of augmenting his sorrow, to see that he should be more kindly used by his enemies, than his friends, as did plainly appear, when being comforted by them in this his banishment, he returne●… them this answer:  
How would you have me to carry myself; how bear my banishment 
Demos●…henes his answer to his friends.  with patience; how not complain of my hard fortune, having so great cause, as I have to bemoan my mishap? Being that I am banished from that City, wherein I was borne and bred and am forced by you to seek my fortune in foreign Countries, where I meet with such enemies, that I doubt to find (and I shall account it a great happiness unto me, that I have made so good a purchase) the like friends elsewhere. They likewise banished Themistocles, 
Themistocles banished, and his saying.  who being graced more in Persia, then in Greece, told some private friends of his; Perijssemus, si non perijssemus. We had been undone, if we had not been undone.  
The Romans banished Cicero, induced thereunto by his enemy Clodius, 
Cicero banished. Publius Rutilius banished. He is recalled, but will not come home.  anon after that he had freed his Country from ruin. They did likewise banish Publius Rutilius, who was so valiant, and of that stoutness of courage, that afterwards, when those of Sulla's faction (who were the cause of his exile) would have reversed his banishment, he would not accept of this their fair offer, but said; I will make them blush for shame, by neglecting this their kindness; for by this means, they shall come to see their own error, and to acknowledge the wrong they have done me, by this their unjust persecution. They also banished Scipio Nasica, in requital of those benefits 
Scipio banished.  and good services that he had done them, in delivering them from the tyranny of the Gracchis. Hannibal the Carthaginian died in Exile. Camillus the 
Camillus' banished.  Romance, a man of that worth and valour, that it was said of him, that he was a second Founder of Rome, for that he had freed it from its enemies, when the whole State lay at stake to be won or lost; yet notwithstanding this meritorious Act of his, he was banished his Country.  
The Lacedæmonians banished their Lycurgus, though a grave and wise 
Lycurgus banished; b●…aten out with stones, and his eye shooken out. Solon and Thrasibulus banished.  man; and one that had made them very wholesome Laws for the good of that Commonwealth. Nor did they rest contented with this wrong they had already done him, but they threw stones at him, and struck out one of his eyes. The Athenians very impudently and unjustly banished their Solon, and confined him to the Island of Cyprus; as they did likewise their great Captain Thrasibulus. These, and infinite other the like were banished; and anciently they inflicted this punishment upon the noblest and principallest persons, as one of the greatest and grievousest punishments which they could impose upon them.  
I myself have known a thief, who because he was under years, and not 
A just punishment inflicted on a little young thief.  capable of greater punishment, having been oftentimes banished, but never went forth of his Country to finish this his Exile, and his thefts likewise being of no higher nature than matter of victuals, for his greater punishment, the justice commanded, that he should have a collar of Iron clapped close about his neck, which should be riveted so fast with an Iron pin, that it should not possibly be taken off, hanging thereat a little Bell, to the end that the ringing thereof, as oft as he did stir or move, might give the people warning to take heed of him. This may truly be called a just, and a witty-conceited punishment.  
Now, by this that hath been said, thou mayst know, how grievous a punishment banishment is to the good, and how ridiculous a thing to the bad: To whom all the world is their common Country; and who account that to be their Country, where they can best filch and steal. For wheresoever a thief comes, he enters into that place, as a new Comer, and unknown; Which is no small advantage for him, for the better exercising of his Office, the people not thinking any harm of him, nor suspecting him to be such a one as he is. I know not, how they understand this, who do punish them thus. It were the lesser evil of the two, to let them go among the people with the foresaid Choler and Bell, that men might beware of them; and not to send one thus abroad, where he is unknown, with letters as it were of credence, to rob all the world. No, no, this is no good course, it is not profitable for the Commonwealth, nor is there any policy at all in it, to do thieves so great a favour. But for every light theft, it is fit they should be sound punished: As to condemn them to the Galleys, to confine them to some Garrison Towns, and there to serve, and to inflict other the like punishments upon them, for longer or less time, according to the nature and quality of the offence. And in case they shall be of an inferior kind, and not deserving the weight of your heaviest sentence, I would have them branded, as the use is in other Countries, with a hot Iron in the shoulder, that may leave the print of the mark behind; whereby, upon the second theft they be taken with, it will plainly appear, what lewd livers they be. By this course they bear not only the mark about them, but the cause thereof. This will be accusation enough, to give in evidence against them, both what they are, as also their course of life. And I would have this re-incidencie and relapse of theirs to be severely punished. And many (I make no question,) this course being taken and duly executed, will for fear, turn over a new leaf, and that this their first correction will keep them in a great deal the more awe, lest the continuance of their lewd courses, might chance to bring them to the Gallows. This, and only this (I say) is justice; all the rest is Frutaregalada, delicious Fruits, and minister only occasion to your Escrivanos', to be as arrant thieves as they; and I know not whether I may be so bold to say, that they are willing to set them free, that they may go abroad, and steal afresh, whereby they may afterwards have occasion to take that from them, which they have stolen: and so of the two, prove the greater thieves. But I will hold my peace, and harp no more upon that string. For I am a man, and may err, and I have been already under their hands, and have suffered too much through their false dealing, and I know not whether I may chance to come again under their lash, and then they will use their pleasure upon me, and revenge themselves on me without controlment: for I know not who can hinder them, when they are disposed to work their will. My thief was freed, he had confessed, who were the principal Offenders, and which way they went; for which cause, as also that he had rounded the City on an Ass, and had been put to open shame, he was set at liberty; leaving me (poor man) in the wretched prison of poverty: Where I must now take my leave of you, and bid you all Good night. To morrow morning, if you be desirous of the rest, and would fain know, what in the end was the issue of this business; you shall have it with all my heart, which I shall truly and faithfully deliver unto you.   
FINIS.   

THE ROGVE: OR, THE SECOND PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE. THE SECOND BOOK.  
Wherein Guzman de Alfarache, treateth of that which befell him in Italy, till he returned into Spain.  

CHAPTER I.  
Guzman de Alfarache, leaves Sienna, and goes for Florence. He meets with Sayavedra, whom he takes into his service. And before he comes to Florence, he recounts unto him on the way, many admirable things concerning that 〈◊〉. And when he was arrived there, he shows him all, that was worth the seeing.  
PHOTION (a famous Philosopher in his time) 
Photion, and his poverty.  was so poor, that though he took a great deal of pains, he could hardly get wherewithal to hold life and soul together. Whereupon, as oft as any in the presence of Dionysius the Tyrant, 
Dionyfius the Tyrant.  and his mortal enemy, made mention either of himself, or of the manner and course of his life, he made a scoff and a jest both at it, and him, flouting at his poverty, and deriding his misery, thinking with himself, that he could not do him any greater disgrace, nor injure him more, then to mock at the meanness of his fortunes. As if he would have inferred thereupon, that if he had been a man of that great learning, as the world held him to be, he might therewith have gained bread to put in his mouth, and not needed to live in that want, as now he did.  
When this came to the Philosopher's ear, he was not only not grieved 
Photions' censure of Dionysius.  thereat, but laughing at this his folly, he answered him, that reported this unto him; It is true sir, that Dionysius says of me, in terming me poor, for I am truly so; but, I must tell you withal, that he is much poorer, than myself, and hath a great deal more reason to be ashamed of himself, if he shall but consider his own wretched estate and condition. For though I lack money, I want not friends: I abound in the more, and fail in the less. But as for 
Friends are the greatest treasure.  him, though he be rich in money, he is poor of friends. For I know not any one that he hath. This Philosopher could not satisfy himself better, nor with a righter or fuller blow hit out his eyes, then by styling him, hominem sine amicis; A man, that had not so much as one friend in the world, that he could truly say, was his friend. And albeit, it oftentimes so falleth out, that they are 
How friend▪ are often got, and kept.  purchased with money, and that this is a principal means to win and wedge them unto us, yet this Tyrant had never yet the wit either to get or keep them. And it is no wonder, that he should, of all other, want them. For he, that says friend, says (in that one word) Goodness, and Virtue; comprehending in that all the good, that speech, or thought, can reach unto. Whosoever therefore shall desire to conserve friendship, and to continue in his friend's love, and that the bond of amity be not broken between them, must have a care, that his works correspond with his words. But Dionysius, being tyranny itself, and of too ill a digestion to keep friendship long, and his conversation being worse than his concoction; and for that friends are not so much gotten out of the greatness of our fortune, as our virtue; wanting that, he wanted them.  
For mine own part, ever since I had the use of reason, and knew what discretion 
He that hath friends, hath all things.  was, I made it my chiefest study, to get me friends, though at never so dear a rate, thinking no cost too much, to purchase so great a treasure. They seeming unto me (as indeed they are) our greatest helps and comfort, as well in prosperous, as a duerse fortune. Who doth enjoy the content of contents, but he that hath true friends? What doth so much lengthen and preserve our peace, our life, our honour, and our wealth, as to see our friends to joy with us in our prosperity? And in adversity, from whom, but from them, can we find any refuge, kindness, comfort, help, and a fellow-feeling of our miseries, as if they were their own? A wise man, aught to want all whatsoever goods, rather than good friends. For they are better than our nearest kinsmen, or our 
Friends better 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or ●…thers.  own natural brothers.  
Of the qualities, and conditions of friendship, many have spoken much (and one day, God willing, we shall say something thereof:) but in my opinion, where friendship is professed, there must be all true and plain dealing, and such a fair and even carriage, that it neither lean to alteration, nor give any offence, nor cause any trouble, nor to adventure (through our rasn and inconsiderate actions) the losing of a friend. Two friends ought so to love one another, as each of them doth severally love himself. For that I, and my friend, are as it were all one. And as you see, how quicksilver dealeth with 
True friends what they are like.  gold, how close it adheres unto it, how it works itself into the very entrailes and bowels of it, and being two diverse metals, are so incorporated, that they become but one mass or lump, nothing in the world being able to sunder and divide them but the pure fire of the furnace, wherein the quicksilver is consumed: So a true friend, who is now become another man's self, and by an intermixture of their hearts and minds made as it were one selfe-same thing, nothing ought, nor can indeed dissolve this union, but death, which is the Chrysoll, wherein we must at last be all melted one after another.  
Man aught to make the same choice of their friends, as they do of good books. For their happiness consists not neither in the greatness of their 
How to make choice of our friends.  number, nor the curiousness of their binding, but rather to have a few, and those good and approved Authors. For oftentimes, it so falleth out, that many friends are rather a hindrance, than a help to true friendship: For he is a friend to none, that is a friend to all. Nor are we to choose a friend for our entertainment only, and merrily to spend the time withal, but to make choice of such a one, as may benefit both our soul, and our body: one that without respect of humane interest, will advise him to observe the divine precepts. Not only to represent them unto him, but to speak to the purpose, to admonish him to the observation of them, and to instruct him in the true knowledge of them. And if he be called a true friend, who merely out of friendship, tells his friend the naked truth without masking or disguising it, not as to a third person, but as to one, that is properly his own, and as freely as if he should treat of any thing belonging to himself, or that he himself would desire, his friend should say the same to him, on the same occasion, of which sort of friends, that carry that sincerity and plainness with them, few are now a days to be found, in whom a man may have that assured confidence, and entire satisfaction.  
Then questionless (and that with very good reason) a good book is a 
Books, true friends.  good friend; nay I dare boldly say, there cannot be a better. For from thence, we may draw that utile & necessarium, that good and necessary counsel, which we stand in need of, without incurring the shame, of that vain and idle humour, which is too common now a days, to be rather content to continue still in ignorance, then by ask the question, to seem to doubt of any thing. But to books, we may boldly put the question, and never need to be afraid, that they will bewray our ignorance: And besides, we shall receive this satisfaction from them, that they will faithfully, without flattery, deliver us their opinion. And this one advantage (and it is a notable one) books have of friends: That our friends, dare not always tell us what they think, and know; for fear of particular interest, or out of tenderness to offend (as we shall by and by briefly tell you) their friends. So soft a hand hath Love, when it comes to touch, where it loves. Whereas on the contrary, the counsel that is given thee in books, is downright and plain, and stands before thee stark-naked, as bestript of all manner of vice. And therefore (these things considered) it hath ever been held one of the hardest and difficultest things in the world, to find out a true and faithful friend.  
Of which sort, many are spoken of in ancient stories, and we find a great number of them recorded of old, and painted forth unto us in your feigned fables; but that there either now are, or have been such heretofore as are there deciphered unto us, I doubt it very much, at least I am fully persuaded, they were very rare and few. One only friend have I found to be true, and is 
One only friend. And what that friend is.  of the same nature and condition, as we are. And this friend of ours, is the best, the bountifullest, the truest, and the faithfullest of all other; for this is never wanting to its friend, but continues firm and constant for ever, nor is at any time weary of giving: And this good friend of ours, (that I may not hold you any longer in suspense) is the Earth.  
This affords us precious stones, gold, silver, and diverse other metals, whereof we stand in need, and so earnestly thirst after. It bringeth forth grass, and 
A commendation of the Earth, and i●… faithful love, and true friendship.  all sorts of herbs, wherewith are not only fed our flocks of sheep, our cattle, and other beasts for the use and service of man, but those medicinable simples, which conserve our health, free us from diseases, and if we fall into sickness, set us upright again, preserving this life of ours, in a sound and perfect state of health. It yieldeth us all sorts of fruits, that are either savoury to the taste, or nourishable to the body. It gives us wool, and flax, and by consequence, all kind of woven stuffs, wherewith we cloth, and adorn, this naked flesh of ours. It opens its own veins of its own accord, whilst from its f●…ll breasts, sprout forth those sweet and delicate waters, which we drink; those brooks and rivers, which get the fields with child, and make them fruitful, and not only that, but doth facilitate commerce, and make an easy way for traffic, bringing the strangest and remotest parts of the world to shake hands, and to communicate their commodities one with another, and to live in a league of love and friendship together. Nay more, it is so good, and so sweet a friend, that it suffereth, and willingly consenteth to all that we will ourselves. Be she well or ill used by us, all is one to her, so as we be pleased. She is like a sheep, from whom you shall hear no other language, but Omnia bene: All is well. Lead her forth to feed, or bring her to the waters to drink; shut, and pen her up, or let her lose; take her lambkin from her, her milk, her wool, nay her very life, to all she always answers bien: all is well. And all that bien, or good that we have on earth, the Earth gives it us. And for an upshot of all, when we are now dead, and lie stinking above ground, when there is neither wife, father, son, kinsman, nor friend, that will abide and endure our company any longer, but do all of them utterly forsake us, and fly from us; then, even then, doth not she refuse us, but hugs us, and makes much of us, and opening her own womb, takes us in unto her, where we quietly lie, as it were in deposito, till she render afterwards a faithful account of what she hath received, and delivers us up to a new and eternal life. And amongst many her other excellencies, one of the worthiest things in her, and deserving most commendation, is; That she doing so much for us, as she doth, and that so continually and without ceasing, being so generous, and so franke-hearted, that she is never tired out, never grows weary, yet doth she not look for any requital, she neither asks, nor expects any return of kindness, nor doth she talk and tell of it, nortwit thee in the teeth with it; which some kind of friends, more usually, then commendably, do.  
Amongst so many friends, as I had, and did daily converse withal, I found very few, who had not an eye to the north-star of their own proper interest, and shaped their course by the Compass of their own private ends; having only a desire to deceive, not having any respect at all to the friendship they professed, being devoid of all love, truth, and shame: I was of an easy and tractable nature, my condition was facile and ●…pt to be misled, their tongue was all honey, but their heart was very gall itself: whose bitterness, I had too often tasted to my cost.  
Considering therefore the falsehood that now adays is used in friendship, and men's crafty and subtle carriage, we are not so much to wonder that we are; as, that we are not deceived. For I find them, as liberal in promising, as niggardly in performing; as facile in their words, as difficile in their deeds. There are now no more Pylades, nor Orestes; they are dead and gone; and with them, almost the remembrance, that there were ever any such kind of men. I only speak this for my Pompeyos sake; whom I therefore condemn the more, for that I loved him more than any other, and took him to be my especial friend. For, most of my friends, I gained by my words, but this man, I presumed I had purchased by my deeds. When I was in my prosperity, I had many friends, all men did desire my love, made much of me, feasted me, and did offer their service unto me: But my moneys failing, they also failed; so that their friendship, and my money had an end at once. 
The greatest misery that can befall man in this life.   
And as there is no misfortune, that toucheth us so near, as to call to mind the happy estate, wherein heretofore we did live; so there is not any sorrow, that equals that, of being forsaken by those friends, whose love and friendship we did ever desire to conserve. That little wealth that I had, was stolen from me, which was my undoing. I continued some days (though but a few) in my friend's house, how beit he thought them too many; in which short time, he fell off from me by degrees, by a little and a little unwedging himself from me, and unloosing those knots, which had knit us in friendship together; finding at last, that I had but a slippery eel in my hand, who when I thought 
A feigned friend, compared to an Ecle.  I had surest hold of him, slipped when he saw his time from me, leaving my hand empty. He was a Cordovese, in the freeness of his offers; and would say unto me after that we had dined; Sir, is there any thing else, that you would be pleased to command? If there be, I pray Sir make as bold of any thing this house affords, as if it were your own. But these were but general words, and matter of compliment; for he went not upon certainties, nor promised me any thing, that I might trust unto, but did rather seem to proffer this his kindness doubtfully and fearfully, lest I might chance to take him at his word. And that little courtesy, which he showed me, was not so much out of any hearty good will, that he had to do it, as for fear lest I should seek to recover my lost goods of him, by course ofLaw.  
I read his thoughts in his looks: And as mine were always noble, so on the contrary, his were base and vile. And as oft as he spoke of my loss, if he used any compliment with me, it was all dissimulation, and counterfeit stuff. Well, whatsoever it were, either better or worse, I was much offended at it, and thought that he did me therein a great deal of wrong, and did seriously risent this his double dealing, and these fair but false shows of his love. But he, on the other side, did as earnestly persist in the pursuit of his simulations, as if he had meant nothing less, then to play upon me, and abuse me; or as if they had some ground of truth with them: And because I stoutly stood to it, and bore out this business as well as I could, that he might not perceive any dejectedness in me, he took heart thereupon, and made sleight of it, as a matter of little, or no importance. For the loss was mine, and not his; and therefore he made the less reckoning of it.  
Wherefore, that I might not give him farther trouble, perceiving how much perplexed he was, and how willing to be rid of me, I resolved with myself to free him of that fear, and to go for Florence. I imparted this my purpose unto him, telling him, that I much desired to see that City, for the great commendation, that I had heard of it, and those famous sights that were there to be seen. And because this my determination suited with his desire, he took hold on this occasion, relating unto me many memorable things, worthy my sight, wherewith my will was the more inflamed, and the desire which I had to see it, much increased. But he did not do this so much, to commend it unto me, or out of any good desire, that he had, that I should see it, but only that he might see me no more in his house; and for that he is an unwelcome 
a Es tr●…ste hu●…ped, el de por fuerça.  guest, 
Proverb  that is a man's guest against his will. After that I had thus broken my mind unto him, he began to blow the wind afresh of his kind usage of me, that he might oblige me thereby to get me the sooner out of his house, and to depart from thence peaceably and quietly; for he was not a little afraid of me. He 
Proverb.  then signified unto me, how sorry he was that I would needs be gone; but used no entreaties, nor any the least resistance, to have me to stay. He demanded of me, when I was minded to begin my journey, but never asked, what I wanted; which he might have done out of good manners, though he had no meaning to pleasure me. Which proffer, had he made it me, it should not have been performed by him so much out of compliment and ceremony, as that he might thereby learn, how long, or how little a while I meant to stay with him, not knowing as yet the hour, when I me●…nt to be gone. It is an easy 
b Facil cosa es, el ver; y mas lo es, el hablar; pero muy dificultoso es proveer.- No conocen todos los, que miran, m●…los que hablan, hazen. Manymake reckoning of their friend, no longer than they have need of him. And when he can serve his turn no longer, he turns him off.  thing, to see; more easy, to speak; but it is a hard thing to foresee. For all that see, do not know; and all that speak, do not do. And for that he now saw, that he should have no farther need of me, for that I like a fool, told him ere I was aware, that I was not minded to return any more to Rome, he began to cast with himself, What good can this coxcomb do me now? or of what use and profit will this fool be unto me hereafter? And so from that time forward, he used me accordingly, which was no worse, than mine own indiscretion deserved. Then did I learn to my cost, how a man may come to know a generous and noble mind; which is seen in nothing more than in a thankful acknowledgement of benefits already received.  
In this alteration of fortune, there were set before mine eyes a thousand dangers, that I never dreamt of. But because I had as yet so much spirit left me, as was able to put me forward, I was not utterly dismayed, nor quite disheartened. I studied to forget that, which I could not help; making my means, the thinking on my journey. And because novelty, and things of a strange nature, do draw the minds of men after them, out of the desire that they have to know them, I made all the haste I could to get me gone from Sienna, as well out of this respect, as also that I might leave Pompeyo well pleased therewith; who, I knew, would never think himself well at ease, till he were well eased of me. For albeit men commonly say to their guests; I pray fall to your meat, and be merry, for I assure you, you are heartily welcome; yet whether you be merry, or not merry, welcome, or not welcome, they think you are bound unto them for a meal's meat, and put every morsel to account, that goes down thy threat.  
This hoggishnesse of his, this his uncivil carriage, this dissembled care of his, and this his great fear that he had, that I would continue longer with him, did much trouble me. Well, I took my leave of him; and because I was still the same man, as I was wont to be, as also in regard of that love and friendship, which I truly bore unto him, at the time of this our departure each from other, I did so grieve thereat, that I was not able to speak a word, no not so much as to bid him, farewell; yet could not this my inward sorrow, draw so much as one tear into his eyes, or to make any the least show of grief. And so all alone, I set forward on my journey, but more than well accompanied with 
Guzman leaves Sienna, and goes to Florence.  a world of melancholy thoughts, nor slightly attended by a multitude of cares, wherewith I was so over-laden, that my horse was ready to sink under me, as unable to bear so great a burden. And therefore I road plotting and devising with myself, how I might make them lighter, and so case both myself and my horse of them.  
I had not gone thus musing many miles, but it was my hap to light on Sayavedra, 
Guzman meets with Sayavedra.  who had left Sienna to comply with his banishment. Whom I no sooner saw, but my kind heart began to melt, and I could not choose but take compassion of him, and withal I must needs salute him; placing my eyes, not upon the hurt, which he had done me, but on the harm, from which he once had freed me. Esteeming more of that kindness I then received from him, then 
Courtesies are to be returned with advantage.  of all that, that he had robbed me of. And he is a bad paymaster, and doth ill deserve a courtesy, who doth not with advantage requite a received kindness. Besides; Liberality, supposeth a generous and noble spirit, and is of that high esteem, for that it is originally descended from heaven, that it is always found in those minds, that are destinated thereunto. I could not for my life refrain from speaking lovingly unto him, nor he abstain from receiving me with tears, which guttring down his cheeks, dropped down upon my feet, as he bowed himself to kiss my stirrup, whereof he taking fast hold, fell down on 
Sayavedra asks Guzman forgiveness.  his knees, craving pardon for this his error, humbly and earnestly beseeching me, that I would be pleased to forgive him; rendering me likewise thanks, that during the time of his imprisonment, I never offered to accuse him; excusing himself also, that he had not, as soon as he was set at liberty, come to visit me, laying the fault thereof, in his lack of boldness, and the largeness of his offence. Yet, for to make satisfaction and payment of this his debt, he would become my slave, and do me faithful service all the days of his life; I, who ever knew him to be a man, that had both a strong brain, and a nimble wit, which d●… him rather hurt, then good, because he did not well employ them; yet, for that these did adapt him, and make him fit for any employment whatsoever, I was the more willing to accept of his offer. And so taking him into 
Guzman entertains Sayavedra for his servant.  my service, we jogged on along by little and little like a couple of good fellows, talking of diverse things on the way.  
And albeit I was not ignorant, that he was a notorious thief, and a notable cunning rogue, yet I held it the lesser inconvenience of the two, to have a knave, than a fool, to my man. For foolishness did never yet but walk hand 
Better to have a ●…naue, than a fo●…c, to ones servant.  in hand with wickedness. And both of them being joined together, are sufficient to undo not only a private house, but a whole Commonwealth. For the simple, or foolish man, cannot keep counsel, nor knows when and where to hold his peace; nor the wicked and malicious man, to judge of things a●…ght; and if either of them, uttereth what he thinketh, (for commonly their tongue blabbeth, what their heart conceiveth) scandals, and troubles are already entered within the doors of our house, and like impudent rogues, stick not to press into our privatest rooms, to see what they can get from thence. I thought with myself, if I would have any one to serve me, (good servants being so few, and so hard to be got) that this would be less b●…d than any other, because by those his cunning tricks, that he had played with me already, he made me the more wary of him, and taught me (●…s if I had been some Lacedaemonian) 
Proverb.  to throw my beard 
c Tract la barba 〈◊〉 el hombro Viv●… recatado, v con re●…e o, como hazen los que ●…enen evenugos, que van bolviendo el rostro, à un lado, y a o ro. de onde, naçio el re●…n. Covarr. verb. Barba.  over my shoulder: that is, to have an eye unto him, and to be the more circumspect and wary of him, and to take the better heed, looking still behind me, as those do that have enemies, turning their head one while this way, another while that, that they may not be set upon un-awares. And therefore knowing him so well as I did, I thought it as good, if not better, to entertain a knave that I knew, as a knave, that I knew not. For I knew well enough, that I must look narrowly to his water, and watch him at every turn, wherein I meant not to be negligent: Whereas, in taking of another, that should seem to bear the face of an honest man, and make show of being faithful and trusty unto me, I might haply grow careless out of the confidence that I have in him, and by this my credulity be cozened of all that I had, and afterwards be left to look after moonshine in the water.  
As well in this respect, as also for that I had not much now to lose, nor was my condition or quality such, that I should stand so nicely upon these points, I admitted him into my service. He asked me (as soon as I had entertained him) which way I meant to take? I told him, I was for Florence, led thither out of a desire that I had to satisfy my longing, by seeing that City, whereof I had heard ●…o much. Whereunto my servant replied, and said; Sir, whatsoever you have heard thereof, I make no question, when you come there, but yourself will confess, report hath been too short with you. For I assure you, there are so many admirable things therein to be seen, that they cannot sufficiently be commended. For the naked relations of things, that are curious and good indeed, never fill the vacuity and emptiness of our desires. I have lived there some time, yet all the while as I remained there, as if I had been but come that very day to town, wheresoever I went, new things were still offered to my view: and I would never with my good will have left that Town, if my friends had not forced me from thence.  
I began to ask him some questions, touching the foundation of that City, and whence it had its first beginning? Sir (said he) seeing we have day enough before us, and that we may talk and walk fair and softly, and that the relation, which I am to make you is but short; I shall, for the better satisfying of your desire, acquaint you, and that truly, with all those curiosities, that did then offer themselves unto my knowledge.  
Then did he forth with begin to discourse of those civil wars, which were 
Sayavedra discourses of F●…orence.  occasioned by Catiline, between those of Fiesole, and Florence; the o●…erthrowes, which one while those of the Roman faction received, another while their enemy, Bela Totile. How in the time of Pope Leo the third, the Emperor 
Leo 3. Pope.  Charles the Great, sent a great Army against the Fiesolani, leaving Florence re-edified in the hands of the Florentines, till that Pope Clement the seventh, and 
C●…olus Magnus Emperor. Clem●… 7. Pope. Charles 5. Emperor.  the Emperor Charles the fifth recovered the same, for to restore it to its ancient possession, from which the house of the Medics had been put out. Which succeeded in the year of our Lord, 1529. Ever since which time, the Florentines have always been governed by one sole Prince; which, though it seemed somewhat harsh unto them at the first, yet now they see their error, and find now at length how much more quietly they live under the protection of their own Prince, and with how much more safety, both of their lives and goods. It is said, that the first Prince, that ever they had, was Alessandro de Medici; who, for his sweetness of nature, his magnanimity, and valour, though violently he 
Alessandro de Medici.  lost that principality in the very flower of his youth, yet might he justly be termed Alessandro. After him, succeeded, that wise, and worthy Cosimo, great Duke of Tuscanie, whose memorial, for his heroical actions, and great virtues, 
Cosimo, great Duke of Tuscanie.  as also for his courteous behaviour, his religion, and good government, shall live eternally in the minds of the living. This Prince was succeeded by Francisco, who, for that he died without issue, the Crown came to that famous 
Francisco 2. Duke of Florence. Ferdinando 3. ●…eat Duke.  Ferdinando his brother, the lively image, and true picture of his father Cosimo, being as well heir to his Virtues, as his Estate. Who governed so worthily, and so wisely, that I do not know any other, with whom I may equal him, for the love that his subjects bore him.  
If th●… relation, he then made me, had been a little longer, he must of force have deferred it till the next day; but it seemed, that he had measured it out just with the time: for we were come as near night, as we were to our Inne●… whereinto we went to lodge. And having there well rested and refreshed ourselves, we got up betimes in the morning, and that we might the sooner get into Florence, we did set the best foot before, and made a little more haste, than otherwise we would have done. But when we came within sight of it, I was 
The beauty of Florence.  so over-ioyed, that I am not able to express it, so fair and so beautiful did it a far of present itself unto me. For though I could not take a full view of it, yet from the one end to the other, and from almost the bottom to the top, I might reasonably well discern it; and a more pleasing sight, did mine eyes never see. I did examine the pleasantness of its situation, I beheld the beauty of many great and goodly buildings, the inexpugnable strength of its stately walls, the majesty, and firmness of its high, and well form Towers. In a word, the whole pile thereof, seemed such unto me, that I stood amazed at it, and could not (me thought) too much admire it. I would not willingly, have moved out of the place where I stood, nor have drawn nearer to the Town, but have kept myself at that very distance; as well, for that mine eye was wonderful well pleased therewith, as also for that I would not wrong that delight, which I now received, when I should draw nearer thereunto; if peradventure (as it usually falleth out with most things) it should lessen itself, and fall short of that goodly prospect, which I did here enjoy.  
But, when I did consider with myself, that all this glorious show, was, but as it were the outward case of it, my judgement did then begin to instruct me, that the jewels therein contained, must needs be richer, and fair more glorious, as indeed they were. For, when I was entered thereinto, and saw the spaciousness of the streets, how straight and level they were, how plain and smooth, paved all with clean hewn stones of goodly fair marble, and their houses built with beautiful stones, so costly, so curious, so nearly polished, so artificially wrought, and with such a deal of skill and cunning, in the architecture thereof, I was so confounded, that I could not tell what to think of it. For I could not imagine with myself, that any other City in the world, could have compared with Rome for beauty: But having well viewed this, for its bigness, it goes far beyond it. For those buildings that are in Rome, the best of them are gone to ruin, and few of them left standing; and those that are now remaining, are but mere shadows, and the very ruins and fragments of those, that were so famous in former times. But Florence, is the flower of the world, all is therein so flourishing, so costly, and so well set forth, that I said unto Sayavedra; Certainly, if the inhabitants of this City be as curious in the tricking of their women, as they are in the adorning, and beautifying of their houses, they are undoubtedly the happiest men in the world. I was so strucken with admiration, that I was desirous to have dwelled a long time in contemplating and beholding every particular piece of building; but because night was now growing on, and that the day would not befriend us any longer, I was fain to retire myself to my lodging. And we were not slack in hastening to our Inn, whither when we were come, we were so neatly and so daintily entertained, that I cannot so much endear it, as it truly deserveth. Such plenty of provision, such cleanliness in their lodging-chambers, such sweetness in their linen, such diligent attendance, such affable language, and such good usage, did I never meet withal elsewhere in all my life. I was so taken therewith, that it made me almost to forget that which I most desired. I slept so sound that night (thanks to the good bed, that was under me) that it seemed unto me scarce half an hour, since my first lying down.  
When the morning was come, (though with a heart full of sorrow, for that was then my Mount Tabor) I called to Sayavedra, to give me my clothes; and for that he was so well acquainted with that City, I willed him to make himself ready to go along with me, that he might show me all, whatsoever was of any note, and held (as curiosities) to be worth the seeing. And that first of all he should bring me to the chief Church, where having heard divine service, and recommended ourselves unto God, all things would prosper afterwards the better with us. Thither he led me, and having ended our devotion, I stood like one amazed in beholding that most famous Temple and fabric del 
b Zimborio, es el hucco del chapitel.  Zimborio, which they there call 
c A high Arch, or round vault of any high Church or sleeple. The Cupuls' of Florence what a curious piece of building it is.  Cupula, which in my opinion, may be better termed Copula, for that it seemed not only to myself, but as many as beheld it, that therein was copulated, and joined as it were together, all that curious Architecture, which the writings of the best and skilfullest professors, in that profession, either theoric, or practice, have published to the world, so admirable a piece of workmanship, such a deal of greatness, strength, and curiosity, (without any wrong or injury to any other fabric of Europe) may justly challenge the name of the eighth wonder of the world. Let him consider with himself, who hath any knowledge in Architecture, it being four hundred and twenty handfuls high, besides the spire that is on the top of it, what 
d Diame●…o, of the Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Linea diemtiens, seu per medium secane, recta in longitudine ducta. It is a Geometrical term. The Annoncits of Florence, wonderful worth the seeing.  diameter, this Cupula will require; and by this he may come to guess, what manner of thing it is.  
From thence I went to the Annunciata, a Church so called, to see the image, that was painted there upon the wall, which might more properly be termed Heaven; so admirable a piece of work, is that picture of the Incarnation of the Son of God: Insomuch that it is held there for certain, that it was drawn by one, that was no less excellent in his Art, then holy in his life. For, when he had made an end of that which there you see painted, and that there remained no more to be done, but to finish and make up the face of our blessed Lady the Virgin; being wonderful timorous and fearful, much misdoubting and musing with himself, whether or no, he should be able to give it its true life, and to fit it every way in its age, in trueness of its colour, its complexion, in its honest and sober countenance, and in the demure and modest posture of its eyes, in this confusion of his, and these his distracted thoughts, not devising with himself, what he were best to do, he laid himself down a while to sleep, and awaking anon after, and minding to betake him to his pencil, and to put his hand (by the help of God) to the piece of work, he found it made to his hand. And therefore, it needs not our farther commendation, for it being to be presupposed, that it was there miraculously wrought either by Gods own hand, or some one of his Angels, it can be said to be no less, than an Angelical picture. And for this cause, the rest of that piece being considered, which the Painter made, we may easily conceive, what kind of spirit he had, who could find so much favour, as to have the hands of heaven (as if for the time, they had been bound prentices to his Trade) to help him to grind and mix his colours, and to make an end of his work for him.  
So many miracles doth it daily work, such a concourse of people doth continually flock thither out of devotion, and so great are the alms, that are there distributed & given to the poor, that I did much wonder, that all the beggars were not wondrous rich; which put me in mind of that poor man, who (as I was told, and you have heard) made in this City, that his famous last Will and Testament, wherein he bequeathed his Asses packsaddle to the Great Duke; That seeming now unto me but a little small sum, in comparison of that, which such a one as he, might very well have gained in that place. And for that it is a known truth, Que el hijo de la gata, ratones mata: That the son of a Cat, will kill his Rat. Or (as our English Proverb hath it) Cat will to his kind; a thousand, and a thousand times, did I bethink myself of many things that I had done in my younger days, and did now as it were plainly perceive; that if, as I went to Rome, it had been my good hap to have lighted in this City, what with my roguish tricks, my counterfeit scurffs, leprosies, and fore legs, I might have come to be a mayorazgo amongst them, and to have purchased some great Lordship.  
I did likewise observe, that few of these rogues, were curious, and cunning, 
Guzman scoffs at the rogues and beggars in Florence.  or that they were their crafts-masters; but were, for the most part, fools, mere blockheads, and had little or no wit at all, in comparison of those in my time. And when I did perceive, what poor counterfeits they were, and how sillily they did order their affairs, it was sport alone to me. I took a great deal of pleasure in looking on them, and I did secretly wish to myself, that I might have had the opportunity, to reform a thousand imperfections, which I presently saw in them. Who did ever see, that an honest poor beggar, that was a good proficient in his trade, nay, say he were never so meanly bred to it, would when he had most, (unless he were a very coxcomb) have more than six, or seven Maranediss, or some such like trifle, and not about, in his hat? nor to have such a sum of money lie open to the people's eye, that they may thereby be taught to tell him; you need no more, you have as much there already, as will very well serve to supply your wants for this day, and to put bread enough in your belly; and therefore, that he should get him gone, and give way to other poor folks, that had more need, than he had? When was it ever known, that there was ever seen any beggar, of that poor understanding, though he were but a new beginner, that would beg, having a loaf of bread under his arm? or to stand, as I saw another, with a toothpick in his care? Which I no sooner saw, but I said to myself: O thou poor silly thief, thou traitor to thy profession; Art thou such an Ass, as to let every man know, that thou hast eaten so much, that there are some remnants yet left behind in thy teeth? I saw not one amongst them all, that could play his game handsomely, nay scarce know how to set his men in their right place, nor to take their due time for the hitting of a blot; I saw no order, no decorum amongst them; they had no skill in this kind of music; many of them could say their Gammoothe, (and that too they had learned by rote) but knew not how to prove a note; others there were, that had a little paltry skill in plainsong, but would bawl it out so scurvily and so untuneably, that no care was able to endure it: And none of all this dunghill crew, that like Chaunticleere, could chant it out lustily, descant and divide at pleasure, and so to relish and melt their notes, as to make their hearts to melt that hear them, and to move them to compassion of them.  
There did I spy a young man, one of my old acquaintance, who was now a 
Guzman spies one of his old acquaintance amongst the beggars in Florence.  pretty well-grown man; this was the only beggar (I mean compared with the rest) that knew any thing amongst them. And would to God (thought I) that I might be so happy, as to come once to set my hands, where he had set his heart. For questionless, he could not choose but be rich. He was the son of such parents, as were able to leave him much. His father was a notable cunning rogue, and could his craft wonderful well. And this his son, was every way like unto him. He was lean visaged, lank bellied, spindle-shanked, and so alike suited in all the rest, that a man might truly say of him; That, 'twas father's n'owne son. But because every thing hath its time appointed, and takes it course when it comes, and for that the justice did not there permit, the having of an Academy, for the training up of these fresh men, what through want of exercise, and not trying of conclusions, and putting them in practice, they may now throw away their caps, whilst themselves with their breviaticke Art, may lie wallowing in the dirt. I knew him, but he did not know me: He might well say unto me, Tal●…e veo, que no te conosco: The world is so changed 
Proverb.  with thee, that I do not know thee. O, what a terrible conflict had I with myself, what a shrewd temptation, to go and speak to him: but I durst not. I said to Sayavedra; Seest thou that poor fellow? That rogue is able to make me rich. He then said unto me; Why doth he then go a begging? I told him; 
Why beggars cannot give over their lewd course of life.  When men have once begun to open their mouths to crave an alms, and have shut their eyes to all shame, and bound their hands from all labour, and that their feet are benumbed, and wax stiff from taking any pains, or care to live in a lawful course, their disease is beyond all cure, and there is no remedy to redress this evil.  
The experience whereof I saw in a poor young wench in my time, who coming to Rome poor and sick, fell a begging for God's sake. And when she 
A notable tale of a roguish wench.  was well recovered of her health, and as strong of her body, as any bull, she still continued her trade of begging. They, whose alms she craved, told her, it was shame for her to beg, she was young, and lusty, and was able to serve, and work for her living. She answered; that she was often troubled with a cruel pain and griping of the heart, which when the fit took her, caused her to fall down to the ground in a swound, beating her feet and her hands against the earth, renting and tearing all that she could lay hand on, and kicking and spurning at those that came near her. In this sort, did she cozen the world a long time, and spent many years in this lewd fashion, till at last one of her own Countrymen being asked, whether he knew her father, and her mother? Answered, He did; And that they were both dead, and had left her a great deal of wealth. Whereunto (as lawful Inheretrix) she laid claim. Whose estate was now such, and so great, that many principal men became Suitors unto her, and sought to have her to wife, and some of them exceeding rich (for there is no 
e No ay hierr●… tan mal●…, que no puede dorarse. Todo lo cubre, y tapa el oro.  iron so foul, that it will not be guilded; gold hides and 
Proverb.  covers all, be it never so rusty) she was penny-white (as we say) and so was married in the end to one of an honest condition, and well to live, and an handsome man withal. But this wife of his, seeing she was now deprived of her wont liberty of begging, grew within a little while after desperately sick, daily withering and wasting away, the Physicians not being able to search into the nature of her disease. And thus she continued for a good while, till she became her own physician, and cured herself, by playing the hypocrite, making solemn profession, that merely out of humility, she would go a begging, and eat not any thing, but what should be given her of alms, wherewith she would sustain this sinful carcase of hers. And to this end, would she go up and down her house amongst her servants, first to one, and then to another, craving and begging some thing of them. And because all did give her alms, and none deny her, that did not fully please her, but did much trouble her; wherefore, oftentimes, she would steal up into a private room that she had, and there shut herself in, where she had some pictures of certain great persons, that were fairly hung up in frames, and even of these (to satisfy this her ill habit, and to keep herself in ure) would she likewise demand an alms.  
Sayavedra, marvelled much at it; Who brought me from thence, to the outward Court belonging to the Palace; in the midst whereof I might see a brave Prince, mounted upon a beautiful horse of brass, so curiously cut to the life, and so well proportioned in every part, that they both seemed to have life and motion. My apprehension, could not discern, and therefore durst not presume to judge, which of the two were better, either this, or that at Rome; yet inclined in the end with that short understanding of mine, to give the praise to that which was there present; not for that it was present, but because it did deserve it. I asked of Sayavedra, whose statue that was? He told me, it was the great Dukes, Cosimo de Medici. Of whom I went discoursing unto you upon the 
The Statue of Cosimo 1. great Duke of Tuscanie.  way. And here, great Ferdinando, his son, (who lately was, but is not now alive) caused it to be set up to perpetual memory. I would needs know out of curiosity, of what height it might be, and not being able to reach thereunto to take the measure of it, I was informed, that from the very bottom to the top, was about some fifty handfuls high, little more, or less. Round about the said place, were many other delicate pieces cast in brass, and some, of substantial, yet very fine marble, so artificially wrought, that they did drive the beholders into great admiration; leaving even the best judgements in suspense, and staggering those wits most, that were most acute; excepting only such, as had some inkling aforehand, what manner of things they were.  
Afterwards, we visited the Temple of S. john Baptist, as being most worthy 
S. john Baptists Church in Florence.  our particular remembrance; for I may truly say of it, that there is scarce the like in the world for all in all. Which glorious fabric, I then learned, was founded in the time of Octavianus Augustus the Emperor, and consecrated to Mars. There did I entertain myself in observing its antiquity, and foundation, wherein I took much content; and the more, for that it is reported of it, and received by tradition, as also grounded upon reason, (in regard of its foundation) That it is to last and continue, to the final consummation and end of the world. Which we may the rather be induced to believe, for that neither length of time, nor those continual wars, accompanied with so many calamities, have as yet had the power either to deface, or destroy it. All the City besides being left desolate and laid level with the ground, only this Temple remaining still untouched. The body of it, consists of eight angles, all spacious, strong, and marvelous beautiful to behold; especially those its three great doors, which are shut up with six half doors, all of brass, cast in curious moulds, and all of one entire piece, wrought with Histories of embossed work, so daintily handled, so finely raised, and so proportionably equal in every point, as may well be presumed from the Artisans of that City, who bear away the bell from all the rest, in that kind, that are in the world.  
This Temple hath likewise another greatness belonging unto it, which is this; That there being in Florence one and forty Parish Churches, two and 
The Churches, and c●…nts in Florence.  twenty Monasteries of Friars, forty and seven Nunneries, four Colleges or Houses for those that are willing to retire themselves from the world, eight and twenty Hospitals, and two bearing the name of JESUS; yet there is no baptism used in any of these, save only in that of S. john, and in that Church, are all the children of this City baptised, from the meanest amongst the commons, to the principal Gentlemen, and the great Dukes own children. For that time, that we stayed there, we visited all the Churches-one after another, which were of that admirable workmanship, and set forth with such singular and rare curiosities, that it is not possible to relate no not the least part thereof, in regard of the muchness of them, (the number of them being so infinite,) nor is the understanding capable of apprehending them, much less our outward eye. For he that should go about to make a memorial of so great a Machina, and such a mass of things, whose admirable parts are so numberless, and every one of them accompanied with sundry pieces of such singular Art, and exquisite workmanship, besides so many excellent pictures, some in tables, and some engraven in brass, and other metals, had need to make thereof a huge great Volume, and to seek out some other Chronicler, that shall be better able than myself, to present these things to the eyes of the Reader, and to give them their due commendation.  
The great Duke, hath a Palace in the City, which is called Il Palaggio de Piti; whose excellencies, greatnesses, and curiosities, as well in gardens, as 
The Duke's Palace.  fountains, mounts, groves, sports for hunting, and goodly rooms, may (without endearing) be truly said to be a princely and royal seat; and such a one, as may compare with any other whatsoever in all Europe.  
I would not omit to know and see the circuit of this City, which containeth 
The circuit of Florence.  in it such store of wealth. And I found it to be much about five mile compass: it hath ten great Gates, and one and fifty Towers. The City is seated all within the walls, and hath no suburbs adjoining thereunto. Through the midst of it passeth the famous river of Arnus, upon which stand four most stately bridges, all paved with stone, and very strongly built, being large and spacious withal. And all these things, being thus done in perfection; the like perfection is also to be found in their government, their behaviour, and in the general fashion, and carriage of that people. And therefore justly, and with a great deal ●…son, is this City called Florencia, as being flos florum, the flower of flowers, and as it were the only nosegay of all Italy. Wherein all things, as in a curious garden, do flourish jointly together, but more particularly these especial and singular good things; As the liberal Arts, horsemanship, all kind of learning, military discipline, true dealing, fair proceeding, sweet behaviour, plainness and sincerity in their actions, and above all I must recommend unto thee, their love and kindness towards strangers. She like a true mother, embraces them in her bosom, hugs them, makes much of them, and 
Florence a friend to strangers.  favours them more, than she doth her own children; to whom, in respect of them, she may be termed a mother in law.  
The time, that I stayed there, I came to know the Causes by their Effects: to wit, by knowing the nature and condition of the inhabitants, and the politic laws, by which they were governed, and their due observation of them, not erring a tittle from them. There they apply themselves truly to know and 
The good government in Flor●…e.  esteem every man's merits, rewarding them with just and due honours; to the end that all may be encouraged to virtue. And let not Princes think it a small glory unto them, for they ought to acknowledge it for one of the greatest, that can be given them, when it is truly said of them, that their noble and renowned actions, do jump and concur with those of their subjects.  
I likewise knew that to be true, which Sayavedra had told me about the factions in Court, and the crossing and thwarting one another. I saw somewhat of that, which did exceed in other places, as Envy, and Flattery, whereof no 
Envy, and Flattery, two great Courtiers.  Prince's Court is free, which always reign there most, where is desire of s●…our, but more especially, when they labour to increase it, and to keep themselves in grace with their Sovereign. Which oftentimes turn to the great hurt of both the one and the other. They are fine and witty relators of other men's actions, and subtle Mathematicians, for to delineate and measure out that which other men can do, and sometime that, which others cannot. But let these things rest, without farther entering into them. For having painted forth unto you, in so great a perfection, this illustrious and noble City, it is not fit that I should blemish it with so foul a blot, and dash as it were with a coal, that fair commendation, that I have given it.   

CHAP. II.  
Guzman de Alfarache goes to Bologna in pursuit of Alexandro, who had stolen his trunks from him; Whither, when he was come, going about to imprison Alexandro, himself was clapped up.  
IN Florence, I did eat out that horse, which my Lord Ambassador 
Guzman sells his horse, and breaks his fast with his old shoes.  had bestowed on me at my departure, and made me one mor●…g a breakfast of his shoes. I say; To the end I might ●…ell him the better, I caused him to be new shod, giving order to Sayavedra to make money of the old ones; whereof we made our breakfast. If this heretic, Necessity, had not kicked me out of Town, and thrust me out by head and shoulders, I should never while I lived, of mine own accord, 
Guzman loath to leave Florence.  have gone from thence. And this thou mayst as certainly believe of me, as of any one Article of thy Creed. For I had now well taken salt, and was throughly seasoned, and had sounded that City to the very bottom, yet I know not, how my mind might have altered, and what I should have done hereafter. For in conclusion, todo lo nuevo, aplaze: See what is newest, that we still like best. This rule, holding more especially in such as I was, who had 
Proverb.  spiritum ambulatorium, a wand'ring humour of mine own, and was a great lover of novelties. But then I was of that opinion, for those many reasons I had on my side. For it was my hap to come thither, when they were full of their sports and pastimes; and other young fellows of the same years with myself, led me to these their delightful pleasures along with them from house to 
The sports and pastimes that are used in Florence.  house, from feast to feast, and from bridal to bridal.  
In one house you might find them dancing; in another, playing upon instruments; in a third, singing; and in a fourth, making merry with their friends. All was delight, and more and more delight still; one sets up his rest at Primera, another vies his game at Tic-Tack: some at one game, some at another. In a word, in all places of the City wheresoever we came, we met with nothing, but laudable exercises, and honest recreations. There might a man see many young gallants, pompous in apparel, and richly clad, and many fair Ladies, and handsome Gentlewomen, who wanted no setting forth for curious and costly dress, with whom these young bloods did dance. Whose tires on their heads were so daintily adorned, their gowns on their backs so richly embroidered, and their Chapine●…●…o ●…o their feet, so plated with silver, and beset 
Proverb.  with precious stones, that they did ravish both the eyes, and the souls of as many as did look upon them. I leave it therefore to thee to consider, what kind of dress those were, that had so much power to move the beholders. See how I have seasoned this dish, that I may not disgrace the goodness of the meat. Tell me; hath it not a good relish? is it not pleasing to thy palate? Though I go not into a Tavern to drink, 
f Sino bevo en la taberna, huelgome en ella. Deve ser entretenimiento ver en la tabe●…na unas mona tristes, y ocras alegres, ver cantar unos, y llorar ocros; y todos con muy poca firmeza en los pies, y gran modorra en la cabeça. Covarr. verb. Taberna.  yet I take delight to talk of it, and to look upon it, and to peep in at the door as I pass by, and sometimes slip in, to make myself merry. No man is wise on horseback; much less, in the unbridled years of his youth. In a word, I was young. And as old age is cold, and dry, so on the contrary, youth, is hot, and moist. Youth, hath strength, and old age, wisdom. Thus are these gifts divided, and yet every one hath that which is fit, and necessary for him. And though for the most part, we see that all old men turn to be young, if not (as we say) become children again; yet it were a wonder, to see young men grow old. And I say again, it were as great a wonder, to see a young man in years, to be an old man in discretion, as to see a Pear tree, to bear fruits in the heart of winter. But I speak this in Spanish, that some of other Countries, whom I know, may not find fault with 
The Author's protestation,  me. And I would have all men take notice, that I always speak according to the use and fashion of mine own Country: for I do not know after what manner others dance in theirs.  
But that I may return to my former discourse; it grieved me very much to leave Florence, (yet did it much concern me to be gone) flying as it were from myself, not knowing to what end, nor whither to go; nor yet knew I, why I should stay any longer there, unless it were to spend that poor little store of money, that I had yet left me, and that chain, which the Lord Ambassador my master, gave me at my farewell as a token of his love, and to think upon him, as oft as I chanced to cast mine eyes upon 〈◊〉 And I must truly confess unto you, that he was never out of my mind, ●…ensoeuer I did think upon that 
Guzman begins to consider with himself.  hour, wherein I must ere long be forced to●…rne it into money. And as it was given me with a great deal of love, so did it exceedingly grieve me that I must shortly part so unkindly with it. I would, if I could, have kept it rather than my life, and never have parted from it; but there are some such occasions, wherein parents may impawne their own children. Patience, (quoth I to myself) I will do the best I can; and more, I can not. And therefore (my masters) I pray pardon me; for he, that hath no other means to help himself, and is constrained thereunto out of mere necessity, is driven many times to commit many a greater error, and that shall prove far more prejudicial and hartfull. I had a great wrestling and struggling with myself; and my thoughts had a cruel sharp war with themselves, as well touching this, as other the like businesses. I considered with myself, what would now become of me, and what course I were best to take, for to supply and relieve my wants. God help me; How heavy is the heart, when the 
g Apretado se halla un coraçon, quando nolo està la bolsa. Money cheers ●…ns heart.  purse is light! And therefore we say; 
Proverb.  A heavy purse, makes a light heart. What little comfort do we take in the world? And how faint and feeble, are the pleasures of this life to him, whose purse strings are too weak? And more particularly, to one that is in a strange Country, and that hath put on a resolution with himself to forget his lewd courses, and not to live, as he had done, by tricks and by shifts; yet not knowing how to gain a penny, and wanting the means, how to come by money; having no near acquaintance with any, to presume of such kindness from them, being far from my friends, and farther from any the least intention or purpose to cheat or cozen any man. For, if I would have run that course, and set my mind unto it, I needed not to have taken such a deal of care and trouble in the business. For I had my 〈◊〉 about me; and a hand, that was able to find me work all the year long; I could not want, (if I listed myself) to pick out a living where-soever I should come. For (thanks be to God for it) what I had once learned, it was mine own for ever: I never lost it, if I once had it. Only, I might at first be a little to seek, for want of use, but the tools of my trade were never out of my hand, but always carried them with me, whither-soever ay went. I departed from Rome with a full purpose to become an honest man; and fall back, fall edge, come good, or come bad, all welcome, as it pleased God; for I had a great mind to continue these my good desires, and t●…remaine firm in this so honest a resolution. But seeing, that Hell is full of these, what good could my holy deliberations do me, if I did not put them in execution? For f●… without works, is but a dead faith.  
Now, I had gotten me a man to wait upon me; Where by the way, I pray 
He that is used to command, will hardly be brought to obey.  let me ask you, what a good direction this was, to address me to a Master? What a Letter of recommendation to be received into service? I had been now accustomed to command; how would you then, that I should submit my self to obey? I verily thought with myself (as perhaps many moe do, for I do not think that I am the only man of that mind in the world) that I 
Want, and honesty, can hardly stand together.  should have been an honest man, if answerable to that glorious show that I made, and the height whereat I lived, I had had wherewithal to spend accordingly, and that I had not wanted means to uphold this great spirit of mine, but had had money enough to maintain and enlarge my generous disposition. But the sums (I fear me) which must have served to supply my wants, must miraculously by some holy Saint or other, be subministred unto me: for no other hand could do it. And certainly, I know not how it then fell out, that I was so honest, as I was; I verily believe, that this also was a Miracle, considering the condition of that present time, and mine own evil inclination. I was 
A good discourse of Guzman's.  young, left to live at mine own liberty, suffered to do what I list, and rather accustomed to seek occasions, to do then to shun ill; and I could hardly by the help of my good desires, eith●…●…ose, or lay aside my bad conditions.  
Such a Lady, or such a Gentlewoman saith (which is their ordinary kind of language) I would fain be a good woman, I desire to lead an honest life, as no woman more, if that necessity did not force me to do that, which I do. Indeed Madame, by your leave, your Ladyship lies. For, that you do ill, it is only, because you are willing to do ill. O what a poor excuse is this? I confess that I offend thus and thus, but it is against my will; for I am not of myself given to such, or such a sin, nor have any inclination thereunto in the world. In good faith it is otherwise, for I read it in your eyes. And they consenting unto sin, who can be said to be the cause thereof, but yourselves? For if you would but turn your eyes from your windows, and throw them on your distaff, or your cushionet, certainly necessity would not constrain you to ill. women's hands are not of that length, nor so quick and so nimble, that they should suddenly reach so far, as to find you food, apparel, and house-rent: yet are they long enough, to put themselves forth to service; and they that set you a work, will bestow houseroom on you, and put meat in your mouths, and money in your purse. But I expect you should say unto me; Thou, that art a man, giv'st me this counsel; Thou art loath to serve thyself, and yet thou wouldst have me to serve, that am a woman? Indeed, thou hast hit the nail on the head; And this is that, which I say; That your Mistrisse-ship, and I, and this, or that other woman (be she what she will) are all of us unwilling to do ourselves good. We will put to no helping hand of our own, but would, that what we stand in need of, should be put into our mouths, and that it should miraculously be ministered unto us.  
Twenty years of age, is a terrible beast: O how headstrong, and how wild 
Youth, what a kind of thing it is.  it is. There is no battle so bloody, no skirmish so hot, and so hard to come off clear, as that war, which we wage with our youth. For if it go about to make its retreat from Vice, it hath many fierce enemies that sharply set upon it, never ceasing to assail it, galling it here, & wounding it there, which will hardly be repelled, more hardly overcome, by reason of those many occasions of advantage which offer themselves; it being besides a thing proper unto youth, to stumble, if not to fall, at every step: Youth hath not (believe me) any strength in its legs, much less know they well how to go. It is an untamed beast, it is full of fury, and void of patience; and if it entertain any good motion, a hundred ill thoughts disband the same by and by, and put it to rout; not giving it so much leisure as to set foot to ground, nor to put it in the ●…rop, not to seat himself sure in the Saddle. Every one cannot get up to it; and few that can bridle this beast. It will not be so soon overmastered, as some do think, nor be easily brought to go that way as a man would have it. I was ever, like the Hog, up to the very eyes, nuzzling myself in the mud of vice and wickedness, (for albeit I did not always practise ill, yet I never lost the sight of it) and I was loath to kick and fling against it, lest by my too much stirring, I might loosen my lading, and cause it to fall to the ground; if not spraine, and hurt myself.  
A Bullocke, or young Steere, when he is to be tamed, they first halter his legs, throwing him down on the ground, than they fall a shooing of him, after that, they bind a rope or a cord to one of his horns, which they suffer him to trail after him for some few days; and when they are minded to bring his neck to the yoke, they yoke him with an old Ox, that hath been long used to the plough, and so by little and little disposing him thereunto, they 
Instruction, necessary for youth.  teach him by these degrees to begin to draw handsomely, and in the end to be as perfect as the best of them.  
That young man therefore, that hath a desire to be old, let him leave to follow my steps, and let him strive to subdue his passions; let him prepare, and dispose himself to labour, and in despite of his own will, let him strongly struggle and wrestle with his idle and foolish desires, and throw them flat on their backs to the ground, that they may never rise up any more to make resistance against him: And when he hath thus gotten them down under him, let him bind them fast with that double twisted cord of Patience, and Humility; and let him trail after him, for some certain days, these his strange and dangerous appetites, spending his time in virtuous exercises, and many shall not pass over his head, before he be brought to bow his neck to that holy yoke of repentance; and by yoking himself with good company, he shall quickly be enured to the plough, wherewith he shall break up the earth of his evil inclinations; But let no man think, that he shall be able to do this at the first dash; and that once trying what he can do, shall be sufficient to make him grow perfect. Some (I know) will not stick to tell me; I would do this, and I would do that, my will is to it, but etc. Let him speak this to such another 
This same but, or Si non, is the cause of much harm.  as himself, and to one that is of the like quality and condition, as he is. For I know well enough already, that he is not willing to do this, nor to do that; For they, that are willing indeed, use other more effectual means. And nothing is hard to them, that will set themselves hard to it. Peradventure such a one thinks, or expects, that God should open the heavens, and miraculously strike him to the ground, as he did Saint Paul; But let him not look to have the like course to be taken with him; lest he be accounted a fool for his labour.  
God threw him to the ground, and humbled him sufficiently, when he afflicted him with sickness, when he laid troubles upon him, and when he suffered him to be touched in his good name; if either then, or now, thou wouldst accept of grace, while it is offered thee, thou shalt be sure to find it. But thou wast never willing to entertain these good motions, much less to humble thyself with Saint Paul, and to city out with him; Domine, quid vis, ut faciam? Lord, what wilt thou, that I do? What is thy divine will and pleasure? Thou wilt not like Paul be for God, and yet thou look'st that God should be for thee. And if he dealt thus with Saint Paul, it was because God knew the earnest desire that he had to know and search out the Truth: and that it was his zeal to the Law that did thus oversway him; the current whereof being turned another way, he would be as fervent for the Gospel. And you can instance but in a few that have been saved by a bare intention, without any good work. These ●…o are to concur in one, intention and action; I say, if we have any time left 
If we will be saved, our good intentions, must be seconded by good actions.  unto us for action, or wherein we may do any good work. And then shall a ●…me intention of amendment of life, and a hearty sorrow for our sins past, be accounted a good work, when the night of death shall suddenly overtake us, and shut us up in darkness. But having day enough to work and labour in the Lord's Uineyard, both these aught to go together, I mean intention and action. For neither the spade alone, nor the hand alone, can dig, and dress the ground; but hand, and spade, must both work together.  
But who hath put me into this theme? Was not I in Florence even now to my great content? Thither do I return again. I assure thee, that the more I walked up and down that City, the more desirous I was to plant there my Pillars, and not to seek for a Plus ultrà. For it was even as I would have wished it to be, all very beautiful and delightsome. And if therein resided either flattery 
Envy, and flattery, hurtful to a Commonwealth.  or envy, I took no great heed thereof, but let it run to others account, for I was none of those, that were comprehended in that Decree. I had nothing to do (like judas) with the alms of the poor; nor could any prejudice thereby come unto me, being that I pretended nothing in Court. And if they would any way have holpen me, I had no need to use them. Or had I stood in need of them, I would not have made any use of them; they evermore seeming unto me the greatest means of mischief, that ever came yet within my knowledge. For one only flatterer is sufficient alone of himself to overthrow a Commonwealth, if not a whole Kingdom. Happy is that King, and fortunate that Prince, whose Subjects serve him for love, and who out of his wisdom leaves now and then an ear open to the people's complaints, as also their advice; for only by this means shall he come to know truths, whereby he may redress those things, that are amiss, and keep off flatterers from abusing his ears.  
There would I have lived all the days of my life, and have passed away the time, like a Duke, had I had wherewithal. But I was in a manner blown up, and all my money was almost spent. I need not to confirm this unto you with an oath, for you may very well (if you will) believe me on my bare word. The River now began to grow dry, and my store to fail me; for, Deal monton que 
Proverb.  sacau, y no ponen, presto lo descomponen. Pull from your heap, and put nothing to it; you, or your heap (if not both) may rue it. So that my moneys still going out, and none coming in, if I should have stayed any longer there, I should quickly have run myself out at the heels, and it would have been a great disreputation for me, to have come in a horseback, and to go out a foot. I thought it good counsel to uphold mine honour, and to depart from thence, both to my credit, and content, before that being forced thereunto by necessity, I should come to discover my wants, and be bound to stay still there, for lack of means to be gone. I acquainted Sayavedra with this my purpose, and plainly opened my mind unto him; For by this time, I knew well enough, that he was likely to be my only help at a pinch, my strong fort, and the only trench whereunto I might with safety retire, and that I could not have met with such another companion in all the world for my purpose. I went preparing him by a little and a little, working and disposing him by degrees, that he might not afterwards think that he had seen strange visions, and vain apparitions, and that whatsoever should hereafter befall me, might not seem new unto him, or accounted as a novelty.  
When I had thus moulded him, he said unto me; Sir, There is one remedy, 
Sayavedras' counsel to Guzman for the recovery of his stol●…e goods.  that offers itself unto me now on the sudden, neither chargeable, nor hard, but very easy to be effected, and that may make much for your profit. Seeing there is no remedy, but we must be gone, it is not much material which gate we go out at; for at any one of the ten, we may travail out on our ten toes, to go abroad, and see the world. Let us (if you will be ruled by me) take the way, that leads to Bologna; for besides, that it is near at hand, and that we shall there see that famous University, we may chance likewise to have the good luck to mere with Alexandro Bentivoglio, that Master of mine, who went away with the most part of your goods. For if we hap to find him there, (as I verily believe we shall,) It will be an easy matter for you to recover your own. For, upon that information which was made of the theft in Sienna, it is not to be doubted, that though you get not what you lost again, yet he or his father will at least be content to give you good satisfaction.  
I took this to be no bad counsel, but was very well pleased therewith, not thinking on any other thing then the force of Law, and the justness of my cause; and let justice deal never so indirectly with me, I could not conceive the least cause of doubt, in regard of the clear notice I could make of the theft, which would, if not all, yet have allotted me the greater part of my goods: persuading myself, that this party, who was principal in this theft, knowing himself guilty thereof, would have come unto me upon his knees, desiring my pardon, and that he would voluntarily have offered to make me amends for the wrong he had done me, and to come upon any terms to agreement with me; as well for that his parents, and kindred in that City, were persons of principal note; as also, for that notwithstanding all the means they were able to make to bolster out the matter, yet would they never permit, that so foul a fact should come to public hearing, and be judicially tried, nor that they, and their house, should be blotted and blurred with so foul a stain, and dishonour, as this could not choose but prove, if it should once come to be ripped up.  
Will you hear a strange kind of humour in me? you shall then know it by this. It is not long since you heard me say, what a delicate and delightsome place Florence was, and what a deal of pleasure I took therein. And now upon the sudden, I was grown out of love with it, the very name of it was grown so hateful unto me, that it was ready out of a loathing that I had taken to it, to turn up my stomach. It began now (me thought) to stink, I could not endure the sent of it; every thing seemed so foul and so filthy to my sight, that I did now long to be gone, and till then, every day was to me a thousand. You may see (my masters) what wonders want of money can work! You will in a moment hate those things, which you loved most, when you lack wherewithal to maintain both yourselves, and them. Now my mind gave me, that 
Guzman minds to leave Florence, and to go to Bologna.  there was not such another City in the world, as Bologna; wherein I should no sooner set my foot, but I should recover my stolen wares, and have wherewithal to spend, and to keep company with your young Students, lads of the right stamp, merry greeks, much of mine own size and mark, with whom I might play three or four venewes, when I were so disposed, without any great disadvantage of weapon. And the dice might haply have given me so lucky a chance, and have hit so right, that I might have had the good fortune to have followed my studies: for that learning, which my Lord Cardinal bestowed upon me, I had not as yet forgot it, but was very ready and perfect in all that had been taught me. And questionless, with that little learning, that I then had, I might very well have proceeded Master, and made a shift to live by that profession, if that kind of course had been fitting for me, or that myself had been willing to apply my mind hereunto.  
But stay a while Guzman, be not thou too hasty: Wilt thou offer to trail a gown after thee, being so weak that thou canst scarce hale a halter at thy heels? Hold thy hand, this is not a task for thee to undertake. There is no talking of commencing Doctor, till the bow of preferment be drawn home by the strong arm of angels. What canst thou hope for then, who art so poor, that thou art scarce able to wag the string.  
I was now fully resolved to begin my journey, and to make all the haste I could. And so in an instant I put this my intention in execution. Away goes Sayavedra, and I together, making directly for Bologna. And because I had flying thoughts in my head, I was willing to put wings to my horse: making such good speed, that we came thither that night; but slept very little, for we spent the most part of it in plotting and casting about how we should bear ourselves 
Guzman, and Sayavedra being come to Bologna, are puzzled, not well knowing what course to take.  in this business; and whilst we were discoursing to and fro, what were best to be done; Sayavedra (having looked well as it should seem on his own cards) says unto me: Sir, I hold it not so fit, that I should be seen herein at all, especially now at this my first flight, but rather to lie close awhile, till we may see, where it will be best to give the wound; and when we shall come to know, where the game lies, and that there is any hope of doing good, then let us let fly, and strike it dead. For if Alexandro be in the town, and should know that I am here, (which he cannot choose, if I stir abroad, being so well known as I am,) he will question me, wherefore I am come hither, and with whom? And that known, he will absent himself forthwith from the City, and so we shall be defeated of our purpose. Or if he chance but to suspect, that I had a finger in this business, and that I was the cause of this journey, and his shame, there is no way but one with me, he will surely kill me; so that neither of these two will advantage us any thing, nor is fitting for us to be adventured on. Besides, if this web must come to be woven in the Loom of justice, I must be the master-thred to be wrought upon, there is no avoiding of it: And therefore you have no reason to suffer me (considering that I can stand you in no stead, if I be taken and clapped by the heels) to receive any farther harm, than what I have already endured. The best course then to be taken, I conceive to be this; That to morrow morning you make inquiry after him, and by one means or other (with the best secrecy you can) seek first to know him, and to take particular notice of his person; That done, we will consult thereof afresh, and govern ourselves therein, according as occasion and time shall serve.  
I did not like amiss of this, me thought it was good wholesome counsel. Well; as he had advised me I set myself to work, I walked up and down the Town, and after the treading of some few steps, not being troubled (as fortune would have it) to tire out my legs in the search of him, it was my good hap to have him pointed out unto me with the finger, telling me; 
f Guzman finds Alexandro with his clothes on his back, that he had stolen from him.  Lo, that's the man. Which direction I needed not, for the clothes on his back did speak what he was, and without others teaching, could tell me, This is Alexandro. He was standing amongst other young men at the Church door; nor do I believe, that his devotion was such, as to go in and out to hear Mass, but I was rather of opinion, that he stood there registering those that went in, offering great scandal, but showing small respect, to that sacred place. 
g An ill custom, that is too much used in many great Cities in the world. Especially in Madrid, where to prevent this Church-courting, the men are to go in and out at one door, and the women at another.  It is a foul shame, that this is so commonly used as it is in most parts of the Christian world. I know what I speak; Would to God I knew as well how to reform this abuse. Are there not store of streets, and other public places in the town, for to make love in, which we scandal too much already with our lewd steps, wanton looks, dishonest signs, and tokens, and perhaps other things of a worse condition, to intimate our loose and lustful affections, but that we must wrong 
Proverb.  God's holy Temple with this our uncivil and beastly behaviour.  
But let us proceed in our former argument, that we may not leap from a Mass, into a Sermon. It seemed unto me, that he stood not there with any great devotion, for he talked 
h The Spanish phrase is, Hablava por la mano. That is, he talked with his band. Now to talk with the band, is an ancient fashion of speaking, by forming letters, and by putting your fingers in diverse and sundry postures, whereby a man makes his mind known. Couar●… Verb: Mano. Guzman in a great rage; and why?  apace with his hand, and now and then he would break out in a loud laughter. He had at that time a doublet of mine on his back of cloth of silver, and a jerkin dressed with Amber, and other rich perfumes, cut and slashed clean through, and lined with the same cloth of silver, suitable to the doublet, and richly laid with lace after the Sevillian fashion, and eight buttons of gold wrought upon Amber, to make it sit the closer to the collar, all which a Gentleman of Naples presented me withal, for a certain dispatch that I had procured for him, by soliciting his business with my Lord Ambassador.  
When I came to know mine own, and saw another man wear it before my face, I could have found in my heart to have stabbed him, and to have presently stripped him of it, so did it grieve and vex the very soul of me, that such dear pledges as these of my friends love unto me, should thus fore against my will, be in another man's possession. My blood rose against him, and I was often tempted to have gone and stabbed him, but I held my hand, and said with myself; No Guzman, no; This must not be so; Better it were, that this thy thief, should be converted, and live. For if thou let him live, he may chance to pay thee; but if thou kill him, thou art sure to pay for him. And of the two, it is better to take, then to give. And safer it is for thee, that others should be indebted to thee, than thou indebted to others. And it will be more for 
Proverb.  thy ease, and more easily compassed, to get in a 
i Mas facile cobrar, que pagar.  debt, then to pay a debt. Make not thyself the defendant, if thou mayst be the plaintiff. Go on fair and softly, be not so hasty, for there is no body that runs after us. And if there be any order or Law in gaming, and if the dice run true, if the cards be not packed, but are well shuffled and cut, and that there be fair play, unless the devil be in it, or my luck exceeding bad, all the world cannot win the game from me. For I have cards enough in mine own hand to carry it. We are sure the bird cannot now get from us; which is that which importeth us most. Let us not fear the Chase, but hunt lively, for the Bulls are safe enough; they cannot escape us. He is taken in the manner, the theft found about him, he cannot possibly deny it. I swear I will put him to his neck-verse, and see how well or ill he will come off, and make him to confess upon the Rack, who put him into those fine clothes, or in what Fair or Market he bought them. 
Proverb.   
Having consulted thus with myself, I got me home to my lodging, acquainting Sayavedra with what I had seen. He had provided me my dinner ready for me, and had set it down on the table, as soon as he saw I was come; And when we had dined, we pitched the hay wherewith we were to catch this Coney. We discoursed one while of this course, another while of that, many designs we had, many means propounded to come by our own; but Sayavedra (poor man) did stagger at them, and was loath to give way unto them: He repented him now of the counsel he had given me, fearing therein his own danger. But we concluded in the end, that of all other means, Peace (if we could draw him to some reasonable composition) were the best. For it is better to have one bird in the hand, than two in the 
k The Spanish proverb is, Mas valia paxaro en mano, que Buey volando. Better a bird in hand, than a Vulture flying. Signifying thereby, That what a man hath safe and sure in his power, is much better than the uncertain hopes of great matters, by reason of those many accidents that may interhappen. Covarr Verb: Bueytre.  bush. And a bad 
l De menor dano mal conçierto que buen pleyto. The tyranny of great persons.  Accord, is better than a good Plea: Less harm ever coming of agreeing, then suing. So that at last, we grew to this conclusion, that I, by a third person, should use some means, to have his father talked withal, making him acquainted with the business, and the whole manner how it was carried, giving him a large account of every particular thing, remitting myself to his good will and pleasure, how he in his own discretion should think meet I deserved to be dealt withal, and that he would not enforce me (considering my fair manner of proceeding with him) to recover mine own by rigour of Law, being there 
Proverb.  was Euidentia facti; besides many other pregnant proofs to be produced, that these goods were mine. And so I did, as we had devised; having made choice of a discreet person, who should secretly and with fitting language, deliver thus much unto him. But because Power is commonly accompanied with Pride, and Pride is still attended with Tyranny, he was so far from compounding the business, that he made little reckoning of it, taking it ill at his hands that treated with him about it, wishing him that he should speak no more of it, deeming it as an affront done unto his honour, and a mere defamation. He feigned himself to be greatly wronged, though he knew well enough that I was he, that was injured; and without giving us either good hopes, or good words, he dispatched my messenger.  
When I received this answer, I hatched a thousand evil imaginations in my heart. But because I would not return evil for evil, I resolved to talk with some one Lawyer or other of that University, that should be recommended unto me for the nimbleness of his wit, and soundness of judgement; to whom I opening my case (fearing the success thereof, for that my adversary's father was so powerful) might crave his opinion, and that he would assist me with his best advice and counsel, for the better prosecuting of his business. He plainly told me; Sir, it is well enough known in this Town, what manner of man Alexandro is, as also his lewd and idle courses, which in some other place, would be a sufficient information against him. Besides, there is so much truth in that, which you urge against him, that it is manifestly apparent to as many as know him, or shall hear you. You have right on your side, a just and a good cause, and therefore I would advise you to frame an information against him, and to desire justice. All Bologna, hath taken notice already of this theft of his; for, as soon as he came hither with it, it was presently known, that these clothes were none of his own; as well, because he caused them to be altered, and fitted to his own body; as also, for that he carried hence with him no lambs to sell, nor any other kind of merchandise, whereby he should make so rich a return. Besides, another companion of his, in whom he put much trust, stole a good part of these goods from him, that he might likewise gain thereby a part of his Pardons, & Indulgences. You see now, what course you must be fain to take, what lies in me to relieve you, you may be assured of the best furtherance and the best counsel that I can give you, for the countenancing of this your cause.  
Whereupon, I being very desirous, that a bill should be exhibited against him, he presently (according to my information) drew one out, which I forthwith presented to the Auditore del Torrone, who is there the judge in all Causes Criminal. But, be it as it may be, whether it were immediately from the judge himself, or from the Notary, I know not which, nor from whence, nor how it came to pass, but sure I am, that this business of mine was instantly over all the Town, and particular notice was given thereof unto Alexandro's father. And for that he was a man of authority in that Town, and carried a great hand there amongst them, he hies him in all haste to the judge, and there accusing me for this my bold attempt, and inconsiderate rashness, (as it pleased him to term it) he form a complaint against me, that I had defamed, and dishonoured his house, and that therefore he was of purpose come unto him to desire his lawful favour, and that he would be pleased to do him justice, to the end that I might be severely punished for this my presumption. I know not how, but the matter was so carried between them, that it had been better for me, to have held my peace. He was a powerful man in that City, and the judge (it seemed) was very willing to pleasure him. I began now to fear, that occasions of quarrel would be picked against me; molehills made mountains; and this my loss, turn to my greater loss; making my undoing, an occasion of my farther undoing. For Love, Interest, and Hatred, are ever main enemies to the Truth. And in many places, As a man is befriended, 
Truths enemies.  so his Cause is ended. But he that hath both money and friends, is sure to work out his ends. Money is of no great thickness, yet it dulls the double 
What abales the ●…dge of justice?  edged sword of justice, if it but once offer to touch it. Gold, is a heavy mettle; and that makes the balance of justice so light. I did spit as it were against heaven, the drivel whereof fell upon my own face; I shot my arrows up into the air, and they returned back again upon mine own bosom; the innocent paying for the 
m Pagan los iustos, por peccadotes.  nocent; and the just, for the unjust. 
Proverb.   
Much 
n Mucho dana, el mucho dinero.  money, does much harm; But much more, the evil intention of an evil man. And therefore where an ill-minded man, and a great mass of money meet together and shake hands, there is much need of help from heaven, to free an innocent soul out of their cruel claws. Good Lord deliver us from out their clutches, for they are more griping and tyrannous, than those of Tigers, or of Lions. Their will is a law; whatsoever they desire, that they do; right (when they lift) shall be wrong; and wrong, right: And no man must control them for it; nor dare to say, black is their eye; lest he chance to lose both his own, for prying too near into the secrets of these earthly gods. O that there were men of that goodness and courage, that would not stick to tell them, and plainly give them to understand; that the money, they thus unlawfully take, shall last with them but a while; but the fire, wherewith they shall be tormented for it, shall continue for ever.  
The judge did limit me a prefixed time for my proofs, but so short, that it was not possible for me to make my information according to that scantling. In this you may see the injustice that he did me. Who did ever till now know a judge restrain the Plaintiff of lawful time to make his proofs, as he did me, especially when I did allege for myself, that the information was to come from Sienna, where the theft was committed, whence I was to procure it, for otherwise I could not have it. But to allege this, or not allege it, all was one. I must be content, will I, nill I, to sit down with this loss. There was no fence for it. And to this purpose, before I pass any farther, I will tell you what happened in a little Village of Andaluzia.  
There was a certain sessing to be set in a ratable proportion, upon the 
A short tale of an Alcalde.  Towne-dwellers, and borderers thereabout, for some public piece of work, that was to go in hand; and the Collectors that were appointed to gather the money, had put into their roll (to contribute thereunto) a Gentleman of as ancient a house, as any in those parts; who taking himself therein to be greatly wronged, made his complaint against the collectors. But for all that, they did not strike his name out of the roll. Now, when the time was come for the levying of these monies, they went unto this Gentleman to demand so much of him, as he was rated at in their note; He refused to pay it. Whereupon they distrained on his goods, and paid themselves. The Gentleman being much offended with this their proceeding, goes forthwith to his Lawyer, asks his counsel, who (in conclusion) draws me a petition for him, grounded upon all both Law, and Reason, wherein he lays open his ancient Gentry, and the nobleness of his House, and that in regard thereof he was privileged from all manner of sessings, and such other the like payments, and that therefore he did humbly petition the Court, that they would be pleased to give present order, that what the Collectors had forcibly taken from him, might again be restored, and be delivered back unto him, as in all equity it ought. When this petition was by them delivered unto the Alcalde, having read it, and heard what they could say for themselves, he called to the Register, and said unto him; Mark well, what I shall say unto you, & see you set it down in the very same words, as I shall deliver it unto you. This Petitioner (than said he) as he is a Gentleman, I will by no means debar him of his privilege, God forbid I should deny him his just request; but as he is a poor man, his House grown now to decay, and himself (as you see) in want, I hold it very fit, that he pay as others do.  
That I had justice on my side, no man doubted it; it was so public a thing, that all the world took notice of it. But I was poor and needy, and therefore it was fit I should pay for all, and there was no reason (in that respect) that they should do me justice. I presently smelled a rat; I saw this was a bad sign, and was shrewdly afraid, that all my labour would be lost. But I could not for all this persuade myself, nor could it sink into my head, that I should be that man, or whom it is said by way of proverb; Paçiente, y apaleado: That I must go away with the wrong, and the blows too. First be made cuckold, and afterwards 
Proverb.  knocked for my prating. Well; such was my hard fortune, that being 
Co●…nudo, y apalcado, 〈◊〉 proverbially spoken o●… those, who b●…es t●…e wrong they have received are themselves condem●…d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Covarr. ve●…b. Apaleado.  not able to bring in my proofs in so short a time, it so fell out with me, that my Bill of Complaints, was thrown out of the Court, and held as a thing of no validity or force in Law, and that of the adverse part, took place against me; declaring there in Court, that I by this my petition, had shamed an infamous L●…bell against his son, by means whereof his House, and h●… honour was much defamed; adding and interferting, in maiorem cautelam, I know not what a world of words, and what strange and intricate terms. That I did sp●…te, indubitatè, etc. That I did it wittingly and willingly, impudently and maliciously, aggravating the matter against me with all the odious terms they could devose, that if I should set them down one by one, they would take up a whole sheet of paper. Alleging farther against me, that forasmuch as his son, was a quiet, honest, and peaceable Gentleman, and of a good both report, and life, I did deserve I know not what exemplary punishment, hanging, burning, and drowning, all was too little, that I knew not what to make of it, nor what a God's name, they would do with me. Which things, w●…n they were read unto me, I said to myself; These men may have healthy bodies, but I am sure they have sick souls; They may have good purses, but I find (to my cost) they have bad consciences. I was careless, (as one that was confident of a good cause) I never shrunk aside, and as I was afterwards going about my business, that my suit might not fall, for want of following, I was taken up in the midst of the street by an Arrest, and presently carried away to prison, without 
Guzman clapped in prison.  any other information against me, save only the putting up of my petition, and acknowledging it to be mine.  
There is no sword, that hath so keen and sharp an edge, as Calumny, and false Accusation: and then cuts deepest, when it is in the hand of a tyrannous judge; whose force and power is such, that it is able to overthrow, and lay level with the ground, the best grounded justice that is, though it have never so sure, never so strong a foundation. Which it doth then most, and most easily, when a poor man's cause comes in his way, who suspects (poor harmless soul) nothing less, then to receive hurt from him, to whom he flies for help. My business was plain, no tricks, no gigs in it, I did only set down the naked truth, but they made it I know not how, by their quillets and devices, knotty and uneven, though there was not a man, neither within, nor without the Town, that did not know, all was true, that I had delivered; and all this did plainly appear to the judge to be so, and that I had sufficient information.  
All this is very good; yet for all this (goodman Guzman) give me leave to tell you, that you are a goose-cap. Thou art poor, thou wantest favour, and 
Little reckoning made of the poor.  friends; and therefore art neither to be heard, nor believed. These are not Cases, that are to be brought before the Tribunals of men; but when thou hast occasion to have thy cause try de, go get thee to God, petition him, where the truth shall appear face to face, without any need of the favour of thy friend, nor an Advocate to plead thy cause, nor a Register to record it, nor a judge to wrest it. But here they made a sport of justice, and like jugglers played leggerdemaine with me. They punished me, as an unmannerly man of my tongue, a liar, and a lewd companion. I had spent my monies, lost my goods, put in prison, gyves clapped on my legs, treated with evil language, upbraiding me with many foul and uncivil reproaches, unworthy my person, without suffering me to open my mouth in mine own defence. And when I would have answered their objections, and given them satisfaction by writing, when they saw how the world went with me, my Proctor forsook me, my Solicitor would not come at me, my Advocate refused to plead for me, so that I only now remained in the power of the public Notary. The only comfort that I had, was the general voice of my wrong, comforting me, that that terrible and fearful day, would one day come, that the powerful shall for all his power, be condemned to Hell, and that there, your potentes, potenter punientur, your mighty men shall be mightily punished; for that they are accursed of God for perverting of justice. And that which he shall leave behind him, shall not continue to the third heir, though he tie his land never so fast, nor make never so strong a conveyance, that it shall not go from the house: For he cannot (though h●… would never so fain) tie the inclinations of those that are to succeed him; nor is there any prevention, that he can use, of that force as the least hair of his head, to make any resistance against God's divine will and pleasure. And it is to be believed as an article of thy faith, that their lands and estates must be spent and consumed, for that they are the grindings of the face of the poor, ungodly gain, the blood of the innocent, gotten in rage, and maintained with lies.  
But thou wilt say unto me; Trust them with so much more, till that day come, and you shall see whether they will make any bones of either taking the one, or thinking on the other. Where-unto I answer, that how sleight a reckoning soever thou mak'st of it, and that it seems so long a day to thee, that it will never come, I do not know what these kind of men may think of it; but I know very well, that it will come, and that quickly, and sooner perhaps then thou art aware. And then it shall seem so short unto thee, that thou wilt say; I am but newly come forth with my feet from out my bed, and the night is already come, and I must shut up my eyes in darkness.  
But perhaps, thou wilt reply unto me; I pray how cam'st thou by so many good suits of clothes, so much money, and other things of value? Thou didst not get them by the spade, nor the plough, thou didst not dig, nor delve for them. What didst thou make in that street, upon that occasion and accident you wot of, when you served your Master the French Ambassador? Is this (quoth I) the rod, you seek to beat me withal? Thou art caught in thine owne-trap; thine own words do condemn thee. For thou wouldst liken these goods of mine, to those that are gotten by lewd women, whereas thou dost not, but oughtest to understand, that their gain is lawful, though the act be unlawful; and thou art in conscience bound to recompense her, if thou hast had thy desire of her, and didst make use of her for thine own interest. Besides, the case is not alike. For it is publicly known to all the world; that though a corrupt judge commit never so many mischiefs, never so unjustly put men to death, never so wrongfully rob a man of his goods, and undo him by his partial and corrupt dealing, thou shalt have little or no remedy against him, nor canst thou take that from him, which he hath stolen from others. For thou art not his competent judge, nor of that power as to adjudge against his will that to others, which he hath taken from them. For though it be true, that he is culpable therein towards others; thou shalt be sure to be found culpable towards him. And howsoever he scape, thou shalt be sure to smart for it. Believe me, I tell thee what is true, nay, I tell thee truth itself; truth upon truth.  
But what good does this do me? My name is Pero Garzia, I am a kind of Tom-Tell-Troth. A free Aruntius, that must utter my mind plainly, though perhaps I may chance to smart for it. If we should all strive to hear truth, and to make satisfaction for those wrongs we have done, we should see the Hospitals to be quickly filled. And now in good sooth, I bethink myself, that it is better to enter into Heaven with one eye, then into Hell with two. And that S. Bartholomew, had rather have his skin pulled over his ears, then to sleep (as they say) in a whole skin, and to go therewith to eternal torment. And that S. Laurence made the better choice, when he chose rather to be burned here, then there. But (alas) we cannot be all S. Bartholomew's, nor S. Lawrences, so as we be saved, that is sufficient. For mine own part, I should be glad of the like good fortune. For he shall perform no small piece of work, that shall work out his salvation. But to be saved, many things are required. And it shall be impossible for thee to be saved, by keeping those goods in thy hands which thou hast stolen, when as thou art able (if thou wilt) to make restitution. Whichthou art loath to do, or dost not at all, that thou mayst leave it to they heirs, disinheriting those, that are the true owners thereof: And therefore do not thou seek to trouble either thyself, or us, to excuse these thy robberies and unjust actions, by cunning shifts, to cozen thine own soul, and by lessening and mincing of them, as though they were matters of nothing, and therefore need not much to trouble thy conscience; for this that I deliver unto thee is the Catholic faith; and those other thy tricks and devices, the sleights and subtleties of Satan. Miserable, and most wretched is that man, who for the maintaining of his pride and pomp in the world, and that he may leave either his children, or his nephews great titles, and rich revenues, hath heaped up riches by indirect means, and hath filled his house up to the top with ill-gotten gain, contenting himself, so as he may leave a name here behind him upon earth, to leave his soul, to live hereafter for ever in hell. These (I assure you) are no jesting matters, they are not to be made sport withal; for ere long, thou (to thine own cost) shalt find that to be too true, which I now tell thee. I call thee thine own self, to be a witness of that which I have said; I desire no other. And let me tell thee withal; That thou thyself dost not know when thy days shall have an end, or whether thou shalt have so much time of life lent thee, as to read out these good lessons, which I read unto thee, howsoever foolish they may seem unto thee. But in that other world, thou wilt be of another mind. Nor do not thou flatter thyself, That thou hast built such a Chapel, and maintainest so many Chaplains to pray for thy soul, but at mine, and other men's cost, stripping one of his coat, another of his cloak, whereunto thou hadst no right in the world. For Masses (though S. Gregory himself should say them) cannot benefit the damned, there is no redemption, when the sentence is once past.  
O good God! When shall I make an end of troubling thee with these, and the like discourses? For I know thou dost not look for these Sermons from me, nor any other kind of wholesome doctrine, but expectest only such things, as may serve to entertain the time, or to bring thee asleep. I do not know how to excuse this terrible temptation, that I have to talk in this fashion, save only by telling thee, that it is with me, as it is with drunkards, who no sooner get a penny, but they go, and spend it at the Tavern.  
There is not any 
p The Spanish word is, Ripio. Cerca de los canteros, son las piedras menudas que saltan de las pieças que van labrando. o otto genero de piedras menudas, para rehinchir las paredes. bezimo, metre uno mucho ripio, quanden la meteria que va tratando, ingiere algunas cosas frivolas, à semejança del que haze paredes, que poniendo en las does hazes piedras grandes, todo lo en de medio hinche deste cascaxo y ripio. Covarr. verb. Ripio.  shave, of mettle, stone, or wood, that I can meet withal, good or bad, one amongst another, but that I seek to make some use of it, and study to serve myself with it, only that I may the better serve thee. And if that which I have said, seem unto thee to be well said, it is well that I have said it: but if it seem ill unto thee, read it not over any more, nor go therein a jot farther. For it is all 
q Todo es matas, y por rozar. id est, Todo es trabajoso, y difficultoso. Ib. verb. Rozar.  mountainous matter, rough and craggy, wherein perhaps, thou shalt meet with more pain, than profit, yet do thou but write the like, and I shall patiently endure whatsoever thou shalt say. But I will conclude this Chapter with telling thee; That when misfortune shall follow a man, no diligence, nor good counsel shall avail him; but shall, where he thinks to gather wool, go away with his fleece shorn.   

CHAP. III.  
Guzman de Alfarache, discourseth on the injustice, which some judges do, blinded by gain, or by passion.  
I Came out of prison, as out of a prison. I need not to endear it more unto you. For, the least I can say of it, is; That it is a true and lively picture of Hell itself. I got forth, out of a desire that I had to enjoy my former liberty; and had I not (think you) great cause to desire it? For he, whom they had so unjustly bereaved of it, had good cause to fear greater dangers to ensue. For if so just and so fair a business, as this was, did fadge so ill with me at the first, and that my Adversary had the better of the day of me, when I thought myself surest of the victory; I might very well, and with a great deal of reason persuade myself, that in negotiating the rest, I should find much difficulty. Perhaps these men think, that God sleepeth. But do not withal consider, that even those, who had no knowledge of him, both did, and do fear him.  
Aesop ask Chilo, what God did: How he spent his time: And in what he did busy and employ himself: Told him; In exalting the humble, and in 
God exalts the humble, and humbles the proud.  bringing down the proud. I am a sinful man, a lewd liver, and a naughty fellow; and sithence they did inflict punishment upon me, sure I must be in some fault. For it is not to be supposed, that an honourable judge, one that professes knowledge, and holiness of life, will be won either by favour, by gifts, or by fear, to pervert the course of justice, or to lay so heavy a burden on his tender conscience. Especially considering with themselves; That every man shall be rewarded according to his works. But let them go as they are. For the judges of the earth must be judged; and therefore I will not judge them, nor grind them any more with this stone. I had now been taught experience to my cost, and sufficiently beaten with mine own rod, insomuch that having been once scalded with hot water, I was now afraid of cold. That from that day forward, I would neither pass by the Tyrrone, which was the place of justice, nor by the prison, nor scarce come within four streets where they were. Not so much for my imprisonment, but for the wrong I received therein, contrary to all Law, and reason. I did not see a hackneyman with a wand in his hand, nor a Carrier with a cudgel under his arm, but I presently thought upon the 
a Vare, quasi Virga.  Vare, or rod of justice. Ever after I resolved with myself, rather to sit down with loss, then to go to trial of Law; at least to use all the means that I could to the contrary, till I saw there was no other remedy, being compelled thereunto rather by force, than necessity. The reason moving me there-unto, is that counsel which I gave another in the time of my imprisonment.  
There was a certain fellow brought to prison, for that he had bought a mandilion, which they said, was stolen, the owner whereof was my very good friend. Who told me, that albeit he knew, that the party imprisoned, was a person not to be suspected to be consenting to any such base kind of pilfrings, yet at least, he would make him, to bring forth him, that sold it him; for when that mandilion was stolen, be lost many other things with it, and therefore, though he might have his mandilion restored unto him, he would not rest so contented, but would either lose it, or recover the rest.  
I told him; Sir, you are my friend; The Law is costly, and therefore let me advise you not to enter into it; you are fairly offered, and therefore (if you be wise) take your mandilion, lest you spend your cloak, to recover your coat; 
No ●…od comes of ●…ng to Law.  you will get nothing in the end by the bargain; clo●…ke, and coat, and whatsoever else you pretend, will go all away in fees, so that the Lawyer at last will have all, and yourself nothing. He would not be ruled, and being (as all self-willed men are) strongly wedded to his own opinion, he flarly told me he would go to a trial with him, and see what would come of it. For he assured himself, that he had a great deal of reason on his side, and that his Proctor, and his Advocate had told him, that he needed not to doubt of his cause, and that it would surely pass on his side. In conclusion, he had spent some fifteen days in following the suit against him; in all which time there was no fault to be found against the prisoner; but proved himself in the end to be an honest man; whereupon, he was presently freed out of prison; my friend perceiving at length, how he had played the fool, repented himself of the lost time and charges, which he had spent in the suit. So that he was forced to sell his cloak, & was yet never a whit nearer the recovery of his mandilion; & I doubt not, but the Lawyers stripped him to the very shut, before they had done with him.  
Let those therefore, that can excuse it, leave off to go to Law; for your Lawsuits, are like unto your Mats; whereunto, they that make them, go adding one by one, rush to rush, and never make an end, till they cut them off, 
The nature of Lawsuits.  or clean rid their hands of them.  
Lawsuits, belong properly to great persons, and for great and important 
Lawsuits, for whom they are fittest.  causes; for they have wherewithal to hold plea, and are able to maintain it. To these, the doors are set wide open, they are usherd in by the officers of the Court, all show respect unto them ●…d if they spend their money, they have money to spend. But as for thee, and me, we must for the recovering of five Royals, spend fifteen, and lose a hundred more in the loss of our time, besides a thousand troubles, and as many enemies, which we shall get thereby. And worse will it go with us, if we shall chance to go to Law with one, that is mightier than ourselves; for, that a poor man, should go to Law with a rich man, is all one, as if he should offer to wrestle and try his strength with a Lion, or a Bear. It is true, some such there have been, that have given them the foil, and sometimes quite overthrown them, but this hath seldom happened, and when it doth, it is held so strange a thing, that it is accounted as a wonder, or some rare miracle. Those jests are unsavoury 
b No sonbuenas burlas, l●… que salen à la cara. , that turn to a 
Proverb.  man's hurt. It is no sporting with edge tools. Dost thou not see, and know, that these kind of men, will make the Sun to shine at midnight? And that they cast out devils in the name of Belzebub? But as for us, poor souls, La lechona, nos pair gozqu●…s; All things go cross with us; especially, in causes 
Proverb.  criminal, where the street of justice, is of that great breadth and length, where the judge may easily wind himself, whither, or which way he will, go on this, or that side of the street, or to keep the middle way, as he himself shall have most mind to. He can either lengthen, or shorten his arm, and reach out his hand, either to help thee, or to hurt thee, according as it shall have a feeling of the business.  
And therefore, to him, that will not wilfully cast himself away, but desires 
Good counsel, for those that go to Law.  to have a fair end of his business, my advice is; That he gild the judge's books, and present the public Notary with a silver pen; So may he quietly lay himself down to sleep, and take no farther thought for the matter, nor stand in need of Doctor, or Proctor, to plead and solicit his cause. If that course were taken in many Cities of Italy, which is used in divers other Provinces, yea also among the very Barbarians; with whom, when any one is absolved or condemned, the judge sets down in his sentence under his own hand, the cause that moved him to give such sentence, and upon what grounds he did it; surely, there would a great deal less evil come of it; for, if he could show good reason for that which he did, he need not be ashamed who sees it, and the party thereby, whom it concerneth, shall remain well satisfied; But in case he shall not have proceeded therein according unto Law, but hath dealt unjustly in sentencing the business, some other superior judge shall be appointed to rectify that wrong, and to amend the others error. And I knew a judge my 
A judge on an ill condition, and a worse conscience.  self, to whom a Merchant paid a round sum to have him pass a sentence on his side, thinking thereby so to affright the adverse party, that despairing of any hope of good in his suit, he might draw him to what composition it pleased him: Which a particular friend of his understanding, came unto the judge, and told him; I wonder, Sir, how you could sentence this cause in this manner, being so contrary, as it is, to all Law and reason. To whom, the judge answered, That it made no great matter. For he was but a subalternal judge, and that there were other judges, that were his superiors, who might (if they would) reverse that sentence, nor should the o●…her lose any thing at all by that, which he had given against him.  
Such kind of men as these, will not stand much upon committing these and the like errors, nor examine themselves, whether they do well or ill in it; for with them it is not accounted a fault, though it may truly be called Error de praesenti, an error in the Indicative Mood, a most foul fault: for in so doing, he doth rather deceive, than judge. But in my poor opinion, he is a fool, that may, and will not shun Lawsuits; And in good Philosophy, Minus est dam●…, 
Wise is that man that avoids going to Law. Injuries to be borne withal.  unum sufferre, quam multos; It is less harm, to suffer at one than many men's hands. When thy adversary does thee an injury, it is one alone, that does it; and by him only dost thou suffer. But if thou go about to revenge it, go which or what way soever thou wilt to work, thou leapest (as we say) out of the 
c Saltaste de la sarten all fuego.  frying-pan into the fire; and seeking to avoid one inconvenience, 
Proverb.  thou run'st headlong into another; nay into many, one upon the neck of another. Wilt thou see the truth of this? I will show thee the ways then, wherein 
Your Taverneros in Spain, are not of that credit as your Vintners with us, being for the most part poor base rogues Into whose Taverns, no man of fashion will come, as holding it to be a discredit so to do. They have but one poor lower room, and dress no meat.  thou must walk.  
First of all; Thou mayst chance to light upon an Alguazil (who is a common Catchpole, or appreh ender of men's persons) a fellow, that hath neither soul, nor shame, who but the other day, was a Tavernero, a seller of wine, as his father was before him, though happily now they keep no shop. And if the father were a thief from the beginning, the son is now the greater of the two. Who either bought that Vare, which he bears, to find him meat to put in his mouth; or else hath hired it of another, as a man doth a mule; He is such a kind of poor, yet unsatiable creature, that he must either steal, or starve; and doth therefore steal, that he may satisfy his hungry maw. And under pretence that he is the King's officer, and carries the King's white wand, or Vare in his hand, throating it out, wheresoever he comes, Alguazil soy, traygo la vara del Rey; I am an Alguazil, and carry the King's staff: he neither fears the King, nor keeps his Laws, but both against the King, against God, & against all law, will he offer thee a hundred excesses, a hundred indignities, both in deeds and in words, that he may move thy patience so far, as to make thee ready to run 
Alguazils are to be avoided.  out into resistance of justice (which is the trap, he sets for thee) and bring thy offence to be criminal; and though thou didst not make any the least stir, 
What kind of fellows they be.  nor hadst any such meaning, yet will he enforce it against thee, and persuade others (all that he can) to believe it.  
I knew an Alguazil in Granada, that had two teeth, that were false and counterfeit, and fastened by art to those other that he had in his head. And in a certain 
A Tale of an Alguazil of Granada.  broil or quarrel that suddenly arose in the street, he coming in among them, he secretly puts his fingers into his mouth, and cunningly pulling them out, causing his gums wherewithal to bleed; did not shame to say, that coming in to make peace in the King's name, they were there beaten out. And albert this business did not succeed so well with him, as he could have wished it, nor took its intended effect, for that the truth thereof came to be known; yet did he not give it over for want of following, but used all the diligences he could, to possess the judges with this falsehood. It will lie in his hands, if thou but speak a word, or wag but a finger, to prove that thou didst give him either ill language, or blows; and then will he presently deliver thee over to his Corchetes 
e Corchete, quasi curuac●…ete, which signifies a clasp, that fastens a garment, and shuts it close. And by allusio●…, those Ministers of justice, which hang about a man, and hale him to prison, are called Corchetes, because of their taking hold like hooke●…. They are the same with your Sergeants yeomen. , with command to carry thee to prison. Behold now, what an honourable calling this is, what a gentle craft, what honest men forsooth, are these your Corchetes, your Sergeants Yeomen, infamous Villains, Traitors, Thiefs, Drunkards, shameless Rascals, nay impudence itself. Insomuch, that a witty Lackay said of himself, when they had angered him; He that says the word Lackay, says a vittailing house; he that says the word Lackay, says a Tavern; he that says the word Lackay, says Cloaca●… immunditiae, all the uncleanness that man can imagine. And that woman, that hath taken the pains to bring forth a son, that proves a Lackay, there is not that wickedness in the world, which may not be presumed, to have proceeded from her. So do I likewise say; that he, that says the word Corchete, (that is, Sergeant or Sergeant's Yeoman) there is not that vice, that villainy, that wickedness, 
The wicked conditions of these kind of men.  which doth not utter itself in that one word. For they have neither soul nor conscience; And are the only true pictures, and most lively images, of the Ministers of hell. So close do they cling unto thee, when thou fall'st into their clutches; and if they do not drag thee by the collar, haling and tugging thee as if they would pull out thy throat, (which thou must acknowledge for a great & singular courtesy) yet at the least shalt thou be so basely used by them, that the Eagle will carry away the fearful Hare with a great deal more clemency and mercy in her sharp talons, than these Hellhounds will thee. They will punch thee, and kick thee, and elbow-beate thy back if thou go not forward as they would have thee, and will revile thee with such base and bitter terms, as if thou wert as bad as they: And for no other cause in the world do they use men thus scurvily and uncivilly, save only to please their master, who they know likes well enough of it; as also for that it is a butcherly and beastly custom that they have long kept, and therefore either cannot, or are loath to leave it. Deeming themselves, both then, and at all times, to be the only Lords and Masters of the world; not considering in the mean while, that neither he, nor they, have any farther power, then to put thee in safe custody, and that without offering thee any the least wrong or injury in leading thee thither.  
Just after this manner as I have told thee, will they violently (though thou be never so willing to go quietly along with them) thrust thee this way, and 
Prisons, and their keepers, what kind of things they be.  that way, never leaving off to trouble and torment thee, till they have brought thee to prison. Now, will you that I shall tell you, what manner of house this is, what the usage, what you are there to endure, and what kind of life you must lead there? you shall meet with it hereafter in its proper place; Let it suffice for the present, that if it shall one day be thy hap to come thither, (which God forbid) after that they have treated thee ill upon the way in bringing thee thither, and peradventure picked either thy purse, or thy pocket, and robbed thee of such moneys as thou hadst about thee, they will put thee into the hands of some churlish jailor, or some underkeeper of his, (as dogged a rogue as his master) who, as if thou wert his slave, will accommodate thee in that ill favoured filthy manner, as he himself shall think fit, nor canst thou hope for better, unless thou come off lively, and pay well for it. Be it better or be it worse, thou must take all patiently, and pocket it with silence; for thou art in his house, not in thine own; and in another body's power, etc. There, neither 
The hard condition of prisoners.  brave, nor threatenings, great words, nor big looks, will stead thee any thing at all; for they are such bugbears themselves, that they awe all, but fear none.  
Then will they bring thee before the Alcayde, or his Deputy, or some such like imperious officer or other, before whom thou must be fain to come with cap in hand, crouching and creeping unto him, studying new inventions of doing reverence and respect unto him; making new kind of legs, and other unaccustomed curtsies and congees unto him; though I count this no such great matter, being rather more troublesome, then hurtful. For I must truly confess unto you, that there are some Alcaydes, that carry themselves as fathers towards those that are brought before them; and for mine own part, I ever found them so towards me, so that I cannot justly complain of them. True it is, they will live by their Offices, as other men do, they have no other means to maintain them, it is the trade, whereunto they must trust. Besides, they come not gratis to these places of government. If they will come by them, they must buy them. Wherefore they do thee a great favour, if they do thee 
judges do a great favour, if they do thee justice.  justice; if by their means thou come to recover thine own, and if they give way to thee, either to escape with life, or to sustain it, or quietly to order thine own house, or to live settled in thy own estate without disturbance, or to defend and make good thy plea. But in ●…ne he is thy Alcayde, he that must judge and censure, either thee, or thy cause; He may, or may not, wish thee well; He hath the Law in his own hands; thy liberty, or imprisonment lies in his power. Well; when thou comest to follow thy cause, thou must go adoring thy Proctor, or thy Lawyer; but bear this in mind too I pray, that I now say unto thee, that I say nothing of him; for that hath its When, and it's Where, its time, and its place, as your 
f Savalo. A known fish, and of a very good relish. And may be called quasi Sapalo, à Sapore. In Latin they call it Alopa, tri●…a, clupea. It usually dies, when it comes into fresh water. Vid. Rondelecius de Piscibus, lib. 7. cap. 15.  Savalo-pyes for the holy week; its week shall come to, when it shall be best in season.  
In brief, that I may not trouble myself twice with one subject, and one and the selfsame kind of people; I plainly tell thee, that they will be thy masters, and that thou must suffer them, and bear with them, and not only be a slave unto thy Lawyer, but to thy Solicitor, the Notary, the Master of the Office, the Clerk of the Pleas, the keeper of the papers, and the boy, that is to go with thy Plea to thy Lawyer. But in case, thou go home to his house, or his office thyself, and thou find him retired into his chamber, or some other private withdrawing room, dispatching of others, and thou stand waiting, looking still when it will come to thy turn to be called in, like those, that standing on the bank of a River, expect a boat to come over unto them from the other side, thou wilt be so tired out with knocking thy heels against aforme, that thou wouldst rather stay the coming forth of some furious Bull, then of him. After all this, when thou hast made a large relation of the whole 
He that hath to d●… with Lawy●…, must dance attendance.  business unto him, and how the case stands, he will tell thee, that he will burn his books, and give over the Law, if thy business go not with thee; This is their common language towards all their Clients, but they neither satisfy their expectation, nor perform their own promise; for I never saw any of them, when their causes miscarried, either burn their books, or leave their practice. And will have one thing or other to excuse themselves; As that the business was not well followed, that diligence was not used therein, which should have been, or that it was his Clerks fault, and none of his, who was out of the way, when his business was to be done, being either gone, at that very instant, with his children to School, or to wait on his Mistress to Church, by whose default the opportunity was lost of drawing the Petition. Your Advocate, hath some smack of the Law, but little of learning. He dictates, but does not write; and the reason is, because they take them too soon from School, that they may with as little loss of time as they can, apply them to these studies, whether that they were sent thither somewhat of the latest by their friends, being kept too long from School at first; or whether out of a covetous desire that they had, to have them fall presently upon the 
g The Books of the Civil Law, which being in many huge Volumes, and scattered pieces, justinian the Emperor caused to be digested into a lesser number, and better form; whence they were called Digests.  Digests, leaving the Principles indigested. As if good writing should not presuppose good reading, and good reading, and good writing together, beget good Orthography, and bring forth at last a good Latine-tongue, which like links that belong to one chain, ought both to be learned, and joined together.  
But of this enough: Let us now pass on to some other Theme. For here, we do but care out our cloaks, and spend our time to little purpose, and less profit. Let us come to your ordinary judge, of whom I have said something 
Your ordinary judge, what manner of fellow he is.  unto you already, nor know I well, what I should say more, save that he makes open sale of justice, hucking with you, to bring you up to their price, and if you refuse to give them, what they require of you, they will plainly tell you, you shall look for no justice from them; for it is worth more than they ask, and that such a one, that stands there by thee, paid a great deal more for it, than he now demands of thee.  
But say thou shouldst appeal, and come to some superior judge, which seldom happeneth, in regard the fish dies here first, or is at least so starved in this 
Your superior judge, what manner of man he is  shallow brook, before it can recover that sea, that it comes thither without any Spawn, poor, and unprofitable. Thy money is all gone, thou art needy, and not able to wage Law, for want of means; There thou shalt not find those private interests, and particular profits which they make to themselves; but thou shalt meet perhaps with passions, which sometimes prove as bad. And as their purses, have not paid for thy breeding, so what care they whether thou be whipped or hanged. Six years, more or less, for which term thou art condemned to the Galleys, what is it to them? It hurts not them; They are not sensible of it; they feel not that, which thou feelest; nor suffer that, which thou sufferest. These, I tell thee, are the Gods upon earth, they go to their goodly houses, where they are well attended; they pass through the streets, where they are honoured, and adored, and feared of the people. What care then canst thou think, or conceive with thyself, that they should take of such a poor soul as thou art? It is in their hands, to save thee, or condemn thee; and so they will deal with thee, as their own passions shall incline them to thy good, or hurt; or as some great and powerful friends shall persuade with them.  
I knew a certain judge in Sevill, who condemned a fellow in poena pecuniaria, to pay such a sum of money by way of mulct for his offence that he had 
A horrible sentence of a judge of Sevill.  committed. Out of which he awarded two hundred ducats to be paid into the Chamber of Sevill by way of fine: with this command or proviso in the sentence; That not being able to pay in the said sum, he should be sent to serve in the Galleys for ten years, and to row at the Oar like a slave, of free cost, without receiving one penny of pay. And when the term of those his ten years were expired, he should be brought back again to prison to the said City of Sevill, and from thence to the marketplace, where he was to be hanged on the common gallows.  
Had it been my case, before I would have given such a foolish sentence, I should rather have ordered it thus; That he should have been hanged first, 
The answer of a country Clown, to an ignorant Painter.  and afterwards sent unto the Galleys; sure, the cart, in this case, should have gone before the horse. jumping for all the world with that which was said to an ignorant and unskilful painter, who talking one day in company, that ere long he would white his house, and afterwards paint it; nay, said one of the standers-by, you shall do much better, if you paint it first, and white it afterwards.  
There are some judges, whose tongues, so outrun their discretion, that whatsoever comes first to mouth, it must out, nay, and must stand for good, though his own judgement upon its better consideration, chide his tongue for being too forward. And if he that is Assessor with him, and is joined as his fellow-Iudge in Commission with him, shall take upon him to moderate the matter, and seem but the least way to cross what he hath done, or shall but abate the least tittle of what he hath decreed, or in any manner at all to mitigate the rigour of his sentence, it is as if you should take a thing from the Altar; so sacred, do these unhallowed judges, hold their own actions; Taking it as an indignity, not to be endured. Look well into the business then, and consider with thyself, how much the lesser evil it is of the two, that he that hath offended thee, should go away with this his insolency, and thou thereby remain free from some great inconvenience. Which thou oughtest to permit, not only (as hath been said before) that thou mayst not be subject to so many; but also, that thou mayst not hurt thyself, by putting thy house out of order, and (by consequence) thy honour and person in peril, as also that of thy wife, thy children, and thy whole estate.  
But perhaps thou wilt say unto me: O, it is not fit, that this Villain, that hath thus wronged me, should carry it away so, and laugh at me when he has 
It is a good thing in any man, to neglect 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  done. I confess it is not fit, nor is there any reason, why it should be so: yet, if thou must needs be laughed at, it were better but one should laugh at thee, than many. For if thou wilt but hold thy peace, and seem not to be moved at it, but to let it pass, and take no notice thereof, only he can laugh at thee in his sleeve that hath done thee this wrong; but if thou seek to right thyself by Law, and be afterwards overthrown, thousands will laugh at thee, that thou shouldst be such a fool, to cast away thy money so wilfully amongst the Lawyers, having bought nothing therewith but mere smoke, and a little of their unprofitable breath; and that Lawyer, will scoff and deride thee most, that hath put thee in most hope, because by that means he hath most picked thy purse.  
Well, you will say, it may be so, I care not for all this; Let the worst come, that can come, there are many Churches to fly unto for shelter, and the world is wide enough for us all. Tell me (thou ignorant man) thinkest thou to excuse one error with another? Suppose the best that can befall thee in this case, it is no more but temporis dilatio, a little gaining of time. Neither there (no not in the Church) wilt thou be able to endure either the Priest, or his Curate, or that worshipful master his Sexton. And what thinkst thou, that thou must suffer, that they may bear with thee, and give thee leave to stay amongst them? Thinkst thou, there is no more in it then so, to say, I will go to some Church, or other, and there take Sanctuary? Thou wilt meet with more troubles there, than thou art aware of. This incommodate accommodating of thyself, will cost thee money, nor canst thou continue there for ever. Thinkest thou it so small an inconvenience, to leave thine own home, and so to go seek thy fortune in foreign Countries? If haply thou be a Spaniard, (as I myself am) wheresoever thou shalt come, thou art sure to be an unwelcome guest, thou shalt be ill received amongst them, how fair a show soever they make thee; for we have this advantage of all other nations in the world, that we are more abhorred 
The Spaniards hated in all places, and of all persons.  in all places, and of all persons, than any other people under the Sun; but whose fault it is, I know not. Thou goest wand'ring through deserts, from Inn to Inn, from a private lodging, to a common vittayling house. Thinkst thou, that they are all honest people, that have for their Patron the good King, Don Alonso? Innkeepers, and Vittaylers, thou knowest not (poor silly soul) what kind of vermin they are, and therefore thou settest so light by them, and seekest not to fly from them.  
Lastly, thou shalt endure many inconveniences in these thy travels abroad; suffering heats and colds, wind and rain, bad weather, and bad ways, and 
The inconveniences that befall Travellers.  with it the distasteful company of diverse distinct Nations; one while it raines, another while it snows, the rivers rise, and thou canst not pass, night is near, and thy Inn far off, it grows dark as pitch, and the clouds furiously discharge upon thee their lightning and thunder; and for that thou art of an impatient spirit, thou hadst rather dye a thousand deaths, then endure it.  
Go to then; go thy ways at last; leave off these thy idle thoughts of going to Law; sit down rather with loss, and live in peace. For it is better 
Good counsel for those that will live 〈◊〉 quiet.  that the world should say of thee, that thou art a patient wise man, than a revengeful fool. What have they either done, or said unto thee, that thou keep'st such a coil, and that no man was ever so wronged, as thou art? If that be true, which they have spoken of thee, it is thou that hast given them cause so to do; and if they lie, a lie is a lie, and he that lies, let him go like a liar as he is. And therefore he did not thee so much wrong as himself, nor hast thou any reason to be revenged on another by endangering thyself. Neglect him, and let him go for a knave, as he is; for thou canst not take a fuller revenge of him, nor punish him more, then to let him pass for an idle fool, and follow thine own business. I have spoken enough of this, think upon it, it may make much for thy good, if thou wilt well weigh, what I have said unto thee. But I must return again into my old way, and now I am entering into it.   

CHAP. IU.  
Guzman de Alfarache, being freed out of prison, falls to gaming, gets money; Whereupon, he resolves with himself to go to milan.  
I Came out of prison, and got me to my lodging, being as sad and melancholy, as I was poor and miserable; 
Guzman comes heavy and melancholy out of prison.  saying to Sayavedra; What dost thou think of the good market, that we have made in this fair? We may make merry with the gains we have got, this will serve for once to keep us out of beggary, we need no money now, let us spend, and be lively. Consider now I pray with yourself, upon what a sure ground they go, who seek to recover their own by Law. He told me, Sir, I see how things are carried, for I have been an eyewitness of all that hath past; but what remedy is there to be had, against the passions and private interests of judges, and the force and power of the potent? But that which toucheth me nearest, and grieves me most, is; That you will find fault with me, and be offended with me, that I have been the instrument of this your wrong, and more particularly at this present by that counsel and advice, which I gave you, to recover your goods. Which though it were done all for the best, hath unfortunately fallen out to the worst. Sed homo proponit, & Deus disponit. Man proposeth one thing, and God disposeth another. Who would ever have dreamt, that things would have fallen out as they do? What should him say unto it? There is now no help for it. For as a man cannot avoid the stone, which a fool throws by chance ou●… a house, and kills him therewith: So, much less was it to be imagined, or once to be suspected by us, that such a business as this, so fair, and so full of truth, should prove so dis-proportionable, and so quite opposite to our understanding.  
Whilst we were thus talking of this matter, there comes me a couple of guests that were strangers into the Inn, challenged by a young man of that City, to play at Cards. And in a little square room, that divided their chamber from mine, they had set up a table, and to play they go. Now I walking up and down that way, in my passing to and fro, seeing what passed amongst them, I was desirous (for to entertain the time, and to drive away melancholy) to draw nearer unto them, and to look upon them. I did so, and pulling a stool unto me, taking that which came first to hand, I sat me down, viewing one of their hands for the sp●…ce of some two hours, or more, in all which time there was little or nothing lost on either part. The money went to and fro; losing one while, and getting another; Fortune had showed herself so equal, that she had made them in a manner all saviours; what was won, was not worth the speaking of, there being no difference to be discerned in that they had drawn before they began. Every man entertained himself with his own money which he drew at first, expecting a lucky pull, whilst I in the mean while had a shrewder pull in mine own bosom. They had not that griping themselves, yet did they cause it in me, without any other why, or wherefore, 
The nature and condition of those that stand by, looking upon Gamesters.  save only by my looking on his cards, by whom I sat, when either he lost through want of good carding, or well-playing of his game.  
O what a strange nature are we made of, which I speak not only of myself, but of all in general; for no●… any one of these men being known unto me; nor having ever seen them before in my life, (for this was the first flight I had made of coming abroad since the time of my imprisonment) having never conversed with them heretofore, being all alike strangers unto me, yet me thought I was much joyed, and was glad with all my heart, when he did win, my affection inclining to have fortune show herself more favourable unto him, than the rest; and on the contrary was sorry, when I saw he lost. See what a kind of sin this was in me; how unprofitable to myself? how foolish and to no purpose, to desire that the other two might lose, that he might rise the winner, and go away with their money, as if myself had been interessed therein, or as if they had got it from me, or were bound to let me have it.  
O, what an indiscretion, what an ignorance is it, to lay other men's burdens on our own shoulders; which are neither of any moment in themselves, nor of any benefit unto us! One stands peeping out at his window, and another 
Needless curiosity.  with his head half out at his door, watching only to see, who went out of his neighbour's house before day, who came in at midnight, what they brought in, and what they carried out, led only thereunto out of an idle and needless curiosity; by reason whereof they run into a thousand suspicions, a thousand jealousies of such things, which never were, nor could be, much less to be gathered from them, or any way in the world to be imagined by them. Brother, or Sister, who ere thou be, get thee gone, leave off thy prying into others actions, God help us all; thou dost not know, whether such a one 
Men ought not to pry into other men's actions.  sinneth, or not sinneth; whether he doth this, or that other thing, or doth it not: and it may be, that he doth not sin, but I am sure that thou dost sin in doing as thou dost. Tell me, what doth his death, or his life, his going in, or his coming out, concern thee? What good dost thou get by it, or what reward do they give thee, for that thy nights watching, so ill bestowed on thyself, and others? What honour, shalt thou reap by his dishonour? What contentment canst thou take therein? Say, by this diligence of thine, thou mayst haply have occasion to do him some friendly office, and bestead him in time of need. It may be so. But this is so contrary a thing, to men of such base condition, that I assure myself, nay I dare to seal it with an oath, that thou wouldst not do it.  
If thy neighbour, fearing some thiefs would come that night to rob him, should speak unto thee to take the pains to sit up & watch his house for him, & should very earnestly entreat thee so to do, tell me, and lie not, what wouldst thou say unto him? what answer wouldst thou make him? Certainly, thou wouldst tell him, That thou hast enough to do, to look unto thine own, that every man is bound to respect himself first; and that thou wilt not stand freezing in the cold, nor endanger thine own health for to benefit another. How comes it then to pass, that to do thy neighbour a good turn, and to exercise thy charity towards him, thou wilt not watch a quarter of an hour with him, and yet, that thou mayst bring his faults to light, and lay open his 
Profitable counsel for curious observers of other men's faults.  spots to the S●…nne, thou wilt thus play the fool to sit up a whole night to see if thou canst light upon any oblique action, that thou mayst lay in his dish hereafter? Dost thou not perceive by this time, how ill this doth become thee? Seest thou not, that I say the truth? Thou canst not (if thou wilt but examine thyself) but know, that it were better for thee, and would stand a great deal more with thine own health, to get thee to bed betimes, and to look how things go at home in thine own house, and to let those of thy neighbour alone. Wilt thou, to do him a despite, charge thine own soul with those sins, of which thy neighbour is free, whence his comes to be saved, and thine to be damned? Such a one plays to win, and to increase his stock, and it grieves me forsooth, that such a one should win, or such a one lose. Just so it goes, and no otherwise. If thou take pleasure in looking on those that game, 
M●…n that look upon Gamesters must 〈◊〉 fr●… passion.  look on (if thou canst) without passion. But thou canst not do it; for thou art, as I am; and thou wilt do, as I do. Of the two, I should hold it the lesser evil, that thou shouldst play thyself, then look upon another's game with such like passion; For he that plays, it is well enough known, that he desires to win; and this is a battle, that is fought between two wits, or four. Thou, being confident of thy good fortune, dost adventure thy money, at least thou desirest, that they may not carry it away from thee, thou seekest to defend thyself as well as thou canst, and thou settest thyself down to play with that credence and belief, that thou mayst as well lose, as win, and as well get theirs, as they get thine; In this thou seem'st to have some reason, and deservest to be excused. But that only by looking on, a man of reason, and understanding, whom the business nothing concerns, should be so blinded with passion, as to be affected, or dis-affected in that violent fashion, tell me if I do amiss, in styling him to be a man deprived of true judgement, and whether I may not lawfully condemn him for it. But to return to our purpose; Continuing their play, within a little while after, the Sea began to swell, the 
The effects of game, and gamesters.  waves grew high, and the money began to swim from one side of the board to the other, their bloods waxed hot, and their choler began to kindle, they were now at their close fights, watching but advantage to board, or sink each other; they grappled hard for it on all sides, & the Cards likewise they played their parts, and laid about them for life, bestirring themselves lustily, and gave one of them such a blow on the head with his club, that he was strucken over board, and he and all his money sunk, having lost in that fight above a hundred Crowns. And this man, that had this great blow given him, was he in whose hand I looked. Of whose loss I was as sensible, as if the case had been mine own; thinking with myself, that I had brought him this ill luck, and that I was the instrument of this his bad fortune. Which did grieve me so much the more, for that I understood, that he was not worth in all the world so much more, as he had then lost.  
Gaming aught to be used for two manner of ends; either for mere gain, 
Gaming, is used for two causes.  or to entertain the time. If for gain, I say nothing unto it, save that those, who bend themselves that way, are like unto Pirates, that put themselves forth to sea to purchase some prize. Capiat qui capere potest; catch, he that can catch; Let every one arm his own ship, as well as he can, and have an eye to the bullets that fly about his ears, and those other warlike weapons which they use in such kind of fights. Who go scouring the Seas a whole year, in hope to meet with one lucky day.  
They that play for entertainment, should be only such, whom the Cards themselves do mark and point out unto us; In them, shall we pick out some learning; for if we shall but consider the Kings 
a The Court-Cards are called in Spain, Rey, Cavallo, y Sota. The first is the King, as with us; The second signifies a Knight, which is all one with our Queen; And the third a Soldier, which is the same with our Knave. , the Queens, and the Knanes, that are there pictured and painted forth unto us, from the uppermost of all the other, to the lowest, which is the Ace, you shall not find any portraitures or shapes as in the former; giving us thereby to understand, that none should play there-at but Kings, Queens, and Knanes. I can assure you that in all the whole pack of Cards, you meet not with any Merchants, Tradesmen, Lawyers, nor Divines, for they are not befitting their professions. The very Aceses, speak as much unto us; for from the Knave, or rather Sota, which is the Soldier, down to the Ace, which is the least and last Card, thou shalt see nothing else but spots, admonishing us thereby, that all (except the aforesaid) are but Asses, that shall offer to play at Cards. And such another Ass was this my adoptive son, in losing that, which perhaps was none of his own, nor had wherewith to pay, at least could hardly spare it.  
But I will not strain this string so hard, that I should quite debar men of these noble entertainments; for I will not call him a gamester, who plays but now and then for his recreation, once, or twice, half a dozen, or half a score times in a year, for this cannot hurt him much; especially if he do not play out of a greedy desire of gain, but only for sport and pastime. Howbeit I hold it a thing impossible, that a man should set himself to play, without a 
〈◊〉 gamesters desire to win.  desire to win, though it should be but for a pin, and that he play, with his wife, or his son. For although a man do not stake money (and so cannot be said to play for covetousness of the coin) yet the opinion of a man's understanding and judgement, lies then at stake, and there is no man so mean spirited, and of that weakness of nature, that would willingly be beaten by another, if he could otherwise choose.  
This my man, I told you of, was one of the guests to the house, where I lay, the win were divided between his companion and the Citizen; the quarrel ceased for that time, and a fresh challenge was made against after supper. And so they broke off, the winners going each their way, as their several occasions lay; and the loser, to look out more money. I doubt not but he used all the diligence he could to get more (for gamester's soldome want money to game, though scarce ever have any to pay their debts:) but because it is a 
Money, hard to be got.  massy kind of mettle, and weighs very heavy, it sinks down still to the bottom, and is long and hard a getting up again; he could not (it should seem) get any money, yet he came thither, though without it; more offended with those that would not lend it him, then with those who had got it from him. He went walking and raging up and down the room, puffing 
Losers grow impartent.  and blowing like a Bull; all the whole chamber was too little for him. One while he walks athwart it, another, stalks along from one end to the other, then again flings me from one corner to the other corner, huffing and chafing, nothing could content him, all was vexation of spirit, he rails upon the City, and upon that traitor, that was the cause of his coming thither, that that was no Country for honest men to dwell in, but for thiefs and cutthroats, being that he had in that town, a hundred known friends, and all of them rich and well moneyd men, yet could he not borrow one Royal 〈◊〉 them all, and began to swear that he would do this, and that, and I know not what, if it should be his hap to meet with any of them in his own Country. I gave him the hearing, and held my peace. And when he went into his chamber, I might hear him sit down on his bedside, and might from mine, hear likewise the blows, which he gave with his fist upon the table that stood by him.  
I called Sayavedra aside, and told him; Occasion is now offered unto me, either 
Guzman means to venture add his money at play, and to make himself either a man, or a mouse.  to get out of my troubles, or to get me to an Hospital. And seeing that small store of money which is remaining unto me, is not so much, as to sustain us any long time, let us sup well, or go to bed with a jar of water, all's one, as good to day, as to morrow, for hold out much longer we cannot. What thinkst thou of this? tell me thy opinion, whether I shall play the fool, or the wise man in doing that which I intent? Shall it not be well done, that after supper, when the same company shall meet again together, wanting a third to maintain the combat, I should come forth as a challenger into the lists, adventuring to run my Lance amongst the rest, putting myself upon fortune either to lose, or win the honour of the day, by hazarding those few Crowns that I have? Sayavedra made answer unto me, That I should have him ever ready at hand upon all occasions, being that he had now set up his rest to do 
Sayavedra offers to discover to Guzman the others games.  me service, and that he would carefully do whatsoever I would have him, spoke I in earnest, or in jest, and were it good, or ill that I should undergo, he would always stick close unto me, and be still at mine elbow, to perform that which I should be pleased to command him. Yet norwithstanding, that upon this occasion, I might not come off with dishonour (for we were then driven very low, and almost brought to beggar's bush) it were good to secure the business. Wherefore he would marshal things in that manner, that both safely, and subtly, he would range all over the field, and evermore give me advice of my adversary's forces, and how and where their strength lay, and when I was to charge them home, as likewise to make my retreat; so that he keeping a true account of their Cards, and the numbers wherewith they were to set upon me, it was not possible that I should lose. When he had said thus much unto me, a man might have pulled my skin over mine ears, and I should never have felt it, for I was for very joy, ready to leap out of it myself; for my ability at play, and the skill and cunning that I had in handling the Cards, being holpen by his advice, there was no doubt to be made, but that I might easily convert three parts of their money to mine own use. Saying secretly to myself; No ay mal, que no venga p●…r bien: There is no ill, which doth not turn to our 
Proverb.  good. And it may be that by this means, I might recover myself of those losses, which I had so lately received. I did long myself to have told him as much, but I did desire this base action, should proceed rather out of his mouth, then mine. For I was willing in this to keep that decorum which beseemeth 
Master's must keep a decorum with their servants.  a Master with his servant. For otherwise, if this trick should have been played out of my hand, Sayavedra would happily have said to himself; See, what a fine master I serve! I have rid myself of a thief, and have lighted upon a cheater. What a tree have I taken, whereunto to lean? Had it not been better for me to have gone and leaned against a wall? Yes certainly, for that would not have thus deceived me. Stay, stay, (Sayavedra) for all you were my friend, it was no part of my meaning, to open my mind unto you in that strain, do you enter first, and you will, upon the point of my sword, and if you have a mind to it, come on a God's name when you please; for I promise you, you shall first confess yourself to me, before you have any confession from me; I will have a pawn first from you, before you have any pledge from me. But when we 〈◊〉 once unmasked ourselves, and cast off all disguises on either side, let us come off freely, deal plainly one with another, I will speak what I think, ●…nd thou shalt speak what thou thinkst; Let us jump as well in breadth, as in length, and then there will be little odds and difference between us in the rec●…oning. There he and I were disputing a great while with ourselves, which ●…gnes would ●…e best, whereby we might come to know both the others hands; And at last it was resolved on, that the best manner of doing it, would be by 
Guzman's and Sayavedras' drift.  the buttons of his jerking, or the joints of the fingers, according to the art of the Gammuth, when we learn first to sing. And having made trial thereof some three or four bouts, we grew so ready and so perfect therein, that we now understood one another better by these our tokens, than our tongues.  
Now were the challengers entered the lists, whilst I was walking up and down there in the room with my Rosario in my hand, like a Hermit, my servant being in the mean while in my lodging. They began to talk of falling afresh to play; whereupon, the third man told them what had passed, and that he could not meet with those his friends that should have furnished him with money, but if they would trust him upon his word, till the next day morning, see whatsoever he should lose unto them upon the ticket, he would truly pay them. The Citizen said, that he should be well content therewith for his part, but told him withal, there was no heart in it, and that it was a kind of dull and tedious sport, and that he had never any good luck, but did always lose, when he played upon the Ticket. But the other would by no means give way thereunto. Whereupon their gaming was at the best, the company was upon breaking off, and every one going his way; but when I saw this good conversation was upon dissolving, leaving my Beads to keep their own reckoning, I stepe forth, and said unto them; Since this Gentleman doth not play, so as you will not play too great play, but only for entertainment, and no more, but to pass away some part of the night, and that so holy a work may not be left off for want of a third, if it please you, I will put myself upon the Cards, and try for a while how well they will deal with me. The other two, were very glad of this, the motion pleased them passing well; for they took me to be some young Thrush, that was new crept out of the shell, and had not my bill grown out, and was not able to peck at any thing. Making reckoning, that all was their own, if they got me in to play, and that my money was as sure theirs, as if they had had it already in their purse. And for that they thought, if I should chance to lose my money, I would also venture my chain (which I of purpose discovered unto them by unbuttoning my jerkin) and if I were once bitten, and began to bleed, being a young man, as I was, I would not have the patience to give over, but throw the pothooks after the pot, and the helue after the hatchet, and lose all, that I was able to make.  
Well, we were now set down, and ready to go to the business, whereupon 
The cheating tricks that are vs'din gaming.  I called for Sayavedra, and said unto him; Go fetch me some money, if you have any silver left, bring it me quickly. He presently drew out a hundred royals, which I had given him before, that he might have them in readiness, when I called for them. He abiding a while in my chamber, till our play grew a little warm, and then calling him to snuff the candles, I said unto him, seeming as if I had been angry with him; Are we to be used thus by thee? Have you so much business to do in the chamber, or are you so drowsie-headed, that you cannot stay here in the room, if we should at any time have occasion to use you? He said never a word, but stood still, and held his peace, insomuch that no man in the world would have once suspected any harm from him, for he never offered so much as to cast but an eye upon me, nor did he at any time remove his hand from his bosom, by which means he gave me true knowledge how their games went. And howbeit, we understood one another well enough, I would sometimes of purpose seem not to understand him, nor would I make use of his wary advice, but when I had won two or three hands, I took pleasure now and then to lose a little. I did suffer them now and then to draw my money, but neither much, nor often, left when they had me on the lift, they might have left off: I was content they should touch it, but not enter upon it; and afterwards I would charge them home, that I might, having once nettled them, egg them 〈◊〉 the more. I did skirmish with them in that cunning manner, that I made them still come on more and more eager upon my money. But when I began to suspect, that they would give over the fight, and sound a retreat, and that they were to leave the field, and be gone, I then thought fit to pursue them to some purpose, and to follow the chase a little more hotly, till I saw them safe in the net, and had them in my hands, to do what I would with them, and then did I set roundly upon them and their money, bringing it all under my subjection in a very short ●…ace, few blows being strucken in the battle. I had got of those two, all that they had gained of the other before. Whereof they were so ashamed, and so stung withal, that they swore they would have another bout with me the next day, challenging me again at the same game. I willingly accepted of it. They came, we played, and I was willing to let them win some thirty Crowns of me, which they carried away with them, giving over play for th●…●…ime; for, this loss, was but a bait that I laid for them, knowing that this would flesh them, and put them in heart anew, and make them come on bravely at our next meeting. Yet one of them was willing to continue longer, and said; Let us play greater game, for that the night grows late. Nay (quoth 1) by the same reason, it were better that we go now to bed, and meet again to morrow, which if you like of it, and be at leisure, we may come together somewhat sooner, and taking the day before us, we may play at pleasure, and as long as we lift. They were wondrous glad to hear me say so, and that they had yet lost somewhat unto me, hoping in the end that they should get more by me.  
The next day they came, with their purses well armed with double pistolets, well appointed for war, they threw down whole handfuls of them upon the board, some being pieces of two, some of four, and some of ten, seeming to make no more reckoning of them, then if they had been so many pieces of copper coin. Saying, as they flung them down; Coraggio, coraggio (Senor Soldado) see you what here is, to be spent in your service? I told them; Although I am not so rich, as to be able to do you service with so large a supply of money, yet at least my good will shall not be wanting to attend upon you, as your servant. I was about to tell them, that I did not doubt e●…e long to see this fair company of these glittering men at arms to come and march under my colours. We began to play, and I went wearying of them out by little and little, giving them line enough to run themselves out of breath, and when I saw, that I had now brought them even with me, and that I might strike them both dead at once, I let fly a whole volley of shot at them, and in a few hands, I saw in these hands of mine above five hundred Crowns, which yielded themselves up to my mercy, whom (out of the pitifulness o●… my nature) I took into my protection. The main battle being thus overthrown, my two Captains were fain to forsake the field, after these their bravadoes, and to try if they could levy fresh men, and raise new forces to encounter me again the next day, promising to bid me battle, if I durst abide it. I was not a little glad to hear them say so, as well for that I had let them blood both alike; as also, for that my heart was now pretty well at quiet; holding myself very well pleased with that which I had gotten of them, being as well contented, as if I had won all that they had been worth. For I had now enough to serve my turn, and what should I desire more? But I cannot express unto you how glad I was, that they should give over fi●…st; for it was a rule, which I ever observed in my play, that I would not willingly g●…ue any the least occasion of difference; and therefore did evermore lea●…e it to the losers own good liking, to play, or not to play; referring it to his choice, as he himself had most mind to. They went away in a good hour; and I fearing, that this Townsman, might put a Towne-tricke upon me, and that the stranger, being in need, and in want, might do me some wrong (for I was lately, to my great cost, too well acquainted what good justice a man was to look for in that City) I told Sayavedra, when we were alone by ourselves, that without any word speaking, or telling any body, whither we intended to go, we would take horse betimes in the morning, and post with all speed to milan. And so we did, leaving them full of sorrow, but not so much as one cross of silver, wherewith to bless themselves.   

CHAP. V.  
Guzman de Alfarache, travailing towards milan, Sayavedra upon the way, recounts his own life unto him.  
WE road towards milan, with as great haste, as fear. For Bologna standing so high as it does, it is to be disc●…rned a great way of, the very shadow whereof, did make my heart to tremble, fearing the danger, whereinto it had lately put me. For I was ever of the mind, That there is no fault, but hath his punishment; no ill, but hath his chastisement. Now did I wish, that horses had been borne with wings, that mine might have flown away with me. But miserable wretch that I am, what good would that have done me? it had been all one to me; for than others, would likewise have had the like horses, to have overtaken me. What way so ever I took, I found it all full of thorns, bushes, and brambles, which did scratch, and prick my 
The condition of fear, and fearful men.  guilty conscience; which way soever I went, I was fearful of danger; and the more slowness, the more fear. And he never thinks he flies fast enough, that seeks to fly from a mischief. ay, accompanied with my thoughts, and Sayavedra with his, went jogging on along, but both as mute as fishes; though his were far different from mine. For my care only was, to see myself in some place of safety; and Sayavedra was thinking with himself, how much of this money would fall to his share.  
We road on a great while in this manner; at last, that I might bid fear farewell, which thus troubled me, I sought to shake it off, and if I could, quite to forget it, by entertaining some one thing or other, to turn the stream another way; it seeming unto me, to be no less foolish, for a man, to be too silent upon the way, then to babble and prate too much, in the street. And therefore, that I might be the first to break the ice, I called to Sayavedra, and said unto him; Come, let us talk of something or other, to pass away the time; or do thou tell me some story upon the way, to give me content; it will make our journey the shorter. He then, finding his bowl flung in amongst the rest, and that he was not shut out for a bungler, seeing there was occasion now offered unto him, to speak that, which he longed to utter, he began to break his mind●…, and said thus unto me.  
I wish Sir, that I could tell you a tale, how glad I was, and what a deal of good it did do me, to taste of the sweetness of your gains. But I am so confident of the nobleness of your disposition, that this my coming to serve you (seeing you have been pleased to entertain me for your servant) shall not be only for satisfaction of that debt, wherein I stand bound unto you, but also make much for my profit. I was glad to see this arrow fly forth of his quiver, and that he had touched me upon that string; whereupon, I thus replied unto him.  
Friend Sayavedra; What is past, is passed; and there is no more to be said of it; for there is no man, so much man, and master of himself, which either here, or there; this place, or that; this, or that time, doth not slip in one kind or other. We live all in the flesh; and all flesh is weak. Others, have this weakness, 
All men, spotted w●… one Vice, or other.  some other ways: Every one committeth his error, one in one sort; another, in another. As thou hast in this thing, wherein myself am likewise faulty. God help me in my judgement; for I know not what will become of me. For I find, I have as much cause, as he that hath most, if not more, boldly to undergo any desperate attempt whatsoever. And let him be who, or what ●…e will, (had he found himself in that great want and misery, as we were) he ●…ould have done the like, as we have done: which was no better than plain theft, to cozen these poor men, of that little which they had, which perhaps was all, that they had wherewithal to live: Nor would I at that time, (being in that poor case as I was) have spared any purse whatsoever, had it had a thousand Crowns in it, though it had been of an Orphan, that had neither father, nor mother, to help it.  
And seeing, that we are fallen into this error, and for that I perceive thou 
Guzman's craf●…ie dealing.  hast understanding and judgement to apprehend any thing, and to go through with it, I persuade myself, thou dost likewise comprehend, that I am no Trader in the Indieses, nor any of your rich Fucaro's, but a poor young man, (as thou art) robbed of his substance, and deprived of his necessaries, by such means, as are best known to thyself; nor have I any greater or better profession to live by, then that which thou hast seen in me. Now, because I would not do any thing, that might favour of baseness, or unlike myself, and to bear the same port I did heretofore, I must endeavour to maintain myself (at least) in some reasonable fashion, as every honest man ought to do, not falling a lot from that state and condition of life, wherein my parents left me, and whereunto my so tune had raised me. For albeit I served that Lord of mine, the French Ambassador, and lived in house with him, it was out of that love, which he bore unto me from a child, and upon the earnest entreaty, that he made unto my friends, my father, and he, being of ancient acquaintance, and having lived and conversed long together in Paris. And so he begged me of him, saying; he should take no farther care for me, and that he would one day make me a man.  
But since that things have so fallen out with me as they have, (as in part you yourself know) and that I have left his house, and am now come from him, I am not minded to return thither any more, till I have seen somewhat of the world, and that I may come home rich and in plenty, and be able to live in ease and pleasure, all the rest of my life. Every place 
a Donde quiera, se amasa buen pan.  affords good bread; 
Proverb.  and that of Rome, agrees not with my stomach, for it doth not digest very well with me, but turns to rawness and crudities. And it is no marvel, that all men should seek out some means or other to live; especially, seeing they, that have lesser abilities, endeavour the like. 
Every man would fain live.   
Turn thine eye aside, and look upon as many men, as now live in the world; view, and consider them well, and thou shalt find, that they all go seeking to increase their estates, to advantage themselves the best that they can; and failing in those obligations, whereunto they are tie both in honour, and honesty, by one device or other, this or that trick, every one seeks to advance himself and his fortunes, as high as he can. The King, seeks to 
All seek to make their best advantage.  augment his State, and enlarge his Kingdom; The Gentleman, to raise his House; The Merchant, to increase his wealth, and to drive such a trade, as may turn to his great profit; And the Tradesman, to gain by his Trade: And that not always (by their leave) in that conscionable and lawful fashion as is fitting they should. For it happeneth so with some of them, that first growing knu●…kle deep, and afterwards up to the elbows in ungodly gain, and unjust dealing, they never leave off till they be up to the very eyes, nay over head and ears (I will not say) in Hell, do thou say it for me, whose tongue is bolder than mine, to lay this censure upon them. In conclusion, all the world in this case, is as it were another Rochel; Every man live for himself; get he, that can get; Only they, that are unfortunate, as thou art, pay the punishment of their sin. If thou hadst been a thief of the largest size, I say one of those great ones, that shouldst have gone away with three or four thousand ducats at a clap, thou mightst peradventure have made thy peace, bought out favour and justice, and mightst have passed well enough with them, and have come off clear, as they often do: But those poor wretches, which know not how to negociate, nor have any set rents, no receipts, nor Bills of exchange, nor know how to get a great deal of money into their hands (compounding afterwards for a little) paying back a third part, and that slowly, ill, or never; these poor rogues, I say, that neither have the wit to invent, nor the power to aspire to any great booty, nor to undertake great matters, are (as infamous thiefs) sent to the Galleys, and sometimes hanged, not for thiefs (for thiefs are not hanged) but because they did not well know what did belong to their office, and were not their own crafts-masters. And I will here by the way, tell thee what I heard of a Slave, that was a Negro, entre boçaly ladino, one that was a novice, and was better skilled in his own, than the Country language wherein he lived, being scarce perfect in either; whic●… story will fall in here very fitly.  
In Madrid, in the days of my childhood, where I resided some time, there were adulterers led to execution; and although this sin be very common there, 
A short tale.  and much used amongst them, yet it is seldom punished; for there are never wanting good means, and good moneys; by means whereof these kind of crimes are well accommodated: but at this time, and with this woman's husband, they could work no good. A world of people went forth to see them, especially your women, insomuch that the streets, and the windows were wholly taken up with them, making great moan for that miserable and unfortunate woman. Now when her husband had cut off her head, this Negro spoke 
The sayin●… of a Negro.  out aloud, and said; O God, how many here do behold this sad spectacle, who with a great deal of reason might have the like measure!  
We likewise, may very well say; How many, are there now adays, who condemn others to the gallows, whereon they might better, and with more reason, be hanged themselves. I wonder at nothing in this age, nor am I of that queasy stomach, that any thing should offend me; I will dance to the sound of that Pipe, after which I see others dance; let things last, as they may last; and hold out as long as they can, and then there is an end of them; like unto spoons made of a crust of b●…ead, which we have no sooner supped up our pottage with, but we send them presently packing the same way with the other. And since thou sayest, that thou lov'st my company, & tak'st much contentment therein, and that thou lik'st so well of it, I hope, it shall neither be hurtful unto thee, nor hard to brook it. For I am so good a fellow, and of so ingenious a disposition, that I know how to value and make a true esteem of those kindnesses which are done unto me; the thankful acknowledgement thereof, I shall refer to my actions, which in their due time, shall testify, what I now profess. But because reward is the spur, which puts virtue forward; and the only whetstone, that sets an edge on men's affections; making them to go on bravely and courageously in all that they undertake; And that it argues a baseness of mind, not to reward, when from thence some glory, or benefit may arise; And that a man doth not comply with his duty, when he doth not take any pains for his living; for to that end was he borne, and therewith is he to sustain himself; it is fit, and no more than what is just, that every man should have a proportionable and equal gain, according to the quality of his adventure: And I am very well content to give way hereunto, making this the first stone in this our building; and will treat farther hereafter of that, which is to be ordered and set down between us, in these, or any other the like occasions, that shall offer themselves unto us.  
All that, which shall fall, or come unto our hands, as well those fruits already fallen, as those that are to fall hereafter, shall be divided into three equal parts; 
Guzman purposes to provide for a dear year, and show how it may be done.  of all which thou shalt have one part for thee, and another for me, and the third shall g●…e for to defray the charges of averige, for it wi●…l not be always fair weather; nor shall we still sail before the wind; nor make evermore a speedy voyage; as it happens when men are becalmed at Sea; and when we shall land and come ashore, it is not fit that we should want clothes, and other necessaries, nor must we, if the enemy should set upon us, be un-provided of munition to defend ourselves, and offend him; nor, should we chance by some, storm or other accident, to be cast upon some shelf or quicksand, must we lack a boat to put out, wherein to save our lives, though we lose our goods. This third part, we w●…ll still lay apart by itself, that shall be, as it were the Aerarium, and public Tre●…surie, our common purse, for to supply and relieve our necessities. For, if we go wisely and discreetly to work, and be not rash and inconsiderate in our actions, seeing we want not understanding, and have some skill in navigation, (at least are both of us good Coasters,) I for my part will content myself with no less, than some good place of command in my Country, and such good store of wealth, that I may afterwards live happily all the days of my life. And all this will I bring about, before I be 〈◊〉 years elder. Be therefore of good courage, and take heart unto thee, for thou shalt make the like purchase, wherewith thou mayst return with credit to Valençia. I would not have thee busy thyself in base thefts, nor be none of those ●…eaking thiefs, that steal Primers, Hornbooks, and Ballads; for from such kind of thefts, thou shalt reap no other profit, but infamy, and reproach. In a word, let us bravely resolve, Morir ahorcadoes, o comer contrompetas; Either to 
Proverb.  hang together for company, or to have our dinners served in with Trumpets. Let us dye like dogs, or live like men. For a man's life is ended in a day; but poverty, is a daily de●…th. And if we go on as we have begun, and use these, and the like tricks, we shall with a little practice, grow to greater both cunning, and wealth, and bid a fart in Fears teeth; For all months are alike, be 
Proverb.  they fair or foul, every one hath 
c Todo los meses de a treynta dias.  his thirty days, and no more; Every man must live out his time, how happily, or how miserably, I cannot say; every one must be content with his fortune: And for as much, as in the dark, all Cats 
d A escuras to dos los gatos, negroes.  are black, and jone is as fair as my Lady; we will so carry things in the clouds, 
Proverb.  that we may not appear in our right colours. We two will join together, keep counsel, and deal fairly one with another, dividing the spoil equally, that there may be no falling out between us: For, as it is in the Proverb; Un lobo, a otro, nunca se muerde; One Wolf, will not bite another. Lo here, if thou wilt, thou shalt presently, before we go any farther, have a third part of what 
Proverb.  is already got; for it is not just nor honest, to debar any man of his right, or to withhold that from him, which is his. Much good may it do thee; and thank God, that with so fortunate a foot, and so propitious a star, thou hast lighted thus happily into our company; desiring him, that we may not fall into the hands of Pyrate●…, who have an eye to nothing else, but to run away with the meat, that others have dressed, to lick away the cream, that others have laboured for; and to skim away all the fat from off the pottage, not leaving us any 〈◊〉 that good is.  
With t●…is kind of language, and my liberal carriage, dealing thus kindly and boun●…lly with him, I went securing his person unto me, that he might not forsake me, b●…t st●…y, and live with me. For if I should have sought over all the world for a Mariner, I could not have met with a better Mate for my Bark, nor one, that would so well have suited for my purpose, as Sayavedra. Besides, he being my equal, and every way as good a man as myself, was contented to b●…come my servant, and to acknowledge me for his master, it being no small advantage to have the hand, in most games that you play at. He, upon these good words of min●…, was so overcome, that he rested no less contented, then conquered by me. And so falling, in our future discourse, from one thing to another, (as men use to do when they talk upon the way) I happed at last to ask him the cause, that moved him to rob me? Sir (said he) though I would, yet I cannot now forbear, to acquaint you with the whole course of my life, and truly and faithfully to deliver unto you every particular passage thereof, as well for those favours which I have so liberally received already from your 
Free and plain dealing, holds friends together.  hands, as also for that it is well enough known to the world, and therefore requires no such secrecy; As likewise, for that with those with whom we keep company, and are daily to converse and live withal, plain dealing must be used, and all matters fairly laid open, without the concealing or hiding of any thing: For, not only to our Confessors, our Lawyers, and our Physicians, are we to tell the truth, but to those also that are of our own profession, birds of the same feather; nor was this virtue ever yet wanting amongst us, which is a powerful means for the maintaining of friendship, and the faster wedging of one man unto another. But that I may at length comply with those many obligations, wherein I stand bound unto you; I shall give you (Sir) to understand, That I am of Valençia, borne of honest parents, (whom report may one day make known unto you) for they (God be praised) are now both dead; 
Sayavedra discourseth to Guzman of his course of life.  only, their fame liveth. We were two brothers, and both unfortunate; whether it were, because from children, conu●…rsing continually together, we ran courses alike, and did in all things sort and suit each with other; or whether it were, that suffering ourselves to be carried away with the fury of our vain appetites, without striving to make due resistance, we did give way to this temptation, by consenting thereunto, (or to say more truly) fell into this weakness, not thinking on those future dangers, that were to follow thereupon, but drawn along with those baits, that for the present pleased our taste, being now enured, and accustomed thereunto, we could not (though we would) go back. My other brother, is somewhat elder than myself, and though both of us were of a reasonable good capacity, and had (as they say) our wits and judgements about us, and were not put (as other men are) to seek for them, yet could not this understanding of ours, put a bridle upon our unruly affections; such is, or was the force of our malignant star, and so great the power of our evil inclination, that we could not avoid it. In so much, that laying aside all respects of honour, and to apply ourselves to any set course of life, more out of a desire to see strange Countries, then to get some honest means, whereby to live, we went out into the wide world to seek our fortunes. But because things might not chance to fall out so luckily with us, as we did frame to ourselves, and that if we should come in trouble, we might not be known, nor dishonour our house, we did agree between ourselves, to change and alter our names.  
My brother being a good Latinist, and a fine Scholar, fetched his name, I know not from whence; His own name being juan Marti, of juan, he made Luxan; and of Marti, Mateo; and turning it by inverting the words, he called himself Mateo Luxan. In this manner, did he wander through the world; and the world saith, that it gave him the same payment, as it did me. But I, for that I had no learning, and knew no more than a young Novice in a Monastery, I would not trouble my head with these curiosities, but going the down right way to work, and knowing that the Sayavedra's were of principal note, and ancient Gentlemen of Sevill, I styled myself to be of that City, and took their name upon me. But I was never in Sevill, no●… know any more thereof, than what I have said already.  
Being thus new christened, we set forth both on one and the same day, and began our travails together, but went each of us a several way. Some have told me, who knew him by sight, that they have seen him in Castille, and in Andaluzia very hardly used; and that from thence, he went to the Indieses, where it also went ill with him. I shaped my course another way; for I got me to Barcelona, where in the Galleys I passed over into Italy: I had spent all that, which I had brought along with me from home, and at last became exceeding poor. And because Necessity, doth oftentimes (as they say) drive a man to do that, which he never dreamt of, tossed thus up and down, and cruelly encountered with hunger, I chanced in the end to arrive in the kingdom of Naples; where, I had ever a desire to reside, for the great good which I had heard of that City.  
I travelled all over that kingdom, spending that which I had not, till I came to be a notable Picaro, and began at length to converse with as a●…rant Rogues as myself; and from one round to another I grew up by degrees, to be a fine nimble-fingerd 
d The Spanish p●…rase is; Oficial de la carda. ●…or trasl●…çion dezimos carcar à uno, quando le dan alguna fraterna, y es tratado asperamentè Covarr. verb. Card●….  Fuller, I could teazell clothes singular well, I could pick a pocket very neatly, and cut a purse handsomely, and do many the like fine 〈◊〉. I made myself a Comrade with those that were the Masters of our Company, and had recourse always unto them, that they might cover me under their wing in time of adversity; I was but their servant, and one of those ordinary Soldiers as it were, that fought under their Ensign. For my poverty was so great, that I could never get me into a stock to put me into clothes, or to be able to set up shop for myself. Nor was it an inability or insufficiency ●…n me, that I came no better forward in the world; for there was not such a c●…nning sharker amongst them all, as I was; my shears, would find an edge, when theirs could not cut; they were all bunglers to me; I was able to have ●…ead vn●…o them all those four cursory Lectures of thieving; and those other two of coney-catching and cheating, which I read for my degree, when I proceeded Bachelor in that Art. For I was so well read in those roguish studies, and from the time that I first learned them, had them all so perfect at my finger's ends, that I was not to seek of any one of them. I was that singular Saker, that excellent jerfalcon, that never missed my prey, but took all that I flew at either in City or Country. No game came amiss to me. None of them understood half so well as I, the Art in cutting of a purse; nor to dive into a pocket, so deep, as I could. I was dog at it, and could dispatch my business in a trice. My eye, and my hand, went both together; they were here and there, and every where, with a prestò be gone. I was of all occupations; a mariner, a miller, a baker, a scout, a crosse-biter, one of your upright men, a cheater, a cozener, a fox, that was full of craft and subtlety; none of my standing, no nor six years elder than I, but would strike sail to me, and acknowledge himself as far inferior to me, as the fowl is to the Falcon.  
But by reason of their ancient standing, and the reputation they had got in those former dunsicall times, they tyrannised and usurped on the name of famous professors: These were the Caesars; and we the poor rogues; whom they sent abroad, from house to house, to scour dishes, to cast an eye in every corner, to make one excuse or other wheresoever we came; demanding in one place, whether such a Gentleman were there or no; and in another, whether they wanted a young youth, that was willing to serve them. Ask such a Gentlewoman, whether she would buy a very fine pair of Twizes; which but a little before, we had cut from another Gentlewoman's girdle, and having new ground and whet them, and made them very neat and clean, and fitted them with a new case, and a new ribond, we sold them afterwards away for new ware. Sometimes, we would make show to go into some house to make water, and if we found, that there was a stable there, or other by-roomes belonging unto it, in thither would we go, where we should meet with a horse-cloth, a currycomb, a syve, or the horseman's cloak; and when we could not come to finger any thing else, we should evermore be sure of bridles, and collars, and stirrups, and the like kind of tackling for their Mules and their Hackneys, and if by misfortune, any one should come in, and see us there, losing presently our codpiece point, we would quat us down in a corner of the stable, as if we had been driven in thither by necessity to do that service, which no body can do for us but ourselves. And in case they should say unto us (as now and then they would) you rogue, you thief, what make you here? We would then presently rise up, and pulling up our breeches to make them fast, and be gone, we would while we were a trussing, mildly make answer; I pray Sir be not offended; take heed to whom, and of what you speak; for here is no such kind of man, as you talk of, no thief, no rogue, but one that is true and honest, and means you no harm; I was overtaken in the street, and forced to come in upon mere necessity, and therefore I hope you will hold me excused.  
Some did believe us, and some not, but how-soever we passed well enough with it. Sometimes, we would press farther in, and rummage as it were all the whole house, from one end to the other, till we found somewhat that we might finger, and carry away; and if by chance we were spied by any, we would come crouching unto them with tears in our eyes, beseeching them for God's sake, to give us an alms, being even ready to starve for want of food. With these, and other the like cunning shifts, there was not so much as a nail in any man's wall, which we did not keep a reckoning of, and took away when we saw our time. I was a pretty little wag, slender of growth, rather lean than otherwise, very witty, full of invention, and above all, as nimble, and light-footed as a Buck. I always laid wait in the day time, how and where I should compass my exploits in the night, never embroiling myself in any business at unseasonable times, for the better avoiding of all suspicion; and taking little sleep when I had any thing to set myself about. In the day time, we did (like good Christians) visit Churches, go to Mass, hear Sermons, frequent your Indulgences, jubiles, Feasts, and Processions. We were present at your Playhouses, and Courts of justice, at all Executions, and all other public meetings and assemblies, where there was any concourse of people, any pressing or thronging in the streets, striving to be always in the thickest of the crowd, entering in and out amongst them, passing to and fro a thousand times. For every bout afforded us work enough, making upon every return a good and gainful voyage. One while we brought away daggers, stolen from men's backs; other-while handkerchiefs picked out of their pockets; purses, rosarios, twizes, jewels worn by women; and such odd toys, as your children wear about their necks. And when all failed, and that I could not make that purchase as I would, with my shears (which I had ever ready in my hand) look where the best and fairest cloak was in all the company, I did whip from behind, or the one side of it (if by chance it slipped off from his shoulders in the throng) as much as would make three or four pair of soles, or some such odd knack, or other. Wherein, besides the profit, I took exceeding great pleasure, in seeing these gallants afterwards look like the picture of S. Martin, with little more than half a cloak; which was a ridiculous thing to behold, and did often move me to much laughter. And when they themselves had found it out, they began to wind and turn it this way, and that way, putting the part offended, either under or over their arm, as would make best for the hiding of that blemish; and the people when they once began to perceive it, they strait way flocked about them, who blushing to see their garment cut short to their waste, discovering those parts which shame bids us hide, they went flinching away, and got them home through by-lanes, and such places, as were least frequented.  
And when this would not fadge with us, we would cunningly steal to your silk, or clothe of gold hangings, for we never stood upon terms of courtesy, or were more dainty with these, than the rest; for the greater was the value of it, the greater was our gain; and from the lower part of these hangings, would we snip off a piece or two, according as occasion, or time, would give us leave; endeavouring ever to cut in the best and choicest place, and in the turning of a hand, we made thereof either women's bodies, mens 
a Montera, is a cap made of stuff with little or no brims, to wear for ease within doores●… your Clowns have them of cloth.  monteras, purses, pinpillowes, sleeves for little children, and a thousand other the like fiddling things; still ordering and husbanding it so, that we would not lose the least thread, but did always contrive it in that manner, as might make best for that use, whereunto we would put it.  
By little and little, we came approaching nearer and nearer unto the City, drawn thither upon the fame and report, that there was a new Uice-Roy already come thither, or would be there very shortly. For at such solemn feasts as these, where there is running of Bulls, baiting of Bears, and the like pastimes, besides your great Fairs and markets, we will not stick, for a need, to come a hundred miles off, that we may be present at them. Our expense upon the way, was always very little; for we still made our provision, as we went along, and what we got in one place, that we spent in another, taking up hens here, capons there, in such a village chickens, and such a dove-house pigeons, pigs, gammons of bacon, and any thing that was tame, and would come to hand, never escaped our hands, furnishing ourselves with all other necessary implements, that might serve for the conveniency of our journey, were it for our diet, or our lodging. And as a man that desires to have a good lodging in his Inn, must have a care to come there before the Sun be set: so in that short time which we had to spend until it were towards night, and that the hour was come, wherein we did usually retire ourselves, we did run over all the open places about the Country, and if we found any breach in any wall of a house, we would pry what we could proule from thence, and seek to make our entry; Which that we might do with the more conveniency, and lesser hazard of our persons, we would begin to beg an alms, saying; That we were poor Students, and being driven to great necessity, could not for want of means return handsomely into our own Country. Which we did not so much demand of them, to the end they should give us any thing, as thereby to seek occasion to steal something from them, having an eye still towards the hen-roost, casting with ourselves how we might dis-people that house of its pullen.  
Besides, for your Inns, and your Farmer's back-sides, I carried always with me a good angle-rod with a strong hook and line, baited with a crust of bread, or some six grains of wheat, to catch therewith whatsoever came in my way, and I seldom put in my rod, but I plucked out a fish as long as mine arm. But when it fell out so unfortunately with us, that we could not get any booty, and that (as it is in the Proverb) See caya lacasa; the house was fallen dawn; and that there was no victuals there to be found; yet come the worst, that 
Proverb.  could come, we should be sure to meet with as good and fat a Calf, as any man need to eat, the world could not afford better Veal. As soon as we came to Naples, at our first coming we drove for some few days, a very good trade, and made very quick returns, with a great deal of profit to our purses, and all things did succeed very well with us; we took great pains, and we reaped great gains. I had put myself into such apparel, that my presence might promise the reputation of an honest man; so that any man might very well be cozened by this Card, (this outside I mean of mine) so fair did I colour for it. So that if the entrance which we made, like to our juego de canas, glittering in gold, and all kind of bravery, had not through my lack of patience received in the end a foil, I might have continued there in very good fashion. But I had work enough to do, to save my skin, from being plucked over my ears, and to keep my bones from being broken. It was mine own fault, that my eggs proved addle, and were not so well hatched as they might have been. I may thank no body for it but myself. But God be thanked, that it was no worse with me; for I might have received much more harm thereby, and therewith did I comfort myself.  
One of my Comrades was of that Country, servant to a Regent of t●… Collateral Council, whose father had also served him heretofore, he was des●…ous to make himself known unto him, whereupon he went to kiss his hands, nor did his own return empty from him; But (being very glad to see him) offered to do him any kindness that lay in his power; nor were they Courtiers words, sprinkled with holy-water, for he did as well do, as say; For seldom, and to few, doth it happen in Court, to eat together in one plate, and at one board; But when the mind is generous and noble, it evermore takes 
Noble minds are ever liberal.  delight to give; and by so much the more is increased, by how much the more we crave. For it hath always been a peculiar property belonging to giving, to make the donor famous and renowned to the world. And the more subjects they light on to confer such courtesies, so much the more glory do they gain unto themselves. Presently, without any more ado, he employed him in some businesses, and those of some worth and moment, and well deserving a worthier subject. Under his protection we went up and down the City, as if we had been so many Vice-Kings of the Country, living without controlment, and no man daring to meddle with us.  
Being thus seated on the warm side of the hedge, presuming upon his favour and countenance, we did lash out a little too much, in undertaking such and such things, as were beyond the reach of our brains, and would require stronger wits than we had any. He was the tongue, wherewith we spoke; he did direct us, whither we were to go; and what we were to do; at what hours, we might with most safety be abroad; where we might best make our entry; whom we might best trust; and of whom we had most reason to be afraid. For (as we shall tell you hereafter) they that commit the greatest robberies, and such thefts, as are more famous than any other, more cunningly carried, of a higher strain and nature then the rest, and of the greatest importance, are those that are nearest in their attendance about the Ministers of justice. For these men, fear nothing, they are in favour with their Lord, necessity oppresseth 
Proverb.  them, occasion is offered; God bless every good man from such authentical thiefs, who think themselves authorized to steal, and that the Law either cannot, or will not, take hold of them.  
I went one day a wrestling à braço 
e Luchar a braço partido es proceder y gum almenté sin ventaja de uno à otro. Covarr. verb. Braço.  partido (as they say) with my thoughts, that is to say, upon equal terms, without any manner of advantage of my fellows, out of a desire that I had to seek out something wherewithal to entertain myself; for it was almost high-noon, and we had not yet threaded our needle, nor wrought one stitch o●… work. And to come home empty handed, that I would not; I scorned not to send in my provision beforehand, as 
Proverb.  holding it a great disgrace unto me. For if my companions should chance to have wrought their honeycombs, and that they were to be found at home in the hive, where we did all meet, if I should bring nothing in, b●…t feed upon them store, they would upbraid me therewith calling me idle Drone; Titting and flo●…ting at me, that I should offer to sit down at board 
f 〈◊〉 à senta●… à la mesa con sus manos lavad 〈◊〉 ●…zese d●…l qu●… no ●…a trabaj●…do como los demas, y à la hora de comer, no haviendo en zusiado sus manos, se viene con los demas à la mesa, y come de mogollon. Covarr. verb. Lavar.  with clean hand. M●…aning thereby, that I had not laboured for my living as the rest had done, no●… taken the pains to foul my hands, and yet must sit down and eat at other men's cost. Holding him for a base minded fellow, that would come to a well furnished table, and sit down to dinner, not having beforehand provided some provision of his own, whereon to feed. I had cast mine eye upon a very fair house, which at the first sight seemed unto me, to belong to some honourable person, or principal Gentleman of that City. I entered as boldly into it, as if the house had been mine own. For (as it is in the Proverb) nunca el timido, few buen cirujano; The fearful man, never makes good Surgeon. Which 
Proverb.  kind of Phrase, your old women in Spain use to their children, when they go sneakingly and fearfully about any business. Anda, anda, que pareç●… que 
Proverb.  vas a hurtar; Get thee gone, get thee gone, thou goest logging and dreamingly about it, as if thou goest a filching. So that always, and in all places whatsoever, or wheresoever I came, me thought I went into mine own house, or that I did enter as it were by authority, with the Uare of justice in my hand, or the whole power of the Country.  
I looked about on this side, and on that side, longing that mine eyes might 
Sayavedras' stealing of a Kirtle.  light one something or other, that I might lay my hands on. At last it was my fortune to spy lying on the top of a little side-table, a fair black velvet Kirtle, richly embroidered, which would very well serve to make three several sorts of garments, cassock, and hose, and something else besides; for there were full fifteen yards in it, and might very well beseem the wearing of the neatest and bravest Gallants in the Kingdom. I stood looking and pee●…ng on every side of me, if I might go cleanly away with this booty, that it might not cost me the laying on, and escape without danger of being beaten for my labour; and by good hap I did not meet with any to hinder me in this my purpose; Whereupon I took it up, and clapping it under mine arm, fetching two or three nimble friscals, my feet were presently upon the threshold of the door, making their way to go forth into the street: But I was no sooner come thither, but there I met full butt with the owner of the house, who was Master Datario 
* Datario, a great office in Rome, as also in other places. , a man of great place and authority in that City, who seeing me come forth with this fardel under mine arm, asked me what I was, what I made there, and what was that I carried away with me? I being thus put to my shift, made a virtue of necessity, and was not long in consulting with my myself for an answer, and with an untroubled, or rather cheerful countenance, said unto him; Sir, it is my Mistress' pleasure, that I should untuck these pleats a little, to make the folds fall a little handsomer, and that I should lessen it a thought in the waste, for that it sits not well before; and hath given me in charge to dispatch it presently. Do so I pray (my friend) quoth he, see it be done quickly, and let it be your own hand-working, that it may not be done amiss, and make all the haste you can. I then said to myself; I have done this with mine own hand, and I will make quick work with the rest. And with that I hied me down the street, fetching more turnings and windings then a Snake, sometimes this way, and sometimes that way, now here, and now there, and all, that they might not find any footing of me, if he should chance to uncouple his hounds, and send them after me to follow me upon hot sent.  
Anon after (as ill luck would have it) he came to know how the world went, for he was no sooner come into the house, but he found it all in an uproar, some in the hall, some in the kitchen, some in one room, and some in another, the maids of the house some unbraced, some their hair about their ears, some with one sleeve off, and another on, some in one posture, and some in another, but all in a combustion, brawling and calling one to another, give me the Kirtle, give me the Kirtle, where is the Kirtle, what is become of the Kirtle? but the Kirtle appears not: you took it from my mistress, (says one) I laid it here, (says another) I left it here, (says a third.) Then falls the Mistress of the house a chiding, ask who came in, or out? No body could tell of any; Then (quoth she) it is likely, that some of the house must needs have it, therefore look it me out, and that quickly too, or else you shall sound pay for it. There was such an outcry, such exclamations, such a howling, such a bawling, and so hideous a noise, as if the whole house had been fallen to the ground; in so much, that they could not one understand another.  
In this hurly-burly comes me in the Master of the house, acknowledging now the error, that he had committed, in letting me go away in that fashion; and going to pacify his wife, he told her that a thief had got into the house, and carried away her Kirtle, recounting unto her, what had passed betwixt him and myself, when he met me coming forth of doors. He presently made search after me, but I so bestirred my stumps, that he could not then find me out, having by this time both secured my person, and the Kirtle.  
That night, I got me to the house of the great Constable, out of a desire that I had, to finish a piece of work, which some few days before, I had drawn 
Sayavedras' theft at the Constable's house.  out; but my pen did so blur, that I did despair at that time to come off cleanly with it, and though I had taken a great deal of pains that it might be neatly and handsomely done, yet could I never compass (for want of a good opportunity) to have it fall out fairly and fitly as I would till now. Many Gentlemen, were there met together to play, who had ordinarily three or four tables set ready for them, and a page or two appointed to sit up, and attend upon them, till they gave over. Every table had his silk carpet, and two silver candlesticks; I carried thither with me a couple that were counterfeit, made of the purest Tin I could get, and just of the same fashion and proportion, and so like in every respect, that you could not for their fineness, distinguish them from the other, iumping so truly, as well in the colour, as the making, provided of purpose, for the better effecting of what I intended. I carried likewise two candles along with me, and using close conveyance, that they might not be seen about me, I leaned against one of the corners of the wall, as I had used to do heretofore, waiting for a fair occasion to bring my project to pass, giving those that were there to understand, that I was a servant to one of those Gentlemen that were at play. Two, were playing at 
h Cientoes; a witty game at Cards, much used in Spain.  çientoes, at one of those tables, they called for lights, there was not any body there but one Page, and he so sleepy and so drowsy, that having called unto him twice, he did neither answer them, nor well mind what they said unto him: I made presently in to them, and having my candles and candlesticks in a readiness, which were not long a lighting, throwing one end of my cloak over my shoulder, as if I had been one of the servants of the house: I shifted the candlesticks, putting the lights into those that I had brought with me, clapping those other of silver under mine arm; and so turning nimbly away from them, walking as Cats do, softly and without any noise, I got me quietly to my lodging, where I mixed them together with other pieces of plate, which I had in the like manner at diverse times gathered together; And for to take away all occasions of quarrelling and wrangling, and that I might not be asked whether these are thine, or mine? Let me see the mark; Compare it with this or that other piece, and the difference will soon be decided; How came you by it? Where did you buy it? What was he that sold it you? To avoid these and the like cavils, I thought good to make sure work with it; so I melted it (that it might not be known by its care-marke) all into one mass, and putting it into a fine earthen pot, I carried it to my Captain, that he out of the authority and credit that he had abroad, might the better sell it for me.  
He did so; and taking out a fifth part for himself, he gave me the rest in very good Royals of plate, without defrauding me of one farthing, or the least hair of my head. It was an order amongst us, that to him, as to our Chieftain, we should bring all whatsoever we got, whereof the fifth part was his fee, which we truly and justly paid unto him, as a tribute that was as due to him, as that of the Indies, is to his Catholic Majesty. No Prince in the world had more punctual payment. And for this tax, tallage, impost, or custom, (or whatsoever in that kind you shall be pleased to call it) we were in all our dangers, protected and defended by him. Let no man think to chew his 
i Mascar a does carrillos. i. Hazerse à amba●… parts contrarias con dissimulaçion. Covarr. verb. Mascar.  meat on 
Proverb.  both sides of his chaps at once; and to have all the water run through his own mill, and none pass besides. For there is no dignity in this life without a pension; and nothing that a man enjoys of his estate, but he must part with some portion out of it. Every one hath his double row of teeth, together with his grinders, all would fain eat. Every poll, hath his polling. There are certain rights and duties to be raised out of all things whatsoever. Imposts, and Interests, must pass to and fro in the world. One hand washeth 
k una mano lava la otra, y entrambas la cara.  another, 
Proverb.  and both wash the face. If one give me a Capon, it is fit I should bestow the brawn thereof upon him. And there is no money can be better employed, then upon such a good Angel as this to guard us. There are some kind of people so cruel and unconscionable, that they think of nothing but deceit and cozenage, 
Proverb.  scooping like shovels all to themselves; they will have all the 
l Quieren el pan, y las maseras.  bread, and the meat too; both a man's pains, and his profit; leaving us nothing but the periculum, and the poenam, the peril, and the punishment, if it be our misfortune to be caught. They will highly praise and commend us, that they may encourage us on to greater matters, as Pizarro did his people in the Indies. But when they give us most, and reward us best, they think they do us a great favour, if they give us the scraps and fragments, and what themselves know not well what to do withal, reserving the best and greatest part of the profit to themselves; as Alexandro dealt with me. But afterwards, when they see us in distress, and that we have need of their help, they will not so much as know us; they presently strike sail, and will not stir a foot to succour us.  
But we, and this our Milanese (whom we made our Commander) kept very good quarter; for he would by no means have any more of us then a fifth part, which by agreement belonged unto him. And if at any time, he having need of money, did entreat us that we would lend him some, and put it to account to be paid out of his fifth part, as prizes came in; when we had furnished him, he would presently set it down in his book, with an Item so much due unto such a one, to be paid out of my next Vales, and when that debt was satisfied, he would either cross it, or write repaid in the margin; so that there was evermore an even reckoning kept between us. No, no, he was none of these shuffling companions, he was wonderful honest in sharing the spoil with us, levelling all accounts, and still keeping an even reckoning with us; and so as we had the fortune to make a good voyage, for the rest, we needed not to fear. My fellows did not loiter but bestirred themselves lustily, and like good husbands, never came home with their hands in their 
m Con las manos en el seno.  bosoms, nor 
Proverb.  dragged out an empty net.  
We were four of us in the whole; three adventurers, to enter upon all kind of erterprises, and one Captain to fight in our defence. We would sometimes take him along with us, & put him foremost, to the end that if any one of us should be taken napping, and the theft found about us, he might serve to mitigate the matter, when we were thus taken in the manne●…, making us to restore that which we had taken, (that I may not say stolen away) giving us two or three boxes on the care, and as many kicks on the breech, dismissing us from thence in a devil's name, saying withal; Get you gone, you rogue, be packing I say like an arrant rascal, and false thief as thou art, sirrah, let me see your back, and I advice you let me never hear or see, that you fall any more a filching, leave your stealing, and live honestly, else I swear unto thee by the faith of an honest man, I will cause thee to be whipped, or sent to the Galleys. Being thus curstly used by him, first kicked and beaten, and afterwards roundly rated, they that were present, taking him to be a good honest Gentleman, and a merciful minded man, they were content to let us go, and so did we scape that storm by his means, whereas otherwise we had been overtaken therewith.  
But some again, were such hard-hearted people, and of that stubborn and perverse nature, that they did set upon us like fierce dragons, and were so full of rage and choler, that nothing could pacify their wrath, but did still press us more and more, and nothing would content them, but our imprisonment, whipping, hanging, all was too little for us. They would first see us clapped up safe, and afterwards talk with us at leisure. To such rough-hewen natures, and boisterous dispositions, our Captain would come to the parties, whom we had wronged, and tell them; Do not foil your hands with such a filthy rogue as this is, give him a hundred kicks, and let him go like a villain and thief as he is, but do not cause him to be apprehended, you see he is a poor rascal, and if you commit him to prison, there will he starve, and be eaten up with louse; and what pleasure can you take in the destruction of such a ragged snake, who in himself is so wretched a soul already? And with that, crying out; Thou ungracious unlucky villain, they would give us such jobs, such bushes, such shocks, and iustlings, and thrust us with that violence from them, that they would make us to root up the earth with our noses, and only thereby to free us out of their hands, who had us in hold.  
But if any one should be so stiff, and so hard laced, that nothing could move him to pity, nothing work our enlargement, we used our best endeavour to get from them; if that would not serve the turn, we would stand upon our justification, and not stick (and that stoutly too) to tell this or that other to his teeth, tha●… he lied in his throat, and tha●…●…e were as honest men as he, or the b●…st of them all: And whilst we were thus striving to be gone, our Captain 
Proverb.  would interpose himself under colour of pacifying the matter, and would help to part us, by his coming in between us, and so free us from out their clutches, and set us at liberty. And if need were, (when all this would not serve the turn) he did throw a 
n Deromavan el poleo, says the Spanish phrase. Lat: pulegium. Eng. penny royal. Quae herba ex●…tat oves ad balatum.  bone amongst them, and would seek some occasion or other, provoking them by words, to fall to blows, quieting the lesser tumult by the greater, and so made a shift to scuffle away, and to dis-imbroyle ourselves of this troublesome business.  
At other times, when we were running away with that which we had stolen, and were hardly followed, even close at the heels of us, one of our fellows would come athwart him that pursued us, and stepping our just before him, would detain him for a while, ask him what was the matter, and what troubled him, that he made such haste, who it was that had done him wrong, together with the nature of the injury, and so would not suffer him to pass on, as if he had desired to make peace, and to pacify both parties. And albeit he would not give him any answer, (for that his business required haste) yet were it more, or less, that he thus entertained the time with him, every the least delay, were it never so little, was enough to make us, to our great advantage, gain ground of him; howbeit they that fly, have always the start of them that follow; and fear, in such cases, doth evermore clap wings to our feet. Whereas they that run after others, do naturally grow quickly weary, & beat themselves out of breath, partly being stifled with the heat of passion, and partly out of the mind that they have to do another a shrewd turn, which doth much puzzle them, notwithstanding that they strive and labour all that they can to overtake him: but it is impossible to strive against nature, which doth ever favour those, that desire to save themselves. Thus by one means or other, they were still detained, and missed of their purpose.  
Otherwhiles, they would be bound for our forthcoming, give their words for our truth and honesty, and though we had gone shear away with that which we had stolen, they would plead our innocence, especially, not being taken with the theft; for by this time we had conveyed it some three or four streets of, where there was no more news to be heard of it. So that by their good words, their intercessions, and their being bound for us body for body, we were freed from that evil opinion, which before was conceived of us. So that by hook, or by crook, this way, or that way, one or another, we went throughstitch with our business, maugre all the world, or though spite should have done her worst; for we had still one trick or other, when it came to a dead lift, wherewithal to serve our turn.  
But once, being more careless, than I ought to have been, I would needs go forage alone by myself, without ever a scout to scour the coast, and though I should have taken one along with me, I persuade myself, as the case then stood with me, he would have steaded me little, or nothing at all. And thus it was.  
My sins (for it could be nothing else) had drawn me one day forth of 
Sayavedra's stealing of shirts.  the City to walk abroad and take the air, and coming near unto a river side, where in a meadow upon the grass were laid out a great many linen clothes a drying, and the woman that looked unto them, sitting close, to shade herself from the heat of the Sun, in a little hollow cleft of an old wall, that was not far off; me thought the linen needed no more drying, and whether it did or no, it was all one to me, wet or dry, it made no great matter, either way (so I might have what I looked for) would serve my turn well enough. I had a month's mind, to fold up two or three of the finest and newest shirts, that were there, thinking with myself, that they would sit well with my body, and so very easily and fairly I took them up; but fearing lest any body should come in the mean while, and spy what I was a doing, I leapt them up in haste, not being willing to stay to fold them there, but to do that at more leisure, when I came to my lodging. The good woman did not see what I did, for her back was all this while towards me; but there was not one wanting, who shrewdly complaining of me, not running (to make me the more secure) but walking a good round pace towards her, advised her thereof.  
This poor woman, when since heard how the world went, sets me out a throat, whose shrill sound did ascend as high as heaven. And leaving a little girl, that she had there, to look unto the rest of the linen, she began to run after me. So that I seeing myself in this straight, I dissembled the matter as well as I could, and without either turning my face towards her, or mending my pace, I walked soberly and demurely along, as if she had nothing to do with me; letting (as I went along) my aware fall to the ground, going on still as I did before, without any perturbation of countenance, or enlarging of my steps; thinking with myself, that when this wicked woman had recovered that which she lost, she would therewith have been contended, and rested quiet: but she did not leave me so; for if she cried out before, now she made such a noise, and sent forth such a loud clamour, that the whole field did ring of the peal, which that shrill clapper of hers made. And for that we were not far from the Town, nor in a solitary place, that was free from company, the outcries that she made, were heard by many; insomuch that great store of all sorts of people came running in, especially boys and little children, besides a great number of dogs, barking and bawling, as if they had been mad, coming about me as thick as bees; being confounded, and ready almost to have run out of my wits with that tumultuous hurry, and horrible stir they made. And some young lads, which fell in with these lesser beagles, to make the cry the fuller, when they understood of the business, were ready to swallow me up alive, from whose power (so violently were they bend against me) it was impossible for me to scape. From that day forward, I began to stand in fear of this little fry, which heretofore I was never afraid of. These little minowes, were they, that by persecuting of me, did undo me.  
When I heard Sayavedra say so, there presently came into my mind a famous drunkard in Madrid, who being kicked and spurned, and mightily abused 
A short tale of a drunkard.  by the Boys that had got about him; when he came to the end of the street, he stoops me down and takes up a couple of stones, and holding one in the one hand, and the other in the other, leaning himself against a wall, he said thus unto them: No more, no more (my good Boys) it is enough; stay here, stay here (sweet Children) for it is not fit you should go any farther. And therefore (my pretty hearts) let me entreat you to go back, and not trouble me, or yourselves any longer: for I am very well satisfied with those courtesies I have already received from you; for the which I kindly thank you. Otherwise, I have nothing to return you in requital, but these stones, which I shall freely bestow upon you, though it cost me the laying on; so that some of you, I believe, will be better paid for your pains than you expect. Whereupon they seeing him thus resolute, they sneaked away one by one, and let the poor man alone, who afterward went quietly along about his business. If Sayavedra had taken the like course, he might peradventure have had the like success.  
But he, continuing his discourse went on and said; surely where this rude rabble once bands and links itself together, no good man can do aught that is good, nor any honest man pass in quiet for them. I sought now to fly from them, as a man would fly from the gallows: and I was in a good way towards it, and wanted little of coming thither. For, by seeking to fly from their hands I fell into those of the justice; who had now caught me in their net, whence there was no hope to scape.  
When I saw this misfortune was fallen upon me: I made no more ado, but sent presently to my Captain, advising him how the case stood with me, who as soon as he understood of it, made all the haste he could unto me, was with me (as they say) ere a man could say this; and well instructed me what I should both say and do. T●…at done, he went to the Notary, telling him that he knew me to be well descended, that I was honourably borne both by Father and Mother, and of as ancient and noble a House as any was in Spain: and that it was not possible, nor was it to be believed, that such a Gentleman as I was, would commit so foul a fact.  
But say (which cannot sink into my head) that it should be true, it is not a thing so much to be wondered at; for that he might either do it out of youthfulness (which is incident now and then to play such kind of idle pranks) or out of want, lacking money, and being loath to beg or borrow, or forced thereunto out of pure hunger; and therefore chose rather to hazard than famish his person. Besides, it is a matter of no moment, a toy, a trifle, a thing not to be made any reckoning of, as well in regard of its small value, as also in respect of the Gentleman's quality, and the nobleness of his house. What with these good words and something else that he did besides, within some two hours after I was freed out of Prison: and (had God been pleased so to have it) I could have wished I might not have come out then, nor three hours after that; nay, not till dark night: but since it was his good will and pleasure that it should succeed as it did with me, blessed be his name for ever, good or ill must be welcome from his hand. Sin, that Catchpole of Conscience, that churlish Porter that keeps account of our actions, and has an eye to what we do, who had still persecuted me at the very thresholds of the doors wherinto I entered, was not unmindful to do the like by me in that of the Prison, when I was rea●…y to come out: for even as I was putting my foot over the threshold, who should I meet full butt, but Master Datario? who came thither to free a Prisoner.  
As soon as he saw me, he presently knew me, and withal pushed me so violently back, that I fell flat upon my back to the ground; and then coming fiercely upon me that he might hold me, while he had me at this advantage, and calling to the Keeper, committed me anew, and followed the accusation so hard against me, that neither entreaties nor any offers to make him satisfaction for his kirtle, were able to make him to surcease his suit. He was a powerful man, I used all possible diligences: but neither did my pleading that I was a Gentleman, nor the tenderness of my years, prevail so far, as to bring me fairly off. And, as if they had done me a deed of charity, and bestowed an alms on me, by way of trans-action and agreement, as if they had showed me all the favour in the world, they gave me such a heavy sentence that I shall never forget it while I live. I went for shirts, and they stripped me of mine from my shoulder to my waste, banishing me from thence for ever. I had my payment, but the blockhead had not his Kirtle: see how a wilful fool, such a one as this was, stood in his own light; being more willing to do me a mischief than himself a pleasure; and to lose his goods, rather than to let me lose: which he might easily have recovered of me, if he would have suffered me to stay in that City.  
Well, I was forced to forgo Naples, and with it, all my old friends and acquaintance: I packed up all my trinkets together, and that poor pittance that 
Proverb.  I had picked up by mine own industry, and departed from thence, wand'ring up and down Italy, till I came to Bologna, where Alessandro received me into his service: who did usually go out of that City, to fetch in some booty or other; and having sped well he returned home in safety. When we were in Rome, and came in unto you, when you were in that thrust and throng of people, we did not so much intend your good, as expect that some farther quarrel would have growneth reupon, whereby we might with the more safety have got some Cloaks or Hats: but that occasion being taken away, missing thus of our purpose, we began to plot how we might commit this theft, making me (as their ●…anner was) 
o Cabeça de Lobo. That is, the occasion that a man takes to benefit himself. As he that kills a Wolf, and carries the head to the Villages thereabout, receiving something of every one by way of gratification, for the good ●…ee hath done in killing so dangerous and hurtful a Beast. Covarr. Verb. Cabeça.  Cabeça de Lobo, the Wolves head, the instrument of their profit; whilst they kept their own fingers out of the fire, and would be sure to be out of the danger of Gun-shot. This Story was he telling me, when we were now come to our journey's end. And so ceasing to talk any farther of it, we came into our Inn, where we presently had that provided for us which was fitting for travellers that were not to make any long stay.   

CHAP. VI  
Sayavedra meets in Milan with a friend of his that served a Merchant; Guzman de Alfarache lays a witty plot how to rob him.  
WIth a great deal of attention and admiration, had Sayavedra all this journey tied mine ears to his tongue. And during the rest of the way, till we reached to Milan, we were never out of matter; but kept the ball still up; he tossing one tale to me, and I returning another to him: so that our Discourse never made a fault; but was (being both good Players) well maintained and kept up between us. But I had a great contradiction in myself, and could hardly be brought to believe that men of noble birth, Sons of such worthy Parents, should suffer themselves to be thus violently haled by their Passions; that, forgetting the respect due to their blood and Gentry, (the remembrance whereof should cause them to go on in an honourable and civil course of life) do notwithstanding commit base and infamous actions, by robbing others of their goods and honours: for in very truth, he 
Money make: man to be esteemed. Men sooner see other men's faults then their own. The sweetness and sourness of war.  that lofeth his wealth, loseth both the one and the other; for every man is so far forth esteemed and honoured, as he is rich and wealth. Whereupon I said secretly to myself; surely if Sayavedras' father left him so rich as he himself reporteth he did, how comes it (quoth I) to pass, that he is turned thief? and that he takes more pleasure to follow this lewd kind of life, and to endure these shameful affronts, then to live in esteem and reputation in his own Country? If we do ill, we therefore do it because it carries a fair appearance with it, and shows unto us a certain shadow, or a kind of resemblance of some goodness or other; but in suffering such indignities as he hath done, there is no hope thereof, no colour at all for it. But I presently recalled this rash censure, and suddenly taking up myself, I fell to excusing of him, and began upon better deliberation to say with myself; It may be he went from home being a child as I did. And so, considering the relation that he had made unto me, mine own proper steps represented themselves unto me, and those lewd courses that myself had run. But I afterwards came again to myself and said: But suppose all this to be true which he hath said: Why did he not turn over a new leaf when he had the use of reason, and came to be a man, taking upon him the profession of a Soldier? He might answer likewise for himself and say; Why did not I so to? I see a more in another man's eye, and cannot behold the beam that is in mine own.  
Military Profession is a pleasing thing, and hath many motives to draw a man's affection thereunto. They have good pay, they pass well enough with it; it teacheth a man hardness, it maketh him to forget his dainty fare at home, and boldly to adventure his life to win honour, and to do his Country service. But they pay dearly for it, they have too hard a bargain of i●…, it is a kind of taking up of money at extreme rates, and excessive interest, for to satisfy a debt of lesser value. They must serve long before they can come to any thing, rise betimes in the morning, watch all night, have his shoulders pinched with the heavy weight of a Musket, stand Sentinel for the space of full four hours, and two at the least, when he is 
a Dixese Centinela, à Sc●…tillando. Porque ha de estar con los ojos a●…ieros, y vivos, como çentellas. Otros' dizen, que esta corrompido el vocablo de çentinela, à sentiendo. Por la viueza que ha de teneren todos los sentidos; especialmentè en la vista, y ●…loydo. Centinela perdida, is he that is put out of a Castle, 〈◊〉 out of 〈◊〉 Camp into the open field, where in case of necessity, be cannot be conveniently relieved: and so be must stand to his adventure. The French stile him, Centinelle perduë. Covarr. Verb. Centinel●….  Centinela perdida, without budging or moving but a foot from that place where they have once set him: let it rain, thunder or lighten never so fast; freze, snow, or blow the winds never so hard, let the weather be as sharp as sharp may be, all is one, he must stand to his tackling. And when he hath done all this, like a soldier and a brave fellow, when he shall return home safe to his lodging (not reckoning those that miscarry by this means) he hath not so much as a Candle to light him to bed, nor fire to dry either his wet or frozen carcase, nor bread to put in his mouth, nor wine to wash down those crumbs, being hunger-starved, all mire and dirt, all to be rend and torn, but not a rag of comfort. And therefore considering the hard life that a Soldier leads, and how ill they are rewarded, hazarding their own lives to save other men's, I do not much blame Sayavedra that he did not turn Soldier.  
But for his elder Brother, Senor juan Marti, or Mateo Luxan (leaving him to make choice of one of the two, as shall stand best with his Worship's liking) who was of age sufficient, when his father died, for to discern betwixt ill and good, who had a good house to put his head in, and good means to maintain it, and to have lived richly and plentifully, and in good reputation and credit in his own Country, what a Devil moved him, or what hellish temptation came into his mind, to neglect his own business, and so foolishly thrust himself to intermeddle in other folk's matters, and to fall at last to stealing of cloaks. How much better would it have been for him to have employed his person in some honourable entertainment or other? He was a good Grammarian, he had studied the Laws, and might (if he would himself) have easily come to be a Doctor.  
But happily, these and the like do think, That there needs no more to make a thief, then to say; I will be a thief. And that all shall succeed as happily with them, as themselves could wish it. But in good sooth, I must beat them out of this error, and plainly tell them; That there is more in it, than 
Thieving is a trade, that is full of trouble.  so. That it will cost them no small labour, and withal they must incur a great deal of danger. Besides, I cannot well tell you, whether or no, there be so many rules amongst the Lawyers, as he needs to have, who means to prove a good thief indeed. For say, that there be two in a Town, that emulate one another, and contend for the victory, and that the one after a great deal of strife, and stiff standing out, will at last concur with the other, who hath gotten him the name and fame of all that perfection that belongs to your 
b Terms of Art amongst thieves and rogues. Germania, elaccento en la penultima, es el lenguage de la rufianesca; dicho assi; ò porque no los entendemos, ò por la hermandad que entre sitienen. A canting kind of language. Also taken for a fraternity, or brotherhood amongst thieves. Covarr. verb. Germania. A tale of a Country Alcalde.  Cocoquismo, and Germania, the true Art of filching and stealing, and hath showed himself an excellent Proficient in that Science, I can assure you, on my credit, he had need carry a close hand, and look narrowly to his business. For, to my seeming, if that be true, (as I think it was) which Sayavedra delivered unto me; he was a poor unfortunate pilchard, a kind of shotten Herring; and I, in comparison of him, a great goodly Wha●…e. Yet for all this, did not I dare, (fearing I should prove myself a dunce, when I came to be examined by the masters of that faculty) to stand for my grace, nor pretend the Cap and Hood, as doubting, how I should be able to answer for my degree, if I were well canvased by those that should oppose me. Sayavedra, and his brother (doubtless) did flatter themselves, and were truly persuaded, that with these poor dry petty thefts, ill seasoned, without any good taste, sweet savour, or any the least pleasant relish in the world, they might boldly go into the Schools, and there read in the 
c The Spanish word is; Catedra de prima. Valetanto, como silla pu●…sta en alto, qual es la de los Maestros que leen; con obligaçion de leer à tiempo senalado, etc. Covarr. verb. Catedra.  Regis professor his chair, their solemn Lectures for their Doctorship. They did happily think with themselves, that there was no more in it, than what a good plain Country-fellow said, that was a kind of poor silly Alcalde, in a little Village, called 
d Almonaçi de Curita, is seated betwixt 〈◊〉, and Zorita. It is an Arabic word corrupted, of Almunasi, which signifies a place of oblivion: seeming to have its root, from the Hebrew word nasas, oblivisci. And in that Town there is wine of that strength and goodness, that Travellers set their journeys so, as they may lodge there at night, where some of them forget themselves, like Ulysses' soldiers, before they get thence. Otros' dizen, que vale tanto como, hu●…rta del Rey. Vid. Covarr. pag. 56.  Almonaçide Curita, in the kingdom of Toledo, who having made a watering place for the town Cattle to drink at, when he had finished it, and made it handsome, having fitted it with cisterns, and whatsoever else he in his wisdom held to be necessary, he called the wisdom of the town together, the whole body of the Council, where in their presence, he caused the conduit pipes to be opened, and to let out the water, that they might give their judgement and opinion, how they liked of it? One said, the trough stood too high; another, too low. The Alcalde, seeing his work found fault withal, was not half well pleased with it, but scorning to be dashed out of countenance, and over-borne by his inferiors, he steps himself to the trough, and there his worship drinks: And when he had done, stepping backward about some two strides, or thereabouts, looking angrily, yet gravely enough upon them, he first spits, then wipes his mouth, and lastly says unto them; God's nigs, (my masters) you need not find such fault with it, there is no more to be said in this matter: for being that I can make a shift to drink at it, there is never a beast but may do the like, if he have a mind to drink.  
Even just so is it with your young thiefs that are fresh-water-Souldiers, and not well beaten to the business, who think all things easy, that they take in hand, and when they hear of such a famous thief, and that he hath done wonders in that kind, will not stick to say; Tush, this is nothing: We can do as much as this, and more too. But I promise you on my honest word, that such as these, who have so good a conceit of themselves, that may be said of them: which another Country fellow, not far from thence, dwelling in 
A tale of three country fellows.  Mancha, said to two other fellows, who earnestly contended about the foal of a Mare; One said, it was a Horse; No, said the other, it is a Mule: Then a third person, that was in their company, drawing nearer and nearer, and rounding about the beast, and viewing, and viewing him again, after he had throughly marked his mussel, and his ears, he cries out aloud; Gods-bores, what a deal of do is here about nothing? You are a couple of coxcombs both of you; for I can assure you, this is as very an Ass, as my father. He that will boast himself to be a thief, and desires to be listed in the roll of those that have gotten greatest fame, let him endeavour to do things bravely, let him be an honourable thief, and not of that baseness of mind, as to stoop so low, as to rob an hearbe-wifes' shop of a rope of onions, or Tops and Jigs, and such other toys as little children use to play withal, which serve but from hand to mouth, to feed other thiefs withal; who will use thee no otherwise, than men do their slaves: you must pay them daily tribute, or else you must be packing; they will not care a pin for you. And yet for these petty thefts (though thou thinkst to scape with them, as things of nothing,) they may chance to chain thee to the galleys, if not halter thee at the gallows. A man should not (me thinks) so much undervalue his own worth, as to prostitute his life to danger, and to lay open his shoulders to shame, for babbles and trifles; nor, is it fit, that for so little, a man should pay so much. That a man should be such a fool, as to endanger his neck for a Kirtle, or a couple of shirts) Quien ca●…isas hurta, 
e There is also (which the jutice bestows on rogues) jubon de açotes: porque se los ajustan alas espaldas'. Covarr. 492.  jubon espera; He that steals a shirt, lives in hope to have a doublet too. Let such a white-liverd-whoreson, do that, which that valiant Captain Capin Uitelo adviseth; 
f Proverb.  Elmercader, que su trato no entiende, çierre la tienda; That Merchant, that understands not his trade, let him shut up his shop.  
But to let these thiefs alone, and to come home to myself; what could I now do, if I should come to be put to it? What's become of all my cunning thefts? I doubt me, I should be to seek, how, where, and which way to begin. The Art of it, is gone from me, but not the fear. Every thing hath its course, and its time, it is now a great while ago since I fingered my phlegm or lancent, or that I did let any man blood, my hand is nothing so nimble as it was, it is grown slow and dull, and knows not well where to prick the vein. Believe it, There is no such Master as Practice. Use, and exercise, are excellent things, 
Practice, a great matter.  to keep the hand in ure: Which when it is wanting, the understanding gathers moss, waxeth mouldy, and grows rusty.  
When we were come to Milan, we kept vacation for three or four days. 
Guzman comes to Milan.  For I durst not as yet adventure to play. I was loath to have any thing to do with your men of war, for they always play very warily. Your Soldiers are subtle cunning gamesters, and above all, bear a most malicious mind against a man's money. They are never quiet, till they have it. All, or the most part of them, would seek to play upon some one advantage or other. I could not make use of my tricks, nor would they permit me to put them upon them, yet I must, whether I would or no, be forced to give way to theirs. Besides, of them I was sure to get but little, but might be in election to lose much. I was not minded to do any thing there, save only to round the City, to see what a manner of thing it was, what their traffic, and such other greatnesses as it should afford our sight, and so afterwards to bid it farewell. And being thus resolved, I went to walk all that day from shop to shop, where I saw so many curiosities that I was taken with great admiration in the beholding of them, as also in the great trade, that was there driven, even in lesser things, that were of meaner value.  
Standing one day in the midst of the Marketplace, there came to Sayavedra, a handsome young youth, honestly clad, and well behaved, and both in his garb and fashion, a very fine Spaniard. But because his back was towards me, I could not then discern, nor understand more of him, but that they went a little a side off from me, where alone by themselves, they entertained talk a good while: which put me in a great muse, thinking with myself, what might be the cause, that these two should treat together with that secrecy, not having (as I did imagine with myself) ever seen one another before. Notwithstanding, that I might not break off their discourse, to the end that I might see whither it tended, I stood still, and did not move from the place wherein I was, having still an eye, lest they should get out of my sight, observing their proceedings, and that if they should chance to go towards my lodging, I might (taking the start of them,) be there before them. And ever and anon, mine eye was upon them, but yet kept me still where I was, to the end that they likewise might not shift a foot, and so slip from me.  
For, I did consider with myself; if I should now call him unto me, and ask him, what it was they talked of, Sayavedra might take occasion to make what excuse he list himself, and might make me this answer; that by reason of my calling him away, they had not finished their discourse, nor as yet entertained talk to any purpose. Whereupon, for my better satisfaction, I thought it my best course, to continue there a little longer, and to leave them a large field, wherein to expatiate their minds, for I had no such earnest business elsewhere, as might press me to be gone. Now when it was almost dinnertime, this young youth took his leave, and went about his business; And I was likewise willing to do the like; for all this while I was wonderful jealous, and had a strong suspicion, that they had plotted together to put a trick upon me. And Sayavedra, not saying a word to me, nor I to him, my fear was thereby the more increased, and began more and more to doubt what their drift might be. Watching him with no less care than a Cat would watch a Mouse. For Suspicion, is a shrewd worm, which lies still gnawing at the heart; nor is 
The nature of suspicion and jealousy.  it to be held a vice, when it settles itself upon a vicious man. For, accordingly as the natures and conditions of men are, so have we reason to be more, or less suspicious: Fearing every man so far forth, as his fashion and carriage may occasion this fear. But for as much as the desire that we have after this, or that other thing, makes us to rush violently on, & break through the bars of all difficulties whatsoever, although I would fain have held peace, and did strive all that I could to keep in this tongue of mine, yet could I hold no longer, (no though my life had lain upon it) but I must needs ask him; who that young man was, and what might be the subject of this their long discourse? yet did I for bear for the present, making no words thereof till I had dined, and then taking my time, calling Sayavedra unto me, I said thus unto him; That young man, that was with you this morning, me thinks I have (if I be not much mistaken) seen him heretofore in Rome. Is not his name Mendoça?  
No Sir, (said Sayavedra) his name is Aguilera; nor hath he his name for 
Aguilera, a famous thief.  nought: for he is an Eagle that will fly at any thing, nothing comes amiss to him, he is still ready upon all occasions. He is a good fellow, and a fine companion; he is likewise a brother of the Company, and such a one, as none of them all can outstrip him, he hath more tricks then a hundred of them, there is more resort to his Lectures, then to all the other Readers beside, put them all together.  
O, this Aguilera hath tickling talons, and what he once seizes on, is sure his own, he goes shear away with it, and 'tis never heard of any more. He hath a quick apprehension, a nimble wit, a strong brain, a sound judgement, he is an excellent penman, and such an Accountant, either for the keeping of a Merchant's book, or summing up of any reckon whatsoever, that I know not his fellow. We have known one another these many years, we have travailed together, and endured many particular troubles, and perils. And now he hath been at me, to put me upon one, which may turn to our exceeding either great good, or hurt, it being with us, as with those that go to Sea, either a happy voyage, or a miserable shipwreck. For he that will go to Sea, must resolve beforehand to encounter with dangers; especially, being that between our death, and our life, there is no more than the springing of a plank, or the slipping of a cord.  
He gave me an account, how he came to this City, with a purpose to seek out as well as he could some means whereby to live. But, because he would not ingulphe himself, before he had first sounded the water, and that he might not within two days after his arrival, be taken up for a vagabond, or some masterlessehound, he had by good hap lighted upon an entertainment, which might quit cost without suspicion; for he had now placed himself with a Merchant of this City, who had received him into his service for the goodness of his hand, and hath served him now a year, and somewhat more very faithfully and truly, looking when he might play the jade with him, and give him a sound kick with his heels, and get safe away from him, as your Mules use to do, when they once come to be seven year old; who kick at those, that have kept them.  
He farther told me, that we should lay our heads together, and draw one or two good fellows into our company, and join together, to knead such a cake, and to make us such a swinging pastry, that we might feed our fills, and free ourselves from this poor and miserable kind of life, wherein now we live. But I was loath to hearken thereunto, holding it not so convenient, for two respects.  
First, because I found myself already so well fitted to my mind, that I did not desire to lead any better life, then that I now did with you: And secondly, for that a great deal of consideration is to be required, before a man leap●… out of one course of life into another. A little (I knew) could not content us; and to carry away much, it was impossible, wanting conveniency of means to do it. Here, we could not hide ourselves out of the way, or keep ourselves secret above four days; nor could we secure ourselves by flight, but that we should be taken, before we had gone four steps out of Town, so that we should either leave our necks there longer than the mark, or our persons so racked and so tortured, that they would never after be useful unto us. We gave, and took; he argued, I answered: In conclusion, he pressed me hard unto it; but I stood off; so that we did not join issue, and all that had passed between us, was to no purpose. Many designs, many devices were tossed to and fro between us; but I did not like of any one of his propositions. For when the conclusion does not handsomely follow, the means thereunto are impertinent, and the grounds naught. So for that time he left me, because his hour was come, that he must hie him home; nor would he willingly be wanting, when his master should have occasion to use him. Hastening perhaps his departure the sooner, because he saw he could do no good upon me, and that all our talk was to no end in the world.  
This, that Sayavedra had told me, did neither secure my suspicion, nor work an absolute unbelief in me, because I thought with myself, it was not a thing unlikely. I called for my cloak, and out of doors we went, with a purpose to walk abroad into the fields to recreate ourselves. And albeit, the most part of that evening, we talked of other things; this fear, was never out of my head, but where-soever I went, or whatsoever I did, I was still thinking upon it, and it would never out of my mind; devising with myself, whether I were best to believe him, or no; or whether trusting to his honesty, and depending on the profession of his love unto me, he might play the jack with me, and strike me, like a 
f The Spanish phrase is: y me diesse vn cabe, que passasse la raya. Cabe en el juego de la argolla, es la distançia que ay de una, à otro bola, que para serlo, porlo menos ha decaber en medio la paleta, sin tocar aninguna de los does, y de ayvi tomo el number: y cabe de paleta es cl que esta tan junto, que de una bola à otra, no aymas tierra ò suelo, del que puede tomar la paleta tendida en medio, y errarle, es de ruins jugad●…res. y paraser cabe, ha de hazer que la bola de 〈◊〉 contrario, tocada con el golp●… de la suya, pass de la raya del juego, y vale does piedras, ò pedradas. This Argolla, is an ordinary play in Spain. Co●…arr. verb. Cabe. 161.  shovell-boord piece (being now a ledger) into the box, and himself remain upon the board in my place. And if he should thus play the box with me, of whom should I complain, but mine own folly? or whom can I justly blame but myself? A man may bear with one slippery trick that is played him, and if he pocket it with silence, or otherwise dissemble it, he may very well be excused; but to be cozened twice one after another, and by one and the same party, he deserves to have the Asses saddle clapped on his back. What assurance can I have from this man, or how may I dare to trust him, since, (as it is in the proverb) nunca buena vigase ●…izo de buen cohombro; 
g Tortusque per her●…, Cresceret in ventr●… cucumis. Virgil. 4. Georg.  a crooked Cucumber, never made strait rafter. He that is naturally given to knavish tricks, will hardly, or never leave them. And were not this a fine one above the rest, that he should put a full stoccado upon me, and go brag when he had done, that he had beaten a master of defence at his own weapon? Did I not deserve to be laughed at, if I should suffer him to carry away the bucklers from me in this fashion? But as mine 
h Si●…e tune los ojos ●…n la puerta.  eye was never off from the door; so my 
i N●… me falt●… l●…s m●… de la ru●…a. Gu●… falls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the r●…bbing of the 〈◊〉 of Milan.  hand was still upon my distaff. I was now become another Argos in mine own business; and another Ulysses, to look to his water. Plotting with myself, how (if that were true, which he told me) I might help them to come off safely and cleanly with this business, in case it might be a matter of some moment and consideration, and that I might be sure it would free them from beggary, and make them for ever after to live like men. For, to bestow a great deal of cost upon that, which will yield but little profit, were foolishness, if not mere madness. There is no thrift, no good husbandry in it. The employing of our pains, and our purse, aught to be answerable to the gains and profits, that will come of it. For a man to limbeck his brains, a whole, nay, many nights, for Moonshine in the water, or such a poor commodity, as will scarce pay for a meal's meat, is such a foolery, as no wise man will trouble his head 
Proverb.  about it. But because it might haply prove a rich voyage, and might haply speed better than we were aware of, when we had done walking, and were now come home to supper, seeing Sayavedra look somewhat sad and heavy, 
Proverb.  as if something did trouble him, I said unto him; Methinks (Sayavedra) thou robbest thyself of thy mirth, because thou canst not rob others of their money. This Merchants great wealth, doth greatly disquiet thee. Is that which thou musest upon (for I see thou art in a brown study) some rare plot, one of Archimedes his acquaint inventions? I can assure thee, I know a friend of mine, that would make a third in this business, and a fellow I tell you, that will not shrink in the wetting, so as it may be a good fat purchase indeed, none of these lean carrion commodities, but one that may have some good tack and substance in it.  
What tack, what substance would you have, says Sayavedra? There is twenty thousand ducats, and a better penny to be had, if we can handsomely light upon it. There is cloth enough (Sir) to cut out, to content us all, if we will ourselves, which we may order and dispose, as we shall best think fit. Well (quoth I) unto him; I pray God, it come not to be cut out for us into shrowds (you know my meaning) and then all will be well. But I prithee tell me one thing; seeing thou stand'st thus plodding, and musing on the matter, is it possible that thou hast not yet settled upon some one invention or other, that may serve the turn, make the game sure, and strike it dead at thy foot?  
No in good faith (Sir) not any, replies Sayavedra; I cannot hit upon the right joint; I have now loitered so long, that I am as far to seek, as if I were but newly entered into my A. B. C. I have taken my pleasure, and lived so much at case of late, that through too much idleness, those spirits and blood, that should quicken my understanding, and put life into it, are grown dull and muddy; and my wits, for want of use, as rusty as old iron. A thousand times, I seek to fall into my old trot, but I have scarce strucken two strokes, but I grow resty and lazy, and am not able for my life to place one true step, or to bring myself to that perfection and readiness of hand, to wind you this way, or that way (or whither-soever you would have me to go) as I was wont to do. Many projects proffer themselves unto me, but I pitch upon none, as misliking all, proposing this and that, and t'other course; but in conclusion, none sorted to my liking.  
When I heard him say so, I thus made answer thereunto. Since it is a business of that importance as thou sayst, what share shall I have out of it, if I shall rid you of this care, & bring you (like valiant conquerors) bravely off with the victory?  
Sir (said Sayavedra) my part, and my person are both at your disposal; but as for Aguilera, you were best talk with him yourself, and when you two are agreed, I make account the business is as good as ended, and all shall be as we would have it.  
Go to then (said I) go and seek him out, and see if you can come to speak with him, but with that secrecy, that you be sure you be not seen by any of his master's house; and wish him (when his leisure will give him leave) that he and I may talk a word together, and it shall not be long ere he and I be better acquainted, being I know him (by your report) so well already.  
He did so: sending a ticket secretly unto him; and when we were met, I began to wyre-draw him, and to question him somewhat more particularly, touching his master's disposition, his condition, and quality, what store of wealth he had, in what commodities it did most consist; how, and where it lay; what moneys he had in present cash, and under what keys? When I had done; he began to make his relation unto me, in this manner, as I here deliver unto you.  
Sir, I assure myself Sayavedra hath sufficiently informed you of me; yet myself shall give you to understand, that I am by my profession a 
k The Spanish word is, Calafate: That is to say; El que con maço y escoplo apriet a las junturas delas tablas, de modo que no pueda calarlo el agua. It seems to be a Flemish word. Becanus in his fourth book Hermathe●…ae, pag. 74. saith thus: Caluatem, esse idé, qu●… ultimam manum navibus imponere, & efficere, ne aquam per rimas ullas admittant. quod tamen vorbum, per excellentiam navibus tribuitur; cum alioquin ad quaevis vasa integra reddenda spectet, ubi ratio ipsius requirat. etc. But by Becanus leave, how soever he would fetch this word from the Flemings; I must be so bold as to affirm, that it is d●…riued from the Hebrew word, Caphar bituminare. And from thence, Cafatar, and Calafatar, by interposing the letterd, whence it comes to be Calafare. Covar●…. p. 172.  caulker of ships, and a reasonable good mariner, but as poor, as poor may be. And albeit I am not ignorant, that thousands with a great deal less wit, have grown to a great deal of wealth in the world, yet I have seen some others more able, and more deserving, to have come to the gallows, myself being none of those, that have least deserved it: for which escape, I render infinite thanks to his divine Majesty. It is a year, and somewhat more (which is the time of my abode in this City) that I have served a Merchant, and have taken a great deal of pains in his service. And it is about some four months since, that he hath made me the keeper of his cash. All his books, are in my hands, but his moneys, in his own. Am●… & timeo: I love, and yet I am afraid; nor can I resolve with myself, how I may so handsomely rob him, that I may not afterwards come to cut capers in the air; and to venture a stretching, for that which is not worth the catching, it were better for me to continue still as I am. But where much is to be had, a man will hazard himself much. Here is store of gold to be had, and he is worthy to wear it, that wins it. I have communicated my mind to Sayavedra; for it is more than one man can do, to manage such a piece of business, as is this. He had need to confer with some confident friend, or other, or more, whom he is assured he may safely trust. For, as men's opinions are diverse; and so many heads, so many minds; every one delivereth (as his judgement shall direct him) which is the best course he thinks to be taken. And sometimes it so falleth out, Quod bonus ●…ormitat H●…merus: That the wisest man, doth not always hit upon the right: when as a shallower brain, doth now and then wade, and that happily too, through the deepest fords of humane affairs. And when, this last night, I received Sayavedra's ticket, wherein he signified, that he was desirous to speak with me, I thought it was no idle errand, that he went about, but that there was something in the wind, what ever it were. For I have known him a long time; and that it is not his fashion to put forth to Sea, but when he hath some good prize in chase. And I am verily persuaded, that if this matter be wisely handled, and that we find good firm footing in the passage of this fo●…d, and through our own indiscretion, do not wilfully cast away ourselves, we may bring this business bravely about, and make ourselves men for ever.  
Touching his wealth, I can truly affirm unto you, (as one that knows and hath often seen it) that those commodities, which he hath now in cellarage and other warehouses within his own doors, which to Gentlemen, and others that want moneys, he 
l The Spanish word 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 that is; When the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon 〈◊〉 at 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 an●… by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 them afterward●… at 〈◊〉 rates. M●…a, is likewise, when a man b●…ye as ●…for said, an●… sells cheap. They that are in wa●…m for to 〈◊〉 some debt, ●…e thes●… 〈◊〉 as. Some de●…e ●…t from t●…e He ●…rew word hater, fodere. Others say, Mohatra, qua●… 〈◊〉, from Mota●…, to me ●…e, or a●…de. This ill manner of buying and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 forbid by th●…●…wes of Spain, and is se●…erely 〈◊〉, being 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 29. 〈◊〉. 4. lib. 3. de la nueva recopil. and Ley●… 22. tit. 〈◊〉. lib. 5. Covarr●… pag. 552.  sells upon credit at excessive dear rates, buying them afterwards at easy prizes by the help of his brokers, amount to more than twenty thousand ducats. Whereof, oftentimes he delivers me the keys, out of the great trust and confidence, that he hath of mine honesty. Besides, he knows very well, that those bales are too big for me to carry away, and therefore will spare the labour to lad my ba●…ke, with such unprofitable burdens as my weak shoulders are unable to bear. That which he 〈◊〉 cofered up in two iron chests, in several sorts of coin, come to some fifteen thousand ducats, and better. And in his Escritorto, or Tie, that he hath in his shop, some twelve days since, did he shut up a delicate d●…pple grey 
m Gato, is not only a ●…at, but is also taken for a purse full of money, which is made of a Cat's skin. To a covetous rich miser t●…ey use to say; Ata el gato. Covarr. verb. Gato.  Cat, as gentle, and as tame as myself, not with his eyes s●…arkling, nor his nails scratching, nor his teeth as sharp as any razor, but crammed full with crowns, three thousand crowns, in good, dainty brave ruddocks, all good double pistolets, some pieces of two, and some of four, not one single one amongst them all. Which he hath purposely laid aside for a certain Merchant, who is to take them upon use for six months, which he will look to be well paid for. There is not a man in all this Town that hath so bad a name, or is so ill beloved, as he is. There is no man, that wishes him good; nor any whom he doth not hurt. There is not a true word, that comes out of his mouth, he hath not one friend in all the world, he is counted one of the Caterpillars of the Commonwealth, and such a one as would cozen his own father (were he living) and negotia●…es with none, whom one time or other, he doth not deceive. And well assured I am, that whatsoever loss should light upon him, it would be (as they say) 
n En h●…, y en paz. Como si dixera, congusto de todos. Covarr. verb. Has pag. 463.  en has, y en paz, with the good liking of all men. I know not one man that would be sorry for it, but would laugh heartily at it, and make themselves therewith exceeding merry.  
He acquainted me likewise with his name, where he dwelled, in what place, and on which hand the cab●…net stood, as also the box, wherein the Cat lay. He made me so good and perfect a relation of every particular, that I could have gone thither blindfold, and have clapped my hand upon it. I asked him, whether there would be any matter of difficulty in procuring the print of his keys. He told me, that might easily be done; for that he had them all tide to one little chain, as well those that belonged to the magazine of his merchandise, as those that served to open his iron chests, which I ordinarily brought unto him; when, having occasion to take out some thing that he was to use, he would call unto me to fetch them. But being (as he is) a most covetous miserable wretch, his suspicion and jealousy was such, that he would be sure (for fear of the worst) that his eye should never be off from them, so loath was he to lose their sight. I was glad when I heard that this might be done with that facility, wherein I did imagine we should have found the greatest difficulty. Whereupon, I said unto him; That then, which we must first of all begin with, and must be the ground, whereon we must work, must be the getting of the print of these keys in wax, to the end that I may see the fashion of them, and set some Smith a work, to make them out of hand, just in every respect according to that impression which shall be presented unto him in the wax.  
I moreover mentioned unto him, that it were very fit, that we should agree upon that which we should steal from him for the present, which I would have to be carried in that discreet manner, that the muchness of it, should not so amaze us, as that we should not well know, which way to turn our hands; nor the meanness, draw us on to adventure our persons for a trifle; where the danger shall be great, and the profit small.  
Neither must we forget, that it is worthy our consideration, to determine beforehand, how the spoil shall be divided, that we may not afterwards differ, when we come to sharing. Well, this theft being resolved upon, say we should come to finger this fine pretty puss, this sweet cat, with a delicate pudding of three thousand crowns in her belly, and so proportionably reckoning alike in the rest, be it more, or less, we will go so much, or so much a piece, taking them out by the tale, as they use to do, that sell sheep. And for this money, if we shall rob him smoothly of it, all of us running equally the hazard either of the gallows, or the sword, in all natural reason, it ought to be, that as the danger was equal, so the gain should be equal. And so we being three of us, every one ought to have a third part. But in case we shall play this game safely, and wade dry foot through this ford, and that you shall not be able to lay any fault to my charge, nor receive any punishment by my ill managing of the business, every one of us coming off with a good reputation both of his life, and fame, his credit uncrackt, and the nut (as they say) whole and sound, so good an Architect, or Surveyor of the work, shall very well deserve some reasonable allowance over and above his fellow-labourers, for his good 〈◊〉, and only for his cunning contriving of the building, without any relation to the rest of his pains, that he shall take therein. And this mean I to carry away, as in reason I ought, as a due that properly belongeth unto me. So that if I enter upon this business, and be the only projector to bring it handsomely about, I will have one entire third part, wholly to myself, you shall make no scruple of it, but let it come fair and quietly to me, and the other two thirds that remain, shall be equally divided into three parts, whereof you shall have one; Sayavedra, another; and myself, the third. So that in this, we will all share alike.  
This was controverted to and fro, and much ado there was about it. But because I had the mayor part of voices on my side, to wit, mine own, and that of my servant Sayavedra, who was well contented therewith, and for that the goods which we strove about, was not any lawful partition of a father amongst his children, we quickly agreed on the matter. Well, I had the print of them 〈◊〉 unto me in wax, and caused the keys to be made out of hand, and Aguilera instructed us in the mean while, which were which; to the end that we being throughly informed, which were for the shop, which for the cabinet, and which for one thing, and which for another, we might know the better how to use them, when we should come to put this our enterprise in execution. I afterwards told Aguilera, that I would come the next morning, and speak with his Master, and that he should diligently observe all, that I did either say, or do, for the better advancing of our future designs, and that every night we should see one another, and lay our heads together for the better ordering and finishing of that task, which we had now taken in hand. He said it should be done, as I would have it; and so he went his ways.  
On the morrow I went to this Merchant's Shop, and in the presence of his servant Aguilera, after that we had complemented a little together, and saluted each other, I said unto him; Sir, I am a Gentleman, that am but lately come to this Town, with a purpose to buy some rarities and curiosities, which this City affordeth, as well for mine own use as to gratify my friends, because I am shortly to be married in mine own Country; and have for that end brought along with me a matter of three thousand ducats, and somewhat more, which are now at my Lodging: I have no acquaintance here in this Town; nor do I know the fashion of this people; nor what their manner of proceeding and dealing is: Money you know is a dangerous commodity, and runs many hazards; especially, when a man hath it not in that sure and safe custody as he desireth. I know not what this or that other man is: I lie in a Lodging, where many other lodge as well as myself; no less than a hundred go daily in and out; and though they have given me a key to my Chamber; yet am I half afraid they may have a fellow unto it, and that some incon●…nience may thereby happen unto me.  
I have been informed of your quality, as also of the worthiness of your disposition, of your plain and honest dealing with all men; and therefore upon the good report that I hear of you, I am emboldened to come unto you, to entreat you that you would be pleased to do me that kindness as to keep them for me some few days, till I have made choice and bought such things as shall serve my turn, and I shall return you many thanks, and shall be ready upon any occasion that shall offer itself, to express my thankfulness unto you; I am a Gentleman, and know what belongs to the acknowledgement of a received courtesy.  
My Merchant thought he had this money already in his possession; and I do still strongly suspect, that he and I did jump both upon one thing; he, to make my money his; and I, to steal his, and make it mine. He made proffer unto me both of his person and his house, and that I should as freely command it as if it were mine own; and that he should be glad to serve me in this or any thing else: he bid me bring it when I would, promising to keep it carefully for me, and that I should have it as oft, when, how, and in what manner myself should demand it of him, as my occasions required: so for the present we took leave each of other; ●…ee, with a resolution to keep them; and I, with a promise to bring them thither: but I never came to him again, till such time as we were to execute our exploit.  
When Sayavedra and I were come home, he stood stock still like an Ass, or like a ma●…'d man that had been garred out of his sleep, & dreamingly draws me out his words, ask me where this money was to be had, that he was to have in his keeping? I fell a laughing, and said unto him; Didst not thou carry it him even now? With that he laughed. Laughest thou, quoth I? Is this a matter to b●…e laughed at? I know that in the Car, and the Cabinet, they are kept safe enough for me. Tell your friend Agutlera, that we must needs see him about an eight days hence, and will him to bring along with him his Masters 
o Borrador, el paper donde 〈◊〉 se 〈◊〉 o dibuxa 〈◊〉; y dixo●… assi, potque ●…ndando, le ●…n quitando, y poniendo, ●…assise borra.  Borra●…, o●… book o●… remembrance, wherein he sets down his Solutes and his debts, what he is to receive and what to pay. In the interim, while we were tarrying for a good tide, and waiting for a fit time for the effecting of our purpose, Sayaveara having me one 〈◊〉 to bed, finding when I had laid myself down, no great desire to sleep; for the working of my brains (thinking upon old businesses) kept me waking: I called to my servant, who coming unto me, I spoke thus unto him.  
Sayavedra; I have a tale to tell thee, which though it be but short, yet it is worth your hearing. I shall give thee therefore to understand, that once upon 
A 〈◊〉 tale of an Ass that made his Will.  a time the Ass (that poor silly creature) fell sick, and finding himself much oppressed and weakened with his disease, growing every day worse than other, insomuch that he was now almost brought to death's door; at the instance of his Kinsfolk, and the earnest entreaty of his Children, which were very many, he was moved to make his last will and testament; and each of them striving who should be best left, and go away with the greatest portion of their father's goods, the lawfully begotten, and his bastard Children went together by the cares about it. But their honest and well-meaning Father, desiring to leave them in peace, and for avoiding of further wrangling, that every one should know his own, and what he should trust to after his death, was content in the end (for quietness sake) to make his Will, dividing his goods amongst them in this manner following.  
My Will and intent is, that my Tongue (when I am dead and gone) be bestowed 
The Asses Legacics.  amongst such my Children as are Flatterers and Backbiters: to those other my children that are angry and choleric, I bequeath my Tail for a cooler: my Eyes, I leave to the lascivious; my Brains, to Alchemists and iudic●…y Astrologers; my Heart, to the covetous; my Ears, to the seditious and sowers of discord; my Snout, to Epicures, Gluttons, and Drunkards; my Bones, to the floathfull; my Loins, to the proud; my chine, to the obstinate: Let my hinder Legs, be given to the Lawyers; my Forefeet, to the judges; and my Head, to your Scriveners and Notaries. Lastly, I bequeath my Flesh, to the poor; and my Skin, to be divided amongst my Bastard-childrens.  
I would not for any thing, that Aguilera, bearing us in hand that we should rob his Master, should come to strip us of all that we have, and leave us so naked, that we should be forced to cover ourselves with the skin of this our Testator. And I assure you, if he should chance to put such a trick upon us, he should show himself a very wise and subtle fellow: and how we should be afterwards able to help ourselves, God he knows; for I do not. I speak this unto thee, for that for the better prosecution of our intent, and that it may go well with us, that our of those Dobloves of ten, which I have here, we give him some ten of them, which will amount to a hundred Crowns; which being no small engagement, may much further our affairs. But I would not in any hand, that giving us a back blow, and showing us a fair pair of heels, he should slip his neck out of the collar, and by little and little fall off from us.  
Sayavedra, perceiving the doubts that I began to cast with myself; to free 
True 〈◊〉 amongst thieus.  me of this suspicion, made me this answer, Sir, if we should put all the five hundred into his hands; nay, say they were five hundred thousand: yet, forasmuch as it is a custom amongst us, and a rule that we never break, to use all faith and fidelity amongst ourselves, and never to be false one to another, in a thousand years they will not deceive you of so much as one poor mite; but you shall have your own again to a farthing. And therefore fear you nothing; let me run the hazard of it, and put it to my account: for I shall be content to stand to any loss that you shall suffer thereby.   

CHAP. VII.  
The robbing of the Merchant of Milan, falls out as luckily as Guzman de Alfarache could have wished it. Aguilera shares so much with him as of right belonged unto him: And he and his servant Sayavedra go for Genoa.  
FOrasmuch as Hope doth not assure us of a true and r●…all possession, it evermore makes us carry about us 
Of 〈◊〉.  a troubled and unquiet mind, our thoughts never taking rest, out of the great fear that we have, lest we should fail of that which we so earnestly desire: Only, it is Solatium miseris, the sole comfort that afflicted souls have; and that safe harbour whereon they rely; being that from it, a certain shadow (as it were) of shelter and refuge, whereby those cares and troubles are eased and lightened, which our hopes delay, doth lay upon us. And as that hope which is secure and certain doth dilate and extend our hearts to an assured affiance of that which we expect; so there is not any pain affordeth greater tonment, then that which we endure when we once come to lose it. And little less is our grief, when it defers its comfort.  
How many and how various thoughts did distracted in this short time my two stipendiary Pensioners: For, having not given them any more light, than what I have already told you, of my design; I had only sweetened their lips, and left them (as it is in the Proverb) 
〈◊〉.  Co●… lafoy miel on la boca, with a smatch of some honey in their mouth; and therefore they could not choose but reel this way and that way, staggering and wavering with their thoughts, and in the several Maps of their inconstant imaginations, one conceiving this, another that, hatch a thousand strange inventions; chewing the cud, as it were, and ruminating with themselves, when (a God's name) they should set themselves roundly to the business, what the plot might be, and how to be effected, longing to see the issue of these promised and hopeful ends, which made them almost at a stand; being (as it should seem) somewhat doubtful whether it would go on or no: and if it did; yet could they not devose with themselves how, and in what manner this business was to be carried.  
But when they saw the Sun of that day appear, no less by them, than my 
〈◊〉 cunning plot, for to cozen the Merchant of Milan of his money.  self, desired; and that Aguilera had brought me that his shop-book of accounts, according as I had appointed him. I turned to one of the leaves towards the latter end of the book, where I found some memorial booked eight days before, and in a void place, or blank, where nothing was written, I set down this that followeth: Left with me by Don juan Ossorio, three thousand Crowns in gold, some being pieces of ten, but most of them, of two, and of four. Over and above, he likewise left with me two thousand Royals, in good Royals of plate. Afterwards I drew a line upon what I had written, to show that the book was crossed: And wrote in a different letter on the margin, ●…euolos, ●…euolos; which is as much to say; All this money is mine. Afterwards I shut to the book, and gave it him again, and together with it ten Doblones of ten; willing him, that when he opened the Cabinet, he should take a hundred other out of the Cat, and put those in their room. I likewise gave him two billets; whereof the one said; These three thousand Crowns belong to Don juan Ossorio; And the other said, Here are two thousand Royals in plate, whose true owner is Don juan Ossorio. I did moreover advise him, that if there were any other bill, or note, in the bag, he should take it forth, and leave mine only there. And that of the two thousand Royals, he should clap it into another great bag, wherein Aguilera had already told me, there were some seventeen thousand more, or thereabouts, for he could not know the just number in regard they did daily put in other fresh monies amongst them. And that he should with all remember, that this great bag of silver, lay in a great ch●…st, next unto his Cabinet, and that the bag was marked with a great spot of ink near unto the mouth of it. With these instructions, Aguilera went his way, having taken order with him, that he should that night without fail, put every thing in its right place, according as I had given him direction. The day following, as soon as I had dined, I walked leisurely along to the merchant's shop, with my man at my heels, as if I had known no such matter, dissembling the business very handsomely. When I was come thither, and that his eye was upon me, as soon as he saw me, he was wondrous glad; thinking I had brought that with me, which I meant to demand of him. We did agree both in one, in respect of the purpose that we had to deceive each other; but my plot was another kind of gambol, than he was aware of. We had both one end, but the means were diverse. Now, when we had saluted one anothe, I said unto him; Tomorrow, Sir, shall I send this my servant unto you with a bag, and a ticket with it, desiring you that you will be pleased to give a quick dispatch, and to send him back▪ unto me as soon as you can, because I shall have occasion to use his service. My pooresilly Merchant, whose mind was more ben●…, how he should outstrip me by his cunning, then fearful, that I should go beyond him, and prove in the end the craftier knave of the two; thought that my meaning was, that the money should be brought him the next morning; and so said unto me, Sir, your desire shall be fulfilled: you shall have it when-soever you please to send for it.  
With that, I got me out of doors, and had scarce gone twenty paces, but I returned back again, and sud unto him; Sir, since I went from hence, I have better bethought myself, and have present occasion to use this money, and therefore (I pray) let me have it. The man's colour began to change, and seeming to be somewhat troubled, he said unto me; What money, Sir, is that you would have of me? All, Sir, (said I) all, for I have occasion to use all or it. Whereunto he replied; What all? What all, quoth I? All the gold and the silver. He answered me, What gold, what silver? I told him, That silver and gold Sir which you have here of mine. ay, any gold, or silver of yours, No Sir, (said he) I have no silver, nor gold of yours, nor do I know what y●… mean. Sir, said I, (answering him somewhat roughly) do you make it so strange, think you I do not know what I speak? I am neither mad nor drunk; this is pretty fine dealing indeed: this trick will not serve your turn. No▪ yours neither, Sir, said he; methinks yours is the prettier of the two, in demanding that of me, which you never gave me; nor have I any thing of yours. No Sir, quoth I, Take heed what you say. Let me wish you to be a little better advised. Leave off your jesting, and come to earnest, for I c●…n assure you, this is no jesting matter▪ I must not be so answered, nor do I take it well at your hands. Very good Sir, (said he) very good i'faith: it is you Sir that are disposed to jest, and to make yourself merry with me. No more (good Si●…) it is enough, I pray be gone, I have something else to do, then to find you talk. How S●…, be gone? N●…y, by your leave (quoth I) there is more in it then so. I must not go hence without my money. Money, (said he) what money would you have of me? What is your demand? Marry, I demand (said I) those Crowns and Reyals which I left with you the other day. With me, (said he) you never left any Crowns nor Royals with me: Go look your Crowns and Royals else-w●…ere; the devil a cross that I have of yours. Then said I unto him, Are you not ashamed to avouch this before these Gentlemen, that are here present, who but even now before them, when I told you that I would send my man tomorrow for them; you answered me, he should have them; and now that I come to you for them myself (having present use for them) do you deny me them with one and the same breath? Deny you Sir, (said he) I deny you nothing; nor nothing shall you have of me: for I received nothing of you; and nothing shall I return you. How Sir, nothing? Did not I Sir, some eight days since bring you these moneys, desiring you to keep them for me, and did not you yourself receive them from me? Give me therefore my moneys, and that presently, for I will not that you keep them one minute of an hour longer in your hands. In my hands, (said he?) I have not so much as one farthing of yours in my hands: and therefore God be with you Sir, I have no more to say to you. It is the Devil that deceiveth us all. I think so indeed (quoth I:) for sure the Devil did deceive me when I trusted you with my money. And with that, my inflamed choler, having set my whole face on fire, I angrily said unto him; What meanest thou by this, that thou wilt not restore me my money? before thee and I part, I will make thee lay it down here on this board, even to the uttermost farthing, or else I will know why I shall not; Be wise therefore in time, and well advise with yourself (I would wish you) what you do, for fear of after-claps. The poor man was so troubled, and struck into such a fear, when he saw I was so hot and choleric in the business, and so resolutely bend upon it, that he had not a word to say; yet at last, with a kind of counterfeit smile, seeming to make a jest of my words, he bid me be gone, one while in God's name, another in the de●…s; saying, that he knew me not, nor who I was, nor what was my name, nor the thing that I demanded of him. Whereupon, turning myself about to those (which were many) that were there; Art thou so impudent (said I) as to say, Thou dost not know who, nor what I am, thinking thereby to o●…t-face me, and to cozen me of those moneys thou hast of mine in thy han is? But I doubt not but I shall find good justice in Milan, and that (though fullsore against his will) he should be forced to make me peesent 
b The Spanish 〈◊〉, Vn pie a la Françesa. Vale, all instant. Covarr. verb. Pie.  payment. My man denies it more and more, telling me, I had much mistaken my mark; and that I might happily have given it to some body else to keep: for he stood stiffly unto it, that he neither had any money of mine, nor did owe me the value of one farthing, though indeed (he said) he must thus far forth confess the truth; That I came unto him, and that I told him, I would leave so much money in his hands to keep for me, but that I never brought them unto him, nor that he did either see or touch, one faithing of mine: And therefore, if I had a mind so to do, I might go a God's name, and complain to the justice, and that if it should appear that he ought me any thing, he should be very willing to give me satisfaction. When I saw he had armed himself with this resolution, I did open the doors of my lips a little wider, foaming at the mouth for very anger, and straining my throat to a higher key, said unto him, O thou false traitor, heaven's justice overtake thee, and let all the plagues light upon thee that the earth can afford, (vile and wicked man as thou art) wilt thou thus then rob me of my moneys before my face, and thus injuriously go about to undo me? I must have thy life, or my money. And therefore make no more ado, but bring me hither presently my three thousand Crowns: bring them I say, and quickly too; it shall not boor thee to deny them; for I will either tear them out of thy throat, or make thee lay it down here, in good gold and silver, as thou hadst it of me.  
The house was all in an uproar, and those likewise, which were present there from the beginning, that this difference happened between us. Upon this coil and stir ●…hat was between them, there came in many into the shop, as they passed along the street, besides a great number of the neighbours, ask one another, what was the matter? For now were we grown so loud, that we did not well understand one another. All that were there, went enquiring, what was the cause of all this noise, what we quarreled about, not so few as a hundred were talking here and there, of it, and every one relating it each to other; some in one manner, & some in another, whilst we within drowned all that the other said, so earnest was the contesting that was between us. In the heat whereof comes me in a Bargello, an officer of the same nature with our Alguazil in Castille, a kind of Sergeant or Catchpole, but he bore no Vare or white rod in his hand, as ours do, and making the people to give way, he came up where we were, being both (through the heat of our choler) as hot, and as red as coals. When I saw the justice present (howbeit he was a stranger unto me, and knew him no otherwise then as he was the justice) I saw my suit at an end, and that the cause was like to go with me. And here taking my Cuckoe, I began in a milder temper to speak thus unto those that were by: Gentlemen, you have seen and heard that which hath here passed between us, and how, and in what manner, this naughty man hath denied me mine own money; let his own man speak the truth concerning this business, and if he (out of his respect to his Master) shall refuse to deliver what he knows, let his own Book speak in my behalf, wherein shall that appear to be set down, which he received of me, and in what parcels, and in what manner of fashion I delivered the said moneys unto him; to the end that it may be known unto you, which of us is the honester man, and speaks the most truth. Should I be so shameless to ask a man that, which I never gave him? Into a Cat-skin bag, that he hath, he did put into that Cabinet three thousand Crowns of mine, some of two, and others of four, and for to make my proofs more plain and clear unto you, he hath intermixed amongst them, ten Crowns of ten, which in the whole make up just the sum of three thousand Crowns. And in a bag, which he locked up within that chest, (wherein he told me there were at that time I delivered him my moneys, near (together with mine) about some seventeen thousand Royals) did he put those two thousand, he had of me: And if this (which I tell you) be not true, I am content to lose it all, and that you take my head from off my shoulders, for the arrantest traitor that ever spoke with tongue; And if here in your presence, before I stir a foot from hence, I do not make good unto you all that I have said. Only (Gentlemen) let me entreat (though a stranger) so much lawful favour from you, that there may present inquisition be made concerning this business (considering how nearly it concerns me) that he may not (by gaining of time) have opportunity to transport them to some other place. And turning himself toward the Bargello, he said: See now (Sir,) I beseech you Sir to see, which of us two, treats falsehood, which intends deceit? The Merchant then said; I am content to stand to this motion, and to put myself upon this trial, I shall bring forth my books, I care not who see them, let them be perused, if any such thing be there to be found, you shall likewise see all the money, that I have in the house, and if any such thing shall appear as this man would make you believe, I will confess that he says truth, and that I am in 〈◊〉 wrong. Then said they, that were present; This business is now ended, they are both agreed upon the point, and it will strait be seen, which of these two are in the right.  
The Merchant commanded his servant, that kept his Cash, that he should bring him his great book of Accounts; He did so: but when he had brought it, I excepted against it, and said; O thou cozening companion; this is not the book, it is a lesser than this, a little kind of Manual, that a man may easily hold in his hand. Then he willed him to fetch the Manual that was in the Cash, being a little thing of some four sheets of paper, like a notebook. Which when he had likewise brought; No, no, (said I) what need so many tricks and devices? why do you seek to deceive us thus with your book? this is not that which I would have, you need not to beat so about the bush, the bird that I look for is not here; I asked for your chalk, and you give me cheese; I would see that, wherein you did set down those particular sums of money, you received of me; it is a little long narrow book; you know well enough which I mean, if you were disposed to bring it fo●…. Then said Aguilera, It may be Sir he means that wherein you write your Memorials, for so it should seem by the description of it; for there is not any other besides of that fashion, to my knowledge in the house. And bringing it before us, he turned himself towards me, and said; Is this, Sir, the book that you would have? I answered, yes, this is it, this is it, and none but this. Now (Gentlemen) I pray see whether I say truth or no. This will decide the controversy, his cunning can no longer cloak itself, and this will make his kn●…ry plainly appear unto you. They began then (having the book in their hands) to turn the leaves one by one, and when I spied mine own hand, and what I had there set down, I said; I pray (Gentlemen) will you be pleased to look upon this writing, and to see what it saith; Read I pray these parcels of moneys, which he hath crossed and blotted out, (though the sums are easy to be seen) and by that which I here perceive, he hath noted it in the margin to be paid. But this trick shall not serve his turn, for I will have my money before I go from hence. They did all look upon it, and might easily discern, those very sums, by me before mentioned. Whereat the Merchant was so mad, and so transported with passion, that he knew not what to say unto it, but began to curse and rail, & swearing a thousand oaths, vowed that he did not know of it, nor how it came there, nor who had written it. To clear that doubt, I answered; I wrote this myself, this I confess to be my hand, but that in the margin is a different letter, and the quotation as false as God is true; for he never returned me one penny of it; and in that Cabinet that stands there, if he have not taken it thence, there are my Crowns.  
Hereupon, like a furious Bedlam, he began to rage and rave extremely, so that the standers by did undoubtedly believe, that all I had said, was true. And seeking to pacify me (for I seemed to be very angry with this foul dealing of his,) they wished me to quiet myself, and to rest contented, for the crossing of his book was not material, nor his writing in the margin, that he returned me my moneys, if those things should fall 〈◊〉 right (as I had said) in the rest. What greater proof, (than said I) or what truer token can you have of my truth & his falsehood, than his late protestations, that he never received anyone penny of me, and yet you here see it set down, though having a purpose to play the rogue with me, he afterwards crossed it out. If he received it, why does he deny it? If he did not receive it, how comes it here? I pray you cause that Cabinet to be opened, where I doubt not but you may chance to find my Doblones, where you shall light amongst them, upon ten Doblones of ten Crowns a piece? At this, the Merchant fell 〈◊〉 fun●… and a fretting, and stamped for very anger, refusing to open the Cab●…, and 〈◊〉 ●…ly striving against it, as if they should have offered to rip up his belly, and 〈◊〉 ●…ut his heart, vowing and averring with sundry hideous oaths, and fearful obsecrations, that all was roguery and villainy, and that there was ●…ch matter as I talked of; and for those Doblones of ten, he did there confidently a●…ch before them all, that he had not one, or not above one, (if he had that) in all his house. Such ado there was, to get him to open the Cabinet, as was wonderful; He denied to do it; The Bargello was as instant, as he was stubborn, and said, he should do it. The latter insisted to have the keys; The other resisted, and said, he should not have the keys. When the Bargello saw this, he began to grow now as hot, as before he was jealous of his double dealing: and swore a great oath, that if he would not fetch the keys, and open the Cabinet by fair means, and that quickly too, he would take it out of his house, and carry it away with him, and give particular notice of all the whole business, to the Signior Capitan di gi●…ia, (which is there with them of the same quality and authority as a Corregidor in Castille) and there deposit it, that the truth thereof might be known. At last (though sore against his will) he gave him the keys; and when he had opened the Cabinet; Sir, (said I) there in 〈◊〉 a Box did he put them in a dapple-gray Cat-skinne: They opened that Box, and pulled out the Cat by the ears, and going to tell the money to see if it were right or no, a piece of the Billet showed itself. When I saw that, with somewhat a more cheerful countenance, I reared myself up and said: Let this Paper, I pray, be read; for that scroll will declare how much there is in the bag, and whose it is. They read it, the Contents expressing Don juan Ossorio, to be their true owner. Well, they fell afterwards to tellin●… 〈◊〉 them and found them to be just three thousand Crowns, with those ten of ten a piece which I told you of.  
Things being brought to this push, and falling out so pat as they did, my Merchant was struck as dead as a herring, he was absolutely now gone, quite overthrown horse and foot, without hope of recovery, he had not a word to say for himself, nor knew not in the world what to allege in his own excuse: it seeming unto him to be Opus Daemonii, that the Devil had a hand in it; for he thought it was impossible that any man should be able to do it. Besides, he considered with himself; that if I could find hands, to put these things there, I might easier have found hands to carry them away.  
He was quite beside himself, and cried out, that all was lies and nothing but lies; that his goods were wrongfully taken from him; that this money was his, and no bodies else, that the Devil had put those Doblones there, and not he; that they should lay hold on me, for I had a familiar, and a great many the like broken speeches.  
Let them lay hold a God's name on me (said I) so that I may have my money out of thy fingers. I gave him very rough and harsh language, telling him; O thou Impostor, thou cheating rascal, hast thou yet a tongue to talk, seeing how evident thy wicked dealing appears to all the world: open that chest too I pray; for there lies my silver, I saw him put it in. There is no such thing said he; for all the silver that is there is mine, and so are these three thousand Crowns. How yours, I pray Sir being you did but now confess that you had no Doblones of ten? It was God's will to cause thee to forget that thou hadst received them, that I might not lose my moneys. He that will deny another man his own, had need of a good memory, as also a care to remember what he says.  
When I first came in hither, thou toldest me here before these Gentlemen, that to morrow I should have them, sending my man for them, and now that I came back again to demand them of thee, before the same Gentlemen, thou deniest to have any such thing in thy keeping. Let that Chest therefore (I pray) be opened, take out all that is in it, and then it shall be known which of us two is the honester man, and 〈◊〉 it is that lives by cozening others, either he or I? They opened the Chest, and when I saw the bag, though there were diverse other there, some of more, and some of lesser sums, reaching forth mine arm I pointed out that wit●…●…y finger, saying; this with the black spot is it. In conclusion, they found that to be true, which I had said. And this truth was the more confirmed, when pouring out that bag for to count the moneys, they met with th●…●…ther Billet, which said, That my two thousand Royals were in there amongst the rest: then I began to be louder than ever I was before, and cried out unto him. Thou vile naughty man, thou false crafty Merchant, thou common coozener, thou enemy to God, thou that hast neither truth nor conscience in thee: is this thy honest dealing? this thy fair proceeding? this thy good usage of those that have to do with thee? No marvel thou be rich, if thou take this course with others, as thou hast done with me: and if thou hadst my moneys (as is apparent to all the world) how didst thou dare first to cross and blot out what I had written; seeking thereby to defeat me of my due? And then afterwards so impudently to affirm that I had given thee nothing, and that thou didst not know whence I was, nor whither I would, and that you did not so much as know either me, or my name? What canst thou now allege for thyself? Hast thou any more false money to coin? any more lies to stamp? See how thou art overtaken in thy mischief, how blinded by thine own wickedness, that thou hadst not the wit (which was Gods just punishment upon thee) either to take away these memorandums, or to hide the money? See how his divine Majesty hath been pleased to make good my innocence, and to protect my simplicity, that downright plainness, wherewith I committed my moneys to thy custody, presuming that I should have them again, when-soever I called for them. But I now verily believe, that he, that did advise me that I should trust thee with my moneys, was such another sharker as thyself; and one of your projectors for your profit, a bloodhound of your own making, to wind out your commodity. All they that were present, with this that they had seen & heard, were as much amazed, as offended, at the Merchant's base and roguish dealing, being now throughly satisfied, that I had a great deal of reason, and justice on my side. The common voice was wholly in my favour, the proofs, and evidences seen and allowed, and the ill report that ran of him before, did now ring in all men's ears. Insomuch, that not a man of them, but said; Fie upon him, do you not see how this greedy Cormorant would have swallowed this poor Gentleman's moneys, which he had delivered unto him upon trust? But it is no such news, that an usuring knave should like a Harpy, prey upon other men's goods. And had he not used the better diligence, and had his wits about him, it had been all utterly lost, and damned for ever. The Merchant, who with his own ears heard not only these, & the like, but far worse words spoken of him, had not so many mouths, or tongues, wherewith to satisfy so great a number, as there railed against him; nor indeed was it possible for him (as things were carried) to justify himself, but stood like one, that did not well know, whether he were asleep, or awake. It seemed then unto me, that he rubbed his hands and elbows, to call himself to remembrance; or that he began to think with himself, whether he had lost those two potential faculties of his Understanding, and Memory, and that only his Will was remaining unto him, considering what had past. He (as I told you before) had gotten himself a very bad name, which made much for me, and was as good as half a proof for the clearing of my business. And this punishment still lights upon them that lead a lewd life, that slight proofs are sufficient to overthrow them, and makes the cause go currant against them. This only of itself, without any farther ado, would have served the turn well enough to help me to my money again, which was much strengthened by those that were there present at my first coming thither, who there took their oath, That he said unto me, that if I should send my servant unto him the next day following, I should not fail of my money, and that within a little while after, I returning thither again, and demanding it of him, he denied it unto me. His own servant likewise swore, that I in his hearing (as being then present) did entreat his Master that he would keep three thousand Crowns for me, and the aforesaid sum of royals, but whether I did deliver them unto him or no, he could not answer to that, but must refer it to his Master's book of Accounts, which did not always lie in the shop, but was often carried in, and more he could not say concerning this matter. My servant, he on the other side swore, that he told out the moneys with his own hands, and delivered them unto the Merchant, in the presence of diverse others, that were then in the shop, but knew not who they were, for he was a stranger in that place, and therefore could not have any knowledge of them. So that, what with the pregnant proofs of all that I had said, what with seeing in what manner he had crossed the book, what with finding the sums of money (by me mentioned) to fall out so just, both in their place, and number; as also, that every bag had his particular billet, which told, whose the money was; they all took part with me, and were mainly bend against him, not suffering him to speak a word in his own defence, nor to hear any thing that he could say, to excuse himself. He had spent all his breath in vain, and had not now the spirit to talk any more; for, being strucken in years, and seeing so strange, and unexpected an accident as this, which he did not so much as once dream of, thinking it impossible that he should be thus overreached, waxed thereupon so pale and so won, as if he had been a dying man, continuing for a good space in a swound. All that were there, did verily believe, that my Merchant was dead, and that it was a just punishment of God upon him for his perjury and false dealing; but he afterwards came again unto himself, but so stupid and senseless, that I began to take compassion of him. But in these his swoon, I did comfort myself, that if he should chance to dye, I should have had less miss of him, then of his money.  
In a word, there was not any one, of all that were there, which did not say, Let the Gentleman have his money, give him his money. But I, knowing full well, that it was not the voice of the vulgar (though I was beholding to their good wishes) that could assign me my money; but that it must be awarded me by the power and authority of the judge, and by course of Law, I was very wary in advising with myself, how I might prevent all future mischiefs, and that the end of this business might be answerable to its good beginning. And therefore when they all with one unanimous consent, and voice, cried out; The money is his; give the Gentleman his money, give him his money; I answered very mildly, and gently; No, not I; I will none of it, I will none of it; let it be deposited, let it be deposited. So, for the better justification of this business, the Bargello, that was there present, took away the money with him, and deposited it in one of the neighbour's hands, that was an honest man, and un-interessed on either side. Which, with a little suit, was within a few days after by way of sentence, delivered unto me; My merchant being not only cozened of his cash, but condemned in costs and charges of Court, besides the general infamy, which by this means fell upon him.  
When I saw so much money in these poor and sinful hands, I did often think upon that theft, which Sayavedra had done upon me, which though it were not of that great value, yet was it not so little, but that than it fell out to my great hurt, albeit afterwards, it turned to my greater good. For if that had not been, I should not have known so much as I now do, nor come off so cleanly with this theft. And therefore comforting up myself, I said; it was 
Proverb.  the better for me, 
c Si me quebre la pierna, quiça por mejor.  that I broke my leg. It might have happed worse with me, had it not happed so ill. My marring, was my making; my loss, my gain. So that all fell out to the best. For from that time, ever since, have I lived in greater credit, and better furnished with moneys, then before I was robbed. I was grown rich, Sayavedra relieved, and Aguilera had well patched up a broken estate. I carried my moneys home with me, as merrily as the heart of man can possibly imagine. I clapped it safe under lock and key, I looked charily unto it, and leapt it up very warm, that it might not catch cold. And albeit all things succeeded thus happily with me, yet Sayavedra, though he felt it, had it in his hands, and touched it again and again, yet could he not believe it was there. It seemed unto him as a dream, and thought it an impossibility, that this business should prove so lucky. He fell a blessing of himself with both his hands, as oft as he thought upon my craft and subtlety. For albeit, when he was acquainted with me in Rome, and knew my course of life, and did perceive by my carriage, and manner of proceeding, that I had a subtle wit of mine own, yet 
Proverb.  for all this did he not think, nor could be brought to believe, that I had so much store, as he now found to be in me. Or that I had been so good an Archer as I was, 
d Matarlas en el Aire. i. s●… un hombre muy agudo, y cortesano. Covarr. verb. Matar.  to kill birds, as they were flying in the air. He supposed, I must have come much short of himself; for he was many years my ancient, and might very well (for his standing) have been my master, and I his apprentice some six years at the least, to have learned the Trade. I said then unto him; Friend Sayavedra; This is true knowledge, this is the right skill of it, this the Art, and the cunning, to steal without danger, 
e Hurtar, sin peligrar, y bien medrar.  and to live and thrive well by it. As for those things, which thou didst preach unto me upon the way, they were lessons of the Turkish Aleoran, mere toys, and trifles to these. To steal a kirtle, and receive a hundred stripes for it, every fool can do this. Your expenses, 
f The Spanish phrase is; Mas es la data, que elcargo.  exceed your receipts; and the gains, will not quit the cost. And therefore, wheresoever I shall come, such as you may veil bonnet, strike sail, stooping your standard to me, reverencing me as your king and superior.  
Some two days after, comes Aguilera for his share, stealing by night unto us. And had it not been for Say●…vedra, I had showed him Velez his trick, who ran away with the bride, and the bridecake too. The devil a penny he should have had of me. But because I was willing to uphold my reputation with him, and that he might not conceive an ill opinion of me, by leaving so foul an impression of falsifying my word behind me, and that he might not take occasion to say to himself; Surely, if this man deal so unjustly with another, it is a thousand to one, he will use me in the same manner. I must drink in the end of the same cup, as he hath done; I would not hazard much, to get a little. Aguilera told us, that his master was even ready to dye for very grief, and almost mad with imagining how this was brought about, and that it would not sink into his head, but that this was the devils doing, and that he, and none but he, was able to bring such a thing to pass. I told him out a hundred crowns, for those Doblones of ten, which he had received of me with his 
Guzman shares the theft with Aguilera, and Sayavedra.  own hands, and gave him just to a hair, as much as his share came too. Having dispatched him, I came to Sayavedra, and offered him his part, together with the gains of the former five hundred crowns. But he told me, that he knew he was sure enough of them, when-soever he should have occasion to use them, and that not knowing well where to keep them, he was content they should remain still in my hands, till he should find some fitter opportunity to dispose of them.  
We continued in Milan, some ten or twelve days after this, though not altogether free from fear, lest the wind might chance to chop about; and therefore we did agree to go from thence, and to get us to Genoa, making no body living acquainted with our intended journey, nor spoke so much as one word of it ourselves, for fear of what might follow thereupon. But rather gave out, that we were to go for some other place, far wide of that, feigning a business, which did much concern us, to make all the haste we could.  
It was my chance (before I went away) to walk through one of the streets in Milan, wherein there was such choice and variety of wares, and in that abundance, that I stood amazed at the sight of them; and by chance I espy de a chain in a certain shop, which they had sold to a Soldier: which in my eye, was one of the fairest that ever I saw. I had such a great good liking unto it, and was so earnestly affected with it, that I was resolved either to buy it, in case they had not already agreed upon the price, or to take order to have just such another made me. Whereupon, I drew near unto the stall, and standing by, began to look upon it, without giving them to understand that I had any mind thereunto; but it pleased me so well, and I was so taken with it, that upon the sudden, in that little scantling of time, taking it to be fine and pure gold, I had presently plotted in my head, how I might have it along with me to Genoa, and that without any great labour. I stood listening, while he was bargaining for it, and while they were thus beating the price, the seller demanded very little for it, which me thought was dog-cheap; whereupon I began to suspect, that what he asked, was rather for the workmanship of the chain, than the chain itself: but they, not agreeing on the price, I began presently to pitch my hey; ask him what it might be worth, and what it weighed. I had no sooner made him this question; but the Merchant casting up his head, looks upon me, and falls withal a smiling, telling me; Sir, this is not to be sold by the weight; but taking it altogether as it is, we sell it as reasonably as we can afford it.  
This word alone was enough; for by this I knew that it was false and counterfeit: and holding it a great baseness for so slight a toy to hazard much treasure, and that this plot of mine, which I had already cast in my head, might stead me better hereafter, reserving it for some great occasion, and of more importance than this could be; besides, being that no wise man will adventure his person for nifles in a bag, I forbor●…o execute my purpose; wisely considering with myself, that if I should have gone on with this, and miscarried therein, it would have been a sufficient proof against me, that I had played the Impostor in my late business with my Merchant. I presently therefore came to his price, and paid it him with as good a will as if it had been a thing of great value: and I must tell you, that I made no small reckoning of it, in regard of those designs for which I intended it; and particularly in that, which (as it afterwards fell out) turned to my exceeding great good and benefit. For which purpose, (having the plot already in my pate) I resolved with 
Guzman plotteth a new deceit.  myself to make me one of gold out of hand, just of the same making and fashion as that was in every respect, that you should not be able to discern which was which: so like would I have them to be the one to the other.  
Whereupon I got me to a Goldsmith, who made it according to my mind, showing himself so good an Artisan, that should you have taken them both into your hand, and compared them together, it was impossible to judge which was the true one from the counterfeit, save only by the sound and the weight; for the false one was somewhat lighter than the other, sounding more bell-like; whereas that of gold was more massy, and had a more churlish kind of sound with it: it cost me in the whole, about some six hundred and thirty Crowns, and I should not have been sorry, if I had bestowed a thousand; for then that counterfeit one should have yielded me as much: with them I bought likewise two little curious boxes, as like as like might be, to lay up these chains in, each by himself in his several box, which were fitted and fashioned as I could have wished them.  
And because all the joints of my body did still pain me very much, conceiting 
Turn to the first Part of Guzman, the third Book, and the first Chapter.  with myself that my ribs and my huckle bones were dislocated and slipped out of their right places, ever since that night's kind entertainment, which my worshipful Uncle gave me; which I have kept hitherto written in my soul, the ink thereof being not as yet dry: and being now upon the way for Genoa, I imparted some part of my mind to Sayavedra, not recounting unto him all the whole Story of it; but only acquainting him, that when I passed that way, being but a child to speak of, some of my friends had done me an affront, and put a jest upon me; because I was not either in such good clothes as might honour and grace their company, or so flush of money, that they might get something by me. And I was heart-angry with myself that I had told him so much; because he should not take me in a lie, if he should chance to remember what I had told him before.  
But letting that pass, and dwelling no longer upon it, I went on in my discourse, and said farther more unto him: if thou Sayavedra wert that true friend as thou professest thyself to be unto me, thou wouldst ere this have been 
* He here texeth Mateo Luxan Sayavedra, the Author of the false second Part, for his omission of a promised revenge, mentioned in the first part, by our Author, Mateo Aleman.  at Genoa, and have revenged the wrong that I there received. But I must be enforced to do it myself, supplying thy default, and neglect thereof, by mine own industry. It will also well beseem me so to do, that I may cancel that obligation, and pay this debt that I owe them, to the end that those good turns which they did me, may be fully requited; and receive not only the principal, but use for forbearance. But to remove all suspicion, we must do that which you and your brother did, change both our apparel and our names. I like very well of it (said Sayavedra) and further promise unto thee, that I will inherit thy true name, that I may the better both imitate and serve thee. From hence forward therefore I style myself Guzmande Alfarache: and I (directing my speech to Sayavedra) will invest myself with mine own proper name, which I inherited from my Parents, and until now, have not hitherto taken it upon me. For, a Don ought to be a gift which comes from the holy Ghost; because it is admitted, and well received of others, or it must be derived from the direct line, from father to son. For your Dons, that now strut it up and down Italy, glorying more in this title, than the Peacock in his painted plumes, are nothing but infamy and shame. For there is not a Spaniard in these parts, (though the son of a Cobbler) but goes adorning himself with the name of Don, that he may be held a Gentleman. And if it go there as it doth here, a man may very well ask, without offence; who keeps the Swine? Henceforth, I call myself Don juan de Guzman: and with this title will I content myself. Then said Sayavedra, with a jocund heart and a cheerful countenance; Don juan de Guzman, 
g In Spain when a Comedian acts his part exceeding well, the applaudite they there give him, is to cry, Vitor, Vitor, Vitor, such a one, Pinedo, or Fernandez.  Victor, Victor, Victor: which name can become no man better than yourself; so well it suits with your noble actions: confusion light upon that Trait or that shall seek to spot it. He (my brave boy) that shall take it from thee, my curses shall pursue him to death. I had furnished myself in Milan, with as much rich silk Grogram, as would serve to make me a cloak, and a 
h Sotana, a g●…rment much like our clergymen's Cassocks here, which reacheth no farther than the knee: which is the common wear of your Grandes, and other Noblemen and Gentlemen in Spain. Dizesi Sotana, porque se trae soto el manteo. Covart.  Sotana; and so being provided of all things necessary, we began our journey for Genoa.   

CHAP. VIII.  
Guzman de Alfarache comes to Genoa, where being known by his kindred, he is feasted by them. He persuades every one to live virtuously; And shows the hurt, which Murmurers, Hypocrites, and false Witnesses, bring to men's souls, honours, and riches; He delivereth the great profit, we shall gain, by avoiding such venomous Basilisks. And concludes with telling us, who are true thiefs indeed.  
LOng will the vessel keep that his scent and savour, wherewith 
Quo semel imbuta recens, &c  at first it hath been fully seasoned. If the course of my life, the occasions and the chances that befell me, Love, & Fear, had not opened the eyes of my understanding; if these I say, could not awaken me, and rouse me up from the sleep of my sins, and those vices, wherein I was fulled so fast asleep, I cannot persuade myself, that any other humane forces are of power to do it. And howbeit, with stratagems, inventions, devices, and diverse other means, it might be brought otherwise to pass; yet not with that easiness and facility, (as some may imagine.) For it will require a large Discourse, how, and in what sort, a man ought to make his election, by distinguishing profit, from dis-profit; just, from unjust; and good, from ill. And when it once comes to this point, the business so stands then with him, That he that will be but willing to put his own helping hand to get out of that mire of sin, wherein he lies wallowing, 
The force of virtue.  and endeavour to free himself from that muddy sink of vice, those good inspirations of heaven, shall never be wanting unto him, which favouring, and furthering his virtuous actions, will add strength unto his weakness, and raise him up from the death of sin, to the life of grace. To the end, that knowing and acknowledging his forepassed errors, he may learn to correct his faults for the present, and for the future, grow up to perfection. But they that are devoid of reason, who like the Bull, shut their eyes, and bow 
Men without reason, and who they be.  down their heads to give a blow, following their own wilful appetite, seldom or never, shall come to the knowledge of their own misery. Because, like they that are blind, they will not see; and like those that are deaf, they will not hear: and out of a headstrong and wilful humour, will not give way, that any should cross them in their lewd courses. They take great joy and delight in walking in the path of their own lusts; it seeming so long unto them, that it shall never have an end, or that this life of theirs shall ever come to be cut off; whose happiness (they make account) doth only consist in this their vain and idle idolatry. These are men of a large life, but a far larger conscience. They love the broad, better than the narrow way. They know full well, that they do ill; and therefore do ill, because they have no mind to do well. They feign themselves to be ignorant of that, which they are not willing to understand; yet wot well enough, that the thread of their life, goes daily wearing and wasting away; and that the string by which it holds, must crack and break in sunder, in the end; and then their perpetual downfall, will fearfully and with a great deal of terror, present itself unto them.  
But because we see that God's hands are nailed fast, that they stir not against us, and that he is much grieved and afflicted for us; we think, it would much vex him, that we should be vexed. Such fools as these, say to themselves; 
The language of fools.  we feel no pain, nor have any aches, but are sound and lusty; we want no money, but have the world at will; our house is well furnished, we have plenty of provision; let us lie down and sleep, and take our ease, stretching ourselves on our ivory beds; let us live as merry as the day is long, sport while we may; we have time enough before us, we need not to make so much haste to go unto God, shortening that life, (by lessening our pleasures) which God hath allotted unto us. They defer their doing of good, and put off their amendment of life, from an hour, to a day; from a day, to a week; from a week, to a month; from a month, to a year; and from one year, to many: so that hours, days, weeks, months, and years, run posting along by us; but this quando, this when, is not yet come; this time, that we should repent and amend our sinful lives; And when it doth come, it shall be happy for us, if it come not too late. This is that debt which is said to be recovered at three several payments; but if neither in our youth, our manhood, nor in our elder age, we do satisfy this debt, the punishment that will light upon us for non payment, will be certain, sharp, and sudden.  
What means the Usurer, that he hath not God in his mind, nor doth once think upon him, acknowledging no other God, but his ungodly gain? What 
An exageration against the enemies of virtue.  the Wanton, who to please his lust, adoreth her, whom he ought rather to hate? and placeth all his happiness in that, which he knows must turn to his eternal torment? What the Epicure, or the proud man, that son of Lucifer, who makes it his common practice, to martyr the innocent, being more cruel therein, then Dioclesian, oppressing the righteous, and persecuting the virtuous? What the unprofitable Murmurer, who hoping to make himself a fortune, seeks to undo other men? Scraping, like the 
a Escarua la gallina por sum mal.  hen, to her own hurt; whilst 
Proverb.  using diligences to prejudice others, they light upon that, which works their own bane?  
The man, that is honest, well able to live, and of a good life, and civil conversation, doth not rob, filch, nor steal; for he lives contented with those favours which God hath been pleased to bestow upon him; he maintains himself with that, (be it more, or little) that he hath, feeds his family, and sustains both himself, and others. And such as these, are wont, in their contemplations, to lift up their eyes to heaven, and to breathe forth this sweet and thankful meditation: O Lord, I have as much, as is needful for me, and somewhat (I thank thee) to spare, to give unto others. And these good Christians 
The honest Christian.  count it an happiness and honour unto them, when through God's blessing, and goodness towards them, they are able to say; that they have something yet remaining of their store, to give unto the poor, and such as need their relief.  
The thief he steals, because it is his only maintenance, having no other 
The Thief.  means to live. And when all is gone, and that he hath nothing of his own, he seeks to snatch from others, if he can but once come to lay his hands on it. He that is a noble Gentleman, will ever so far forth respect his honour and credit as is fitting for him, and seek to maintain his port, and to live like himself, in a liberal and plentiful manner; but yet will not stick to grace, and do good to others.  
But on the contrary, the Murmurer maintains himself with the honour of 
Murmurers.  his friend, and of his neighbour, robbing him of his good name, and lessening his worth, as much as in him lies; for, if he rob not others of it, he thinks he shall not have any for himself. It is as strange, as to be pitied, that the sea, should breed fishes, that have no tongue; and the earth bring forth men, that have too much: that the sea should afford us Soles; and the earth, men that have no souls.  
Your Hypocrites, who boast their letters of credit, which they have given 
Hypocrite.  to the world; are like unto those that play at Tennis, who strike the ball against the ground, that it may the better come to their hand, and tossing it to and fro in the air, keep it up a good while, till it come to be either a chase, or a loss. But of all other, most wretched, and most miserable are those men, who make long prayers with their lips, and devour with their mouths, the goods of the poor, the widow, and the fatherless. Wherefore God will severely punish these holy offenders; holy in outward show, but not in heart. An Hypocrite, is like unto a gun, that is charged; for every man doth not know, what is within it, or whether it be charged or no; but if you once put fire to it, the least spark will send forth a bullet, that shall overthrow a giant, and lay him on the ground: So, your Hypocrite, upon every little occasion, how-soever he may seem for the present to have no harm in him, will vent his malice, and be ready to do you a mischief; and when you least think of it, give you such a blow, that your shall never be able to rise again.  
There are a certain sort of men, that are like unto your dry withered Peartrees; 
Dissemblers.  lean, tall, and stooping; hanging their heads in their bosoms, as if they would seem to be Saints, and go leapt up in a long threadbare cloak, as if they were to accompany a Coarse to the grave, or were themselves to be interred. These are fools of the first form; and will with this their dissimulation and grave carriage, make us believe, that they are wonderful wise, and of great understanding. These I say are principal fools; they will steal you four or five sentences out of this, or that other Author, whereof they make a Gallimaufry, serving them in, as a dish of their own making, recommending it unto us as theirs. They feign their justice, to be equal with that of Traianes; their sanctity, with that of Saint Paul; their wisdom, with that of Solomon; their sincerity, with that of Saint Francis; yet under this cloak, what shall you find? If you search it well, you shall find, an hypocritical knave, a seeming Sanctificetur, but as arrant a villain, as ever trod upon a shoe of leather. They carry a lean, and meager countenance, but their works flourished over with painting; little breeches, but large consciences; nothing but yes verily, and indeed, in their mouths; but their heart is full of lies; a public kind of charity, but an insatiable secret avarice; they manifest a kind of abstinence and fasting, as well from meats, as temporal means; but their throats are so dry, and their thirst so great, that they will swallow up the whole Sea, devour other men's estates, and yet be so far from being satisfied therewith, that they remain as thirsty as they did before. They say, they have enough, and more then enough, and that much less would serve their turn, and is more than they are worthy of; yet are they so greedily given, that they are never contented, and nothing can fill their hungry maw. They are like unto your Dates; soft and sweet without, but hard and stony within. They carry honeycombs in their mouths, but wormwood in their hearts. They have sweet tongues, but sour souls. Great pity is to be taken of these men, for that they suffer so much, and enjoy so little; and are finally condemned to Hell, for this one poor fading vanity, to be esteemed honest and religious, when indeed they are nothing less. So that, they neither cloth their backs, nor feed their bellies, according to their own content and liking, but go up and down in a miserable kind of manner, afflicted, hunger-starved, withered, pale, and won, denying themselves ordinary necessaries for the use of this life, not being able truly to say, that they have had one hour of content in this world, bearing always about them a troubled body, and an unquiet mind, their corpse, and conscience equally suffering. Now if this, which they thus, and in this manner suffer, as they do it, and endure it, only for the world's sake, and to seem outwardly holy, that thereby they may gain a good opinion amongst men; if they would do this, I say, for God's sake, laying aside their dissimulation, and not debarring themselves of those good blessings, which God hath created for man's use and comfort; questionless, in so doing, they might lead a happy life in this world, and enjoy everlasting happiness in the world to come.  
Let us say something of your false witness; whose punishment doth give satisfaction to the people, and is pleasing unto all men, taking pleasure in their 
False witnesses.  chastisement, in regard of the heinousness of their offence. For, for a matter of six Maravedis, a thing of nothing, you shall have them swear six thousand falsehoods, and take away six hundred thousand men's credits, and estates from them, which lies not afterwards in their power to make restitution thereof. And as your day-labourers, and other workmen, repair to certain set-places, appointed for that purpose, to be hired by those that have occasion to use them; so do these kind of men come to your Courts, your Consistories, your places of public business, even to the very Offices where your Notaries are a writing, to learn how things go there, and to offer their service to those that have need of them. And if this were all, the matter were not great, but it is worse than you think it is; for the very Officers of the Courts themselves, do maintain and countenance these lewd fellows, that in those causes that occur (as occasion shall serve,) they may make use of them for their advantage, suborning them to bear false witness, for the proving of such, or such a business, which they will not stick to testify upon oath. This I assure you, that I now tell you, is no jest; nor do I therefore speak it unto you, to make you believe that which is not so; nor do I lie one jot, in all that I have said unto you. For there are false witnesses enough to be found, if any man be disposed to buy them. And are as frequent in your Notary's Office; as Conserves in an Apothecary's shop. Or like horseleeches in a glass, ready prepared for the business, when-soever you shall be pleased to put them upon it. Let those that have a mind unto them, go to D. N. his Office; I was about to name him, before I was aware, but 'tis all one; for I am sure you all know him, or can give a shrewd guess whom I mean; there shall you have these Knights of the Post, at all kind of prices, as you shall have pies in a Cook's shop; some for eight Royals, some for four, some for two, and some for half a Royal, as choosing rather to play small game, then wholly to sit out.  
But if it be a weighty cause indeed, there is also another sort of them, of a higher rank, and at a higher rate, as we see there are pies for weddings, and for great feasts, which will cost you somewhat more than ordinary; these are those, that are Musket-proofe, and will (to strike the matter dead) not stick to swear, that upon their own knowledge, for these fourscore years, they remember such and such a conveyance was passed thus and thus, such a piece of land passed over after this or that manner, and a hundred the like.  
Like to that Country-clowne, who being a shallow brained coxcomb, a 
A Country fellows mistake: for ochenta anos, he names ochoçientoes.  very lobcock, being brought into the Court by his Landlord, to witness a thing in his behalf; and instructed by him, that when he should be asked how old he was, should answer, he was eighty years old. The silly fellow, did not well understand him, but being desirous (as it should seem) to do his Landlord a pleasure, being demanded touching his age, took his oath, that he was eight hundred years old. And albeit the Notary wondering at this so inconsiderate and unadvised an oath, did advise him to take heed what he said; he clownishly made answer, Do thou take heed how thou writest, and stand not a sifting of other men's lives, but let every man be as old as he will himself. Afterwards, the Notary reading the report of this witness, when he came to the point concerning his age, the judge apprehended it to be the Notary's error, and would have punished him for it; but he excused himself, saying; That he did no more, than what did belong to his office, in setting that down aright, which he received from the witness his own mouth; and that although he had admonished him thereof, and bid him be better advised, yet he stood stiffly in it, and ratified what he had said before, saying; That he was of that age, and that he should so set it down. The judges caused the witness to make his personal appearance; and demanding of him, why he had sworn, that he was eight hundred years old. Because (and it like your Lordships) it was for the service of God, and the Conde, my master.  
There are store of false witnesses every where, the streets are full of them, they are to be hired for money, but he that will save his purse, and have them for nothing, let him seek out some kinsman or other, that is his enemy, with whom thou wagest law; for he to be revenged of him, will swear any thing against the whole generation of thy adversary. But from these malicious minded men, good Lord deliver us. For they do us the greatest hurt.  
But let us leave these kind of men, and come to those of mine own occupation, and to that our Company, or Brotherhood, which is the ancientest and greatest that is in the world. For I would not have thee to tit me in the teeth, that I have a pen for others, and let mine own stand idle in my standish, or else cause it to run another way. I will not pass by this door, without knocking at it, and that sound too; I will not lie lazing in the shade, nor making myself merry in the Tavern.  
A thief, what will he not do, to steal? Which word Thief, I apply to 
Of thieves. Who be the brave thieves.  such poor sinful creatures as myself. As for your great rich theoves, such as ride on their foot-cloths of velvet, that hang their houses with hangings of tiss●…e and costly arras, and cover the floors of their chambers with gold and silk, and curious Turky-carpets, and often hang such poor snakes as we are, I have nothing to say to them. For we are far inferior unto them, and are those little fishes, which these great ones do devour. They live bravely, upheld by their reputation, graced by their power, and favoured by flattery; These, are of that strength, that they break the gallows; hemp was not sown for them, nor for them were your Galleys built, except it be to bear command in them. Of which command, it may be, that we shall remember to say something in its proper time and place, if we hap to come thither, as I hope in God, we shall. But let us now speak of those thieves, that are not fit to be left out, such as myself, and my servant Say●…vedra. We will not touch upon those that rob justice; for there are none such I trow that will do so, nor is it known, who they be. And if peradventure there be any such, that have done so, we have already spoken thereof at large in our first Part. Nor will we speak of your Rulers, nor Governors, nor your Counsellors of State, for we have likewise created thereof heretofore; besides, their managing of these matters, is not of any importance at all, or worth the talking of. For take them out of their track, put them from their wholesale, and turn them to retail, or remove them from that pond, wherein they have lived, and they are to seek which way to wind themselves; I will not give a button for the best of them.  
But some perhaps will tax me, and say; That thou art, as they are; both birds of a feather; seeing thou art so willing to smother their lies, their deceits, and their falsehoods. For, if it should be demanded, what means hath Master N? The answer would be; Sir, He is a Regidor. What, is he no more than a Regidor? How lives he then thus gallantly? How can his Office alone maintain this bravery, having no set revenues, or other rents coming in besides, considering what a port he carries, what a house he keeps, what store of servants, and horses, that continually attend him? You say well Sir. But I perceive by you, that you do not truly understand the mystery of it, nor rightly conceive, how this may be brought about. True it is, that he hath no rents, but he hath his renters, and none can execute that Office without his licence, paying him so much rend for it; whereof the greatest part comes to the Regidor, the rest remains to the renter, to the end, that he also may live, and have wherewithal to discharge his rent. But why dost thou not speak freely what thou knowest concerning these men? I may not, nor I dare not; for if any man should presume to speak of them, oppose himself, though never so little against them, or but once offer to question either their lives, or their actions, they will make him hold his peace with a pestilence, they will never suffer him to live in quiet, but force him for his own ease to fly the Country. For being (as they are) men of great place and power, they will presently fall a feeling, to find a 
b Buscan la paja 〈◊〉 el oydo.  straw in thine ear; that is, they will seek a hole in thy coat, 
Proverb.  and pick some one quarrel or other against thee, and either by right, or by wrong, they will overthrow thee, if not utterly undo thee. They are like unto your Cupping-glasses; which (where they once fasten) sit close and hard to thy skin, and never leave drawing and sucking, till they have haled from thee what they would have, nor is there any taking of them off, till they be as full as they can hold. I could also tell thee, that no man dares say; Black is their eye; or go about to have them punished. For whosoever he be, that offers that, it fares with him, as it usually doth with your pipkins; which when they are set full of water over the fire, they no sooner begin to boil, but the water runneth over, and puts out the fire that was the occasion thereof.  
Understand you me now? Yes marry do I: And, it may be, they pass over these things the better, by reason of their good Angels of guard, which free them from those blows, that would otherwise fall upon them, and rid them out of all their troubles. I could tell thee likewise somewhat which thou hast left out, that if these men, after they were hanged, should have their causes heard, and see what they could say for themselves, even those very men would then plead stiffly against them, who heretofore were in their favour; but now for the fear, that they have of them, they are well content to eat their meat in quiet, and to hold their tongues. I could tell thee besides, if I would unmask these men, that they fare daintily at other men's cost, have what they will, either for nothing, or dog-cheap, making the poor to pay for it, who must pay most, and fare worst. But it is now time to make a full point, and to leave them with their Agentes, and Consentientes, their instruments, and their copartners to themselves: For in conclusion, they are, as thou art; and worse than thou, and do much more hurt; for thou dost but damnify one house alone; but these a whole Country.  
O what good counsel dost thou give me! But let me wish thee (my friend) to make use of it thyself. Think'st thou perhaps to save thine own fingers from burning, to take the 
c Sacar las brasas, con la mano del gato.  Cat by the foot, and therewith to rake the 
Proverb.  coals out of the Oven? If thou knowest this to be true, or hast any thing else to say of them, speak it yourself for me: for I have told thee all that I know, and I would not willingly that they should deal with me, as thou say est they deal with others: for I have no mind to come under their lash. Suffice it thee, that contrary to that decorum that is fitting for the greatness of their place and quality; I have enlarged myself in speaking more already; then may well become me. Nor am I willing to oblige myself anew, to sift their lives, nor dive into their doings, being there is no good to be gotten by it, if things run along in this strain there in Italy, God be thanked, that I am going for Spain, where no such robberies as these are used. But because I am a Spaniard, thou wilt say, that all the world is my Country; it is true; and in saying so, thou dost not lie. But shall I tell thee one thing? I know how all this may be remedied, and that very easily too, to the great augmentation and good of the Commonwealth, and by the general consent of all good subjects, to God's good service, and the King's great honour; but for the better effecting thereof, I must be forced to follow the King, presenting his Majesty with memorial upon memorial, Petition upon Petition: and when I shall have brought the business to a good pass, and as it were to the very upshot, such a Favourite, or such a great Lord, Don B. buzzes him in the ear, and tells him, that it is an idle and foolish Project, and unable to take effect. For, it reflecting generally upon them all, they out of their great power will trample me under foot, and crush me, that I shall never be able to lift up my head any more, leaving me in far poorer taking, than I was before. But I am afraid to wade too far in this deep water, for fear of drowning. A shallower ford is safer, and fitter for me to dip my foot in: because I speak the truth, they count me a base and obscure fellow; and for that I presume to give them wholesome counsel and sound advice, they call me Rogue, brand me with the name of Picaro, and thrust me out of doors by head and shoulders, scorning such a jack-sauce, and downright rascal as I am. But they shall not carry it away so. Let them take their course, and we will take ours, treading in the steps of our noble Ancestors: and (God grant) that they that come after, do no worse than we do, Only, I will be bold to tell you thus much; that there are far more thiefs than there are Physicians. Neither need any man to make himself such a Saint, as to take offence when he hears the name of a thief spoken of, showing himself queasie-stomacked, and seeking to disgrace him, till he ask this question of himself; whether, either here, or there, he hath not in his life time played thee thief himself? And to this end, I would have him to know; that to steal, is no other thing then to detain that which 
What stealing is.  is another man's, contrary to the will of its owner.  
For mine own part, I would make no more reckoning, that a man did not know that I had any thing of his, then if he did know it, and had given it me with his own hand, so as he be not able to hurt me, and have not the power to take it away from me again by force. I learned this Lesson from my Childhood, though I did not always put it in practice. I was like unto a tree, that is cut down to the very root, which leaves some live-sap still remaining, by means whereof it grows in time to be a new Plant, and begins to bear the same fruit it did before. And you shall see by and by, how quickly I return to my old bias. While I left off stealing, I was like unto forc'dearth, I was out of my proper Centre; now, with a little use, I am come to the same lewd course that I ran before. When I was a Lad, I was quick and nimble, I had a facility in filching, and could lay hand on any thing, were it never so hard to come by. But now that I am turned Man, me thought at the first, I was grown gouty, both in my feet and hands; I found myself much slower, and duller than I was wont to be: but in a very short time I recovered my former health.  
I continued my accustomed thefts, & took such pleasure in them, as a Soldier could not more in his arms; nor a Ginet in his trappings, and other his rich furniture. When any doubts did arise, I did resolve them; if they were to seek for Plots, I did invent them: and in all weighty businesses, I was their safeguard and defence: they would hearken unto my advice, as to the answers of some Oracle; there being no man that would contradict my rules, nor withstand my laws, nor reply to any thing that I should once determine. Those that were best practised amongst them that frequented the Hospital of Saragoca, and Guadalupe came short of me; though I used the trade but now and then, like the intermissions of an Ague: for, when all things else failed me, and that I knew not what shift to make, I had this, my five finger for a help, this did never forsake me in the time of need: it was sure money in my purse, and stuck as close to my neck, as my Lord Ambassadors chain did, which a long time escaped many a fair danger. The trade of thieving was as proper to me, as laughing is proper to man; nay, I had almost said, that it was as a Character not to be blotted out, such deep impression had it taken in my soul. But when I did not exercise the same, it was not any want of good will; for that was ever ready, and at hand.  
ay, and Sayavedra went out of Milan well lined, and better provided of all things that were needful for our journey: so that there was no man but would 
Guzman goes for Milan.  have taken me for a very rich man, and one of note and quality. But how many 
Proverb.  be there that might very well have said, Sat down 
d Come, mangas, que a vosotras es la fiesta.  Gallants, and fall to; for this feast is provided for you. For, as a man's apparel is, so 
e ●…gan a cada uno, como lo ven t●…atado. Good clothes recommend a man more than knowledge.  is his esteem: And they that know not a man otherwise, make their censure according to 
Proverb.  his clothes. If thou wert Cicero himself, and shouldst go ill clad, thou shouldst be no longer Cicero, at least a scurvy Cicero, whom the world would scorn, and count a mad man. For there is no other wisdom, nor learning in the world, than the having of so much more wealth, and so much more land than another man. And he that is not so, may like a dog, go shake his ears without doors: he is like money that is not currant; he passes not for any thing where-soever he come. They will neither offer thee a chair to sit down, nor give thee the upper hand, when they shall see thee without a feather, though thou be rich apparelled with virtue and knowledge; but of such now a days, there is little or no reckoning made. But if thou be gloriously set out, and richly suited, though thou be never so base a Groom, every man's eye is upon thee, every man's hat ready to honour thee. Be thou as base and vile as any dunghill; yet if it be covered over with green grass, many will set themselves down upon it, and there recreate and refresh themselves. But Catulus was not of this 
Catulus his saying of Nonius.  mind; who when he saw Nonius riding in a triumphant Chariot, sticked not to say, what a deal of dung doth this Cart carry? Giving us thereby to understand, that dignities do not grace the vicious. But there are now but few Catuls, though there be many Nonii. Nay, wert thou but good Alchemy, that shall be adored in thee, because of its glorious and gaudy glittering. Men do judge now more by the eye, than the ear; by what they see, then by what they hear: the outside is more looked on, than the inside looked into: a rich raiment sounds louder than a good report. No man considers what thy knowledge is, but what thy wealth is: they talk not so much of thy virtue, as of thy purse: and of thy purse, not what thou hast in it, but what thou spendest out of it. I was well appointed, well apparelled, and g own four inches thick, with other folks 
f The Spanish word is Enxundia Adeps porcinus, interior pinguedo porci inveterata. Also; lo gordo, que las 〈◊〉 tienen en la overa.  fat.  
When I came to Genoa, they knew not in my Lodging what cheer to make me, nor how to please me in my diet, I was grown so dainty and so curious. I than began to call to mind the first entrance that I made into that City, and 
Guzman arrives a●… Genoa.  in how different a manner I was there received; and how I was forced from thence, carrying my Cross upon my shoulders; and how now they receive me, spreading their cloaks on the ground. We alighted, and fell to our victuals. That day I was willing to take mine ease, and to rest myself after my journey. The next morning I apparelled myself, à lo Romano, no Roman of them all could wear a fairer Cloak, & Sotana, in which I walked up and down the streets. All men's eyes were cast upon me, as well for that I was a stranger, as likewise in regard I was well clad, and of a presence not to be despised. They asked my servant, who I was? He told them, Don juan de Guzman, a Gentleman of Sevilla: And when I heard them inquire after me, 
The effects of Pride and Vainglory.  I would pop up my head, stretching out my neck, some what more then ordinary, thinking with myself, that I had some ten pound weight of Bread more in my Belly, than I had before: so Peacocke-like was I blown up with Pride, and such store of this puff-paste of vainglory had I swallowed down my throat. He told them that I was newly come from Rome. They demanded farther of him, if I were rich; because they saw me come from thence in a differing fashion from the rest: for they that go to the Court of Rome, and to other Prince's Courts, are like unto those that go to the wars, who think 
The fruits of following the Court and Wars.  all the world must now be theirs, and that they have already finished what they went for; with which vain hopes they using to flatter themselves; they lash out into extraordinary expenses upon the way, as likewise in the Court; till the Court leaves them so curtailed, that they have scarce ere a rag left them to cover their breech; returning home afterwards, weary in their bodies, poor in their purses, discontented in their minds, and driven to that extreme want, that they must either almost starve or beg their bread. They go thither fresh and lively, flush of money, and rich in clothes; whom I can liken to nothing better, then to the fish called the Tunny; which, when it is full of spawn, is also full of fish, fat and fair to see to, and is very good meat; but when her Spawn is gone from her, she turns lank, lean, and unseasonable; proving as unprofitable to the stomach, as it is unpleasing to the Palate.  
They likewise enquired of him, whether I were to continue there for any long time, or passed only along as a Traveller, taking it in my way. To all which questions, Sayavedra gave such answers, as I could myself have wished: Telling them that I was the only son of a widow-gentle-woman, of very good quality, being a wonderful wealthy dame, which was wife to a certain Gentleman of Genoa, and that I was come thither to expect certain Letters and dispatches, and then to return back again to Rome; and that in the interim, I would recreate myself here in Genoa, taking much pleasure in the sight of this stat●…ly City; for that I knew not when I should make my return, nor for what part, or whither I should ever have the like opportunity to see it again. The Inn, where I lay, was the best in all the Town, and is commonly called, L'Hosteria di santa Marta, whither the most part of your Noblemen, and Gentlemen did usually resort. There we remained, making merry, and spending our money, without doing ourselves any 
g The Spanish phrase 〈◊〉, Sin bezar, y tocar, en cosa d●… provecho.  good at all in point of profit, nor did we as yet go about it. And in keeping thus our ground, we came to gain ground. The Clock doth not always strike, but stays till its hour comes, and when by a little and a little the time creeps on, that is limited thereunto, why then it strikes. I played now and then, but not for much money, with some other guests, that were in the house, more for company sake, and to pass away the time, than any thing else, not using any other help then mine own fortune, and skill in gaming; Sayavedra had now no hand in the business, nor did I use to set his plough a work, save in deep and fat grounds, where there was hope of a plentiful harvest; I kept him for Holidays, his attendance was, when there was a great feast, and a full board; but for such poor pittances as these, not worth the sitting down for, I was well content he should spare his labour. For, when the lose or the gettings could not be much, the best course than (me thought) was to proceed plainly and sincerely. Yet, 
The common course amongst gamesters.  when I played small game, I went along with a leaden foot, marking and observing this, and that other Card; and if Fortune did not favour me, and that my crosse-carding was such, that I could not light on a lucky encounter, I would give off with a little loss: but if the wind blew fair, and that I found good fortune was coming towards me, I never left following my good luck, till I had swept unto me all the money on the board.  
And it so fell out, that having one day won a matter of a hundred Crowns, and somewhat more, it was a Captain's hap, that had the command of a Galley, to sit by me, who I perceived, liked very well of my manner of play, and was very glad that I had got the money; and reading in his looks, that he had no great store of Crowns in his purse, but was rather in extreme want and necessity, I gave him six Doblones of two, which in that coniuncture, considering his poverty, seemed unto him to be six thousand.  
There is a time, when one single Royal, is more to a man then a hundred; nay a thousand perhaps at another time, will not do him so much good. For the which he made me such a thankful acknowledgement, as if the favour I had done him, had been much more than it was, or some matter of greater moment. And this fell out very happily for me; for having afterwards understood from himself, of what disease he was sick, and where his grief lay, at that instant, was mine own remedy likewise represented unto me, and quickly found out, that I was to make him the needle that must knit my net. In a word, I effected what I desired. He spends nothing, who buys that he hath need of. I distributed likewise some few Crowns amongst the rest of the standers by, to make them the better devoted, and affectioned towards me, and that I might leave every man well pleased and contented. Insomuch, that by this my affable, frank and bountiful carriage, I grew into that credit and good opinion amongst them, that I had won their hearts, and got the good w●…ll and love of all men; and it is an old saying, That he that sows 
h Quien bien siemora, bien coge.  well, 
Proverb.  reaps well. And I can assure you, that as many as conversed with me, would have hazarded their lives for me, if need had been. Wherewith I found myself so jocund, my body so lightsome, my heart so comforted, my blood so clear, and my spirits so quickened, that my cheeks were as fresh, and red as the Rose, and mine eyes did sparkle, and looked so merrily, as if they had laughed for joy.  
This Captain was called Favelo; not that this was his proper name, but because it was given him by a certain Mistress of his, whom he sometimes served; which he was willing still to retain in remembrance of her beauty, and his own misfortune; the whole story whereof, he at large related unto me; as how dearly she loved him, how much she made of him, endearing the sweetness of her disposition, her gentle behaviour, and the gracefulness of her person; all which commendable qualities, poisoned with some vain and false appearances, were drowned in the end by a desperate torment of jealousy, and such other beastly thoughts, as are still waiting upon it. And from that time forward, he would never suffer me to be alone, but was for the most part continually with me, and did embrace my friendship with the greatest love that could be. Whereupon, I entreated him, that he would be pleased to make use of my person, if I might be any way serviceable unto him, and to be my guest, and take such fare as I had, and though I knew I did bid him to his loss, as keeping a better Table of his own, yet for my sake, and the contentment I should take therein, he ought in courtesy to accept of it. I omitted no means, for the obliging of him unto me, and the continuing of him still to be my friend. He had me along with him to his Galley, feasted me, and made me take my pleasure in her, all along the coast, ploughing daily such deep furrows for the better taking root of this our new friendship and acquaintance, that if mine had gone on in the true course of virtue, there it might have found a Haven wherein to have harboured itself. But I was made of nothing but fraud and deceit. Yet would I be always laying a firm foundation, that might well have served for the raising of a better building: but at last it came all to nothing; being (like that foolish builder) who knew better how to begin, then to make an end of his building. We did communicate many particular accidents and secrets each to other, but he came not within my shirt, he had not pierced into my bosom, Sayavedra only kept the key of that Cabinet, and none but he knew the secrets of my soul.  
This Favelo was of a good behaviour, witty, discreet, valiant, patient, and yet full of mettle, qualities well befitting so valiant a Captain, and so amorous a Soldier, by means whereof he lived always in want. And it is a common misfortune that accompanies these good qualities, that they are still waited on by poverty (or to speak more properly) by beggary. Now I, who was not ignorant of his wants, sought in all that I could to relieve his necessities, and to free him from these his extremities, that thereby I might bind him the surer unto me. I carried myself so fairly and so cunningly, both with him, and as many as I conversed withal, that (like Hawks) I made them all to stoop to my lure. And within a few days, my name and credit was so good amongst them, that I could battle largely upon it, and might have received any curtsy in that City, if I had been willing to make use thereof. Whereupon, partly out of this, and partly the ancient desire that I had to know something concerning myself, lest the not knowing of it, might make me take thought, and so sicken, and dye of grief; considering with myself, that being in that good state I now was in, a handsome young fellow, well clad, good parts, and a good purse, no man whatsoever could hold it any disparagement unto him, to acknowledge me for his kinsman; but that which did most sway with me, 
Guzman begins to think upon the revenge he meant to take of his kinsman.  was the earnest desire that I had to be fully revenged of him, who had abused me in that base manner. This did often trouble me; nor could I sleep in quiet, as oft as I thought upon it.  
I had not stayed long in town, but I found out a father and a mother, and came to know all my kindred. Those, which before threw stones at me, as if I had been some strange cur, whom they would chase out of their doors, did begin now to quarrel, who should have me first home to his house, who make me greatest cheer, who give me the noblest entertainment, one seeking to outvie another. The very first day that I made this enquiry, my kindred was more (I imagine) than my credit, and might be better known then trusted amongst them; for no man is ashamed to own a rich man for his kinsman, though he be vicious and ill given; but all fly from a virtuous man, if they once have him in the wind, and find that he stinks of poverty, I need not to endear this point unto you, it is so common a thing.  
Riches, is like unto fire, which albeit it belong to a different place, and is 
Riches compared to fire.  only provided for one particular room, yet notwithstanding as many as come near unto it, warm themselves, though they take not so much as a coal 
Proverb.  from thence; and 
i Mas fuego, mas calor.  the more fire, the more heat. How many shall you see warming themselves by the fire in a rich man's hall? of whom, if you shall but ask what they make there, or what's their business? They will answer you; No great business. Do they perhaps give me any thing? Alas, what dost thou get, by curring favour with them, by soothing them up, by crouching and creeping unto them, by assisting day and night in base and servile offices, misspending that time, which thou mightst better bestow in gaining thy meat elsewhere? It is true Sir, that I benefit myself here but little, yet can I not choose, but come and warm myself at Senor N. house, as others do. You, and such others as you be, tell me I pray, what you are? and be not angry with me, if I plainly tell you, you are all fools.  
But to return again into our way. Many of my kindred came unto me, every one desiring to make himself better known unto me, and offering his service in such complemental manner, as was befitting my fashion; and there was one amongst the rest, who for to honour, and oblige me the more, did challenge ancient kindred of me, even from our great grandfathers. I would, for curiosities sake, fain know, what was become of that good old man, which put that former trick upon me; and that I might do it without any the least suspicion or jealousy in the world, I demanded of them, whether my father had any more brothers? or if he had, whether any of them were yet alive, or no? For, I was ever of the mind, that he that played the rogue with me, was my Uncle. They told me, yes. That there were three of them in all, my Father, and two more: and that the middle most was dead, but that the eldest of all was living, and that he dwelled here in the City. They told me that he had lived a bachelor all the days of his life, that he was a man of great means, and the top of all our kindred, and gave such particular tokens of him, whereby I came to know him. I said that I would go kiss his hands the next day: But when this was told him, and that he understood of my quality, albeit he were very old, he came trudg●…ng with his st●…ffe in his hand, as decrepit as he was, to visit me, accompanied with some of the chiefest of our lineage. I knew him as soon as ever I saw him, though he was now grown very lame and aged. I was glad to see him, but sorry that he was so old, I could have wished him much younger, that he might the longer have felt the smart of those jerks, that I was resolved to bestow on him. I count that man a fool, who to revenge himself of his enemy, will take away his life; for that being ended, all his pain is ended with it. When I would take a revenge, I would handle it so, as I did with these my kinsmen, that they may not forget it as long as they live, but bear the woeful remembrance of it with them to their graves. I desired to be revenged of this man, and wished that he had been at least in the same state as I left him, that I might in the same, have paid him the debt I owed him: who had without any cause or reason in the world, used me so unworthily. He made me many offers of his house; the very naming only whereof, made my blood to boil in my breast.  
Now (me thought) the Bats were fluttering about mine ears, that the Gnats began to sting me, and that from underneath the bed, crept out those old Hob-gobblins, and fire-spitting devils, which tormented me heretofore. No, no; once was enough of this jest; I would bite no more at this bait. The Cat hath 
Proverb.  
k una few, y ●…leuosela el gato. I cannot find whether this una isr served, and therefore reserre it to others to find it out.  cozened me once, and is gone away with her prey, but she shall serve me so no more. I shall take heed of her against another time. Marry, I said to myself; Only Sayavedra, may put another trick upon me, but it will not be much for his profit. But (excepting him) let any man else deceive me the second time, and I will freely forgive him.  
We talked of many things; and amongst diverse other questions, he demanded of me, if I had been heretofore in Genoa? Are you thereabouts (thought I;) I shall watch you well enough for that, you shall not catch me with thy trap, as old and crafty as you be. So (lying at my close fights) I answered him, that I had not; only I told him, that much about some three years since, that I passed this way, but could not (though I would) stay longer than one night, because I was going in great haste to Rome, upon pretention of a certain benefice. 
This Story you shall find, more a●… large, in the first Part, first Chapt. an the third Book.  Then he told me, with a great deal of pause & deliberation, dreaming perhaps that he had lighted on a story that should please me wonderful well, Some seven years ago, little more or less, there came hither (my good Cousin) to this town, a little roguish boy; whom none that saw him, but would have taken him to be a thief, or at least a young disciple of theirs; who, that he might the more easily rob me, came to my house, giving me some particular signs and tokens of my brother, that is now in glory; as also of your mother; telling me, that he was his son, and my nephew; This is true that I tell you (Cousin) thus, and in this manner came he unto me: but he looked so like a Rogue, and we had that suspicion of him, that not owning him for our kinsman, lest his infamy might reflect upon our family, and turn to our disgrace, we sought to make him leave this City, and so he did, by means of a pretty plot which we had devised for him. I can assure you (Cousin) that he went flying from hence, like a dog that hath a bladder, with some few rattling pebbles in it, tie to his tail; we could never more set sight on him, nor do we know whether he be dead or alive, as if the earth had then swallowed him up quick. With the levaltoes & high-bounding capers that he cut, flying finely in the air, with no other help then a Coverlet, without the which, (you know) your tumblers cannot handsomely do their feats of activity; I very well remember that he left my bed, (whether out of fear, or what other accident I know not) full of honeycombs. This jest proved a very good one; for fearing (if he stayed any longer here) to have a worse put upon him, he got him packing, and so we were fairly rid of him. And I cannot choose but laugh, as oft as I think upon it: For questionless this Rogue had a purpose to deceive us. But I believe he will remember this night's lodging (if he be yet alive) the longest day that he hath to live. And I have been often angry with myself, and have beshrewd my fingers a thousand times over and over, that I used him no worse.  
All that liad formerly passed, he related unto me very solemnly, omitting no one circumstance: As the contriving of the plot, his making him go supperless to bed (supposing that might have holp to save his sheets) and which was worse than all the rest, his tossing in a blanket.  
I poor man, that was this little rogue that had suffered all this, and had received such hard measure from them, apprehended it so feelingly, as if I had been afraid I should have gone to this gear again: My flesh did break out (me thought) into chaps; and like the wound of a murdered man, did open of itself, and began to bleed afresh, (upon the hearing of this tale) as if the murderer were present. And albeit, I sensibly perceived in myself, that the colour of my face did receive some alteration, having changed its natural hue, yet did I dissemble it the best that I could; and then, even then at that very instant, did I whet the razor of my revenge. Not so much moved thereunto, out of my former hunger, that I had to do it; as this his present boasting, what fine feats he had done; seeming to take a pride and a glory in doing an undeserved mischief. For I hold it a greater sin (and doubtless so it is) to boast an ill, then to do it. I did itch all the while this tale was on foot, and knew not which way to look, nor what to say. At last I said unto him; I can not call to mind, who this youth should be that did so earnestly long to have honourable parents; yet are we beholding unto him, (if haply he be alive, and have escaped with life from Ronçesvalles) that of all other noble Houses (whereof there are so many in the world) he would vouchsafe to make choice of ours, to honour himself there withal. And if such another stripling as he, should chance to come to my house, I would show him all the kindness I could, till I had fally informed myself of the truth, and had assured knowledge, whether he came unto me out of an evil, or good intent. For there are some Cases, and so me such strange and unexpected casualties, whereunto man's courses are incident, that even persons, of great, both worth and valour, escape in that miraculous manner, and are by their misfortunes, brought to that low ebb, that they are ashamed of themselves. But this wag, when I had sifted and sounded him throughly, and found out his intent, I would have dealt with him, as he would have dealt with me: For Povertie neither quits Virtue, nor Riches give it. And in case it should not have fallen out as my suspicious thoughts had suggested it, and that (for aught I saw) he had no evil intention towards me, nor any purpose to do me any harm, I should have favoured him all that I could, and have secretly dismissed him from me. And in a word, though he had not been my kinsman, yet for the good choice that he made, and the good liking he had to our name, preferring it before any other, surely he should not have fared the worse for that. And if I had not given him any money in his purse, yet would I at least have used him civilly, and not sent him away discontented, who (as it should seem by him) was not very well pleased with his entertainment. Go to, go to, (Cousin) (said the oldman) had you seen him, as I did, you would have told me another tale then now you do. And for mine own part, (I must confess unto you) it did me good at the heart, that I had thus firked my young Rogue; and (as I told you before) I am very sorry that I did not handle him worse, and give him that condign punishment, which the heinousness of the offence did deserve. For you never saw such a tattered Rascal as he was in all your life; and being thus all to be rend and torn, and not a rag (saving your reverence) to cover his breech, yet this shake-rag, this young impudent Rogue, did not stick to challenge kindred of us, and that he was lineally descended of our house, and in so near a degree, as you have heard. And because he brought not his wedding garment with him, but was thus poor and basely clad, we gave him jack Drum's entertainment, and shut him out of doors, having leapt him first in a blanket, where he was handsomely canvased; and with this he went his way. Just about the same time (said I) was I with my mother in Sevill. And it's not yet full three year since I left her. I was their only son, nor had my parents any other children save myself. It was even at my tongue's end, and almost out of my mouth ere I was aware, that I had two fathers; but quickly mending that fault, I went on, as followeth: My father left me well to live, being neither so much, as therewith to be able to spend lavishly; nor yet so little, that with good government, I might not live handsomely. I cannot boast myself to be rich, nor justly complain that I am poor. Besides, my mother was always a prudent and provident woman, well governed, a small waster, and a great huswife.  
All they that were there present, were willing to give me the hearing, and were wondrous glad of it, not well knowing in what Sanctuary they might place me, nor how sufficiently to feast me, nor could they satisfy themselves in point of good manners, if they did not give me the right hand, and being two, if they did not put me in the 
l The middle place esteemed in Spain, to be the best.  midst between them both. Then did I softly say to myself; O vanity, whither wilt thou? how dost thou run after those that are fortunate, as long as they sail with a fair wind. But when that fails thee, how in a moment do thy friends forsake thee, how many changes dost thou find in an instant? And how truly, did I now come to know that they are evermore favoured and resp●…cted, from whom any hope may be had, that one way or other, they may be benefited by them? and this is the reason why few do help the needy, and all run after the rich.  
We are the children of pride, and rather flatterers than friends. For if we were true friends indeed, and were charitably minded, we would have recourse to the contrary. Especially, we knowing how acceptable a thing it is in the sight of God, that every one should be as sensible of his neighbour's miseries, as his own, seeking to do the same good unto him, as we would have to be done unto ourselves, were we in the same wretched case, as he is. I was now become the idol of my kindred, so much was I adored by them. I had bought me at an 
m A public out cry: Or an open sale of goods at the second hand.  Almoneda, a fair Cupboard of plate, which cost me almost eight hundred Ducats; and for no other end in the world, but to close up this my wound the better, I invited all my kindred together, with some other of my friends one day to dinner, I made them a great feast, bestowed a costly banquet upon them, cheered them all up, made wonderful much of them, and gave them all the kind entertainment I could possibly devose. After dinner, we go to play, I get the money, but gave it almost all away in barato to the standers by. And with this conjuring trick thus I carried them through the Air, I was able to do what I would do with them. O that I could have then whispered them softly in the ear, and have told them; Know (Gentlemen) that 
Proverb.  you feed upon your own flesh; that the 
n En el hato, està el lobo.  wolf is in the midst of your flocks; and that he, whom they make so much of, is he, whom they so much wronged. O, if they did but know so much, how would they bless themselves, what a world of crosses would they make in every corner of their houses, that they might not be troubled with a double labour all the days of their life after to do the same thing again, a thousand and a thousand times over? For now their mattresses were a quilting, and their beds a making, wherein they were like to take but little rest, and fetch more friscalls in the air, then when they tossed me in the blanket; so that they shall have as good cause to think upon me, as I upon them; and remember one another the better as long as we live. But my pain was already past; and theirs was now coming upon them. O, if they but knew, that he that is thus with them in sheeps-clothing, shall ere long break suddenly in upon them, like a roaring and raging lion, how would they look one upon another? But it is well as it is; for ere they and I part, we will quit scores, and make them to know me a little better, and what it is to abuse one in that manner as they did me, and to scorn and despise their own blood. It is a fine stale, or call, to take a bird withal, to have a good eoram vobis, to spend bravely, to go gallantly, and to be a Don juan de Guzman; but it had been better for them, that I had been poor Guzman de Alfarache with his tattered clothes, than Don juan de Guzman in all his gallantry. They used me with a great deal of courtesy, and gave me very kind entertainment, but because I had a queasy stomach, and was troubled with many qualms, like a woman that is a breeding, out of that longing desire that I had to be revenged, nothing would down with me, or if it did, it would make no stay, but I should presently puke it up again. For in such cases, a man's thoughts are ever of a bad digestion; it being the nature of injuries, not to be easily concocted. So that I did continually beat my brains about it, plodding with myself how I should best effect it; and in this virtuous exercise had I set my wits a working, and all these my noble entertainments tended to no other end then this. For 
Inanis potentia, quae non reducitur ad actum.  it had been great folly in me, to have made such great preparation to no purpose. And unprofitable is that power, which is not reduced to act. I did but 
Proverb.  wait for a happy coniuncture, for every thing hath its 
o Cada cosa, tiene so quando.  quando, it's when it should be done. For we cannot execute all things, at all times. Besides there are some hours that are unlucky, some stars that are cross, and some planets that are malignant; whose contagious breath we are to fly from, and keep ourselves aloof from their infectious air, lest they chance to work our destruction.  
Thus then did I leisurely stay, looking for a fit occasion, passing those days that I remained there, in feasting and banqueting, and all other delightful pleasures; one while walking down to the Seaside, to take the fresh air; otherwhiles, going to recreate myself in their sweet and pleasant Gardens, which are very curiously kept; and now and then visiting the fair Dames of Genoa.  
My Kinsmen, would feign have made me to marry a Gentlewoman of 
Proverb.  very good quality, but of a small Dowry: but I durst not venture upon her, for the reasons before recited: and being besides to steal away from thence very shortly, our eggs 
p A●…s de dare con los hueuo●… en la ceniza.  must have been buried in the ashes; yet did I show myself very thankful unto them for these their good wishes towards me; neither accepting, nor refusing their offer, that I might go entertaining and leading them along till I had hit the mark that I aimed at. For, certain it is, that a man may then easiliest knock out his enemy's brains, when his adversary thinks there is no such treachery intended against him, and rests most secure. And here will we rest a while.   

CHAP. IX.  
Guzman de Alfarache robs his Uncle and Kinsmen in Genoa, and imbarkes himself in the Galleys that were to go for Spain.  
AN injury, never ought to be slighted; nor he sleep that does it. For Revenge comes up from beneath the earth, lurking in the secret corners thereof, 
Touching Revenge.  lying still in Ambush, watching but a fit time to 
Pro●…erbe.  sally forth; and to do thee a mischief. The 
a De donde no piens●…n, ●…uele saltar laliebre.  hare oftentimes starts out of that bush, where we did least dream of his sitting. Let not the rich man trust in his riches; nor the powerful man in the greatness of his power; nor the strong man, in his strength; nor the valiant man, in his courage: for Time altars the state of things, and turns them topsy-turvy. A little hair in a Pen, makes a great blot; and a little stone in the way, overturns a great Wain. And when the Offender thinks himself most secure; then the offended finds the better opportunity. I have told you here-tofore, that Revenge 
Revenge a womanish affection.  is base Cowardice, which springs from a weak womanish mind; to which kind of Creatures it is commonly compatible, and suits best with them. And albeit I have mentioned some, nay many unto you, that have made their names immortal, by scorning and contemning of it; yet here I shall not omit to tell you a story of a woman, wherein she well showed that she was a woman.  
A Gentlewoman, that was young, fair, rich, and of a noble lineage, being 
A Story how a wronged Gentlewoman revenged the injury that was done unto her.  married to a Gentleman, in every respect equal unto herself, chanced within a short time after to become a widow: who discreetly considering the dangers, whereinto by reason of her tender years, she was like to fall, and what speeches the world is wont to cast out, through a too much aptness that men have to whisper and murmur strange tales: for every man judgeth so of things as they represent themselves to his imagination; and as he is instructed by his private either fancy or affection; and taking notice of one only action of this or that man or woman, it is a common practice amongst them, to vary their opinions thereupon, and give their several censures. And yet not always do these tongues of theirs speak the truth; nor their judgements hit upon the right. She, holding it therefore very inconvenient to put these dear pledges of hers, upon the tips of men's tongues, and to occasion her honour to come in question; she resolved (as on the lesser evil) to marry. Two Gentlemen became Suitors unto her, both equal in their pretention; but far unequal in their deserving. The one, to his as much content, as his heart could desire, the match being in a manner concluded; but the other rejected and quite cast off, running a contrary fortune to his Corrival. And besides, that he was not of that rank and quality as the other, he had likewise some other defects, which might very well excuse a woman of far meaner endowments, to admit him to be her Companion. Now, the former being made sure to this Gentlewoman, and having past their promises each to other; so that nothing was wanting but their going to Church, and there to perform those Ceremonies, and Solemnities in that case required. The second, seeing his hopes dashed, and his suit at an end, and that there was no recovering of her; for that she was already betrothed to the other: a devilish toy took him suddenly in the head, by perverse and indirect means, to fetch such a leap, as should put himself forward, and cast the other behind.  
He resolved with himself to rise up one day very early in the morning, which he did accordingly; and having hid himself in a secret place, where no body could see him, there did he lie close, till such time as the servants of the house had opened this betrothed Gentlewoman's doors; and then presently taking his time, without being heard or perceived by any, he steps me in, and there stays me a pretty while behind the porch, till such time, as to his seeming, the people were stirring in the streets, and all the rest of the houses and shops were open. And then feigning to come out of the Gentlewoman's house, as if he had lain there all night, he stands strutting himself upon the midst of the threshold before the door, with his sword clapped under his arm, making show as if he were setting and ordering his Ruff, and buttoning up the buttons of his Doublet; so that as many as past by and observed the manner of his carriage, did verily believe, that he was espoused unto her, and had now enjoyed this Gentlewoman.  
When this plot of his fell out thus handsomely, that for his purpose he could not have wished it to have taken better effect: this business was whispered of at first by a few; but afterwards spread itself by degrees, and came to be diuulged all over the street, till at last the noise thereof entered into her own private chamber. This trick had he played twice over. And this business was so publicly talked of, and the Gentlewoman grown thereby so infamous, that it was the Tabletalk of all the Town: every man admiring this her inconstancy, and wondering at her indiscretion, that she should forgo her first bargain, being so advantageous for her own good, and make choice of this other, whom she had formerly cast off, and not without cause. But when this news was thus scattered every where abroad, and every man's mouth was full of the manner of it; as that he was seen to come out half naked, all undressed, and his points untrust: when this (I say) came to the knowledge of her otner Suitor, he did so risent the wrong she had done him, was so overcharged with sorrow, and so inflamed with choler, that albeit he loved her before so tenderly, that he desired nothing more than to make her his wife; now did he cruelly hate her; flying now as fast from her, as before he sought after her: and did not only abhor her: but all other women for her sake: it seeming unto him; That since she, whom he so much esteemed, and so dear loved, accounting her so good, so chaste, and so reserved a creature, that she should commit so foul a fact, there was little hope of faith to be found in the rest: and if there were a●…y left on whose loyalty men might trust and rely, they were so few, that he despaired of meeting with that happiness. He weighed their inconstancies, their delay, their passions, and with them the dangers, the troubles, and the cares wher●…into men put themselves. And passing from these to other discourses which he made with himself, inspired by God, they wrought so upon him, that he changed the love of the creature, into that of ●…he Creator, resolving with himself to turn Friar. Which deliberation, he putting in execution, suddenly entered into a religious Order. This came to the Gentlewoman's knowledge, and with it, the rep●…rt that ●…an other, as also the occasion of it, who, wh●…n she saw how things stood, and that it was not possible for her to repair her honour; nor to take away that foul blo●… which the other had laid upon i●…, she tooke-on like a mad woman: and how can you blame her, that she should thus lose herself in her passions; having lost at one blow, her honour, her Husband, her preferment, and her chiefest happiness? hopeless for ever, either by this, or any other the like means, to receive any future content, or to return to the former state wherein she stood, or to recover her reputation, which was thus shamefully lost.  
Whereupon she began to bethink herself, how she might salve this her innocency by some exemplary punishment. And having summed and cast up these reckonings with herself, she found her honesty so deeply engaged, that it was impossible by any other course but this, to clear it: and that such a treachery as this, could not be quitted, then with one on less treacherous, though more cruel. Whereupon, she did put on so infernal a fury, and went on in that violent rage, that she busied her thoughts in nothing else, save how she might bring this business about. God be merciful unto us, and deliver us from a wronged woman's revenge; for all of them are commonly such as she, who here presents herself unto us.  
The first thing that she resolved on, was to use her best endeavour to become a Nun; (and if she had stopped there, she had spun a good thread) and imparting a great part of her troubles to an especial friend of hers, that was of that Monastery, whither she had determined to go, after she had broken her mind unto her; she, with great secrecy, effected her desire. Then did she convey into the Monastery, all the chierest of her householdstuff, her jewels, and her moneys, annexing thereunto, by public conveyances and instruments drawn and signed for that use, the greatest part of her wealth. This being done, she stood daily expecting, that this Gentleman her enemy, should come and renew his suit, and treat with her, touching their marriage; which (according to her expectation) within some few days after, he did: alleging in his excuse, the great love that he bore unto her; for which cause, being desperate of his hopes, he used those subtle means, that he might obtain the end of his wished desires. But now, acknowledging his fault, and that he had been the cause of this error, that was voiced abroad, craving pardon for the same, he was willing to solder up this flaw, by tendering himself to be her husband. She, who desired nothing more, then that this his wicked intention should come to light, and that her honour thereby mig●…t recover its former splendour, made answer unto him; That seeing there was now no other means left unto her for the saluing of her credit, nor no better course to be taken for the recovery of her lost reputation; she did willingly accept of his offer. But told him withal, that she had made a vow, the performance whereof would be accomplished within these two months, or little more, and until that time were expired, she could not give him that satisfaction which he desired. But, if he would be pleased to have the patience to stay till then, he should obtain his suit. But, if he were so eagerly bend upon the business, that impatient of so long an intermission of time, he longed to come sooner to this his desired end, she would not stop him in this his journey; but would have the business to be carried with all possible secrecy, till the term of the aforesaid two months should be fully accomplished; and then afterwards she did not care (leaving that to his discretion) how soon this their marriage were manifested to the world.  
The Gentleman accepted of the condition, holding himself (therein) the happiest man in the world. And having provided all that was fitting and necessary for a business of this nature, they were secretly contracted together, by virtue whereof, they were espoused each to other. They continued together on these terms some few days, he entertaining himself with that assured hope which he had of his absolute enjoying of her, and she being no less contented than he, with the wished end that she had to work her revenge.  
One night, after they had supped, her husband went to bed, she enters into the chamber, and setting herself down near unto the bedside, feigning to be busying her fingers about some trifling work or other, (as women are never without a thousand such idle toys) she waited by him, till he was fall'n asleep, and when she saw that the soundness of his first sleep had seized forcibly upon him, she softly puts her hand into the sleeve of her gown, and taking out a keen cutting knife, as sharp as any raysour, to that first sleep of his, she added the last minute of his life; for in an instant she had cut his throat, and left him dead in the bed, wallowing in his own blood. Afterwards, telling the people of the house, that her husband had had a very bad night of it, and that none should go in for fear of waking him, till he himself were willing to call to them, or that herself should return from Mass; she shut the door after her, and hied her as fast as she could, to the Monastery, where she presently received the habit and was made a Nun, after that she had thus washed away her infainy, with his blood, who had bespotted it, giving a notorious token of her honesty, and a terrible demonstration of her cruelty.  
I will likewise tell you (because it suiteth well to this purpose) that which 
A tale of Fuctillos' the soul.  Fuctilloes said; a fool that went up and down Alcala de Henares; one whom I afterwards very well knew. This fool, a dog had bit by the leg, which hurt, though he was afterwards well healed of it, yet his heart was not at quiet: for he had still a spite to that dog. Whom he finding one day by chance lying all along before his door, sleeping in the Sun, he went to a certain place near unto the Church of Santa Maria, and taking up a great stone, as much as he could lift with both his hands, he came softly stealing towards the dog, without being perceived by him, and lifting it up as high as ever he could each, let it fall just upon the head of him. The poor Cur, having received this cruel blow, being in extreme torment, and near unto his death, began to make a most pitiful howling, and fell (his last pangs being upon him) a bounding in the air. Fuctillos' the fool, seeing in what case he was, said unto him; Do you hear brother, do you hear? 
b Proverb.  Quien enemigos tiene, no duerma: He does ill to sleep that has an enemy. I remember I told you once before; That ill, is always ill; But of all ills, I hold revenge to be the worst: For a 
Revenge, of all ills the worst.  revengeful heart knows not how to be merciful. And he that shall not show mercy, let him not look for mercy, neither from God, nor man. For every man shall be meted with the same measure that he meeteth unto others. And in the 
Proverb.  same balance that thou weighest thy neighbour, in the same shalt thou be 
Por lafoy medido, que midiere, ha de ser medido. Trust not a reconciled enemy.  weighed thyself. This, thou canst not deny, but I must have thee also to confess, That they are in an error, who knowing men's evil inclination, will yet be so simple, as to trust them; especially those, whom we have formerly injured; for few or none of your reconciled friend, but prove rotten at the heart; and how fair a show soever they make, not one of them of a thousand that is sound and good. He doth offer a pleasing sacrifice unto God, who for God's sake only, remitteth the wrongs that he hath received. Few miracles have we seen in this case; Only I was an eyewitness of one myself in Florence, which happened without the walls of the City, in the Church of San Miniato, that stands within the Castle. Which because it is but a short one, and worthy your memory, I will briefly relate it unto you. A Gentleman of Florence, called Captain Giovanni 
A story of a miracle, wrought in San in ato, and upon what occasion.  Gualberto, the son of a noble Knight, that was a Titulado, going to Florence with his Company, well armed, & on horseback, he met upon the way with a mortal enemy of his, who had killed his brother; who seeing the danger wherein he was, giving himself for a lost man, (for that he knew not how to escape him) humbled himself at his feet, and crossing his breast with his arms, besought his pardon, and that for jesus Christ's sake, that was crucified, he would be pleased to spare him his life. Giovanni Gualberto, had these words in that veneration, that pricked with a charitable compunction, taking pity of him, he willingly pardoned this his enemy. And taking him along with him, he made him to go back again with him to Florence, and brought him to San Miniatos Church, to offer thanks unto God. And kneeling down before a Crucifex, which was a very lively piece, Giovanni Gualberto, kneeling also on his knees, desired of God, That he would so forgive him his trespasses, as he did freely forgive this his enemy that had trespassed against him, in killing his brother. Which words were no sooner uttered by him, but Christ bowed his head unto him, Giovanni Gualberto, humbly acknowledging this great grace and favour there shown unto him in the presence of all those that were there, presently entered into a religious Order, in which holy profession, he continued to his dying day. This image of Christ stands to this day, with his head bowing itself down, even in the self same manner as it stood then: and is there reverenced as a great relic, not only by the Florentines, but all other Catholics.  
And now (laying Miracles aside) let me truly tell you, That when a man does pardon his enemy, but takes not this for his ground, it leaves some embers 
Of revenge.  behind, some quick coals covered over with a few ashes, which being stirred never so little, breaks forth again, inflaming the soul, and soliciting it to revenge. And howbeit outwardly this fire seem to be dead; yet God keep us from this still water; for many a time and oft, this fire is only sprinkled over with a little Court-holy-water, which is as good as nothing; or slightly covered over with the ashes of a false forgiveness. But if you shall but offer to blow it with Occasions bellowes, though never so little, it soon discovers itself, the coals kindle by and by, and the flames of their hatred break forth afresh, and to as deep a revenge, as if there had never been any atonement between them. And this I am able to justify unto you, as having made experience thereof myself: For I was ever so mightily pricked on to revenge, as if (like a beast) the spurs thereof lay still gagging at my sides. And well may I say beast, for he is no less, that is thus beastly-minded. I had still before mine eyes, that dis-jointing and rattling of my bones, when like the winnowing of wheat in a fan, they tossed me up on high, and no sooner downe, but hoist me up again, every bone of me seeming to jingle like so many bells. What with this, and that delight and pleasure that they took in the recounting of the jest, and the evil intent wherewithal they did it, besides their telling of me, that nothing did so much grieve them, as that they had not used me worse, I could not choose but bear it in mind, and say to myself; O ye misbegotten rascals, ye villains, ye enemies to goodness, ye dogs: I came to your gates, being poor and needy, and what a fine refreshing did ye give me, that I might the better go forward on my journey! This their course usage, had stirred up such store of choler in me, that I did now desire nothing more, then to cry quittance with all those that had a hand in this conspiracy. And not so much to be revenged of them, as that old dog-bolt, who was the principal plotter, and actor, both of it, and my hurt.  
The time passed on, and with it I gained more friends, wedging them closer and closer daily unto me, I knowing them, and they me. The proposed marriage was hotly pursued by them, they all very earn●…stly desiring to have me naturalised amongst them. I visited them, and they me: my friends resorted to my lodging, and I to theirs. Now, as if I had been a towne-borne child, I had free access in all parts of the City, I went and played amongst them at their Ordinaries, and public houses of gaming; and they likewise would come and meet at my lodging; sometimes losing, and sometimes getting, till one night amongst the rest, the Cards fell out so luckily, and showed themselves so favourable unto me, that I carried home with me at one clap above seven thousand Royals: wherewith my Gentlemen were so nettled, that the 
Proverb.  next night after, they were very desirous to play greater game. I misliked not the motion; for the time of my reckoning was now near at hand, if not past; my nine 
d You est●… fuera de cuenta●… ò, en las nueve ●…es.  months, (as the common saying is) that I had gone with child, looking to be brought a-bed of this birth, begotten of mine own brain, were now fully expired; and every moment I expected a happy hour. For Captain Favelo had already told me, that the Galleys were now ready, and that he was fully persuaded, they would very sho●…tly go for Spain. This made me bestir my stumps, and to get all things ready to go aboard, conce●…uing they were now 
e The Spanish word is Lev●… termino nautico, y vale la partid●…, y arrancada que hazen las gale as del puerto, à levando.  hoisting sail, fitting their oars, and ready to launch, being resolved, whither-soever they went, to go along with them; yet I durst not make it known, till going out of the haven, they were to put forth to Sea. I accepted that night their challenge, and continued play with them, but to no other end in the world, b●…t to entertain the time, that I might afterwards be the better provided, to give them a wipe for a farewell, and to tickle them with the latter arrow, or (as they use to do in Portugal) darles de pancada.  
That night I lost, but no more than I was willing; for now I did employ all my skill, to bring my purpose to pass. I did float up and down with a side wind, and got to windward of them, still bestowing barato (howsoever the world went) upon my old friend the Captain; because I knew he was to return it back again in the end, to my greater aduantag●…. Some few days after, I perceived my Captain grew somewhat sad; I ask him what might be the cause of this his melancholy, and that he was not so merry, as he was wont to be: He told me, it was only the sorrow, that he had conceived, that he and I, ere long must part; for that some ten days hence the Galleys were without fail to go away, by express order given for their departure.  
His words were pearls; and this language of his, as a voice from heaven, as if I had heard it once more say unto me; Open this C●…binet, unlock that chest, and pull out that other Cat by the ears, and carry away with thee, what thou list. So that now, I thought this business was in a manner quite ended. And so taking my Captain aside, when I saw that he and I were all alone, I said unto him; Sir, you have showed yourself such a friend unto me, and I do so highly esteem of your love and friendship, that I know not how either to indear●…, or require it. There is offe●…ed now unto me by occasion of this your voyage, an absolute remedy to all my desires, and a fit opportunity to effect, what I have long since intended; and without your helping hand, wherein it chiefly consist●…, I utterly despair of obtaining my purpose. And if I have forborn till now to give you an account thereof (which I ought to have done, in regard of that true affection, and faithful friendship, that is between us) it was because I was loath, out of my love unto you, to cause any disquietness in you, which the acquainting you therewith, must needs bring with it. I would have you therefore to understand, that I came not hither, either out of any desire to see this City, nor for that kind entertainments sake, or any other courte●…e, that I have here received; but only for to disoblige myself, and to revenge a certain wrong, which my father being an elderly man, received at the hands of a young Spaniard, that resideth herein this City: who was forced thereupon to forsake his Country, as being ashamed of the affront that was done him. And not being able (in regard he was an old man) to right himself as he should, he held it his best course, to lessen it by his long absence; the grief whereof continued with him to his dying day. And he that had no respect unto those re●…erend hairs of my aged father, cannot justly complain of me, if being his son, I lose all respect towards him in the working of my revenge. And because it may so fall out, that after I have satisfied my desire, that his friends, either by the gr●… favour they shall find in this place, or by the strength of their purse, which is no less prevalent, shall go about to do me any injury, that you afford me your b●…st ●…nce, by which good furtherance only of yours, w●…thout any peril to your own person, you may by your secrecy secure me, and bring me fairly off. Which friendly office sha●…l bind me so fast unto you, that (during life) I shall acknowledge myself to be your slave. For a son hath no more honour, than what he inherits from his father: And if my father had none to leave me, this traitorous enemy of his, having taken it from him, I likewise live without it, and must recover it myself by these hands of mine, and by mine own proper industry. Which if my kinsmen have not sought to repair, it was, for that they were not either willing to hazard themselves, or their fortunes; or for that after my father's absence, all was buried, and not so much as a word spoken thereof, whereby the remembrance of the wrong might have been revived. Holding it the lesser inconvenience of the two, to let it sleep thus quietly as it did, then by awaking it, to give occasion to the people to publish this his shame the more.  
Favelo all this while harkened very attentively to every word that I said, and would that I should have remitted this business unto him, to the end that he might make himself a party in this revenge, as became a true friend; not doubting but that he should give me good satisfaction therein, and perform it as well as I myself could wish. And albeit he was very earnest with me, using many violent entreaties, that he might take this burden wholly upon him, yet notwithstanding could he not bring me to give way unto it; Telling him, that it was neither just, nor fitting; That the injury being mine, the revenge should be another's. And that only for this end, I was come out of my native country of Spain, with a resolution never to return thither again, till that I myself had given my enemy his payment, and in that coin, that he should know from whom, and wherefore he received it. Adding withal, that he should do me a great deal of wrong, to think that I wanted either strength or courage to put myself upon such a business as this is, considering how nearly it concerns me, and how it toucheth my soul to the very quick. When he heard me say so (seeing me thus peremptorily bend) he grew so quiet, that he would press that point no farther; and though he made no reply thereunto, yet he told me; If I have any thing of worth in me, if I can do any thing, if my whole estate, life, and honour, may import your service, I lay them down at your feet, they are wholly yours to be disposed of. And if, for fear of the worst (because a man knows not what may happen in such a case) you will (for to make surer work) that I and my soldiers shall assist you, or (at least) give us leave to stand at a gaze, to see how the world goes with you, command us so fa●…re forth as you please; your will shall be ours; and we will not be wanting to the uttermost of our power, to afford you our best aid, and to give you all the content we can. And I will promise you upon mine honest word, and therefore put that to my account, that if you once but set your foot within the Galley, all Italy (would they never so fain) shall not be able to fetch you thence, and would rather run all dangers myself, though never so great, then that you should suffer the least.  
Noble Captain (said I) I believe you both in this, and the rest, and am very confident that you profess no more, than what your true heart unto me, doth sincerely suggest. But I think, there needeth not so much water to drive this mill. First, because my enemy rests secure, and suspects not the revenge that I shall take of him: And secondly, for that myself and Sayavedra, shall be able well enough to go through with that which I pretend. Which being accomplished, my desire is, the business may be so carried, that when his friends would right themselves upon me, and should haply chance to pursue me, or make some diligent search after me, they might by your favour, miss of their purp●…se, and come too late to lay hold upon me. That which presses, and imports me most, and which I require at your hands, is; That I may know the set day, when the Galleys are to depart, and when you mean to weigh auchor, that I may not lose either time, or occasion. He promised me, I should: And so we were agreed in the end, that by little and little, and that very secretly, I should by Sayavedra convey my trunks, and my clothes aboard the Galley, to the end that I might not defer the doing thereof to the very last push, and have nothing else to busy myself about, but only my embarking.  
I cannot tell you, how much Favelo joyed, nor express unto you the great content he took, when he knew that he should have me along with him; whereupon, he made very good provision of diverse delicacies to entertain me withal, as if I had been Admiral of the Galleys. I called my servant unto me, and told him, what had passed betwixt me and Captain Favelo, and that it was 
Proverb.  now time to 
f A●…remangar los braços hasta los codos. When a man set●… himself roundly about a piece of business.  tuck up our sleeves to our elbows, because we had much to knead, and a great deal of dough to mould, to make tarts: and therefore we must roundly set ourselves to work. I had scarce ended my discourse with him, but that he was ready for joy to leap out of his skin, he was all a gogg with content, the tinder had now taken fire, the Deer was roused, and he was set so hot on following the game, that there was no holding of him back. Then presently did we sit in council concerning the manner of the revenge, and having well advised with myself, I said thus unto him: The best, the profitablest, and the least dangerous to ourselves, will consist in matter of money. This is that which I desire (said Sayavedra) this chase will be better than fifteen, if we look well to our play. Besides, the wounds that are given us on the body, are quickly cured; but those that light upon our purse, are long a healing, and pain us a great while after, if not all the days of our life.  
Go to then (said I) that we may fall the more handsomely to work, the first 
Guzman goes about his, lot that he had laid for the c●…ning of his kinsmen.  thing that is to be done, is to buy four trunks, two of which thou shalt put in that part of the Galley, which Favelo shall appoint for them. And the other two, thou shalt fill with stones, and letting no man know what there is in them, thou shalt cunningly and un-espyde, secretly convey to my lodging, and put them in my chamber. These stones shalt thou wrap up close in some old rags, that where-soever they be, or whither-soever they shall be carried, and tumbled to and fro, they may not rattle, nor make any noise; charging him to have a great care, that he leave not any one empty place, but with some trash or other cram them as close as he can for his life. As also to see, that they be not heavier, than he, in his discretion, shall think it fitting, making each of them to weigh some six arrobas a piece, which will come to about a hundred and a half good weight. I also acquainted him with every particular thing, that he was to do, leaving him well informed with those instructions that I had given him.  
When these wheels were thus set a going, I got me to Don Beltran's house, that good old man, my Uncle, and being in conversation with him, I began to fall into talk, how fearful I was to go abroad a-nights, in regard of the trunks that I had in my lodging, two of them especially being worth the looking to, for that they were full of plate, jewels of good value, and good store of crowns, and (to say the truth) all the little wealth that I had. This is your own fault, Cousin, said he unto me; and if any harm come unto you, blame no body but yourself. For my house might very well (had it pleased you to accept of it) have excused both your lodging, and your fear. For albeit, that where you are be the best in all this Town; yet have you not any Inn, (though you shall travail all the world over) where you shall find that goodness and that honesty, as to keep any thing there in safety. You (Cousin) are but a young man, and know not the world as I do; I am an old Lad, and have 
What a Traveller must do, when he comes to his Inn.  a great deal of experience of these things, and therefore let me advise you, that you never trust your trunks, but with a sure and strong lock; and when you are journeying upon the way, carry along with you in your pocket, or your port-manteau, some good padlock, to fasten to the staple of the chamber door, where you lodge. For either your Host, or his wife, or his children, or his servants, have two or three keys to all the chambers, and you shall no sooner turn your back, but in the twinkling of an eye, you shall lose all that you left there within, and hardly recover it again. And therefore be sure, to make all sure. For if you shall call mine Host, or any of his in question, and seek to recover your own by Law, they will answer to your sure, and after a great deal of cost and trouble, they will allege for themselves, that either you carried it away yourself, or that you brought no such thing thither, or at least, that they knew of no such thing, because you had not, when you came in, consigned it unto them, and committed it to their charge; so that what was thine 
Proverb.  before, they will by this means make it their own. Into an Inn, 
g En la posada, ●…o ay cosa posada.  bring nothing in; for it is no sooner in, then lost, unless you look narrowly unto it. But being a young Gallant, as you are, though it please you not, out of your jovial disposition, and the love to good company, to take this for your house, which is most freely yours, yet could I wish you to fetch away your trunks from thence, and to bring them hither, and not to leave any more plate, or silver there, then what shall serve for your necessary use. For here in my Eseritorio, all shall be kept safe for you, so that you shall not need to be afraid thereof, as long as it remains here in my house. I thanked him as much, as if my trunks had been worth a Million, and so I think he did conceive as much, or little less. As well in regard that he had seen some of my vessels of silver, as likewise my chain, my gold, and other things, that I had brought thither with me: As also, for that I seemed to be so desirous to have them secured in some place of safety.  
From this talk, we fell into discourse touching my marriage: He telling me, 
Of marriage.  that I was now of fit years for a wife, and that the longer I stayed without, if I had a purpose to settle myself and my estate, I did but lose so much time; for that your elder marriages, were but a leaving of a man's children to be fatherless, and to become poor miserable Orphans. And therefore, if I were no●… minded to be a Churchman, and to admit myself into some one religious Order or other, it were better for me to marry out of hand, as well in respect of mine own comfort, as the husbanding of my estate. For servants, th●…ugh they be never so faithful, do not for the most part want conduit-pipes, to convey away thy wealth, scattering it abro●…d ●…ike water, upon women, gaming, feast●…ng, ●…xcesse in apparel, and diverse other things, who seeing themselves 〈◊〉, and put to their shifts, to maintain these their idle expenses, rob th●…ir Masters of all that they have, and afterwards fly the Country. He laid before me the manifold inconveniences of a single life, and on the n●…ke of that, he comes upon me, making a large relation unto me of the good parts of this Gentlewoman, whom he wished me unto. Who (as I understood) was his kinswoman by the mother-side, and more nobly, then richly descended. But that defect was supplied by her beauty. I should have had likewise with her, but Ho-there, (as I afterwards came to discover the mystery) a young daughter, which she had by a mischance, begotten on her by a young Citizen of Genoa, who had promised her marriage, but afterwards (cozening the poor wen●…h) married with another. He told me besides, that she had a mother, that was a very wealthy woman, and one that would be a great stay and help unto me, especially in the government of my house, and the bringing up of those children, that God should bless me withal. And that I should find her no less loving unto me, then if she were mine own natural mother. I did set a good face on the matter, and seemed to like wondrous well of all that which he had said unto me; Telling him, that whatsoever came from him, could not but be good; and that his counsel should be a guide to my actions, without farther consultation from myself, as conveniency should ●…ffer itself. But that I might not lose a certain Benefice, that wa●… bestowed upon me, for the making sure of that, I must necessarily resign it to a Cozen-Germane of mine, my mothers-sisters-sonne, who lives in Sevill. I threw out this bait unto him, to nibble upon, wherewith I entertained him for that time, he seeming well contented with my fair answer.  
Whilst we were earnestly talking of this business, in comes Sayavedra unto me, and rounding me in the ear, made show as if he had delivered me a very long message. I then (seeing my time, speaking out aloud) said unto him; And what answer did you make him? And he answering me in the same key, replied; What answer would you have me make him Sir, but that it should be done. Marry, beshrew your fingers for it, (said I) you did not well, in saying so. Dost not thou know, that I am not now in Rome, nor Sevill; dost thou not see how rash and inconsiderate thou hast been, in promising that for me, which I cannot perform? Go, carry him the great chain, give it him, and tell him, that this is all that I have, and that I can do no more than I can do: Excuse me unto him, and signify withal, that I have strained myself as far for him, as my ability can reach. You say well Sir (replied Sayavedra) but how a God's name, shall I be able to lug along by my side such a huge chain as this, that weighs seven hundred crowns in good gold? I think I had need hire a porter to help me. I presently made answer; No more words; Do as I bid you. Get you to some Goldsmith's shop or other, and take the chain along with you, and make choice of some jewel there, or what you shall think fit will serve the turn, and leave the chain there, or some other pawn, which shall be worth more than what you have of him, and pay him interest for the lone of it: and this, I take it, will be the better course. And if the pawn fall out too short, make it out in Crowns unto him. So shalt thou disengage thyself of the folly, whereinto thou hast run: For I know no other remedy but this.  
My Uncle, who listened to all that I had said; What pawns (said he) will you give him, or for what? To whom I made answer; Sir, he that hath foolish servants, must whether he will or no incur many inconveniences, falling still into a hundred thousand errors, and as many mischiefs, and sleepe-breaking cares. There is a Gentlewoman here of Castille, that is treating a marriage with a Gentleman of her own Country, they are both well known unto me, and of my especial acquaintance, and to whom I owe some beholdingness. They have requested me, that I would furnish them with apparel and jewels for their wedding; which is now so near at hand, that I cannot give them that satisfaction, that I would. You see Sir, what tree they trust unto, and what shifts I am driven to, to comply with them. And the grief of it is, that this blockhead my man, had not the wit to excuse me, being he knew, how hardly I could do them this kindness. And I am half jealous, that he out of his own kind heart invited them thereunto, and without making me privy unto it, hath promised them my best furtherance. For it cannot sink into my head, that a woman of judgement, should of herself request such a courtesy as this. And if it be his own act, why should not he make it good without me? But Sirrah (said I to my man) seeing it is as it is, and it cannot now be otherwise, go wait upon her, and do as she shall direct you.  
The old man, seeing me so much moved, and that I seemed to be much offended with my man, for his indiscretion, said unto me; Cousin, let not this trouble you, it is not a thing worth the speaking of, and therefore let it not disquiet you: you are come into a place, where you cannot want friends for so small a matter as this. I know that very well Sir, (said I) and that my noble kinsmen here, will do me any friendly office that lies in their power, and that as long as they have it, I cannot lack. But because amongst all our kindred, I know not any of those that are married, that can furnish me with such things as she requireth for this solemnity, I dare not entreat them in a matter so troublesome as this cannot choose but be unto them. And yet on the other side, being so earnestly requested to supply this Gentlewoman's occasions, the very demanding of such a courtesy, is a kind of commanding of it, and obligeth me (as I am a Gentleman) to make the best shift I can for her, and to try all my friends, rather than fail her now at her need. And yet I know well enough, that jewels are not every where to be met withal, which in public assemblies, and such sole●…ne acts, as these are, can show their faces without blushing. Cousin (said he) no more, it is enough; break not your sleep for this, nor take you any farther care; For I, for my part, and other your kinsmen, on theirs, will try amongst us, what we can do, and doubt not but we shall fit her in that reasonable and convenient manner, as shall serve her turn, and salve your credit. Nay (Cousin) I will not have you sit out for a little, if I can help it. And as for your Trunks, you may send them hither when you please. I kissed his hands for this his double kindness, returning him both for the one and the other, such condign thanks, as either my wit could invent, or my words express, acknowledging the great and extraordinary favour that herein he should do me: and so taking my leave of him, as soon as ever I came home to my lodging, I took order, that the Trunks, (each of them having three keys a piece, being well and surely locked, and strongly plated with iron,) should out of hand be carried thither without any more ado.  
My Uncle, when he saw Sayavadra enter his house, and the Porters at the heels of him, so heavy laden, that they were scarce able to creep along with them, having well considered the strength of the locks and bars about them, and the distrust that I had of mine Host, together with the weight and heft of them, he did certainly assure himself, t●…at they were full of treasure. Whereupon he asked Sayavedra what was within those Trunks, that th●…y weighed so heavy? Whereunto he answered; Sir, though my master hath many things in them of great value, yet that which is worth more than all the rest, is a parcel of stones, which he hath gathered together from all parts of Italy, the choicest he could light upon, wheresoever he came, but for whom they are, or whither he will carry them, I know not. The old man arched up his eyebrows, and wiped his eyes, wondering to see such great store of wealth, and putting them with his own hands in safe custody, under the keeping (as they say) of 
Proverb. 〈◊〉 de siete slaves: 〈◊〉 à muy buen cobro.  seven keys, the Trunks remained with him, and Sayavedra returned home. And there (like Pigeons, when they court and woe one another, and have done billing, and murmured our their amorous passions) we two loving companions fell likewise a crookling, and gathering straw, for to build our nest. We spent all that night in devising new plots, and in plotting new devices, how we might fetch off another kinsman of mine, that was young, rich, and of great credit amongst them, resolving to go home to his house, and there to pitch another net for him, to the end that whilst others should complain of the harm I had done them, he should not stand by and laugh, whilst others wept, and applaud his wit, that he escaped my fingers. And therefore I was minded to invest him likewise with this new order of a second St. jago. And so I did: For the Sun was scarce up, and got out of his bed, when Sayavedra taking 
Another plot of Guzman's.  with him the two chains, in those two boxes that were so like one another, gilded equally on every side, neatly closed with your Dutch cla●…pes, with alike vises, or springs, that would shut of themselves, bearing them closely under his cloak, home we came unto him; where we found him newly up, & making himself ready. But not thinking that a fit time, I was willing to have deferred my seeing of him, ti●…l after dinner. But when it was told him that I was there, he took it ill, and seemed some what ashamed withal, accusing me of strangeness, that I would be so dainty with him, as to make scruple of coming up unto him, as soon as I came within the house. I told him I did not do it out of any niceness, but that I was loath to disquiet him, for that I understood he was taking his rest. With these, and the like compliments, we passed the time a while, questioning each other of our healths, and discoursing of some things (whilst he was dressing and fitting his clothes) about the City, at last he brought me down into a closet, or pretty little countinghouse, that he had beneath stairs, and sitting down, after a short pausing, he demanded of me, what wind had blown me thither so early? Sir (said I) none, save only that I may give a good morrow to the day, to the end, that it may thrive the better with me: For the night hath not been my friend.  
The business Sir, that I come unto you about, is to entreat you, that if you have any servant of yours in the house, that is an honest discreet fellow, that you would be pleased to call him hither. Which I had no sooner said, but he presently rings me a bell, the sound whereof was no sooner heard, but two or three came hastily running in. And having beckoned to one amongst the rest, to come unto him; he said unto him; here is my servant Steffanello, who shall do whatsoever you shall be pleased to command him. That then (quoth I) which I shall entreat at his hands, is, That he will take the pains, to go along with my servant Sayavedra to some Goldsmith, to take the aloy, weight, and value of a chain that I have here. Sayavedra thereupon presently delivered me the little box, wherein was that which I had caused to be made of pure gold; and taking it out, I snewed it unto him; my kinsman was much pleased with the sight thereof, and was never weary with locking upon it, so handsome a one it was, so beautiful, so massy, and of that extraordinary curious workmanship. Insomuch, that it seemed unto him, that he had never seen the like; for it was all of dainty delicate fine links, smoothly polished, without any stones, or inammelling at all. When he had taken his fill in viewing of it, I returned it back again to my servant, and they two went together to dispatch this business, whilst we in the mean while continued talking sometimes of one thing, sometimes another, the better to pass the time. A little while after, they both came back again, bringing with them a little scroll of paper, with the Goldsmith's hand to it, wherein it was there set down, That the chain of gold, was in fineness two and twenty Carats, and that it was (according to its weight) worth six hundred and three and fifty Spanish Crowns, and somewhat more. Then I called to Sayavedra, and willed him to give it me, who delivered me the counterfeit one, first opening the box wherein it lay, where once more taking it forth, we fell afresh to looking upon it. And putting it anon after into its box, which I still kept open, I said unto him; Sir, that which I am farther to entreat at your hand, is that which followeth; Some few nights since, I have been bitten at play by some Gentlemen of this City, but they themselves worse; for that I have gotten of them a matter of five thousand Royals: they have challenged me to play greater game, and I am very willing to follow my good fortune, while it lasts, and to make trial of my good luck; and it may be, that I may venture little, and get much. But because all kind of gaming doth wholly in a manner consist in the handsome carriage of the business, and that we that are gamesters, may as well lose as win, I would not find myself so limited and stinted in play, that if I should chance to lose, and run out of my moneys, that I should not be able to come again upon them with fresh supplies, to recover what I lost, and (if luck serve) to get upon them. And albeit (I thank God) I lack no money, having at home in my Uncle's house some five thousand Crowns, yet I may not meddle with them, for as soon as certain Letters shall come hither to my hands, which I daily expect from Sevill, I cannot, no not for an hour, prolong either their payment, or mine own departure to Rome, for the settling of a good Benefice either upon myself, or a Cozen-germane of mine, as it shall stand best with my Uncle's liking, submitting myself to his direction, who may dispose of me as he in his discretion shall think fit; so that it is neither just nor convenient, that I should once break, or offer but to touch that sum, lest I might then want it, when I had most occasion to use it; which I may so much the rather forbear to do, because (if need be) I can make use of my jewels, and my Plate, which like a dead commodity lie by me, and are good for nothing, but to lay to pawn at a dead lift; and yet for all this, unless some urgent occasion, or extreme want, should force me thereunto, I should be very loath to part with them, much less to put them away to loss, as many too often do. You have here this chain, you have seen and viewed it, and you know what it is worth, all that I shall now desire of you, is that with all secrecy (for I would not willingly incur the censure of an unthrift, nor if men should talk of it, be forced to give them an account of such trifling toys as these) you would be pleased to furnish me with six hundred Crowns upon this Chain, paying interest for that short term that I shall use them; assuring yourself, that whether I win or lose, you shall not fail to be paid at your due time. Wherein, if I should chance to fail you, you may pay yourself out of the chain, for which end I shall leave it with you, that howsoever the world go, you may be a gainer, though I a loser. I likewise told him, how upon the like occasion I had once pawned a certain piece of new Plate, richly gilded, but he that had it of me, had used it in that ill manner, that when he returned it unto me, it was not fit to be served in at any honest man's board, so that I was forced to sell it, having not one penny allowed me for the fashion. And therefore for the avoiding of such another loss, I entreated him to do me the favour, that the chain might remain still in his own hands, without being posted over from one to another.  
He made show that he did not take it half well at my hands, that for so small a courtesy as this, I should offer him a pawn. But I clapping down the cover of the box, shut it suddenly too, and so consigned it over unto him, forcing it into his hand; vowing and protesting, that I would by no means receive this kindness from him, if he refused to accept of the chain. For, besides that I did not use to wear it oft, because it was too massy and heavy for me, he should do me a courtesy to keep it for me; for as long as it was with him, I was sure it would be both safe and well used. Adding further withal, That being we are all mortal, and that many things might occur unto me, being a stranger, it was fit and convenient, that he should therein satisfy my desire. Upon these words, and the earnest instance that I made with him, he accepted of it in the end, and promised me, that the first thing that he would do, should (as soon as he put his foot out of doors) be his procuring of these monies for me: wherein he was as good as his word. For the very same day, whilst I was sitting at dinner, in comes Steffanello with the six hundred Crowns. I thanked him for his pains, and entreated him to recommend my service to his master; he stayed not with me scarce a Paternoster while, & was but even new gone, but presently in comes his master, and makes directly towards my lodging. Which sudden approach of his did so trouble me, that I had not one drop of blood in all my whole body, nor could the best Barber of them all, have found any such thing in my veins. Here I lost my stirrups, and knew not what to do. For having but then, even newly then received the Crowns, and the master following so close at the servant's heels, I did undoubtedly believe, that they had opened the box, and had found out the false chain, and that he had made this haste, to hinder his man from delivering the money unto me. But this doubt was soon resolved, and I was quickly rid of this fear, for he came towards me with a cheerful countenance, making many offers of his love and service unto me, and that if I had occasion to use him in any thing else, I would be pleased to command him; for whatsoever he had, it was wholly at my devotion: And that those moneys he had borrowed of a friend of his upon interest, but that it would come to a matter of nothing in the reckoning. Then said I to myself, (considering more the future, than the time present) I believe this nothing will be something to you in the end; and how light you make of it, will light heavilier upon you; than you are aware. But burying my thoughts within my own bosom, I told him, that was not much material, for the pawn was worth more than the use of the money could come to.  
But he had not long stayed a talking with me, when lo, whilst he was there with me, my Gentlemen gamesters enter the room, and calling to Sayavedra for cards, there was a well-ordered battle begun between us. My kinsman perceiving that we meant to fight it out, and to set close to it, took his leave, and went his way. I was so safely entrenched in my moneys, having Sayavedra then in my favour (for being upon our departure, it was no time now to stand with our hands under our girdle, nor to gather flowers, but to reap the fruits of our labours, and to hoist sail, and away) I sallied safely out upon them, beating them so shamefully, that I put them to flight, leaving behind as a prey unto me above fifteen thousand Royals in good gold. I gave barato to those that were present, and to the Captain who came thither anon after this field was fought, I closely clapped fifty Crowns in his fist, which was all one, as if with them I had bought me a slave, and purchased me such a servant as should stick to me upon all occasions.  
This quarrel being ended, and the Gamesters gone, my Captain took me aside, and we two being all alone, he advised me, that on Sunday night following, being some four days hence, the Galleys were to depart. Whereupon, seeing myself thus straitened by time, I began to strike up my drum, to muster ●…y forces together, and sending abroad my tickets, this way, and that way, first to one party, and then to another, advertising my friends, that the wedding was to be solemnised the Monday following, and that they would be pleased to make me beholding unto them for their promised favour. The Ants do not come so laden with corn in August, which they gather abroad in the fields, and bring home into their granaries, as they came tumbling into my lodging with jewels, every one striving, who should send me the most, and the best. Which in a word, were so many, and so rich, that I was even almost ashamed to receive them. But I set a good face on the matter, because me thought they were not dear. My Uncle sent me in a C●…llar to grace the Bride's shoulders, and a girdle suitable unto it, and a feather to adorn her head-dressing, which being all of gold, and set thick with pearls, and precious stones, the three pieces were valued at more than three thousand Crowns. The rest did furnish me with rich brooches, buttons, bodkins, bracelets, pendents, ●…are-rings, tablets, carcanets, veils, coifs, and rings, all very curious, rich, and of great value. All which things, as fast as they came in, the Captain unwitting thereof, I clapped up closely within my trunks, which stood in a by-corner out of sight. The next three days that were left me, I spent in visiting my kindred, thanking them for the undeserved grace and favour they had done me.  
When Sunday was come, knowing that the Galleys were to weigh anchor a Monday morning betimes, and to put forth to Sea, I said to mine Host: Mine Host, I shall be abroad this night at play, at a friends house, where some Gentlemen have appointed to meet, and if peradventure it shall be somewhat late before we give over play, I think I shall not only sup, but lie there too, if we chance to break off before it be day. And therefore (good mine Host) have a care to the chamber, till we return, though it may be, I shall send Sayavedra home unto you. And so having the night to friend, I went out of my Inn, leaving mine Host two trunks, to pay for my diet, and my lodging, during the time I stayed in Genoa. True it is, that by reason of the great haste we had to be gone, I left them both full, but of fine little pebbles that I had caused to be fetched from the Seaside; being in show, not much unlike to your craggy Crystal of the mountain, which did weigh some twenty pound weight a piece.  
All things being done and dispatched as I would have it, I went aboard the Galley, and cabbined with my friend Captain Favelo. I want words to express unto you, the great entertainment, the Captain (that night I came out of Genoa) made me, the costly supper, that he had provided for me, and what a good bed I lay in. He demanded of me, how I had sped in my business. I told him, to mine own good contentment and satisfaction; and that hereafter, I should give him a more particular account thereof. With this answer he rested satisfied, and questioned me no farther about it. We sup, we sleep, but I for my part not very quietly, for though I came clear off, and had not any the least rub, but things ran as fairly and smoothly, as in such a case I could have wished it, yet I had a little thing within, that checked me, and told me in mine ear, that I had not done well, which did much trouble me for the time. I passed over that night, as well as I could; and when the Sun was up, having not 
Guzman leaves Genoa, and carries away with him his kinsman's goods.  all this while perceived the Galley so much as to wag, nor hearing any beating of the oars, nor any the least noise in the world, as if I had been in the greatest solitude that the mind of man could imagine; being now fully awakened, and going about to put on my clothes; my Captain comes into my cabin, and tells me, that we had doubled the Cape of Noli. So far we had as fair a wind, and as fine weather, as heart could wish, but it did not still continue thus favourable unto us, but much contrary, and full in the teeth of us, as you shall hear hereafter. For Fortune is not always prosperous; but with the Moon, hath her Crescents, and her wanings, and by how much the more pleasing are her smiles, by so much the more sour are her frowns, when she changes the copy of her countenance. Only I had a desire, whilst we 
Guzman's conceit of his kinsmen in Genoa.  were making our voyage, to know what mine Host thought on, when he saw I returned not the first night to my lodging. And what the second, when the rest could hear no news of me, thinking with myself, what lamentation they would make for me. How many cold shaking fits of an Ague they would have, for want of a warm blanket; how many coverlets would they cast upon them, yet give none to the Hospital; what diligent search they would make after me; what several conjectures, what should become of me; disputing with themselves, whether some body had not murdered me, to make themselves masters of my wealth; or whether I had been wounded in some quarrel. But I imagined with myself, that they conceived, (and they were in the right) that I was gone along with the Galleys. And then being clean out of hope of any humane remedy, I began to think with myself, how shrewdly the fleas would trouble them for many a fair night after.  
Now did I begin to consider, what haste they made to unrip my trunks, that they might by them save themselves harmless, every one first alleging the antelation of time, and priority of his debt, and so by the ordinary course of Law in those parts, pretend as he was the first Creditor, that he might be first paid. Me thought I did likewise see, how mine Host did hug himself, how he did laugh and chucke for joy, to think how rich I had left him, by leaving him these two trunks, which being valued according to their weight, might very well have contented him, for a far longer and larger allowance, than I could possible spend in so short a time. But the worth did not answer the weight: For there was nothing in them, but stones, which if he were minded to hang himself, might serve for his sepulchre. And what say you to my old Uncle, do not you think that he was well provided for, with those precious stones, which Sayavedra acquainted him withal? But that other kinsman of mine, who went away with the chain, who doubts it, but that he did laugh in his sleeve at the rest of his fellows, when he saw he had such a sure pawn in his hands, all pure links of gold, that he might very well pay both the Principal, and the Interest. But when he found it was not Gold, but Alchemy, light and false Latin, being no better (taking away its guilding, and fashion) then base brass, course copper, or such mettle, as you make your candlesticks, what man can imagine, what strange mouths and faces he made? How he hanged down his head, fixing his eyes on the ground, then lifting it up again, turn up the white of his eyes towards heaven, not out of any desire that he had to bless him, that had made him to shine and glitter thus gloriously, but to curse my mother's womb, for bringing forth such a Picaro, such a base rascal, and arrant thief as I was. In this pickle I left them, and so we parted. A man might then have said that of them, which one blind man said to another in Toledo, who being to part company, and to go each to his own house, when they took their leaves, said each to other; Good night (Gossip) till we see one another again.   

CHAP. X.  
Guzman de Alfarache sailing toward Spain, Sayavedra by reason of a great storm, grows Sea-sick. He falls into a Calenture, or burning fever. He waxes lightheaded, and loseth his wits. He cries out, that he is Guzman de Alfarache, and growing mad, throws himself into the Sea, where he is drowned.  
WE had such fair weather when we set forth of Genoa, that the Tuesday following, by Sunrising, we had (as I told you before) doubled the Cape of Noli. And till we came to the 
a The word poma, is used for a woman's paps or dug●…, and by way of similitude may be taken for some Premontorie jetting out into the Sea, resembling the form and fashion of a woman's breasts. If I miss of my aim, I leave it to those that have been in those parts to determine the true signification thereof.  Pomas de Marsella, we had as favourable and prosperous a wind, as we could wish. There did we expect that the wind should still blow fair, having all this while showed itself so friendly and loving unto us. For we had a fresh gale from the East, which holp us so well, that the next day towards the Evening, we discovered, to our general joy, the coast of Spain. But fortune, having not the strength to stand firm, nor being always one and the same; but weak and various, began to manifest unto us the small confidence that we ought to have of her; whereof, too soon to our great hurt, we had sufficient trial. And now, hearing the Mariners call one to another in those terms and language, which is usual with them in such cases, Heaven was covered all over towards the Northwest, with dark and thick clouds, which guttered down upon us huge and great drops of rain. Our good wind had bid us farewell, and our hearts began to be so sad, and so heavy, as if all that same darksome blackness had quite overcast them, such a cloud of sorrow, had like a curtain, overspread those late lightsome faculties of our souls. Which being foreseen by the Pilots, and those other watry-Counsellors at Sea, they held a Council in the poop, debating to and fro, what course was fittest to be taken, to prevent such fearful threatenings. Every one spoke his opinion, delivering what he in his judgement deemed best to be done. But seeing the wind begin to lay lustily about him, bearing his brazen wings against our wooden sides, and his forces increasing more and more, without any other resolution, before their consultation could come to a conclusion, they were instantly, without any more ado, enforced to let fall their main sail, which when they had ruffled, and laid as low as the deck would give them leave, they took out another lesser one, which they call Ma●…buto. (as they do the other, la Borda) which is a kind of triangulary sail, cut out into three corners, after the manner of a woman's kerchief; (This they call la Latina) and this they set up about the middle of the mast, which stood at the end of the last bank of oars, fitting themselves afterwards with those other things, that were needful on such an occasion. They fastened their oars to the upper deck: The passengers, and their soldiers, they commanded (sore against their wills) to keep themselves under hatches: They fell a caulking of the Galley, from the prow to the poop, nor were they wanting in any one of those diligences, that were necessary for the saving of our lives.  
Whilst they were thus busy, the night grew on, and a pitchy darkness had (like a pavilion) pitched itself round about us, all was clouds, Egyptian clouds, black and dark as Hell; so that having lost the comfort of the light, we lost likewise with it all hope of safety; especially when we saw that the storm was no whit allayed, but rather more and more increased upon us. Wherefore for the better avoiding of so many dangers, whereinto by reason of this tempest, they were like to run, they gave present order to hang out the lantern, that they might the better see what they did. The Sea, now began to swell, and lifted one while its waves as high as heaven, and by and by aga ne, abasing that their pride, they tumbled down so low, that they opened the bosom of the Sea so wide, that you might see the sand that lay in the bottom. They were fain to appoint another to assist at the helm, that was an expert Pilot indeed, and knew how to guide the Rudder to a hair. The Masters-mate they caused to be tied fast in a chair to the post near unto the poop, as being resolved either to dye in that place without removing from thence, or to keep the Galley alive, and set her in safety.  
Whilst this skilful Mariner was labouring to put this his deliberation in execution, we often demanded of him, if we were in any great danger; and much more often than he was willing to hear. See how blind-sighted we were, that we would rather give credit to that which had proceeded from his mouth, then that which we saw with our own eyes, which represented nothing but death unto us. But his lying tongue, seemed to afford us like comfort, as doth that of the Physician to the sorrowful and afflicted father, who questions him touching the health, and life of his son, and whether he be likely to dye of this disease, or whether he be dead already: Who tells him, That (God be thanked) he is on the mending hand. In like manner, the Masters-mate, making answer unto us, for to cheer us up, and to put us in heart, would bawl out aloud unto us, Que todo eranada. Tush, all this was nothing. And therefore be of good comfort (my Hearts.) And indeed, in telling us so, he told us but the truth. For all this was nothing, to that which came after. For the wind had torn our sails to fitters, there was not one whole piece, all was rents, and rags, and it grew higher and higher still, so that we were forced to clap on our Treo, which is a kind of round sail, which they make use of in storms. Fortune's hand did not yet grow weary with whipping us; but as if she had not punished us sufficiently already, it was our hap to have an ill guided Galley to fall foul upon us, which striking us with her prow on the poop, made her duck her head into the Sea, and had well-nigh overturned her; and to make this encounter the more unlucky, the blow, and the loss of our Rudder (whereon did depend the hope of our safety) happened both at one and the same instant. When efore seeing ourselves now deprived both of our hope, and helm, wanting a Rudder wherewith to steer, yielding ourselves to the mercy of the Seas, as men despairing of any remedy to repair this loss, yet that they might not desist to use all the means they could, which they thought might make best for our good, (making a virtue of necessity) they made as good shift as they could, by clapping a couple of oars in the place, guiding therewith the Galley (besides the danger) with a great deal of toil, and labour.  
And how shall I here be able to express but the half, nay the least part of that unto you, which these eyes saw, and these ears heard? I do not know the tongue that can speak it. But say I should light on such a tongue; yet, I am sure, I shall hardly meet with those men that will believe it. O, how many vows did they then make I How many Invocations to Saints, every one calling on that, which was the greatest and famousest in his own Country? What various devotions, what a general recourse to their prayers? And some were so childish and so foolish, that you should hear no other word come from them, but, O my mother, ò sweet mother! How many abuses, and how many absurdities, were committed amongst them! Confessing themselves one to another, as if they could be their ghostly fathers, and had power to absolve them. Others in a loud voice made confession of those sins unto God, wherein they had offended him; and as if they thought that God were deaf and thick of hearing, they would stretch out their throats as high as heaven, persuading themselves perhaps, by the force of this their breath, to send their souls packing in that very instant up unto heaven.  
In this desperate, and woeful manner, did our poor weather-beaten Galley endure this misery, together with those that were in her, till the next day following, when as with the brightness of the Sun, and the clearing of the sky, we began to recover breath, so that now all was joy, and our sorrow was turned into mirth, cheering, and heartening up one another. Certainly, it cannot be denied, That of all those dangers, that attend upon death, that is always most feared, which is still nearest unto us. For from those other, we think we may well scape. But I did not so much fear this storm, nor so sensibly apprehend the danger thereof, as I stood in fear by a contrary wind, and the new rigging up of our Galley, to be carried back again to Genoa. It was not the Sea, but the shame, that wrought upon me. This was it, that made me to say to myself, when I saw how the winds blue, and the Seas raged, that all the rest did far the worse for my sake, and that I was that jonas, for whom this tempest was raised, that it might raise me up to repentance.  
Sayavedra became so Sea-sick, that he fell into a shrewd burning fever, and 
Sayavedra falls sick of a fever, and runs mad.  shortly after grew besides himself. It would have grieved a man's heart, and moved much compassion, to see the things that he did, and the fooleries which he uttered; and sometimes, when the storm was greatest, and the danger most, while others were a confessing their sins, he would cry out in a loud voice; I am Guzman de Alfaraches' ghost, I am that ghost of his, which goes thus wand'ring up and down the world; whereat he made me often both laugh, and fear. But though he should have vented some thing unhappily, they all saw that he was mad, and so regarded not what he said. Yet for all this, he would not leave his talking, but by flashes would fall a ripping up of my life, and bolt out by fits, all that which I had formerly recounted unto him concerning the courses I had taken, composing a thousand extravagancies. And if by chance he heard any man talk of promising to perform a pilgrimage to Monserrate, thither would he lead me; telling, at what stations, and weddings he had been there with me. He did dress me (like a French Cook) a thousand several ways. But that which was most to be laughed at, (though it much pitied me to see him in that state) and wherein I took most pleasure, was; That he spoke all these things of himself, as if he had been true Guzman indeed.  
In brief, we being all shrewdly beaten, and grown extreme weary with our late storm, the night following we went in a good hour to take our rest, to see if we could recover that old debt of our former lost sleep. We were all of us so weary, and so drowsy, and our Galley so battered, and torn about the poop, that Sayavedra rising up in his frantic fit, leapt at that open place where our rudder was split from us, into the Sea, on whom we could never after 
Sayavedra drowns himself.  set eye; though the Mariner that kept watch, as soon as he heard the flownce of the fall, presently cried out, Hombre a la mar; There is some body fallen into the water. Whereupon we began presently to conjecture, that it must needs be he; and upon inquiry finding him wanting, we sought to recover him, but it would not be. And so poor Sayavedra was buried in the Sea; all of them much lamenting his misfortune, and seeking all that they could, to comfort me. I made show, as if I had been exceeding sorry for him, but God he knows how true it was. The next day I got me up betimes in the morning, which I wholly spent in receiving the condolings, which they made unto me, which were done in that doleful fashion, as if he had been a brother, a kinsman, or the nearest and dearest friend that I had in the world, bewailing the great loss that I had sustained in him; or as if, when he threw himself into the Sea, he had carried away my trunks likewise with him. God bless me from that mischance (said I to myself) as for any other misfortune, I doubt not but I shall very easily overpass it. They knew not how (more than this) to comfort me, nor what they should ente ta'en me withal to divert my grief; for they did verily believe, that I was wonderful sorry for him, because I had put on a seeming heaviness. And the more they sought to bring me out of it, the more I feigned to be in it; at last they called to one that had been condemned to the Galleys, who was very studious, and a great lover of curiosities, that he should come where I was, and bring a certain book along with him, which he had written with his own hand, which the Captain taking from him, and turning over the leaves in a careless kind of fashion, he lighted by chance upon a notable story which happened in Sevill; and returning back the book to the owner, he willed him to read it unto me. He thereupon required their attention; which being granted unto him, he began to read as followeth; recommending it first unto them, as well for its strangeness, as its truth.  
There was in Sevill (the famousest City in all Spain, and the Metropolis of 
A true and strange story of a merchant in Sevill.  Andaluzia) a Merchant that was a stranger, well borne, rich, and honest, whose name was Miçer jacobo. He had two sons, and one daughter by a noble Gentlewoman of that City. They being carefully trained up in virtue, in good manners, and in all kind of learning appertaining to the liberal Arts: And she bred up to her needle, wherein for curious workmanship, she did excel, (all the Gentlewomen in those parts, being mere bunglers unto her.) And there was some reason, why she should be so exquisite, and singular the ein, for that from her childhood, she had been bred up in a Monastery of Nuns, by reason that her mother died in childbed, when she was borne.  
Now in regard that the goods of fortune, are mutable and uncertain, and more in Merchants then other men, who carry their wealth in other men's purses, and commit their estates to the disposition of the wind and the weather, there being not half a foot difference betwixt their making and their marring, their enriching or undoing. It so fell out, that his two sons returning home from the Indies, and bringing along with them good store of gold and silver, when they were now come within sight of the bar of San Lucar, and thinking themselves as safe, as if they had been (as they say) within the doors of th●…i own house, there arises a huge storm on the sudden, and the Sea enraged with the boisterous blustrings of the winds, begins to swell, and lo●…ke big upon them with its billows; insomuch, that this poor unfortunate ship, set upon by two such fierce and cruel enemies, was miserably tossed to and fro, and so violently carried out of its course, that at last unable any longer to resist the rage of this terrible tempest, she desperately ran herself upon a rock, the terribleness of which blow, did not only open her womb, and cleave it clean in the midst, but did split all the ribs of her in a thousand pieces; so that both men and goods were all cast away, and utterly lost, and never after either seen, or heard of.  
When the heavy news of so great a loss (whose nimbleness lies only in its wing) came flying to the father's care, such a deep melancholy suddenly seized on all his vital parts, that with the grief thereof, within a few days after, he also died. His daughter that remained in the Covent, having lost all her wealth, her father, her mother, & both her brothers, remaining thus abandoned, and left to shift for herself, was wonderfully sensible of this her woeful estate (which might likewise have much troubled any man whatsoever, though never so wise) when she saw, that in so short a time, which might in a manner run in the reckoning (as it were) of one day, she had lost so many real comforts, and with them, that hope of remedy to allay her miseries, (for she much desired to become a Nun) she wept so bitterly, and took on so pitifully, that it would have grieved any man's heart, to see the sorrowful lamentation that she made. Here ceased her designs, and here began her sorrows; Here ceased her plenty, and here began her want; Here ceased her 
b Regalo, is a word of a large extent, and signifies any thing that may give a woman content, be it in meat, drink, clothes, sports, or whatsoever else that may delight her.  regaloes, and here began her troubles. Which went daily so increasing upon her, that she knew not in the world what to do, nor how to be able to maintain herself in the Nunnery. And albeit all the Nuns there wished her exceeding well, and bore her great love and affection for the nobleness of her condition and quality, her affability, civility, goodness of nature, sweetness of behaviour, and other commendable parts, condoling very much this her present necessity, and poverty; and were very desirous that she should continue still amongst them, yet could they not possibly bring it to pass. For their wills being subordinate to that of their Superior, it being in their Prelates, and not their own choice, neither could they effect what they desired, nor she continue any longer amongst them. For very shortly after it was notified unto her, that she should either leave the house, or if she had a mind to stay, forthwith to assign her dowry. But she not being able (for want of means) to comply with the second condition, she was forced to entertain the former. This poor distressed maid was so cunning at her needle, and had such a curious hand in all kind of works, white or black, in silk or gold, and in ordering her colours, to give true life and perfection to whatsoever she took in hand, that the fame thereof was spread over all the City.  
To this sum, I must add the virtues of her soul, and the beauty of her face, both which were in that height of excellency, (the parts of her body, being answerable to those of her mind) that he that had but once seen her, would verily have thought, nay almost sworn, that two most cunning and exquisite Artisans, had in emulation one to the other, spent all their spirits, and employed the utmost of their skill, in framing such a singular creature as she was, being such a perfect piece of beauty, and goodness, that she might draw off the beholder's eyes from all other objects (though not unworthy the looking on) and attract them to herself. Yet all this put together, being in that (if the word do not exceed) excess, was nothing, being compared with her retiredness of life, her mortification of the flesh, her fasts, prayers, and penance. She, not unwitting, that she was now thrust out into the wide world, that she had no more any Nunnery to shelter, but lay open to the venues of Fortune, if she did not the better stand upon her guard, fearing the world's murmuring, and those occasions, which might bring some scandal upon her reputation, as one that was wonderful tender and jealous of her honour, she had got her a lodging, where she had the company of diverse other virtuous and religious young maidens; and there, without any suspicion, or least shadow of any ill intention, having no other help or means to live, save the sweat of her brows, and the labour of her fingers ends, she lived there very frugally, keeping herself within her bounds, and giving a good example of her virtue to all the young damosels of her time.  
The Archbishop of that City, had a great desire to have some curiosities made for him, as certain wrought Chalice-cloathes, 
c The Spanish word, is, Corporales; which though they signify those things that belong to the body: yet are they more strictly taken for those linen clothes which are laid upon the Altar, whereupon in their Masses, they place the body of our Saviour jesus Christ under the forms of bread and wine; and represent unto us, that Sindone or fine linen sheet, wherein they wrapped the sacred body of our blessed Saviour when they ●…d him in his sepulchre. Vide Stephanum Durandum de ritibus Ecclesiae, lib. 1. c. 22.  neat towels, handsome napkins, dainty handkerchiefs, and the like, to wrap the Host in, bordered about with some historical work, as should best fit with the use whereunto ●…hey served, and to have them done as near to the life as Art could attain unto. After much inquiry made, there being none to be found, that could do these things half so well as Dorotea (for so was this Gentlewoman called) upon the good report they had heard of her, they sought her out, and recommended this work unto her care, promising she should be well paid for her pains. She considered with herself, that for such a curious piece of work as this was to be, she must make choice of the best, the purest, the brightest, and the finest gold thread that she could get for money, whatsoever it cost. And because they that know best how to bestow it, know best how to buy it, she herself, taking some of her neighbours and friends along with her, went to seek out this ware amongst the Gold-beaters shops, who in Sevill both make and sell these kind of commodities. It was their hap to come to a young man's shop, that was a handsome fellow, and well behaved, who had but newly set up for himself, and to get him the better custom, strove to have his shop well furnished, and indeed, had better and more choice than the rest of his neighbours, that traded in that kind. Of this young man, she was willing to buy all the gold, that she had occasion to use about this work (as well because she found it was fit for her turn, as likewise to excuse herself a labour of going too oft out of doors) if she had had so much money, as would have done the deed: but having no more store, than that little which they had given her to begin the work withal, she told the Master of the shop, that she would bestow a little money with him now, but she would come again for more, as her work went on, and her moneys came in. This young Occupyer, when he had beheld the beauty, and composed countenance of this young maiden, and had well observed her manner of speech, her honest carriage, and modest behaviour, he fell into that good liking of her, and was so far in love with her, that the least that he could have found in his heart to have given her, was all the gold that she had occasion to use, which was no great matter, being that at that very instant, he had delivered up his soul unto her. And perceiving, that she forbore to buy so much, as otherwise she would willingly have done, for that she wanted money, embracing the occasion, which he had now in his hands, not so much to gain her farther custom, as to express the affection that he bore unto her, and to draw her into a good opinion of him, not suffering her to part upon those terms, he said unto her; Mistress, if the gold be good, and such as you look after, and that it be for your turn, pick and choose where you like, and carry away with you as much as you have use for, or what you please, and pay me now what you can well spare, as for the rest you shall pay me by little and little, as you shall receive it from their hands that set you a work. The young man seemed to them all, to be very kind and courteous, and for the ware, they could find no fault with it, being as good, as themselves could wish or desire. Dorotea made him present payment of as much as she had, and having made choice of as much gold, as she thought good and needful for her, she carried it away with her, leaving with him the name of the street, whither he should either come or send for that which was remaining behind. That done, they presently went their way, the poor young man being so love-strucken after their departure, and so pitifully wounded with this amorous arrow, that he was as far from himself, as from all rest, being tossed to and fro with various thoughts, having his brains beaten with many troublesome and unquiet imaginations. Love had almost burst the very heart of him; He did neither eat, nor drink, nor any thing else, that might seem to bear the name of life: so altogether was his soul occupied in the contemplation of that rare and incomparable beauty, and that mirror of all virtue, that this his troublesome life, was to him as bad as death, not knowing in the world what to do. At last, it seeming unto him, that she was a poor young maiden, and that by means of marriage, his chafed desires might arrive in the end to some happy port, he resolved to inform himself what she was, as also of what life, behaviour, and birth.  
The reports which were given of her, were such, that he was now more perplexed, and less confident than before. Despairing in a manner with himself, that he should ever be able to enjoy so rich a jewel, holding himself full more and more unworthy of so great a happiness, as to obtain her to be his Spouse. He was now quite out of heart, as knowing himself too mean for her worth: But because it was not possible for him now to go back, nor did it lie in his hands (if he would) to have done it; and for that the passions of the soul, are no less prevalent in the poor, than the powerful, and that all are all alike subject thereunto, and equally affected with them; howbeit he found himself cast so far behindhand, yet did he never leave striving to try if he could get before, persevering still in his honest purpose, for that he put himself into God's hands, who doth always favour our good intentions, and knows how to accommodate those things, that tend to his service, according to his divine will and pleasure; presenting evermore in his prayers and supplications unto him, that his desire was no other, then to get him a companion, with whom he might be the better enabled to serve him, and more particularly, that he might be linked in lawful marriage with this so virtuous a creature, and one that was so much to his hearts-liking and content; yet not that his, but Gods will should be done, where-unto he should most willingly submit himself, and that he should so far grant his request (and no farther) as it should seem best to his Majesty, and make most for his service.  
He went likewise discoursing with himself; and amongst many other, this one presented itself to his imagination; That peradventure her great poverty, her wary discretion, and vigilant foresight, would force her thereunto, considering the solitary kind of life she now led, and the remedy thereof, and laying aside those vain points of honour, not measuring herself by what she was, but what she is, she would happily accommodate herself to the condition of her present fortune; and that, when his honest desire to serve her, should be truly represented unto her, she may chance to yield to my fair request. Entertaining himself with these thoughts & cares, he was minded to call upon her for the money which she ought him, but not with purpose to press her therewith, nor to be troublesome therein unto her, but taking occasion rather one while to see this her curious work, another while, that passing that way, he was of purpose come thither to know whether she needed any more gold, and if she did, that she should not want it, whilst he had any that was fit for her; & so fetching many a walk thither, excusing himself in the best mannerthat he could, and as he thought would make most for the performing of these his frequent visits, and the procuring of her good will and acquaintance, for that time he pretended nothing else; to the end, that this being first obtained, he might the better play his game hereafter, and in the interim mitigate some part of that sorrow which her absence did continually torment him withal. In this, the young man showed himself as discreet, as solicitous; and as solicitous, as truly loving. Going on in those good and honest terms, that in a short time he gained the good wills of all those that conversed and were companions to Dorotea. Being so far from disliking his often visits, that they rather received them as favours and courtesies. Amongst the rest, that lived there together, there were four Sisters, to one of which, as being the gravest and reverendest of the company, they did all show a kind of respect, as well for her temper and wisdom, as also for her priority of years. With this grave Matron, our young man seeks to enter into a stricter kind of friendship, by reverencing her, and observing her, and by presenting her with some such tokens and remembrances, as might su●…e best with the respect (more than love) that he bore unto her. So that in the end, time bringing forth occasion, by degrees he discovered himself unto her, making her acquainted with his desires, not omitting any thing that might make her fully to understand the greatness of his affection, and the fairness of his pretention. Earnestly entreating her withal, that by interposing her power and authority, she would be a means, that his hopes should not return home empty, and unrewarded, her worth, and wisdom, putting him in good assurance of the contrary. And that therefore she would be pleased to continue her good favour towards him; and as occasion should offer, that she should go working and disposing this pe●…ce of wax, to receive the impression of his affection; leaving it to her, to imprint it in her to the life, that seeing the trueness of the stamp, she might be the sooner moulded to entertain the motion: But in case she should not find her pliable, but tough and hard to be wrought upon, she would seek to mollify her by her meek and gentle persuasions, and remove all those difficulties, which on her part might be a hindrance to these his honest desires; for on his part, he vowed and protested unto her, that nothing should be able to cross it, but that with open arms he would run to embrace her, submitting himself to be in all things ordered, if not overruled by them. Good means, seconded by good intentions, and which, without any humane respects, treat of honest things (carrying a sound heart in their breasts, and a true tongue in their heads) have always such force and power with them, that they easily persuade, because truly believed.  
This Gentlewoman, so wrought with Dorotea, sometimes this way, and sometimes that, now using t'one, then t'other means, till at last, she brought the business so about, that she being convinced by reason, began to yield to her persuasions, and to condescend to the motion that she made unto her; and obeying her in all things, as if she had been her own natural mother, she kissed her hands, in acknowledgement of her thankfulness, putting herself wholly into her hands. In conclusion, the match was made up between them to both their good like, but more especially on Bonifacio his part (for so was her husband called) for that he was fully persuaded, that in meeting with this jewel, no man was more happy, more fortunate, and more rich than himself; having now got him such a w●…e, as his own heart could not have wished a better, being greater in her condition and quality, than he deserved, and such a good creature besides, that he could lead a secure and honest course of life with her, without fear or trouble of any jealous thoughts, nor of any other thing that might cause his disquiet. They lived very contentedly together, making exceeding much of each other, and wonderfully well satisfied of that chaste and true love, which they bore one to another. He did ordinarily attend his shop, busying himself (for both their benefits) in the exercise of his Trade, and she abiding above in her chamber, either playing the good huswife, in those things that appertained to the good government of the house; or following her needle, spending part of that gold thread which her husband sold, in working goodly borders, garnishing them with curious flowers in their true and natural colours, and other the like neat and dainty pieces, wherein she did excel. Their gains were great, and to make this their happiness the fuller, there was that conformity in their love, and such an equal retribution in their affections, that no two in the world could live more honestly, and more lovingly together than they did.  
But the Devil, who is still waking, and never sleeps, but still watches most how he may break the bond of peace, and breed brawls in love, against this loving Couple, these who agreed so well together, that there was never yet any the least difference between them, prepares his pitfalls, sets up his traps, and spreads his nets with all secrecy, and all the skill and cunning he could devose, to do them all the mischief he could, and if it were possible, to throw this uniform frame, and strong piece of building to the ground. He followed this poor soul close at the heels, watching advantage how he might trip her up, and overthrow her, and in case he could not do that, yet at least to give her a foil, or make her to stumble. Insomuch, that at her Visits, when she was at Mass, or at Sermon, yea in her greatest devotion, when she was receiving the Sacrament, he did still seek to trouble her, presenting her with the instruments of his malice and wickedness, young Gallants, discreet in their carriage, neat in their clothes, and sweet in their perfumes, who fell a courting her, when she came forth, following and soliciting her whither-soever she went: but all these tricks would not serve the Devil's turn, he did not reap the fruit he hoped for; for this chaste woman, standing stiffly to her tackling, and giving her enemy no ground, did evermore withstand these lightnesses, by opposing against them a constant chaste mind, and a settled, and well resolved honesty. And howbeit, for to avoid all occasion, she did forbear, as much as she possibly could to go abroad, and when she did, it was very seldom, and when she was of necessity enforced thereunto, at which time she was likewise haunted and persecuted by them. They did round her door night and day, they sought inventions, and used all the means that might be for to see her; neither did this also profit them any thing.  
Amongst those Gallants, that desired to serve her (for all of them were young Gentlemen, of very good fashion, and the chiefest in Sevill) there was one, hat was 
d Teniente, is one that is substitute to another in an Office. A Lieutenant. A tenendo. As having the charge and keeping of some Forts or Castle, which he faithfully keeps and maintains. Covatr. verb. Teniente.  Teniente of the Town, a young man, unmarried, and rich. This Gentleman lived right against the house where she dwelled, where he had very fair and goodly rooms, being especial and principal lodgings, and of so many stories high, and those goodly open galleries, that they did overtop and look into those lower ones of Dorotea, notwithstanding that they were distanced by a whole street, that interposed itself between their houses. So that from his Turrets, his Terraces, and his high windows, he might overlook her, and see what she did; and that so plainly, that neither her husband, nor herself, could scarce rise up in the morning to make them ready, or at night get them to bed, without being seen and espied by him; especially they being careless, and heeding no such matter, and the other with extraordinary diligence, watching and prying what they did. This Teniente than, making use of this occasion, with all carefulness and vigilancy, accompanied with insupportable passions, and sorrows, did labour (as if his life had lain upon it) how he might come to have some speech with her, or receive any favour from her hands. But finding in the end, that he lost his labour, and spent his time in vain, he was forced, as the rest of his fellows were, to give over his 
e The Spanish word is; Bolver all pucsto con la cana. To pitch down his standard. To proceed no farther.  suit, set up his rest, and turn back the same way he came, without obtaining any the least look, or favour from her, not being able to perceive in her any shadow of hope, that either now or hereafter (though never so small) she was likely to grant him. For this chaste woman did live in that sober and discreet fashion, and did so well and wisely govern herself, that she put him quite off from any suspicion, which might encourage him to pretend any kindness from her, or but wash off one hairs breadth of gold from this good creatures credit; though it is not to be doubted, he used all the Art he could, to have made her some few grains lighter than she was.  
There went likewise along in the same dance with the rest, another Penitentiary, that was of the same brotherhood and company of these foolish 
f Disciplinantes, are they that lash themselves to do penance.  Disciplinantes, and selfe-afflicting lovers. This was a Gentleman of Burgos, gallant, young, discreet, and rich. Which good parts, favoured by his frank, and bountiful disposition, might (a man would have thought) have digged down mountains, and laid them level with the lowest earth. But the chaste Dorotea, neither by this Gentleman's good parts, nor the Teniente's great power, nor all the passions of other her Lovers, could be moved one ●…ot from her honourable resolution, not having any sense or feeling thereof in the world, as if she had been no woman of this world, or had minded any such matter. Against all these assaults, she showed herself a strong Tower, an inexpugnable rock, against which the continual beat of those furious waves of their raging lust and frothy appetite (not being able to prevail) were broken and dashed in pieces. And it is not to be doubted, but that her honesty, continually keeping watch, like the Crane, that with the stone of God's love, raising herself from the ground, and her foot standing fast and firm on the steady affection that she bore to her husband, did free her from these birds of rapine, these Eagles of Caucasus, that sought to make a prey of her. And it had been impossible to have wounded either her, or her honesty, if the cunning and crafty Fowler had not spread his net, covering and shadowing it over with the green grass of holiness, and simulated sanctity, to entrap this simple, harmless, and innocent Dove. This Burgalese (whose name was Claudio) had to his servant a dainty fine shee-slave, not swarfe and tawny (as others commonly be) but fair and well-favoured, of a good presence, a good garb, and graceful behaviour, borne in Spain of a Moorish slave of Barbary. She was so cunning, so subtle, so nimble witted, so dextrous in her tricks and devices, such a worker of herself into all folk's loves and affections (were it for her own ends, or others) so curious in visiting Churchyards, so charitable in accompanying those that were to be hanged, that she was able to make 
g When they will note out a Watch, or the sorceries of an old Hag, the Spaniards endear it with this phrase, Que ha●…à naçerberios en cima de la cama. That they will make water-cresses to grow on the top of a bed. that is; she will do strange things, or work wonders. Covarr. verb. Berros.  water-cresses to grow on the top of a bed. She was such a one, as for such like affairs, her fellow was not to be found. Her Master one day called her unto him, and giving her account of this his Love-torment, he craved her counsel, how he might come to compass his pretention. This his good slave, after that she had been well informed of the business, and knew how the case stood with him, as if she had been in jest, smilingly said unto him; Why how now (my good Master) what mountains have you to remove? What Seas to dry up? What dead to raise unto life? What great difficulty is there in that which doth thus afflict thee? Or why dost thou so endear it unto me? Sir, Are not these things that I am well seen in? Little oil, and less labour, will serve to bring this wheel about, than thou thinkst for. Thou mayest now make reckoning that she is thine own, and that thou hast her already in thy hands. Let not this therefore trouble thee any farther, but be of good cheer, and pluck up thy heart; for within these few days, I will deliver this Hare into thy lap. And if I do not, let me lose my name for ever, and call me no more Sabina, the daughter of Haja. From that time forward, she took this business to task, and began from that very instant, like a cunning Chesse-player, so to order and marshal her men, designing with herself how to make her draughts, and within how many removes, to give first the check, and then the checkmate. Now does she set herself roundly to her play, and begins this her game, moving first one of her pawns, reserving her best men for the last push, if the meaner should miscarry in this battle.  
First of all therefore, she makes me a fine delicate little basket, of the green sprigs of Myrtles, Pome-citrons, & Oranges, adorning and setting it forth with Gally-flowres, Geeimines, Musk-roses, and other sweet flowers, bound in with small tender bulrushes, which were composed and set together in most dainty and curious manner. This basket she takes along with her, and bears it to the Gold-beater; Telling him, that she was servant to a certain Gentlewoman that was a Nun in that City, and Lady-Abbesse of a Covent; who having notice of the goodness of his ware, and having necessary use of some of his best gold, for to flourish over certain things, which were to serve for some ornament that were to adorn that Monastery against Midsummer day, which was a great Festival with them, she had sent him that little basket for a token, entreating him, to send her two pound of his purest and finest gold, that she might make proof of it, and that if it should be found to be so good, as to her it had been commended, and that she found it fit for her purpose, she would pay him well for it, and he should from henceforth have her custom for all the gold that should be spent in her House, sending weekly for so much as they had occasion to use. Besides, she would be ve●…y thankful unto him, if he served her well, and bestow now and then upon him such dainties and curiosities, as those religious places usually afford. B●…facio was m●…ch gladded with this new occasion of fresh gains, and no less with his little basket of flowers, which he made much reckoning of, being so neatly and ar●…ficially wrought, as indeed it was. Which he had no sooner received (having first dispatched the slave away with the gold) but he presently carries it up to his wife, putding it in her lap with great joy, which was by her with no less received She asked him, of whom he had bought it: And then he told her all that had passed. Then did she esteem it much more than before, because it brought to her remembrance the time of her childhood, when with other girls of her years, and the Nuns of the Covent, she did busy herself in the like exercises. Whereupon, she entreated her husband, that when she came to him again, he would send her up unto her, for she would gladly be acquainted with her.  
The next week following, being some six days after, Sabina returns very iocondly, boasting how good the gold was, and that she was come for as much more of the same; bringing with her a large message in the behalf of her Mistress the L●…dy-Abbesse, and presenting him from her, with a little image of the rind of Limmons, and a Rosario suitable to the same, so cariously cut out, that it was well worthy much estimation. As soon as he saw it, he would not himself receive it of her, but entreated her, that she with her own hands would deliver it to Dorotea his wife. Now the 
h Cayo la sopa en la miel.  sop was fallen into the honey-pot. 
Proverb.  Now had she what she would have. This fell out as pat for her as a pudding for a Fiyars mouth. But making strange of this news, and as though she had known no such matter, she said unto him. Ah, thou naughty man, dost thou speak in carnest? Art thou married indeed? I do not believe it. Thou art bought and sold with us for a single man, we took thee to be a Batchclour, and my Mistress talked of marrying thee with a pretty Lay-mayd●… t●…at we have in our House, as fine and as fresh as the flowers in May, and is both beautiful, and rich. Bonifacio replied; I have one already as rich and as beautiful, as you there can give me any, and with whom I live most contentedly. And if you will not believe me, go up, and see. Sabina then said unto him; In faith no, not I, you shall not get me up stairs, I am afraid you will play the wag with me, and that you do but jest. I assure you, I do not jest (said Bonifacio) and therefore (friend Sabina) you may boldly go up. up she goes, and having entered the room where she was, she no sooner saw Dorotea, but she runs with open arms towards her, and throws herself down at her feet, making a thousand ducks and reverences unto her after the Moorish fashion, admiring much her rare and singular beauty, which though she had heard it much spoken of before, yet this work of nature, went far beyond the words that were uttered of it. For it was such an admirable piece, that report was not able to express it to the lise, but must needs fall short in the praising of it. But she stood like one astonished, when she beheld the frames, and those looms of rich embroideries, and other the like works, wherein she spent her time, wondering at their perfection and curiosity, saying unto her; How is it possible, that my Mistress should not have the happiness to enjoy such excellent good things as these? No, no, it shall not be long (by the grace of God) ere you two know one another, and be better acquainted, and enter into a strict league of friendship. O sweet jesus! When I shall tell my Lady-Abbesse, what I have seen, o how will she envy my good fortune? What a longing desire will she have, till she see that face of yours, and be made so happy as to enjoy your good company? By the life of her, that left me here behind her, and as her soul is there, where those eternal tapers continually burn, let the pocks consume my jaw-bones, if I be not a Bawd to these your loves, because I have a great mind to bring you together, and that ye should dear love each other. I will not fail hereafter to visit you oftener, you are a pearl of that price, that I cannot choose but love you, make much of you, and desire to serve you. After these words, and many other, full of ceremony and compliment, she took her leave, and went away with her gold. And from that time forward, every second or third day, she made one errand or other thither, one while for gold; another, saying that she passed that way, telling Bonifacio, that she should be guilty to herself of neglect, & that she should commit treason to her own heart, if she should pass that way, and not perform a visit to that good Angel of his, being the only Saint of her sex, to whose shrine she did owe all respect and reverence. At other times, she would excuse her coming, by bringing her some rarity or other, and whilst she was talking with her, go disposing and preparing of her, that she would of her own accord go one day and make merry at the Monastery.  
Now, when she had moulded things to her mind, and thought that this fine piece of gold was fit for the hammering, she took a walk thither on Monday morning, carrying along with her two pretty little baskets, the one having in it some Conserves, and the like toys; the other, some fruits of that season, the first and the best that were to be found upon their first coming. Which she presented her withal, telling her, because they were fruits of their own garden, and the first they had gathered, her Lady Abbess thought they could not be better bestowed on any, than herself. And that withal she had a double request unto her; The first, that the next ensuing Monday, being the feast of the glorious Saint john Baptist, and the Sunday before it, their first Vespers, she would be pleased to do her the favour to stay those two days with her in the Monastery, doing penance there with her; which she might the more conveniently do, in regard that she had no occasion of business during those two Holidays; and besides, the Nuns, after they had ended their feasts, were amongst themselves to represent a Comedy; And that the Abbess would take no pleasure nor contentment in it, if she would not do her this favour, to come and see it acted; and that other principal Gentlewomen, that were of kin to the Nuns, were likewise to come thither, and that they should go all along together, bearing each other company: The other, that she might have three pound of her best and finest gold, to make tufts and tassels for a rich cloth that was to be used before the Altar; desiring her, if it were possible, that she might have the choicest and the finest for that purpose, that was to be got. To this of the gold, Dorotea made answer, she could, and would do that for her with a very good will; for this (quoth she) is in my power to perform; I could likewise be content to comply with whatsoever my Lady Abbess shall be pleased to command me, but this is not in mine but my husband's hands. You know (Sister Sabina) that I am not Mistress of myself, I am under another's command, and therefore in this, you must ask my goodman's leave; it is he that can give you an I, or a No, whether I shall go or stay. To whose will I must, and ever shall conform myself. This were fine in good faith (said then Sabina) if your husband should deny us so small and so fair a request as this? Let me never thrive, if I go out of doors these eight days, unless he give you leave: Say yourself, doth it stand with reason (to omit the mentioning of common civility, and good manners) that one only request which my Mistress makes unto you, being (besides the first that ever she made unto you) so earnest a one, and so just, that you should lose all respect towards her person and her kindness, as to deny her so slight a courtesy, desiring (as she doth her salvation) to enjoy such a paradise as yourself? Fie Sabina, hold thy peace (said Dorotea) be not so profane, nor do not flout your poor friend, for I am old. Old, (said Sabina) yes, yes, you be very old indeed; Let me die of your disease. You might as well have told me, that the Spring is the end of the year, and that Lent is Christmas. But let us leave off jesting; As old as you are, God grant your husband may long enjoy you, and give you the fruit of his blessings. And therefore without any more ado, I pray grant our request; for I mean to go away with this good bargain, that my mistress may con me thank for it. O how much will she make of this pretty little Rogue? Bonifacio and Dorotea, fell a laughing to see her so pleasant; while he (with a 
Proverb.  cheerful countenance) not seeing the 
i La cusebra esta entre la yerva.  Snake that lay lurking in the grass, nor the ambush that was laid for him, suspecting no harm, and the less, in regard of the great confidence that he had in his wife, said: Well followed in good faith; Now (by my life) Sabina hath pleaded hard in this cause, and hath handsomely bestirred herself; she must not be denied for this once, especially being it is my Lady-Abbesses pleasure to have it so. And therefore I prithee (sweet Heart) go and recreate thyself there those two days, for I know thou wilt be well pleased therewith, and it shall be no small contentment to me, because it shall content thee. And therefore (Sabina) you may tell her Ladyship that her will shall be fulfilled as well in this, as in any thing else, wherein I may serve her. And when these Gentlewomen that you speak of go unto the Monastery, I pray so order the matter, that they may pass this way, and take my wife along with them. Sabina, being a well-spoken woman, returned them thanks in excellent good language, using such sitting phrase as best suited with the accomplishment of her desire. She hide her home, so well contented, and so proud of this rich purchase that she had made, that the steps she set forward, seemed to go back again, and that she should never come time enough to her Master's lodging. Her heart was ready to have burst in her body, it was so over-swolne with joy; and would (had it been lawful for her so to do) have found in her heart, to have cried it out at the high Crosse. A man might have seen her mirth in her looks, her blood boiled within her, and her eyes did seem to dance in her face for very joy; you would have thought, that through them, and her mouth, she would have uttered the cause of this her (more than can be expressed) content. When she came into the house, no ground could hold her, she fell presently to plucking off her chapines, to undoing of her mantle, flinging it with all the haste she could over her head, leaving it trailing at her tail, and holding up the fore-skirts in her hands, lest they might hinder her speed, she runs me, as fast as her legs would carry her (like one that had been afraid out of her wits) into her Master's chamber, who attended her coming. And out of mere haste, that she might tell him all at once, all hung between her teeth and her tongue, that she was not able to speak one ready word. She would one while be in the Active, another while in the Passive: Well, or ill, as well as she could, she delivered her message in that manner, that those eight days never had an end, she in telling him of them, and he in ask her of them, a least a thousand times apiece over and over. Every moment they returned to treat anew of one and the same thing, re-iterating the same, I know not how many times over, and fell to make Comments thereupon, discoursing how it could be possible, that this business should take effect: It seemed unto them, that that whereof they talked, had fully contented them, and gone for good payment, their belief never coming to an end, never being able to persuade themselves, that the news of so great a desired good, could be certain, or that ever they should come to see so happy a day.  
Dorotea and Sabina, being thus agreed upon the point, that this business might be the more cleanly carried, Claudio took order, that certain women should be provided and fitted up, that were of his good acquaintance, and friends and wellwishers to his house, such as he might safely communicate any secret unto, to the end, that by their good care and diligence, they might help to bring this his purpose to pass.  
Sunday (the appointed day) being come, some of them, appareling themselves like married wives, others, being in the habit of maidens, and others after the fashion of grave 
k The Spanish word is, Duena, and signifieth an ancient. Gentlewoman that is a widow: now ta●… commonly for those that wear large veils like your Nuns, to difference them from maids. And in the King's Court, they call those Duenas de honour, that are principal persons, and become widows, & your Queens and great Princesses have them still attending upon them. Covarr. verb. Duena.  and matron-like Gentlewomen, went along with Sabina to go fetch Dorotea. They come to her house, they knock at the door, her husband comes forth, who stayed at home looking for them: Who seeing such a worthy train of women, opinionating them to be principal persons, presently called to his wife, that she should make haste, and come down, that the company might not stay for her. down comes Dorotea, no less innocent, then contented. All of them did very lovingly salute her, bestowing many kind words, and ceremonious compliments upon her. And her husband, having consigned her over unto them, they placed her in the midst between them, and so with great joy they set forward on their voyage. And as they were walking towards the Monastery, one of them, that had a veil on her head, and of more reverend aspect and speech than the rest, makes a stop, and suddenly cries out; Ay me, forgetful wretch that I am, how hath it slipped our remembrance, that we forgot to go for Donna Beatriz the new married Bride, who stays at home expecting our coming, who also is invited to the Nunnery? Then another of them made answer, By the bones of my father, you say true. As God help me, I did no more think upon her, than I remember the first 
l No me acordava mas della, que de la primera camisa, que me vesti.  smock that was put on my back. We can by no means go without her, we must needs have her along with us, and therefore let us turn down here, for it is not much out of the way, and we shall be there by and by. Then one of those, which was to the rest, as the bell-wether, that goes before the flock, ruffling between her legs a large sided kirtle, and having a Rosario hanging at her neck, which served in steed of a bell, leads the way unto them, 
Proverb.  whom all of them follow, till she had brought them to Claudio his house. They called at the door; A slave, putting her head out at the window, asks, who was there, and what they would have. One of them made answer; Run in quickly, and tell your Mistress, that she would be pleased to make haste, and come down, for we stay here for her. She made as if she had gone in to deliver her the message, and anon after comes forth again with this answer, That her Mistress would entreat them to have the patience to stay a little, till she had but fastened a pin or two to her head-dressing, and had put on her mantle, which would not be long a doing, desirng them in the mean while to come in, and rest themselves in the Hall. Whereupon, they entered through a fair Court into a goodly spacious Hall, very well furnished, where the rest of the women remained, only two of them past forward with Dorotea, into a middling square room, which was hung with cloth of silver, and watchet damask, with a bed suitable thereunto, full of embossed work of gold, the chairs, and cushions, and carpets corresponding with the rest. Adjoining close to the bed was a curious 
m Estrado is a place raised half a foot from the ground, covered over with carpets, where Ladies and Gentlewomen sit upon cushions, and receive their Visits. Lat●… Stratus, ab stemendo: sed pouùs à Graec. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Covarr. verb. Estrado.  Estrado, where these three sat them down, and had scarce warmed their cushions, when the two, that were with her, began to complain, and cry out; Good God, what does this new Bride Dona Beatriz mean to make us stay here so long? Fie, what a tedious thing is this? I care not (says the one to the other) if I go in, and see what she is a doing, I dare pawn my life, she is not yet out of her bed. I prithee, Sister, (if thou be'st a good wench) go with me, that we may know, when we shall get hence. Which word was no sooner spoken, but they both went presently out of the room, leaving Dorotea all alone. In conclusion, they were all vanish●…d, and not any body living to be heard about the house.  
When all was hush, Claudio comes in, and sitting down upon one of the cushions, that was next to Dorotea, he began to make her many fair offers, discovering unto her the plot that he had laid to get her thither, excusing this his manner of proceeding, with the great torments that for her sake he endured. When she heard him speak in this language, and now (too lat●…) perceived how she was betrayed; poor Dorotea was not a little troubled; for she knew him by sight, and was not ignorant of his pretensions. She saw herself taken in the trap, she knew not what to do, nor how to defend herself, and therefore began with tears and prayers, entreating him with all the Rhetoric those two good Orators could use, that he would not spot her honour, nor offer her husband that wrong, by committing so grievous a sin, and so heinous an offence against God. But all would not serve the turn. To cry out, was to no purpose; for there was no body there to take her part. But say her sh●…ikes might have disturbed Claudio, and have drawn the people in the street to come in, whosoever should have found her there, would questionless have condemned her for her coming thither, giving no credit to this trick that was put upon her, though she should have sworn out her heart to the contrary. She defended herself (poor soul) as well as she could; but Claudio cou●…ting her one while with many fair and kind words, and when they would not prevail, breaking forth another while into actions of violence, with a great deal of resistance, and against her will, he plucked from her by force such fruits as he could reach to, but not those that he desired; entertaining himself, and tiring out her, in this his rude wrestling with her. But in the end, when she saw that she could no longer hold out against him, and that her breath and strength did both fail her, and that the battle would be lost on her side, Claudio still getting more and more ground upon her person, she yielded up the Fort unto him, for want of succours in convenient time, having fought it out (as they say) to the last man, and keeping out the enemies as long as she could. They two, were all alone; the door fást locked; the term long, (no less than two days) Claudio, his friends about him, she a lone-woman; he strong, and she weak; and none can do more than they can do. This might have very well been said to have been a sportful contention, and an amorous combat, befitting S. john's feast, if the heaven of their pastime had not been overcast with a sudden and unexpected cloud. They fared daintily, did dine, sup, and sleep together. But this their pleasure lasted but a while, short was their content, and their rest suddenly and unexpectedly 
Proverb.  interrupted. For the 
n El diablo nunca hizo empanada, de que no quisiesse comer lafoy meyor part.  Devil never yet made that pie, whereof himself did not eat the better part. It is a usual thing with him, when he maketh any such kind of meeting, to set up a tent, or pavilion, inviting them to go into it, that there they may cover, and hide themselves, and none may know of their doings, laying a charge of secrecy and silence on their present actions; but afterwards, w●…en they are closely shut up, and kept hid from the open eye of the world, in this their greatest, and ill-conceived security, he sets the doors wid●… open, 〈◊〉, and throws these pavilions down to the ground, manifesting in public, thei●… concealed sins; and beating up his drum, and ringing out his Alarum-bell, he calls the people together, that they may come and see what they are a doing, leaving them ashamed and sad, making himself very merry to see them thus caught in his snare, and laughing and flouting at them, he mak●…s himself a Holiday in Hell, joying and triumphing in his new-gotten victory. Who would once have thought, that so subtle an invention as this was, so well ordered, and in so short a time, and by so strange a means brought about, should come to be discovered? Who, from such happy beginnings, and means, would ever have expected such adue●…se, and Tragical ends? But I say ill, and therefore correct myself: For we could look for no other, considering the dance, and who he was that led it; and heaven cannot but openly ●…unish such wickedness, and violence. And tho●…gh the punishment was not eq●…all to the offence, yet the blow was such that was given them, that thereby every good Discoursist might come to the knowledge of the fault, and repent himself thereof.  
Now whilst they were thus in their mirth and jollity, all that day passed so without account, and order, that there was no heed taken of any thing: The servants in their quarter, filled their bellies, took away the wrinkles from off their guts, by glutting themselves full, and pulling the faucets out of the hogsheads, they did eat and drink so lustily, that they were fain at last to creep to their beds, as a Cat doth 
o Yr●…as camas gateando.  up a wall, upon all four; or as a ship-boy 
Proverb.  up to the top of the mast; leaving the chimney full of fire, and a great deal of dry wood standing by it; The fire takes me hold of the brands, and other dry clefts, and they being tinded, did communicate their flames to their fellows that stood by them, so that towards midnight, all that quarter of the house was burnt, and not one body in all the house that did perceive it, so fast were they all asleep. It was the Vespers of S. john, and that night the Teniente (to see good order) useth to round the Town, and by the great splendour that the flames did cast a far off, he saw what a light it gave, and suspected (which was so indeed) that some house was on fire. And so following the clearness of this light, the brightness thereof brought them to Claudio his house. They called out aloud, and knocked hard at the gate; for the house was great, and the people that were within, some were weary, some drunk, and others burnt, but none that did answer. There was a great noise and outcry amongst the neighbours, every one seeking to prevent the threatened danger, and to provide as well as they could to save their goods and persons, many people of all sorts, and all parts of the City, came hastening and running thither, who by main force broke down the gate, and laid it level with the ground, and entered the house, supposing all those that were in it, to have been consumed with the fire, or at least choked and stifled with the smoke, because they could see no body stirring in it. The noise and clamour was such, that Claudio awaked, and startled with this so great a rumour, and confused a sound, not knowing what the matter might be, hastening with his sword in his hand, (he and Dorotea being both naked) he opened his chamber-door, and when he saw the fire, he returned back, that he might throw some thing upon him, and save himself by flight. The Teniente thought that the people that were without, had broke open that door, that they might rifle the room; hasting thither with all diligence, that he might save it from the spoil and ransacking of the more unruly rout, he found these two lovers running about the chamber, from one corner to another, to seek out their clothes, and having them in their hands, neither of them had their own, interchanging them, through their more haste, then good speed. Now you may imagine in what taking they were, and what they might think, seeing themselves thus naked, the house full of people, and her greatest enemy, the Teniente; who had thus taken them napping. But that we may come to him, who straight way knew Dorotea; whereat he was so amazed, that of all those three, you could not tell for your life, which of them was most astonished. For the Teniente, had any body told him of such a thing, he would never have been persuaded to believe it; and though he had now his own eyes to be his witnesses, yet did he seem to doubt of it. So troubled were his thoughts, so his heart inflamed with jealousies, and disdains, so mad and desperately bend, that to be revenged on them both, without any farther consideration, he commanded them to be carried away to prison; his spleen being more against Dorotea, than Claudio, for that she had rejected him, and admitted of another, and therefore was resolved to do her a disgrace, and to defame her all that he could, devising with himself, how he might likewise pick an occasion to commit her husband. For he thought it a thing impossible, that this should be done without her husband's privity, and that he had been witting and consenting to this business, and had given his wife leave to bestow a night's lodging upon this young Gallant, upon some particular interest, that might make much for his profit. Nor is it so strange, that the Teniente should take this indirect course: For a Love-passion, or passionate fit of Love, blinds the understanding, and makes the mind of man turn cruel and tyrannical. They carried her away, her face being covered over with her mantle, having given express order, that she should not be seen, or made known to any, till information should be made against her. And Claudio, he likewise was committed. And howbeit he had used all the means he could, to hinder this his harsh proceeding, alleging in excuse the great and many harms that might happen thereupon, yet neither reasons, entreaties, nor all-perswading Crowns, could allay the rage of this incensed judge, so big was his heart swollen with malice and revenge. They remained in prison, and the judge foamed at the mouth, till the fire was assuaged, and quite put out; but that of his heart did burn apace. It was now past midnight, and he had endured a great deal of trouble, but much more anger and choler. He got him to bed, and would have slept if he could; but in him was that proverb verified, which saith, 
p Assi tengays el sueno.  Assi tengays el sueno: 
Proverb.  So let him sleep, that troubles another man's rest. He could not sleep in quiet, nor is it to be believed, that he should; but rather it is to be supposed, and true it was, that transported with rage, his head was plotting of revenge, dressing this his rancorous dish of poison a thousand several ways, that they might not escape his hands, at least not come off, with the saving of their honour. But he reckoned without his 
q H. so lafoy cuenta sin la huespeda.  Host. For his feet were scarce warm in his bed, when Dorotea was out of his reach. Sabina lay in 
Proverb.  an inner chamber next unto her Masters, to the end, that if he should need any thing in the night, she might be ready at hand, when-soever he should call. And for that she had diligently listened to all that had passed, she presently bethought herself of a remedy for this disease. For your women, upon the sudden, are more quick, and nimble witted, than your men; nor must you give them leave to advise any thing long with themselves, if you mean to have it succeed well and happily. She takes me out of her lodging a good fat Capon, which was left untouched at supper, and a good piece of a gammon of bacon, which being of a wild Boar, was held to be a dainty dish, a good flagon of rich wine, a loaf or two of bread, and money in her purse, and clapping a bed, sheets, and a coverlet on her head, and bearing a little basket, wherein she had put her commodities, upon her arm, away she trugs along to the prison. She entreated the jailor, that he would give her leave to carry in that her bed and supper for one of her Master's maids, who because she had showed herself too slow and negligent, upon so urgent an occasion, in bringing a bucket to draw water for the quenching of the fire, the Teniente in his heat had committed her to prison. With this slight excuse, and four Royals of four, which she clapped in his hand, he opens the door, and lets her in, making him a hundred curtsies; howbeit by reason of the luggage which she had on her head, he could not come to see her face. In this manner, in she goes to Dorotea, whom she found rather dead then ali●…e: They two stood talking alone together, for the rest of the women-prisoners were all asleep, and taking hold on this so fair an opportunity, it so fell out, that Dorotea was transformed into Sabina, by putting on a green kirtle that she wore, who called to the Porter, that kept the prison door, and giving him the supper, that was provided for that end, told him, that the may de would neither eat any meat, nor come in any bed, until she were released. He was so joyed therewith, that he thought he had seen the heavens opened, and when he had tasted of the bacon, and found what a tart yet pleasant relish it had with it, he takes the flagon of wine in his hands, and gives it a good swigg, reserving the remainder against the next day. Whilst the Porter was making himself merry with his good cheer, Dorotea heaves up the bed upon her head, and so goes out of the prison, leaving Sabina there in her place, and with those two women that bore her company the day before, and stayed waiting for her coming forth, she was conducted by them back again to Claudio his house, where she continued till the next morning, and then accompanied with them, and some other women, she returned home to her own house, feigning that she was not half well, and therefore made the speedyer return. The Teniente growing now proud upon the matter, thinking the next morning, which was Tuesday, to execute this his revenge, Claudio in the mean while was not wanting, (being advised before hand that his Mistress was now out of his danger, and safely arrived at her wished haven) entreated a Gentleman, a friend of his, to take the pains to go and speak with the 
r The principal Magistrate, and chief Commander in Sevill, is called there by the name of Assistence.  Assistente of Sevill, and to crave so much lawful favour of him, that he would be pleased to come in person to the Court, and free him of that injury and wrong, which was so unjustly done unto him. The Teniente likewise, when he was going to sit down to dinner in his own house, going aside to the window, and looking with a devilish jealousy on those of Dorotea, he had her presently in his eye, and knew it was she, and might plainly perceive, how her husband and she sat very lovingly together eating of their dinner. He was almost beside himself, and ready to run mad, wondering with himself, how this might be. Hereupon, he presently dispatches one away to the prison, to know who had freed the woman, that he had sent thither over night. Answer was made; that she was there. Then did he beat his feet against the ground, and stamped for despite and anger, and did verily persuade himself, that he was not well in his wits, unless the other had been a dream. So that day passed on, till the next came, when (at the accustomed hour) comes me thither the Assistente himself in person attended with his two Tenientes, and when he was sat in the seat of justice, he willed that Claudio should be called forth, & the woman which was imprisoned with him. Who, when they were brought before him, and had (according to their own confession, as also the Keepers) approved themselves to be the same, there was no man there but knew Sabina was his slave, and so finding nothing to be said against them, they were set at liberty. Yet were they not so freed, but that Claudio paid sound for it; for when he came home, he found the greatest part of his house, and his goods burnt, and together with them a sister of his, one of those honest ones, that accompanied Dorotea from her house, who was found dead in the same bed with his Despensero, besides some three other of his servants. This affront to his honour (for that it was generally published throughout the whole City) did so afflict his mind, and did in that manner oppress his heart, that with the strong apprehension thereof he fell grievously sick. And not desiring his health, that he might take any worldly comfort in it, but only that he might live to do penance for this heinous sin that he had committed, by corrupting so good a creature, he recovered of his sickness, and without making any one acquainted therewith, he retired himself to the top of a mountain in a desert place, where in a holy course of life he ended his days, betaking himself to the Religious Order of Saint Francis. Dorotea remained with her husband in the same peace and love as before, and the Teniente, like a filthy fellow as he was, without Doblones, for aught that they gave him; and without revenge, for aught that he could take of them. And Bonifacio (honest man) untouched in his honour. For Sabina, and most of them that knew the affront that was done him, died within a few days after. So just is God in all his works, and so well doth he know how to punish those wrongs, that are offered to the innocent.  
With this Story, and other entertainments, to pass away the time, we were brought by a fair wind to Spain, which I had not a little longed for, for having lost our Anchors, our Ordnance, our Oars, our Helm carried away, our sails rend, and all our tackling torn, having nothing left which the Sea had not swallowed up, only I was left alive, who ought more justly to have perished. We did dis-imbarke in Barcelona, where telling my friend Captain Favelo, that I had made a vow, while we were in this storm, that I would not stay three nights in any part of Spain, till I should come to Sevill, and visit the Image of our Lady del Valle, to whom I had offered up my devotions, and made a certain promise to consecrate some thing unto her, if I should be so happy as to escape that tempest. It grieved him to the very soul, that he should lose my company, but I could not do otherwise; for I feared lest they of Genoa would come in pursuit of me in some Skiffe, or the like vessel. I bought three beasts for to carry myself and my trunks, I entertained a servant, and giving out, that I was to go my journey (no man knowing the contrary) we took our leave for ever.   
The end of the second Book of the second Part of Guzman de Alfarache.   

THE ROGVE: OR, THE SECOND PART OF THE LIFE OF GUZMAN DE ALFARACHE. THE THIRD BOOK.  
Wherein he relateth all the rest of his lewd and roguish life, from the time that he returned into Spain, till he was condemned to the Galleys, where we must leave him.  

CHAPTER I.  
Guzman de Alfarache, having taken his leave of Captain Favelo, telling him, that he was to go for Sevill, makes for Saragoca, where he peruses the statutes of Gotam College, otherwise called, The Hospital of Fools.  
WHEN a man (out of some particular end known to himself) hath a mind to grace a lie, for to 
How men use to grace their lies.  bring forth witnesses to credit his falsehoods, he seeks out a fountain, a lake, a stone, some mettle, tree, or herb, wherewith he proves his untruths, and presently allegeth for his authority, that he hath said nothing, but what stands with reason, and is made good by all those, that have any insight in natural Philosophy. And in this manner he quoteth a thousand witnesses; he being the man that tells the lie, and lays the burden of it on other men's shoulders. But I will run a contrary course to this; for I (my self not lying) shall tell you their lie; not that I affirm it to be so; but because it seems to be so. And so it ought to be taken. For that Apollonius Tianeus takes it upon himself, and says; That he hath seen a stone, called Pantaura, which is the Queen of all other stones, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 ●…ne Pant●…a.  whereon the Sun doth work in that forcible manner, that it hath all the v●…es in it, that are to be found in all other stones whatsoever that are in the world, and that it worketh the same effects: And that as the Loadstone draweth the iron unto it; so this Pantaura, attracteth all other stones unto itself, preserving that party from all kind of poison, that shall bear it abort him.  
To this stone, we may very well, and with a great d●…e of reason, compare riche●…. For see what virtue there is in all other things, the same shall we find 
Of ri●…es.  in riches. It draws all unto itself, and preserveth the possessor thereof from all manner of poison. It doth all in all; it bringeth mighty things to pass; it is a most fierce and cruel beast; it overcomes all; treads down all, that stands in its way; and commands all. It makes every thing stoop to its power; it ●…ubjcteth the earth, and all that therein is. By riches, the fiercest beasts are 〈◊〉 ●…me; no fish, though never so great, can resist riches; nor the least of fishes, that hide themselves in the concaves and hollow holes of the rocks, though overwhelmed with water, and drowned in the deep, can escape its ●…orce; nor can the fowls of the air, though of the swiftest and nimblest wing, 〈◊〉 from its Empire; it exenterates, and pulls out the very bowels from the profoundest parts of the earth, upon which the highest mountains have their foundation; and it maketh dry the most hidden sands, which the Sea doth cover in her bottomless Abyss. What altitudes, hath not it abased? What difficulties, hath not it overcome? What impossibilities, hath not it facilitated? In what dangers, hath she wanted safety? In what adversity, hath not she found friends? What thing hath she desired, which she hath not obtained? Or what Law hath she made, which hath not been obeyed? And being, as it is, so venomous a poison, that not only like the Basilisk, by being beheld by us, it killeth our bodies; but by a bare desire only (being coveted) destroyeth our souls, damning them for ever to the bottomless pit of Hell; yet she herself is a treacle to the harm we receive from her, and a counterpo●…, 
Of the use of 〈◊〉.  to that venom, wherewith she infecteth our souls and conscience, if he that possesseth riches, can (as of an Antidote, or some precious preseruat●… make 〈◊〉 use thereof. Riches, in its own nature, and in itself, hath 〈◊〉 ●…ur, 〈◊〉 knowledge, nor power, nor valour, nor any other good, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 na●…e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 punishment, nor glory, more than that, whereunto, they that do pos●…e it, do direct it. It is like unto the Chameleon, which assumeth the colour of that thing, on which it settles its self: Or of the nature of that water of the Lake Fenco; of which the Arcadians report, that he that drinketh thereof overnight, grows sick; but he that takes it after the Sun is once up, waxeth well. He that shall live in idleness, heaping up treasure by night, that is, secretly scraping a great deal of wealth together, overcharging his conscience therewith, he sure shall be sick: But he that shall use them in the day time, and show them to the light, that his works may shine before men, and that he come with a clear conscience, having the stomach of his soul empty of sin, and his conscience not ouer-clogged with worldly cares, this man shall be made whole. Neither is the rich man condemned, nor the poor man saved, for that the one is rich, and the other poor: but only because the rich man abuseth his riches, and the poor man his poverty. For if the rich man treasures up, and the poor cover, neither is the rich man rich, nor the poor man poor; 
The best and truest richer.  and both are to be condemned. But that may be called the best and the truest riches, which being possessed, is despised. Fpr riches serve only (at least should) to relieve our own necessities, to communicate with the good, and to distribute amongst our friends. The better and greater pare, which rich men have of riches, is the lester part, in regard they are so occasional in men, inciting them (especially if their hearts be once set upon them) to this, or that other 
Proverb.  sin. Ill desires, beget ill doings. Riches in its own nature, is a very sweet thing: To this, man's appetite hath a sweet tooth, and a greedy gaping after it. And as it is in the Proverb; La mançana 
a La mançana cor●…e peligro en las pujas del erizo. Of God's providence.  corre peligro en las pujas del erizo; that Apple is in great danger, that sticks on the prickles of a Hedgehogs back.  
The Divine providence (for our greater good) being to divide and distribute its gifts, not laying all the weight of them upon one side, thought good to repart them in different manner, and on different persons, to the end, that all might be saved. This Providence made both the rich and the poor. To the rich she gave temporal goods; to the poor, spiritual blessings: to the end, that the rich man distributing his riches to the poor, might thereby purchase God's favour; and so remaining both equal, might equally gain heaven; which is to be opened with a golden key; to wit, with riches, by using them 
How heaven gate is to be opened.  well: And sometimes likewise this door of heaven is to be opened with a picklock; that is, by dispensing our goods to the poor: Yet notwithstanding, doth not man, only for that he has more, thereby merit more: but because he more despiseth than desireth. For, without comparison, much more is the riches of a poor man that is contented, then of a rich man that is never satisfied. He possesseth them, that is not possessed by them; he is rich that seeks not after riches; and he hath most store, that is the least storer. This is the only man whom we may truly term rich, wise, and honourable.  
And if the wiseman would use his wisdom well, and would measure that 
Nature contented with a little.  which he hath need of, with that which he hath, nature would content itself with a little; and even in that little, would he find an overplus. But because the fool enlargeth the cord, and would embrace that which he hath, according to that which he desireth, God so order this measure, that though he had all whatsoever the world contains, yet should he still be poor. To him that 
The covetous man never contented, and therefore never rich.  is not contented, nothing is enough; To a having mind, all is too little; wanting much, by having too much. The eye of a covetous man, will never say, no more than will the Sea, or Hell, Yame's hasta. Now I have enough. Rich, and wise, shalt thou be, when thou livest so within thy compass, that he that knows thee, should admire the little, that thou hast, and the much, that thou spendest: and when it shall not cause any wonder in thee, to see what little means thou hast to live, and what great possessions other men enjoy.  
Thou seest me here now rich, very rich, and in Spain; but far worse, than 
How it fared with Guzman now he was rich.  I was before; for if before, poverty made me too impudent; why riches hath now made me too confident. If I could but have contented myself, or had I but had the temper of a well governed man, I could never have wanted; but because I neither did the one, nor knew the other, for to get money I endangered my body, and hazarded my soul. I was never contented, never satisfied, never at quiet with myself. And for that I led an idle kind of life, and was not willing to take any pains, (unless it were in roguery) I lost that with ease, which I got with much labour. I was like unto that wheel which conveys water to your Aqueducts, no sooner full, but presently empty. I cared little for money, kept it less, but alwaeys employed it ill. My money was the price of blood, it was spent upon Sepultures for dead bodies, on dead works, and worldly vices. This was the use I put it to, and therefore it is no marvel, if it thrived no better with me. Easily it came, and easily it went. And in the end I lost both it, and myself, as you shall hear hereafter.  
Flying from that mischief, that might follow me, I went out of Barçelona, 
Guzman, how he goes out of Barçelona.  forsaking the rode-way, going by bypaths from place to place, betaking myself to unknown tracks. I gave out that I was to go to Sevill, I framed excuses, to be the better believed. I talked of the Vows that I had made, and invented a thousand other lies; and for no other cause in the world, then to defeat the Spies of their purpose, and that they might not know what was become of me, nor find the pricking of the Hare, that was now so far before the hounds. The Mules were mine own, my servant a new-comer, and unacquainted with my tricks. I travailed which way it pleased me, according as my mind served 
Prou●…rbe.  me, or as it came first in my head; here to day, and to 
b Oy a qui, masiana en Francia.  morrow in France, without staying in any one set-place; and always changing my clothes: for I came not to any place where I might change my apparel, but I did it, being of no great charge, not passing a hundred Crowns or thereabouts.  
In this manner did I travail over all that Country, till I came to Saragoça, 
Guzman comes to Saragoça.  receiving no small contentment, that I was safely arrived in that noble and famous City. According as my youthfulness did prick me on, my money hold out, and the Dames did incite me, so did I continue there some few days, though all, and many more had been too little for to view and enjoy its greatness: So fair and strong were the buildings, so good the government, so 
His like, and dislike of Saragoça.  great the provision, all things so good cheap, and those reasonable rates, that me thought it had a smatch of Italy. In one only thing I found it very strange, and to my seeming, at the first sight, somewhat terrible: which was the harder for me to digest, and the worse to be endured, for that I knew not the cause of it. And it was, to see, how men, knowing the condition of those women, and that every little occasion is sufficient for them to make their longings laws, forming 
The custom in Saragoça concerning widows.  bodies of shadows, would put a bridle upon them, lest by losing that decorum & respect which they owe to their deceased husbands, assuming too much liberty unto them, they were likely to stumble on a thousand blocks, that might be an occasion of their falling, and cause them to run on headlong to the utter ruin of their reputation, which in a woman being once lost, is never again to be recovered.  
It was my hap to walk through a spacious street, which they call, the Cosso, which though it made a fair show, yet was it much graced by a handsome widow, that was young and well-favoured, and to my seeming of good both wealth and quality. I made a stand to view her; she likewise stood still, and would not away: she knew well enough of what disease I was sick, but would take no notice of it, nor made any other semblance or show unto me, then as if neither I or she had been there, or as if we had not seen one another. I made more turns about her window, than a horse doth about a Mill; (for they are not a few, that use daily the like kind of fooleries,) yet did she not show herself either coy or scornful unto me, or that she was offended with me for it. Nor did I once offer to speak a word unto her, till at last, she seeming (me thought) unto me, to wax weary of this my foolish silence: I conceived that she said to herself, what painted timbrel is this? what Piece without powder, that hath made me wait here these two long hours, and making still proffers, as though he would shoot, hath not yet discharged his musket, nor so much as once opened his mouth. With that she went her way; and I stood looking 
Proverb.  when she should return: being now fully resolved to let fly 
c Perd●…r un v●…te, p●…●…endat el 〈◊〉.  another arrow, to see if I could find the former that I had lost; but she came no more in play, and so I missed the mark that I meant to have shot at. I went home to my lodging, and demanded of mine Host, what she was; but as it were accidentally, and in a careless kind of fashion, without any the least show that I did it of set purpose, or for any interest of mine own, giving him such marks and tokens, whereby he might guess whom I meant.  
This Gentlewoman (said mine Host) is a widow, and that not one, but many ways, exceeding fair and beautiful. I would needs know of him how. He told me, so many, that every particular fairness in her, were a sufficient b●…utifying to any other woman. She is fair (as you see) in her face, she is l●…kewise ●…yre in her I i●…ge, being of the best descent in this City; she is also fry 〈◊〉 her wealth ●…es, having much of her own, and much by her husband; and abo●… all, most fair in her discretion, for therein especially doth her beauty exceed. I saw the pot 
d Tan ●…na esta la med●…da, que 〈◊〉 de vert●….  was so full, that I was afraid, it would run 
Proverb.  over; and therefore I said unto mine Host, that he might not run himself out of breath; How comes it then to pass, if she be of that rank and quality, as you say she is, that her friends and kinsfolk do give way, that such a worthy Gentlewoman, should run such a deal of hazard, as she does; for youth, beauty, riches, and liberty, can hardly walk out their stations without tripping, 
Guzman arg●…es with his Host about this custom.  if not falling. How much better and safer were it, both for them, and her, to get her another good husband, and cause her to marry, then to suffer her to live in this dangerous state of widowhood. Whereunto mine Host replied; you say well Sir, but this cannot be done, but to her great loss and hindrance; for that very day, that she shall betake herself to a second marriage, she is to lose all the estate, which she had by her former husband, which is no small matter. But continuing still a widow, she shall be usufructuary of all that he left her, and enjoy it as long as she lives.  
Then said I, O how hard a condition, how rigorous a clause is this? How much better were it to deal with this Gentlewoman, and such other as she is, as they use to do in Italy, whose husbands, when they die, leave their wives a large Legacy, disposing it in that manner, that it be paid unto them at the day of their marriage, declaring thereby, that they merely left it them to that end. And this they do, to the end that they may enjoy so great a benefit by a second marriage, whereby their state shall not only be advanced, but their honour likewise secured, which otherwise might chance to receive some scandal. I was pressing this argument a little more home unto him; but he interrupted me 
Proverb.  and answered thus unto me. Sir, hath not you worship oft heard say; En cada tierra su uso; Every 
e En cada tierra, su uso.  Country hath his custom? This goes currant here, and that in Italy. And that other I am sure is not unknown unto you; Cada loco, 
Proverb.  en su 
f Cada loco, sabe mas en su casa, que el cuerdo en el agena.  casa sabe mas, que el cuerdo en el agena; Every fool is wiser in his own house, than a wise man is in another's. Whereunto I replied; If here be no better Law than this, and if people shall suffer themselves to be governed in this manner, I know well enough what I say, I tell you plainly, I like not of it, nor can I by any means approve it. And to this end it is also said, All mal uso, 
Proverb.  quebrarle la pierna. A bad Custom is better broken then kept. The legs of it 
ᵍ Al mal uso, quebrarle la pierna. Bad customs not to be kept.  are to be broken, that it may not stand any more in force. A holy, good and just Law, aught to be grounded on reason. I am of your mind (said mine Host) but they that are more learned, than I am, would peradventure give you better satisfaction than I can. Yet in my opinion, it seemeth to carry some force with it; and I am verily persuaded, that that which moved them to make this Law, was; not that a widow might not marry, but that being a widow, she might not live in want; and to take away all occasion, left for lack of convenient maintenance, according to the condition of her quality, she might fail in her obligation, and use that ill, which was instituted for good: so that the fault is the woman's, though the punishment be the man's.  
This mine honest Host, did not half satisfy me with this (as he thought) his sound reason: whereupon, I entered into a discourse, thinking with myself, what kind of creatures these women be; who if you lead them by evil ways, they turn evil; if by good, worse; and never shall you come to know what to make of them. They 
h Muger, el mal ò el bien de su casa. Guzman discourseth of women.  are the making or the marring of their 
Proverb.  house: The establishers, or the destroyers thereof. In their running they trip, and in going they fall. And therefore their name suits well with their nature; being for this cause, called Woman, because she is a woe to man. She hath a smooth skin, but a harsh nature; a soft tongue, but a hard heart; silken words, but sowtage deeds. They seemed (me thought) unto me, (pardon the coursnes of my comparison) to be like unto straw, which if you let it stand in the field in its natural place, without laying it in such rooms, where it ought to be kept, it is preserved by the wind and rain; but if you restrain and straiten it, clapping it up close in some little private lodging, it will shoot itself out, and break through the walls; nor shall you reap any other good of it, than that sour juice which it will yield you, like unto that of the sour Orange, affording much bitterness, but no benefit. They know not how to keep a mean in their actions, and less in their love or hate: Nor ever yet could they use a moderation in their craving and desiring. That much which they receive, they think it still too little; and that little which they give, they always think it too much. They are generally covetous; yet notwithstanding all these faults, naked is that house 
i Des dichada la casa, don de 〈◊〉 faldas' faltan  where there is never a wife. All will reel, where the Reel goes not. Where there is never a 
k Donde no ay chapines, no ay cosa b●…en puesta.  white apron, there is no 
Proverb.  good order, the meat ill dressed, and the table sluttish. As the breath of man doth uphold houses, that they run not to ruin and decay; so the steps of a well governed huswife, doth preserve and multiply wealth: And as a good Chine of Bacon, makes glorious porridge; and as a man becomes the streets; so doth a 
Proverb.  woman adorn the house.  
But this is not a place to treat of their virtues. I come unto mine own, which at that time were more than the virtues of Tobacco. I continued a while discoursing with mine Host, who made me a la ge relation of many things concerning that City, as of its privileges and liberties, from which conversation of his, I received so much content, and was so attentive to his talk, that I would have forgone any other entertainment, to have enjoyed this his pleasing discourse. I may thank my sins that had brought me thither. I had taken an extreme cold in the Galley, which I was not yet well rid of; and finding my head st●…t, I plucked a handkerchief out of my pocket, and blew my nose, which I h●…d no sooner pulled thence, but I opened it, and looked thereupon, as if that Oyster had afforded me a pearl, it being the manner and fashion of that Country so to do, (contrary to the rule of good manners) being a no less slovenly, then common trick amongst them.  
The crafty Rogue mine Host, perceiving why I did it, and that I made, as it were, a sc●…ffe of their customs, being a good speaker (as he was) a proper handsome fellow, and a pleasant; speaking in a low voice, and nodding his head towards me, softly said unto me; Fly, Sir, fly; Hide yourself, as soon as you can: Quickly, quickly, I say. Poor and miserable man that I was, O these his words, how ill did they sound in mine ears! O how my heart was 
Guzman, put into a n●…edlesse fear by mine Hosts means.  scorched with them, like the Partridge that is first singed in the fire, and afterwards to be put presently on the spit! My feathers were singed, and my pride abated. He had scarce made an end of his words, when at two leaps, I had got me behind the curtains of the bed. He being ignorant of my villainies, thought that I had done this innocently, and out of simplicity, as being startled with the suddenness thereof: and so instantly breaking out into a loud laughter, he merrily said unto me; I perceive, Sir, you are not troubled with the Gout: by my faith Sir, you are a nimble active Gentleman: your Worship may now come forth, if you please; as God would have it, it is nothing: the storm is past, the coast clear, and you may safely show yourself upon the hatches. I came forth from thence as pale as ashes, my colour was quite gone, and death appeared in my face; and did much wonder at myself, considering the g●…eat fear and pe●…turbation I then was in, that the sudden astonishment, and the aff●…ight i●… had put me into, had not made me to leap out of the window into the street.  
I came out at last, but whether more amazed, or ashamed, I cannot tell you; but I sought to dissemble it the best I could, that I might not raise up that dust which might chance to put out mine eyes. Being now come again to myself, I asked him what was the mystery of this, and what he meant by it: I pray Sir said he, content yourself, rest you quiet, and give me presently two shillings from you. I put my hand in my pocket, and threw him forth a Royal, and when I saw he was quiet, having by this time laughed himself weary, I began afresh to ask him, why he demanded two shillings of me, and what was that, that had passed before, when he bid me fly, and go hide myself? He falling into a new vain of laughing, louder than before, looking cheerily and merrily upon me, said unto me: Sir, I have here a Procuration substituted by the Administrators of an Hospital, for the recovering of certain duties and rights of those, which come to my house, which I am to challenge of them, if they commit any forfeiture, contained in the said Procuration. From this time forward, your Worship may go over all the world by virtue of these my Letters Patent, without any farther molestation to your person, or your purse. With this Royal, you have paid for your entrance, and have free licence to be gone, when you list. When I heard him tell me this, what with that was 
A tale of a Gentlewoman, that married with a new Christian.  past, and what with this present gamball, I was so confounded therewith, that that might be said to me, which was to a Gentlewoman, that is well known, who having matched herself with a new Christian, for that he was rich, and she poor; who being with child by him, and finding herself (it being the first that she had gone withal) out of ease, and in much pain, talking with another Gentlewoman that was an acquaintance and friend of hers; she said unto her; In good faith, I find myself so ill, that I know not what to say unto it. I was never in my life, in that 
l Tene●… el judio en el ●…uerpo That is; estar con miedo: To be in a great fear. Covarr. verb. judio, pag. 492.  jewish taking, as I am now in. No marvel 
Proverb.  (said the other) having a jew within you; and bearing him about you (as you do) in your body. And in good faith, myself (like this Gentlewoman) was in that fear at that time, that if mine Hosts laughing and jesting with me, had not quickly rid me of this doubt, I verily believe, I should have fallen down dead for fear. His breath, put breath into me; his liveliness, life: And seeing him thus set upon the merry pin, I said unto him; 
m A common oath, or asseveration in Spain: English, Body of me.  Cuerpo de mi: As I am an honest man; since I have paid the penalty, I will know, by your leave, what is the fault I have committed. For that judge's sentence is rigorous and unjust, that shall condemn me in charges, for that which I never did, and shall not give me a discharge for it. For it may be, that both parties being heard, my money may be returned me back again. Because your Worship (says mine Host) seems to be a worthy discreet Gentleman, I will read unto you a bede-roll of such statutes as I have here for the recovery of those amercements, and those penalties, wherewith they are to be punished, who incur the danger of them. This Royal is a fee, that goes to the Beedle for your entrance. Only I shall entreat your Worship to have the patience to stay a while, till I shall go run, and fetch it you. He went his way, and returns again in a trice, bringing a great book with him under his arm, wherein he said, he did set down the admittance, or matriculation of those that were made free of that Incorporation, and taking out some few sheets of paper, that lay loose in the book, he began to read some of their statutes and ordinances, whereof I will repeat such unto you, as remain in my memory, with a protestation which I make unto you, to acquaint you with those few hereafter, which shall occur to my remembrance. And they speak after this manner.  
The statutes and constitutions of Gotam College, OR The Hospital of Fools.  
WE REASON, absolute Monarch, and sole Sovereign of the world, not acknowledging any superior, or in any sort equal unto us, for the redressing and reforming of men's manners, against the obstinate and perverse wilfulness of folly, and all other her wickedness, which hath taken such deep root, and multiplied itself in that abundance, to our notable hurt and detriment, the prejudice of our Royal prerogative, and the great damage of all mankind; for to avoid those greater inconveniences, which the corruption of so dangerous and spreading a canker may cause, that it may not creep more and more upon our loving subjects (whose welfare and safety we tender as our own) and that it may not dilate itself any farther, to their utter undoing, and final destruction; We will and command, have and do ordain, as also do publish and proclaim these our Laws, to all those that are already borne, or shall be borne hereafter in succeeding ages, by the power of our Regal authority, and by the general consent of our Council of State, that they be taken and held for such, as are now by us established and confirmed, and that they be punctually kept, religiously observed, and fully cumplyde withal, both in all, and every the least point or parcel, herein specified, or contained, as you will answer it to your peril, and incur that grievous punishment, which to those that shall violate and infringe these our Laws, is in that case provided.  
Moreover, because the first thing that we are in our princely care to consider of, is, that all due, fitting, and convenient provision be made, for the quick expedition, and good execution of justice, we in our wisdom have thought it meet, to nominate and appoint certain Officers, of good both sufficiency, and trust, such as shall be requisite and needful for this so weighty and important a business, And therefore we do depute, nominate, and assign for judges, good Policy, Curiosity, and Solicitude; to the end, that they, as if it were us ourself, and as representing us in our own proper person, may truly and uprightly administer justice, giving them by virtue of our power, full, & plenary authority, to apprehend, set at liberty, and punish, any manner of person, or persons whatsoever upon just cause, referring our said judges to be ordered and directed by these our laws and ordinances, and not to differ from the true intent and meaning of them, to the damnifying of the subject, and the dishonouring of us. Furthermore, both for the present, & ever hereafter, do we substitute as elder Brothers of this Fraternity, & chief Wardens of this Incorporation, all those that be jealous observers, every one according to his place and merit, and he that shall be most jealous, shall be most honoured. Our Attorney General, shall be Diligence, and our Beadle, that shall warn them to the Court, shall be Fame.  
First of all therefore, any person, or persons, that shall go walking and talking 
1  to themselves in the streets, or shall do the like, when they are all alone, or at home in th●…ir private houses, we condemn them for fools for three mon●…ths, within which term of time, we will and command, that they abstain therefrom, and reform this their foolery. And in case, they shall not amend this fault, our pleasure is, that for the better accomplishment thereof, they have a longer and more peremptory time set them down, of some three Terms, or more; within which limited time, they shall bring in a certificate of their said reformation and amendment, upon pain of being held for approved, attainted, and convicted fools, and accordingly command our foresaid elder Brothers, and Ancients of the Company to bring in their evidence, & to find them guilty, & to see them afterwards severely punished, as violaters & breakers of our Laws.  
Item, They that shall walk through any public or private place, that is paved 
2  with brick, or with stone, and shall go with a great deal of care and study, pitching either their toes, or their heels, in such a direct line, side, or corner of the said bricks, or stones, shall be condemned in the same punishment as aforesaid.  
Item, They that walking along the streets, casting their cloak under one arm, and stretching out their hand, or their finger, shall go, as they pass 
3  along, either patting the wall, or making streaks, and Indentures with their finger's ends, let them be admitted scholars of our said House or College; provided always, that they have six months of approbation granted unto them; In which time, we command them to be reform. Otherwise, and in default thereof, we have already ordained, and do now ordain; That the Warden, Sub-warden, or Deane of this our College, and in their absence, the Seniorfellow, put his coat upon him (according to the custom of the House) his cap, and his babble, and other ornaments belonging to his degree, and ever afterwards be held a professed fool.  
Item, They that shall play at bowls, or at billiards, when they have thrown out their bowl, if by chance it shall run awry, and that they with it, shall also 
4  wry their body; thinking, that which way they lean, the bowl should run inclining to that side, and govern itself, as they direct it with these their mimic gestures, shall dye in this their sin; and we must declare them for brothers already professed. And we further command, that the like be also understood of those, who use the like Apish action, seeing something fall down from some high place to the ground, shrinking their shoulders, wrying their mouths, or turning up the whites of their eyes. And likewise of those, who having vizards on their faces (as in masks and revels) shall under those, go making of strange gesticulations, either by frowning, or smiling, or biting of the lip, as if in so doing, it did really and truly seem unto them, that these variations, and alterations of their countenances, were taken notice of by some outward appearance, when as being thus masked, it is impossible, that any inward gesture of theirs should be outwardly discerned. And of those, who do counterfeit and imitate the like, not knowing whether they do the same or no. Or if in cutting out some thing with a bad pair of shears, or with a dull-edged knife, or taking pains with any the like untoward instrument, they shall draw their mouth on t'one side like a Plaice; lil out their tongue, like a Calf; wrinkle up their cheeks, forehead and eyes, like a scorched piece of parchment, and such Idiot-like postures, our will and pleasure is, that they in like manner, shall take the degree of fools.  
Item, They, who expecting their servant, (having sent him forth on an errand) if in case he be somewhat long a coming, shall stay waiting for him at 
5  the doors, or windows of his house, thinking that by his staying there for him, he will make the more haste, and come the sooner, we condemn all such to retract and acknowledge their error, upon pain, that in case they shall refuse so to do, they be severely proceeded against.  
Item, They that draw their cards with a great deal of leisure, seeking by degrees, by a little & a little, to discover at this, or that other corner, first whether 
6  it colour right, and afterwards, discoursing and arguing the case, whether it be such or such a card, they themselves knowing for certain, that for all this their laborious lingering and delay, they shall never a whit the sooner encounter, or miss, then if they had presently taken it up, and made show thereof, as soon as it was dealt into their hand; we condemn them to the same acknowledgement, as aforesaid. And for some causes moving us thereunto, we have thought fit, to give them free leave and licence, without incurring any farther penalty, to follow their ancient custom; but with this condition; That as oft, as he, or they, offending in this manner, shall see an Ancient of the house, or pass by his chamber door, he shall make an acknowledgement of this his error, by putting off his hat.  
Item, They that are gotten up into some upper room, and either sitting or standing in some window, or open gallery, shall from thence spit down; whether 
7  it be thereby to take (as it were with a plummet) the evenness of the building; or to see, if he can make his spittle to light just upon such a stone, or some one mark or other, which his eye hath chosen out; we strictly charge and command them, that they retract and reform this their folly, and that upon short warning, upon pain of being taken for public professors of the same.  
Item, They who travailing upon the way, shall inquire of those passengers, 
8  whom they meet withal, how far it is to such a baiting-place, or to such a Town, thinking, that by this their ask, they shall the sooner reach unto it, we condemn them in the like penalty, enjoining them for penance, the badness of the way, the Carrier's iading of them, and mine Hosts cozening of them: Not inflicting any greater punishment, out of the hope of their amendment.  
Item, They who when they make water, go streaking the walls with their 
9  urine, as if they were busy about some curious delineations, or framing some Antick-figures, or shall piss in the dust, making I know not what scattering angles, and Circles; or in some chink in a wall, or little hole in the ground; We will and command, that they do so no more, upon pain (in case they shall persevere therein) to be punished by their judge, and delivered over to an elder Brother, or one of the Ancients of the House.  
Item, They who when they hear the clock strike, count not the hours, but ask others, what's a clock; it being more fit and facile for them, to tell it 
10  themselves. Which carelessness of theirs, proceedeth often times from the abundance of a choleric kind of humour; We therefore, strictly charge and command all such, that they have an especial care of their health, and in case they be poor, and not able to be at the charge of physic, that then one of the Masters of our Hospital, cause them to be carried thither, giving order that some preparatives be provided for them of wild Cherries, or sharp sour Orange, lest otherwise they might run the danger of losing their wits, and quickly turn either fools, or mad men.  
Item, They who have but a little meat before them, and many mouths a going, shall divert themselves from their feeding, to entertain the company with 
11  this tale, or that d●…scourse, taking more pleasure (like a sort of prattling fools as they are) to fill other men's ears, than their own bellies; by which means they often rise a hungered: For as much, as these are died in the will, and come ready dressed to our hands, we remit them to be registered amongst your incurable fools. And therefore command, that there be an especial care taken of them. For these are in the 7th degree, and are almost in their full height to be taken.  
Item, They who out of covetousness, or any other cause or reason whatsoever, so as they be not driven thereunto of force and necessity, (for in such cases, 
12  Laws are not to be kept) when they go to market, buy the worse sort of victuals for the saving of their purse, and spending the less in their houses; as if a Physician, an Apothecary, or a Barber-Surgeon (who all the year long come to your houses, to cure those diseases, which were caused by bad and unwholesome meats) were not dearer by much, than any the best meat they could buy: We condemn them to a general disgrace of themselves, declaring them (as before declared) to be professed fools; forbidding them from henceforth to do the like, upon pain of being committed over to the Curate, Sexton, or Grave-maker of his, or their Parish, to be punished either more, or less, according to the hurt that shall grow thereby.  
Item, They who in the summer-nights, as also some in the winter, sit, or stand, till their breech, or their feet ache, in some open Court or Tarasse, gaping and 
13  gazing on the heavens, and from the clouds of the air, go forming the figures of Serpents, and the shapes of Lions, and so of other beasts, we pronounce and declare them to be brothers of this Fraternity: But if in this kind of sort, or the like manner, they shall thus entertain themselves with these babbles, that they may thereby, give place and time in their own houses, assome use to do for their own interest and private gain, that they may see the sign of Taurus, Aries, and Capricorn, which is a most foul and dishonest case, we condemn them (though accounted of the Brotherhood) not to be capable of the privileges thereof, nor that they be admitted into their Senate-house, nor that they have any wax lights allowed them on Festival days.  
Item, They who wearing either black shoes, or white, or of any other coloured 
14  velvet, shall, for to take away the dust from them, or to give them a better glass, make them clean with their cloak, as if that were not of a more noble and better condition, and much more costly, and that for to make them clean and handsome, they shall leave that foul and dusty, we condemn them for neat fools. And in case they be Noblemen, for their greater honour, we will have them to be taken for three-piled fools.  
Item, They who having past some few days, without seeing their friends and 
15  acquaintance, when afterward, meeting one another by chance, they say each to other; Are you alive Sir? Is it possible, that there should be any such man upon the face of the earth? Which notwithstanding that it be a kind of endearing of a man's love, yet must we have them enrolled amongst the rest, being there are other more proper forms of salutation, without ask a man, whether he be upon earth, or alive, when as he was never yet in heaven, and sees him stand just before him. And we farther will and command, that all such have a sign, or mark of Admiration, set upon them; and that (during our pleasure) they never go without it.  
Item, They who after the hearing of Mass, and when they have made an end of their Ave-maries', at the tingling of the bell, or at any other hour, when a 
16  sign is given in the Church, that Service is ended, shall say to such a one; I kiss your hands Sir, howbeit this phrase of speech is supposed to be no other than an acknowledgement of thanks, the other having bowed his body towards him, or given him the good day, or good night; yet notwithstanding we condemn them for fools, and command them to abjure this manner of speaking, upon punishment that they shall carry this name with them to their grave, and while they live, be pointed at for their folly, for that they more esteem of a false and lying beza 'las manos, I kiss your hands (which they never kiss, nor would kiss them, though they were the Bishop's hands, and much less those of other inferior persons, whereof some have them full of scabs, of scurf, or leprosy, and other some, with nails either ready to drop off, or full of 
n The Spanish word is; Vn̄●…s cayreladas. The French renders it, Ongles si lanterns, & si salement colorez.  dirt, looking like Caviary, that they would be ready to turn a man's stomach) then to say, God give you good night, or good morrow. And the like command, we lay upon those, who make answer with the like salutation, at another man's sneezing, when they may as well say, God bless you.  
Item, They who come to a man's house to inquire for him, and ask whether 
17  he be within, or no; it being answered unto him, or them, that he is not within, but is gone abroad, return a second time to reply: Is he then gone abroad? we condemn them as rebels, and contumacious people, for repeating that demand, whereof they had already satisfaction.  
Item, They who having hit their shin, or their toes against some sharp stone, by stumbling unawares upon it, and with a great deal of phlegm, and full of 
18  choler, return back again to look upon it at leisure with a fixed eye, and a troubled mind, we condemn them in the same penalty, and command them, either to remove it out of the way, or that they do not offer to look upon it, upon pain of farther increasing their punishment.  
I●…e, They, who blowing their nose, in the taking away of their handkerchief, 
19  look steadily upon it, and pry into it, as if some pear'es had dropped from thence, and that they would safely lap them up for fear of losing, we condemn the●… for brothers of our said foundation, and that as oft as they shall offend in this fault, they give an alms to the Hospital of incurable ●…les, grounding our reason of this ●…ulct upon this, that they shall hereafter have others do ●…s much for them.  
When he was come thus far, me thought he wanted only the bell to toll him off. I was ready to burst my heart with laughing, and the bede-roll was so long, that I would not suffer him to go on any further, and therefore interrupting him in his reading, I said unto him; Now (my good Host) seeing you have done me the favour to advise me of these things, that I may thereby know how to correct my errors; tell me I pray you, whereabouts this Hospital is, who is the Principal, and what lands and rents belong unto it. Sir (said mine Host) for that there are so many diseased and sick persons, and that the Hospital is incapable, and poor, considering the few that are well, and the many that are sick; it was agreed upon, that they should change their lodgings and be scattered up and down in diverse other places, so that now all the world in a manner appertains to this Hospital. Where then (said I unto him) shall those discreet and wise men, that remain yet untouched, be so conveniently lodged, that they may be out of the danger of this infection? Hereunto he made answer, I hear (Sir) that there is but one only man in all the world, that is free from this contagion; but as yet I could never learn who that one should be. Every particular man, thinks that he is this sound party, but few, besides himself, will believe it.  
The certainest news that I can give you hereof, is, That there is a great Engineer lately found out, that will undertake to put into an eggshell, as many as shall be absolutely free of this disease, and does farther make offer, that together with their persons, he will likewise thrust into the said eggshell, all their goods, lands, and rents, and that notwithstanding all this, they shall have so much elbowroom, that they shall scarce touch one another. I could hold no longer, but must needs tell him; This (mine Host) is a malicious interpretation, and a matter of mere waggery, and no less large than the Hospital itself. But, being well considered, I find that it is very true; in regard we are all of us but men, and have all sinned in our father Adam. Our conversation had continued somewhat longer, and we should have made an end of reading of the statutes of the said house, if the night had not hasted away so fast. Besides, I had a great desire to have another fling at the widow, and did long to fetch a turn or two before her lodging, to see how the world went there. So leaving the rest to the next days reading, I willed my servant to bring me a 
Guzman goes by night abroad about the City.  very gallant suit of clothes, which I had in my trunk, and taking my sword under mine arm, I went out of the house, and walked about the City, seeking my fortune. I went stalking through those streets in a careless kind of fashion, with a mind so well ●…sed, and a heart so contented, that I would not have changed my present state, with any Prince in Christendom; thinking myself to be such a tall fellow of my hands, that no man was able to stand in my way.  
At the winding of a corner, where two streets met together, and made a cross, I met with a couple of young wenches, the one was a reasonable handsome 
He meets with two w●…s.  one, and might very well have served the turn; the other, seemed to be her servant. I made towards them, and they did not step aside; I stopped them in their way, and they stood still. I began to talk and discourse with them, and they with me, and in that kind and courteous manner, that I was as it were ravished with their company. I could not put any question to this Gentlewoman, whereunto she had not a ready answer; she would not give an inch of her ground, nor let any Card that came from me, pass without a Vye. There was not any one word, that could come amiss to her. I went about to dis-inwrap her hands of her mantle, that I might come to touch them; but the crafty hyleding, seeming somewhat squeamish, straining courtesy, did in a pretty kind of fashion feign a defending of herself from that friendly violence, yet did she not make any great hasty retreat, but did suffer me to come on in that cunning manner, and was so nimble fingered withal, that in that short space of time, that I was busying my hands about her face, and her breast, she with hers was not idle, but putting them into my pocket, took thence that little, that I had. I was hot upon the business, and in this heat of mine, I had no feeling 
His w●… cousin's him.  of this ache; nor had it been possible for me to have been sensible of it, had I taken the best care, that I could. For, at such times, and upon such fits, our memory, and our understanding fails us, only our will is then occupied. She had no sooner made her market, and ●…ript me of a matter of some hundred Royals, but she said unto me; enough (good Sir) I beseech you no more, for God's sake, leave off while it is well, and do that (as you love me) which I shall advise you unto: Let me then entreat you Sir, that you will have the patience to stay a while at the turning of this street, through which you saw us now come, for the next house save one, at the end of this street, is mine; we go but a little ways off here, to fetch a piece of work, that I have put forth to doing, I shall make no stay, but come back by and by, and be instantly with you. We will not tarry scarce the turning of your hand, and then you shall go in with me into my house; for there lodges no body, but I, and my maid, and there you shall see I will be at your service, as you shall be pleased to command me; besides, you shall hear me sing, and play in that manner, that you never heard a sweeter voice, nor saw a better or quicker hand upon a Virginal. Get you thither (my dear) whither I have directed you, that you may not be seen to have come along with me; for I am a married woman, of honourable parents, well reported of by my neighbours, and generally well thought of, and I would not willingly lose this their good opinion; yet you seem unto me to be a a gentleman of that quality and nobleness, that I would willingly hazard both my person, my reputation, and whatsoever else is dearest unto me, for your sake. I believed her in all that she had said; and did now think myself as cocksure of her, as if I had had her already between mine arms. I did as she commanded me, standing close upright against the corner, where I continued from half hour past eight of the night, till the clock had struck eleven, and ever now and then me thought I had a glimpse of them, and that I saw the bulks of them a far of, making towards me, but I might as well have stayed there till this day, for any coming again of theirs. The devil a Mistress, or maid of them, that I could see any more. When I saw that it was so late, and that they stayed so long, I imagined with myself, that she had some Gallant to her servant, and that she being gone to his house, he would not give her leave to return. For the which I did blame her, but not much; for myself would have done the like by her, if she had come once within my doors. I persuaded myself, that she could not help it; and that it was not in her hands to do as she would: and said to myself; Aun, seran buenas mangas, despues de Pascua: It is no great matter; A pair of 
o Buenas' son mangas, despues de pascua. The meaning whereof, is, when that which we desire, comes to us somewhat later than we could have wished it. Covarr. verb. mangas.  sleeves, will not do amiss after Easter. What 
Proverb.  is not to day, may be to morrow: and as good then as now. There are more days in the week than one; as there are more fingers than one, on the hand. Thus goes the world; one day follows on the 
p Vn dia, viene tras otro.  neck of another; but it is the fashion of it, To be all for the present. I took notice of the door against another time, and went walking along another way, as I was led along by my desires. Anon after, I returned thither again, whither when I was come, all was very hush and quiet; there was no memory nor sign of any one body in all that street, nor at any door or window, any noise to be heard, nor any nose, no not so much as of a dog, or of a cat, that peeped out. I stood prying and watching from one side to the other; I fetched many turns, I caught, hauked, 
Proverb.  and spit; I made a noise with my feet, but all in vain, and to no purpose in the world. In the end, having stayed there a great while, and being now grown weary with walking, as well as with expectation, I was resolved to get me home to mine Inn, as despairing of any good hopes for that night: Which as I was about to do, I might espy from a little window, a countenance, which 
Guzman talks with a wench from a window.  by its interpreter, the tongue, seemed to be a woman's, who had thrust out her head at a little window, whose face I could not see, or if I had, I could not give you an account thereof, for that it was so dark. I began to talk youthfully to her, (or rather foolishly, for such kind of parlays are but fooleries,) but she told me that she was none of those I looked after, marry she had a maid, that I might happily make love unto, that was a drudge of the kitchen, and scoured her pots and her pans. But be she, as she may be; what ever she were, she spoke so well, and entertained me so for the time, that I quite forgot myself for the space of two hours that we interchanged talk, all that long while seeming unto me but one short minute. But lo, (if it offend not thine ears,) whilst we were thus prattling, comes out a devilish cur, one of Belzebubs whelps, which as it should seem, flew eagerly forth of one of the neighbour's houses thereabouts, & fell a barking and bawling so loud, that it was not possible for us to hear or understand one another: The window was high, the woman spoke very low, there was a pretty fresh wind abroad, and the dog did so lay on, and spend his mouth so fast, that being willing to remedy that fault, I groaped with my feet for a stone, that I might throw it at him, and not finding any, I cast down mine eyes to the ground, and I might perceive near unto the wall, a little copped black thing, which I took to be a stone. Presently I catcht it up in my hand, but it was not a stone, nor nothing so hard; but had 
How Guzman was besmeared.  quickly found that I had be-smeared my fingers; I sought hastily to shake it off, and giving a flirt with my hand to fling it away from me, I gave my fingers ends such a smart jerk against the wall, that I was much pained therewith; and to case the tingling that I had in my nails, I clapped my fingers to my mouth ere I was aware: but I forthwith repented me of what I had done. My often spitting would not mend the matter, and therefore I sought for help with my other hand from my pocket, thinking to take thence my handkerchief; but there was no such thing to be found. This struck me into my dumps, and made me melancholy, to think how the scurvy harlotry had coney catcht me. And I was so angry besides, to see how my mouth, and my hands were inammeled, that with very choler, my eyes were ready to start out of my head; my guts were likewise in a good forwardness to have leapt out of my mouth, being upon the point to vomit out of my stomach all that I had within me, as those women use to do, that have a fit of the Mother. And the more to anger me, this scurvy cur did so persecute me with his bawling, that my Gentlewoman was forced to withdraw herself, and to shut to her window, and I driven to look out some thing, to rid me of this odious and filthy stink. I rubbed my teeth against the wall, as well as I could, thinking that way to do myself good. Well, when I saw it would be no better, I returned in a great rage to my Inn, with purpose to return the next night to the same place, to see if I could by chance meet with that good wench, that had sold me this Greyhound.   

CHAP. II.  
Guzman de Alfarache goes from Sarago●…a, and comes to Madrid; where he turns Merchant, and is married. He breaks his credit, and turns bankrupt. He treats of women's subtle tricks. And of the inconvenience of counter-writings; and of their remedy.  
AS soon as I came home, I got me to the well, and feigning that I would refresh myself there a while, (because I would not have my servant acquainted with this disgraceful accident) I wil●…'d him to draw me up two buckets of water. Which when he had done; with the one, I washed my hands, and with the other my mouth, having almost rubbed off the skin from either, and yet did not rest contented and fully satisfied of myself, I had taken such a villainous conceit of this filthy odour, or rather ordure. I could not fall asleep for my life, nor settle myself to rest all that night, for thinking on that truth which the wench had told me, that I should never while I lived meet with a quicker or a nimbler hand. See now whether she lied or no? I am sure I shall never forget her words, so good cause have I to remember them, for that which fell out afterwards. The Gracian Helen (I assure you) nor the Roman Lucretia, cannot be more, or 〈◊〉 remembered by others, than she by me. And yet, when I was thinking on her, the others conversation would seek to put that out of my head, one seeking to thrust out the other, so that I was as it were distracted between them both. I would have had them (like nails) to have driven out one another, that I might have heard no more news of them. And when I began to shut the door of my remembrance to these, this same scurvy copped pebble stone came flying in at a by-window, the very conceit whereof, began afresh to turn my stomach. What a bad night must we needs make of this, having to do with so many? For if 
q Duero. Rio famosissimo en Espana. Por el qual se dixo. yo soy Duero, que todas las aguas bevo. Covarr. v●…rb. Duero.  Duero, did compass me in on the one side; Penatajada, did girt me in on the other. But when my hat was come to its colour, & that I had considered a little better on the business, I said with myself; If this poor trick (not for any great hurt that it did do me, but only for that it was a trick put upon me) I can thus hardly digest, and that it makes my stomach to rise, as oft as I think upon it; how will my kind kindred in Genoa, digest those gudgeons, that they swallowed? how brook that famous jest, which sticks so close to their ribs? If such a 
r Quando aqueste assi duel, que hara con guindas?  toy as this, a mere trifle, not worth the talking of, move 
Proverb.  my patience so much, how would it have wrought upon me, had it been a matter of moment? Thus did I pass away the night, thinking one while on 〈◊〉, another on that; what I should do with myself the next day, how bestow my time, what clothes I should wear? or whether I were best to put on my great chain, which I kept in store for high Holidays, and great Feasts? ●…hat part of the Town I should quarter out? what words I should speak, to move her affection? or what present I should send her, to oblige her unto me? Then throwing all these things out of my mind, as if they had never been in my thought, I should run by and by back again (like a giddy-headed Spaniel) beating and questing upon the old haunt, saying to myself: If it should be my good hap, to meet with this young crafty harlotry to morrow, what shall I do unto her? Shall I lay hands on her? No: Shall I take that from her, which she filched out of my pocket? Neither: What shall I do then? Shall I crave her better acquaintance, and desire her friendship? Lest of all. Embracing therefore none of these, I advised with myself, and said; Why should I trouble myself to seek after her? To what end? I know the goodness of her hand already, and how quick & nimble her fingers be, be it for Virginal, Harp, or any thing else that you will put them to. Let her go; God be her good speed; and much good may it do her with them, 
s Alla se lo aya Marta con sus pollo●…. Los pollos de Marta, piden pan, y dan les agua Marta la piadosa, etc. Covarr. pag. 541.  Allase lo aya Marta consus pollos: I could wish they 
Proverb.  had been more for her sake. Well may she thrive with them. For if she had not stood in need of them, and been in want, I assure myself, she would never have put herself to so much danger. I began to look a little better into myself, and when I had well considered what I was, and knew mine own condition, and the courses that I had run, I whispered myself in the ear, and said; What complaints will not the butcherly Wolf frame against the poor silly Lamb, accusing him of troubling the water when he ca●…e to drink, that he might pick a hole in his coat? A lusty strong M●…le can hardly carry the gold, the silver, the pearl, the precious stones, and the jewels, which I had parloynd, and come clear away with them out of Italy, and yet stick not to find fault with this poor soul, for a thing of nothing, that she took from me, being perhaps urged thereunto out of mere necessity. O the miserable condition of men! how apt, and how easy are we to complain●…? O how much a do, do we make about a little! How take on, as though we were undone! What a little loss, and what a deal of lamentation? O the immense and infinite goodness of God! How much do we offend thy divine Majesty? How little reckoning do we make of it? and yet how easily dost thou forgive us our offences? What vassalage, and base subsection is that, which men do y●…eld to their own passions? And because the best of things, is the curbing of them, and to make use of them in their time and place; I know very well, and am able from thence to read this lecture both to myself and others; That we ought to have as much compassion of those that offend, as we have cause to envy those that forgive. For mine own part, I will follow this lesson: Let her make herself merry therefore with the money she got from me; for I forgive her with all my heart.  
Now whilst I was thus discoursing with myself, the day began to break. The light, by little and little, had crept in through some chinks of the windows, when together with it, a little sleep likewise came creeping upon myself, being willing to have my senses clogged with those soft-lined fetters, in which I lay fast till nine of the clock, and slept so sound, that I could not say; This mouth is mine. Nor was I so glad that I had slept so well, as that I found myself thereby the better disposed to watch the night following, without being bound to pay that debt to nature, when my game was at the fairest, if fortune should chance to favour me so much, as to offer me a fair occasion, to finish what I had begun. I rose up well satisfied, wishing the hour were come, wherein I might go to that desired place. I made me ready, and went to Mass, and visited the Image of our Lady of 
* pillar de Saragoça, One of the famousest Charches in the world, for that our blessed Lady appeared there to the Apostle S. james, and willed him to build a Church there to her honour. Padre Pin●…da lib. 10. Monar. Eccles. cap. 25. sect 4.  pillar, which is one of the greatest devotions, that is in Christendom. I spent that day in walking up and down; I saw my Widow, who came to the window, to wash her hands. I could have wished, that those drops of water, which fell from her snowy fingers, would have trickled down upon my heart, to see if they would have been able to quench the fire, that flamed in my breast. I had not the face to speak a word to her: No not so much as, God save you.  
I stood leaning against the corner of a wall, putting myself in a good handsome posture, looking on her with a wanton eye, a cheerful look, and a smiling countenance. And she likewise smiled, and talking with her servants, who attended there on her, after she had washed, they carried away the towel, the basin, and the ewer, which when they had set them aside, they put their heads out at the window, and looked upon me. I having received this favour, thought I had now brought my business to an end. I stretched out my legs, and my breast, 
The Spanish posture, when they court their Mistress.  and lifting up my head, and bearing up my neck somewhat stiff, I made two or three short turns, throwing one corner of my cloak over my shoulder, setting my hat on t'one side, laying my left hand on my sword, and resting the right on my side, treading my steps in state, and turning my rolling eyes upon her, I walked ley surely before her window, my eye being never off on her. Whereat they laughed a good; and I rested well contented. They made themselves merry, and I was very well pleased. I assumed so much liberty to myself, and behaved myself so boldly, as if I had already obtained what I desired; and as though the doors and windows of the house had of purpose been set open for me to enter in. And all the while I was using this Courtship, and performing this my Love-exercise, she stood me still, and did not once offer to wag from the window.  
Many Gentlemen past that way, well clad, young, able, and handsome: yet in my judgement, none of them like to me, neither in apparel nor person. In every one of them I could have found one fault or other; but in me, there was nothing to be excepted against. One came short in the handsome shape and feature of his foot; another wanted a well made leg, the calf was too little, or the small too big; some were too tall, and othersome too low; some too fat, and others too lean: This, went a little limping; that, awry. All had one blemish or other; I only, was complete; I was I pierce I; I was like a Rule, without exception. All in me, was in true Mood and Figure; In a full and perfect symmetry, having a just and even proportion of every particular part, in respect of the whole frame. And being of best both grace and favour in my person, I was graced and favoured more by her, than all the rest: for she did not show them the like countenance, as she did me.  
Night drew on, she left the window, but before she withdrew herself, she turned her eyes towards me, and so went in. I hied me home to my lodging, being rich in hopes, and musing upon that which in this case was fittest to be done: Mine Host came to me to keep me company; but because I took no content in any thing but my contemplations, I entreated him to hold me excused, for that I had business to go abroad. I supped, and taking my sword with me, I went out of doors in pursuit of my business: you shall see how evil is 
Proverb.  man's inclination: For notwithstanding that I had made, (as you have heard) that discourse with myself, in favour of that woman, which had cozened me of a few Royals, and had put on a resolution to let it pass, and never to think more of it; yet my thoughts were much troubled therewith, and like so many Bryez or horseflies, did make me kick and stamp against my former determination, and would not let me be in quiet, but that I must needs go and seek her out. Whereupon, I gave that night a hundred turns about the very self same street, having a conceit with myself, that it would be my good hap to light once more luckily upon her in the same manner as before. But not knowing well why, for what cause, or to what end I did it, but walked idly there up and down, till the hour was come. I had waited long, and when I saw to what little purpose, I thought to make homewards towards my lodging: and as I entered into the Cosso, by a crossway, right over-against my Mistress' house, I might discern a pretty ways off, two several companies, one on t'one side of the street, and t'other on the other. Thereupon, I returned a little back, and stepping into a porch, I began to think with myself; I am a stranger, this Gentlewoman of good rank and quality, well descended, and rich withal. There is general notice taken of her worth and means. This flesh 
u Esta●…e la carne en el 〈◊〉 por talta de gato. Alluding to those women that are retired, and chaste; not so much out of their own will, a ●…or want of opportunity, and a natural re●…ct, and shamefast fear, that the would m●…y not take notice of their incontinency. Casta est quam nemo rogavit. Ovid. leg. 〈◊〉. And anon after. Aut si rusticitas non vetat, ipsa rogat. Also we say; Que alguna 〈◊〉 garabato; when with her beauty, and other good graces, she draws as it were with hooks, your gallants hearts after her. Coverr. verb. Garabato.  need not to have been hung up upon the hooks for want of a Cat. No man will say that this was not a woman worth the looking after, but rather that there was a great deal of reason, that she should be wooed & sued unto, and to be served and observed by those that had the happiness to see her. These (said I to myself) do not wait here to give or receive an alms: I know not who they are, nor what they pretend; whether they be friends & all of one company, or whether any one of them be interessed here; if by misfortune I should come amongst them, and that they should hedge me in in the midst of them, and make a ring about me, the would not only muffle me with their cloaks, but make me as full of holes as a Sieve, a●… prick me in the body with their Rapier's points, as Bulls are stuck with darts, when they are baited in the marketplace, and perchance leave me for dead. This Country is dangerous, the men bold and insolent; their weapons of advantage, they many, and I a poor single man. And therefore (Guzman) 
x The Spanish phrase is, Guarte, no sea nabo.  look to thyself. And if they be enemies, and have a mind 
Proverb  to go together by the ears, it is not I that can part them, I shall never be able to make them friends, but endanger myself, and do no good. Go the world which way it will, fall back, or fall edge, the best course for me, is to get me home to my lodging, I am sure that is the safest way. And fitter it were for me to go to mine Inn, and look to my trunks, and to get me out of Town as soon as I can. For I neither know any, nor am known by any. Besides à quien se muda, 
y A quien, se muda, dios le ayuda.  dios le ayuda. God helps those that alter their evil condition. I 
Proverb.  betook me to my heels, and came in a trice to my lodging. as soon I came in, I presently got me to bed, where I rested, with much more sleep, and a great deal less pain, than the night before. For indeed, there is not any thing that doth sooner thrust these love toys out of our heads, then to see such kind of visions. Whereupon I resolved the next day to leave the City, and so I did; 
Alcala, an University not above a day's journey from Madrid.  By little and little I drew towards Madrid; And when I come to Alcala d●… Henares, I abode there eight days, for that it seemed unto me, one of the finest and pleasantest places of any other that I had seen, since my coming out of Italy: and if the love of the Court, had not clapped wings to my feet, I am verily persuaded, that I should have continued there still, that I might have enjoyed that fresh and delicate River, their plentiful provision, their rare and singular wits, and many other good intertainments. But because Madrid was patria 
Proverb.  communis, the common mother to us all, and a large field, wherein every man 
ᶻ Dexar un mar, por el arroya.  might range at pleasure, I thought it no discretion, to forgo the Sea, for a River. And for lesser things, to neglect the greater. In fine, every man may there follow that which he hath most mind to. There no man knows one another; no not so much as those that live within the same doors, and lodge in the same house. This drew me thither, and thither I came. The face of the Court, as also of the town, was quite changed, since I left it. There was no Grocer there to be heard of, no memory now, that there was ever any such 
Madrid much altered in a few years.  man. I found the fields peopled with houses, children become men, young folks grown ancient, the ancient old, and the old dead. The high ways turned into streets, and the streets altered in their breadth and building; finding every thing in good order, and far better than when I left it. I lighted on a lodging, that liked me exceeding well; and so well, that I stayed full eight 
Guzman takes a lodging in an Inn.  days within doors, without putting so much as my foot over the threshold, being only tie thus fast by the leg, by the good company and sweet conversation of mine Hostess. Who, besides her handsomeness, had a good fashion of behaviour, and a pleasing kind of entertainment. She was discreet in her carriage, and at board knew very well how to demean herself. Those few days that I stayed there, she made me very good cheer, and did with all possible punctuality, seek to please and observe me, fitting my humour to a hair.  
While I continued there, I went casting up of my accounts, plotting and devising with myself, what course of life I should run, how, and upon what I should live, and in conclusion Vanity weighed down the scales. And first 
He turns Gallant.  of all I began my business with gallantry and bravery; being every day more fine than other. I made me two different suits of clothes, with long silk stockings, of the best Naple silk, neat ones they were, and strongly sowed to my pained hose: And I took another suit out of my trunk for change; thinking with myself, that being thus well clad, and getting me a good horse, and taking two servants to attend me, by showing myself abroad in this good equipage, I might the easier vent my merchandise, and meet with those, that would buy these my jewels of me. I put this in execution, and began to brave it, and to spend liberally. My Hostess was not short, either handed, or 
Proverb.  witted, but a gentle courteous dame: she sought in all things to please my 
a The Spanish phrase is, Davame canas a las manos.  palate. She had found out the beating of my pulse, and need not to be taught how to apply herself to my malady. It happened, that amongst many of those her she-friends that did often come and visit me, one of them brought along with her in her company a young wench, well favoured, well behaved, having a face like an Angel; and though she were in extreme both fair & beautiful, yet was she far more wily and subtle; it was a notable crafty carrion. To this wench, did I make love; she shows herself coy and disdainful; gifts 
b Dadivas, ablandon penas.  mollify rocks, and 
Proverb.  break the hardest stones in sunder. The more I did regalar her, and the more courtesies I bestowed upon her, the more kind she grew; of a Haggard, she became a gentle Hawk; and though somewhat wild and strange at first, yet now was she taught to come to fist; I could play with her beak, cast her, 
Guzman makes love to a young wench.  and give her stones, so that now she was managed, as I would have her. I continued this friendship with her for some few days, in all which time, (as if she had been some gutter to receive all the rain that falls; or some Chemist, or Alchemist, to melt a man's money, and to extract quintessences) there was not that day that passed over her head, wherein she did not beg or crave something of me; peeling, and polling me, as much, as possibly she could; carrying herself therein so ●…ily, & so cunningly, as if she had been a woman of much riper year's, and well beaten to these kind of businesses; never a Courtesan of them all, could go beyond her. But she was the better Verste (I doubt not) in these things, in that she had so good a tutor of her Mother. Once (amongst the rest) I remember she entreated me, that I would buy her a gown of crimson damask, which a Broker had to sell at the Puerta 
c A place so called, in the high street of Madrid near unto ●…an Felipe.  del sol, trimmed with gold lace, and richly embroidered, the price no less than 1000 Royals. This seeming in her an excessive kind of liberty, that she had assumed to herself, to dispose of my moneys at her pleasure, (for albeit, I was not a little taken with her love, and though I saw her craving nature, yet I had not dealt so ill with her, but that I had bestowed on her above 100 Crowns one way or other, and that if I should suffer her still to 
d The Spanish phrase is, No quedarà bolo en hiesto.  untap my vessel, she would sackme so dry at last, that she would not leave one drop in all the hogshead) I would not give it her, but grew somewhat angry with her; she sets light by it, was offended with my denial, took it to hart, & thought hardly of me, and that I had used her unkindly. I would take no notice of it. The 
Unkindness grows betwixt Guzman and his wench. A plot to cozen Guzman.  mother & the daughter, were both displeased with me. I said nothing, but looked on, to see, what would become of this business. They came not at me, nor did I send to them. They entered into counsel with mine Hostess. The Wolf & the Fox, had both laid their heads together, how they might entrap the poor harmless Sheep; and all three did combine themselves against me. Now here see their roguery, and what a villainous plot they had laid for me. When I was set down to my meat, when I was just in the midst of my dinner, not dreaming of any ill, that was intended towards me, I might perceive an Alguazil 
Proverb.  de Corte, make towards my lodging. Who, when he came within hearing, speaks out aloud, Body of me; Aqui morira Sanson, y qua●…tos, con el son; Here shall 
e Aqui morira Sanson, y quantos con el son; A kind of Rodomontado, or proud menacing. An Algu●…il comes to arrest Guzman.  Samson die the death, and as many as be here with him. My end (said I to myself) is now at hand. I thrust the table from me, and rose up much troubled. Then said the Alguazil unto me; Pacify yourself Sir, and rest you quiet, we come not to apprehend you for a thief. It cannot be for any other thing (thought I with myself;) for he had named the word thief before, and I did verily believe that he spoke in a frumping and scoffing kind of manner; and that for this cause he was come thither to arrest me. That word 
Guzman much dismayed.  struck my heart so dead, that I was not able to speak a ready word, much less to save myself by flight, but stood as still as a stock. The Catchpoles had made good the door, the window was of the least, & too high from the street, from whence I could not get down so easily, but that they would take hold on me, ere I came to the ground; or if I escaped their hands, it was a thousand pound to a penny, I should break my neck in the fall. At the last, for all my spirits were thus troubled within me, I did (as well as I could) ask him, what was his will with me? He (having much ado to forbear laughing, and having no share of the care that I was in) putting his hand into his bosom, pulled out a Warrant, by virtue whereof the Alcaldes had commanded him to apprehend me upon the breach of that law of theirs, de 
f The Spanish phrase is, Por el virgo de justilla.  viciatione virginum, of cracking of maidenheads, and the deflowering of a virgin. The devil take thee for a wicked woman as thou art, and me for an arrant villain, (said I) if I know what thou wouldst have, or what thou dost mean by this: And let me never live, if she do not lie like a hundred thousand devils. I swore unto him, that it was a most sinful and abominable untruth, and a testimony as full of falsehood, as God is true. The Alguazil smiling upon me, said, I believe you Sir, but told me withal, that he might not exceed his Commission, nor was it in his power to release me. And therefore wished me to put on my cloak, and to go along with him to prison. Now I was in the briers; I knew not how to wind myself out of them; my final ruin was before my face; I had trunks; what ones they were, you yourselves can imagine; my servants not known, I lay in a lodging where they had made a 
g It is an usual phrase 〈◊〉 Spain to say; Esta hecha su cama. Such a man's bed is a making; when there is some matter a working against him for his hurt.  bed for me, or rather a trap to catch me. I did fear this was but the Prologue to the Tragedy, that would come after, making this but a colour for the better cozening me of all that I had. If I left my trunks there, they would have been as safe in the street; and if I should remove them thence, I knew not whither to carry them; And to go to prison is like unto those, who go to play in a Tavern, that is seated on the top of some cold mountain; who begin in Cards, & end in drunkenness, falling asleep with the pot between their hands. Thinking with myself, that though I went thither for a trifle, I could not tell, whether these mole hills would be made mountains; and small occasions breed mighty inconveniences. So that I was at a stand with myself, and knew not which way to take. I took the Alguazil 
Guzman treats in private with the Alguazil.  aside, and entreated him, as he did honour one only God, that he would not be the instrument of my undoing. I told him, that wealth that I had, was like to run great hazard of being utterly lost, and that he would be pleased to devose some means, that they might not do me so great a wrong; for that I assured myself they had a purpose to rob me, and they were minded to make a spoil and a prey of me, and that this was only their intent, and nothing else.  
He was an honest man (which was no small good fortune, considering his calling) discreet, and courteous, he knew my innocency, as one that was well acquainted with the contrary party's course of life; and I promised to be so thankful unto him for this his kindness, that he should have no cause to complain, or repent him of the favour he should afford me in this case. He told me, that I should not need to trouble myself any farther in the business, for I should find him ready to serve me in all that he was able. He left his servants 
The Alguazil wrought to favour Guzman.  there to look unto me, and went to seek out the adverse party, that brought him thither, who was in my Hostess' chamber. He went to and fro between us, with offer of such and such conditions, to accommodate the business; and in the end, he threatened them, that if they would not come to agreement, and make some reasonable end, he would swear the truth in my favour, and discover their cheat, and their rogueries, if they would not rest contended with that which was fitting.  
They, when they saw how ill their cause was like to go with them, were 
Guzman compounds his business.  willing in the end to put it wholly into his hands, and so this quarrel was ended between us, for two thousand Royals. For he having put the mother to her oath, she swore, that I had promised to pay for the gown, and double the value of it in money, and that if this would not content her, she should have more. But she I know rested well contented, and was glad with all her heart, that she went thus away with these two thousand Royals, because she knew they were not due unto her. Well, I paid down the money on the nail, and we went to the Registers office, and there had the bill dashed: So that the suit was now at an end. It cost me in the whole, a matter of two hundred Ducats; & within half an hour after all was dispatched, it was dark night. But I would not stay a minute 
Guzman leaves his lodging.  longer in that lodging, nor would not so much as have set my foot within the doors of that wicked house, had it not been to have away my trunks, and such other things as I had there. Which done, I presently parted thence, and went to seek out another. I was not curious, but took the first that came to hand, till I could fit myself better, and meet with some quarter part of a handsome and honest house, with persons in it of some worth and credit. I bought me some movables and such houshold-st●…ffe, as was necessary for myself, and my servants, and provided me pots and pans for the kitchen. Whilst I was making this provision, it was my hap one morning to meet with the same Alguazil in the 
h A monastery in Madrid. The discourse that p●…st betwixt Guzman and the Alguazil at the Descalças.  Descalças, and after we had both heard Mass, at the said Monastery, we talked together, and I swore unto him by the blessed Sacrament, that was there upon the Altar, that I had never made any such promise to that woman; he told me, Sir, not only in those things which I know, but in those, which I know not, you might have spared this oath with me, much less was there need of it in a thing of this nature; for this is well known, to be a packed piece of knavery, and a plot laid of purpose to pick your purse. I know this young baggage; who besides this, which she hath now put upon you, hath exhibited two other several bills in the Court in this kind. The first, before the Vicar of this town, against a poor 
i The Spanish word is Cavallero de epistola, because it is the subdeacons office to sing, or read the Epistle of the Mass. Covarr. 358.  Subdeacon, who came hither about a certain business; he was the son of honest and rich parents, who for quietness sake, was content (good man) to have his clothes torn from his back by them, and being stripped of all that he had, went away (as they say) in his shirt, they leaving him as poor as job. Afterwards they commenced the like suit here in this town, making a grievous complaint against a Teniente, who was a Catalunian, and exceeding rich: They firked him too, and fleeced him as well as they could; but this man hath deeply sworn, that he will be fully revenged on her. And now hath she complained on yourself to the Alcaldes; And had it not been, that I held it the lesser inconvenience to pay them that money, then to yield yourself a prisoner, leaving your goods (as they say) at six and seven, I assure you I would not have given way unto it, but have executed my office. But of two evils, the least is to be chosen. For albeit you would out of doubt have been freed in the end, yet would you not 
The incenueniences of imprisonment and Lawsuits.  have procured your liberty in haste; for much time must first have been spent in the proofs, and then in the replies to those proofs; whereas this way, though you were at an unjust charge, yet have you by this means, avoided the prison, your shackles, your Visits, your Attorneys, your Proctors, & your Registers, bringing in this relation, and returning that relation, this information, and that information, all which is but vexation of spirit, & prolongation of time, trouble, charge, and discontent. The bargain was driven cheaper this way, and with a great deal less distaste. I vow this unto you, as I am a Gentleman, and an honest man, that in all the time that I have served his Majesty with this Uare in my hand, which is now going upon the three and twentieth year, that of all the cases that I have seen in this kind, I have not known above three in three hundred, that have been justly prosecuted in Court: For he that feeds upon that dish, (unless he have very ill luck) seldom or never pays for it. But when such things come in question, the accuser hath commonly the better of the accused; the plaintiff will be sure to far well, how ere it go with the defendant; he hath that he looks for, he cares for no more; for it is in this, as at Best 
k The Spanish phrase is, Echar la buena barba, A s●…ort whereat one ●…ayes for all the 〈◊〉 that he and his fellows eate, by ask the seller this question, Who is the honestest man of all us? which is signified, por la barba. By allusion, it is spoken of those, who with set●…p eches, and flattering phrases gull a man of his money. The fashion of your Spanish qucanes.  be trusted, amongst Costermongers, the first speaker escapes scot-free. And these kind of people will never give over this trick, till they have lighted upon one unlucky bird or other, whom they may rob both of his credit, and his money, or get them such a husband as may supply their wants, and necessities. It is like unto some botch or kernel, which first begins in the finger, but afterwards break s●…out in the arme-pit: And the cause of it is, because the delinquent either suddenly flies upon the accusation, or is so poor a fellow, that he is not worth the looking after.  
These young queans, either walk the streets, to see if they can meet with a good chapman, or drop into some friend's house, or keep at home at their fathers or their mother's house: this, or that other young man, enters within doors, comes into the kitchen, where he hath opportunity to speak unto her, and she to answer him: They are all alone, the doors shut, time enough, will they want not, occasion is offered, and the bargain driven. But this is practised for the most part amongst the poorer sort; and the party hath no sooner the scent of those rashers of Bacon, that are m●…king ready for him, but he presently gets him out of the house, and comes there no more. Now, when their parents come to know it, that they may not lose the fruit of their labours, they give her an admonition, or gentle reprehension. And afterwards they themselves stand sentinel, and have a nearer eye to the business, and so order the matter for her, that she may fall into such a man's hands, of whom they may 
Pr●…rbe.  make profit of this their merchandise. Whence, it oftentimes comes to pass, that he that is least in fault, 
l The Spanish phrase is: Quien menos culpa ti●…ne, à lavar la lana. And it is spoken by way of pr●…erbe; V●…s lavarey●…s la lana. de aquel, qu●… le ●…a caydo lafoy suerte mas trabajosa Comolos, que trabaja●… en l●…s lavaderos; que v●…os son apartadores. Otros' ti●…nen l●…s mas oficios, que no son pocos: y los que lavan la lan●… tienen mayor trabajo, por andar en el agua todo el dia, desnudos. Covarr. 113. A tale of a can●…g que●…ne.  smarts most. Then said I unto him, I pray Sir tell me, if these things never happen, but in secret, and unseen, none knowing thereof but themselves, who dare to swear, or can truly take his oath, unless she shriek and cry out, whereby it may appear, that he did offer her force and violence, or that the people came in and found them busseling together, or in the act itself? He told me, such an oath is not necessary, nor in such cases do they put the witness to prove, that he saw them together in that actual manner, for this were an impossibility, the business being carried in that secrecy, as you propound it. It will serve turn, that he, or they, depose, that they were seen to talk together, or to have been in private together, or that he was seen to kiss her, or to embrace her in his arms, or that he was in some chamber with her, the door shut upon them, or that they had seen some such passages, by which it might well be presumed, that such a thing was either done, or in doing. For what with these circumstances, and her own asseveration, standing stiffly unto it, that he had ravished her, and forced her against her will, it being found upon inspection, by a jury of women, that her maidenhead is cracked, and that she is no more a Virgin, this shall be a strong and sufficient proof against him. I myself (said the Alguazil) saw in this Court, a very rigorous course taken in this kind, and one of the strangest Cases, that I believe you have scarce ever heard of the like heretofore.  
There was once abiding in this Town a very handsome and beautiful Gentlewoman, a stranger in this place, who came hither (being baited out of her own Country) for no other end, then to seekè out some means to live. She professed herself to be a maid, and in that habit she went a while up and down the Town. A certain Prince in this Court had a great mind unto her; he pretends, and procures her love; he gives her a ticket under his own hand for to pay her eight hundred Ducats, in which writing, she would have it set down, that there should be a respect had unto her honour; specifying therein, that he bestowed the same upon her by way of dowry for her advancement in marriage. The Prince did not pay this money at the day, she put his bond in suit, he answers not unto it, she gets out an execution against him, and recovers the money.  
About some four years after (being favoured by a certain great person) she provided the like pickle for another, that was a stranger, who having had some dealings with her, she picks a quarrel with him, and makes 〈◊〉 grievous complaint against him. And howbeit the defendant alleged against her the original writing, and the payment of the principal, together with the interest, yet they condemned him, and made him to give her full satisfaction, so that the poor Gentleman was forced to pay her sound for her cut Melon, it was argued to and fro, that she was, and was not a maid; but not to dispute, whether she were or no: Sure I am, that she recovered twice or thrice in Court, that which she never sold; and in this manner did she go away with the bucklers. And therefore (Sir) you have not been ill served in this business, but have well wound yourself out of the briars. For in good faith (Sir) the witnesses did threaten you sore, were violently bend against you, and spoke very bloody words (though the wench was not so.) And so we took leave one of another, he going his way, and I mine. I did much wonder to hear such businesses to be so carried. Insomuch, that discoursing thereof with myself, I began by degrees to fall into consideration of the sacred Council of Trent, which so holily, so justly, and so lawfully had made provision for clandestin●… marriages; and by which there was a remedy found out for so many inconveniences, stopping so many gaps, and rearing up so many walls, to keep them out, and hinder their entrance. And I did likewise weigh with myself, that if the secular power, would (as in justice they ought) do as much in these days in such cases, (as mine was) I verily persuade myself, that there would not be the fifth, nay not the tenth part of those lewd and naughty women, as are now (the more is the pity) every where abroad in the world, living to their own, and others undoing. For really, and truly, there is no such thing as this force, which they so much enforce (that we may speak it under benedicite) but that which they call force, is rather an accord and consent of both parties. Nor is it possible, that one man alone should force a woman, if she of her own will, or with a kind of unwilling willingness, grant him not that which he desireth of her. And if she give way, and rest contented with it, why doth she question and trouble him for it? And here I shall take occasion, to tell you a true Story, which happened in a certain place within the Signory, or jurisdiction of Andaluzia.  
There was a Country Clown, a good honest day-labourer, that had a pretty 
A Tale of a Country Clown.  young wench to his daughter, with whom a young fellow fell in love, that was a neighbour's son of the same Parish; and in fine, having obtained what he desired, when her father came to know of it, and that this young man had plucked from her the fairest flower of her garland, he made haste to such a Town (that was the Head-Towne of that Division) to make his complaint against this his neighbour's son. The Alcalde harkened with great attention to all that he said, and after that the poor man had informed him at full of the case and had said all that he could, he said unto him: Well (my honest friend) you complain here of this young man, that he hath tickled your daughter, & played the wanton with her, wherewith you find yourself aggrieved; Is it not so (my good friend?) yes (and it please your Worship) said her father, it is as your Worship says; you say very true Sir. And I am much aggrieved with it indeed, for that he did dishonour my daughter by force. Then the Alcalde, spoke again unto him, and said; Tell me (I prithee) how old is thy daughter, and how old is the young fellow? My daughter (said the father) will be (next August) one and twenty year old, and the young man (as I take it) is some three and twenty. When the Alcalde heard him say so, in a rage he rose up from the bench, and frowning upon him, said angrily unto him; And comest thou with this to me now? Have I nothing else to do (thinkest thou) but to hear every idle foolish complaint? He twen●…y three, & she twenty one: Let me hear no more of this (my friend) go get you home, and rest you quiet; here's a pretty accusation with all my heart: one, one and twenty, and the other three and twenty, they might very well do the business, they could not choose, but well and willingly go to it. If others, in the like case, should receive the like answer, and that there were a Law made, whereby it were enacted, That no woman, from eleven years upwards, dwelling in a Town, should pretend herself to be forced; they would then be good perforce.  
But upon this subject, may it please you to hear a singular accident, and a notable 
A digression to another story of the like nature.  case in this kind, which happened (not long ago) in one of the principallest Cities of that most noble Commonwealth of Venice.  
There lived in that City, an old woman, base in her birth, and poor in her means, who had a daughter, that was very lovely, fair, and beautiful. And because she had not wherewithal to marry her, this crafty Gabri●…a (being an old cunning Hag) devised with herself to make sale of the purity and virginity of her daughter, and that not once, but many and many times: and these her wicked proceedings did prosper well with her. For she would either be sure to have that before hand, which they had agreed upon, or by the favour of some principal person, this, or that other man, was fain to compound with her, and to make his peace as well as he could. One day amongst the rest, this handsome young wench, being seen and well eyed by a young Gallant, and one of the principal Gentlemen of that City, a singl●…-man, and exceeding rich, used diverse means to win her affection, and in the end obtained his purpose and after that he had enjoyed her, he did very liberally requi●…e her for her kindness. But the greedy old woman (who was covetousness itself) thinking this Lordly gift too little, made her moan to a particular Gentleman, complaining how ill she had been dealt withal.  
He, as it were in a jesting kind of manner (scorning and hating in his heart the vile and base humour of this wicked & accursed woman) said thus unto her; Thou knowest Lena (for that was her surname) that the most illustrious, and most excellent Segnor Generale, will shortly be here; and thou likewise knowest, what upright justice he doth indifferently administer to every one, without respect of persons, and more particularly in such cases that concern the good and honour of maidens. And therefore the best counsel that I can give you, is, That you and your daughter Ricci●…lina get you both (as soon as he comes hither) unto his Excellency, & plainly deliver unto him how Signior Co●…de N. hath forced and deflowered your daughter, and falling both a-weeping before him, ye further declare unto him, that after he had had his will of her, he was not so good as his word with her, nor performed the promise which he made unto her; which was, That he would either give her two hundred crowns, or get her a good husband. And that therefore, seeing that he did not comply with you neither in the one, nor the other, that his Excellency would therefore be pleased to take this your wretched and woeful case into consideration, and to do you justice. If you can do this handsomely (as I know you are not to seek, and can do it better than I can advise you) my life for yours, you will have the day of him, and the business will go clear on your side. It was not long after, that the General his Excellency came, before whose presence these women being brought, they opened this their false accusation. Upon which relation of theirs, his Excellency was much moved, and caused the Conde to be sent for by one of his servants: who, when he came before him, was demanded, whether at any time he had had conversation with Ricciolina the daughter of Lena? He without any more ado, ingeniously confessed, that he had. When he heard him say so, he bestowed upon him, such a lo●…ing and fatherly rep●…ehension, that the Conde began to blush, and for very shame, could not for the present express himself, as he might, and would have done in his own excuse. Whereupon the General perceiving this his tacit confession, caused Ricci●…lina to be called forth (who by his appointment stayed in the next room) and when she was come, he gravely spoke in this manner unto him; Signior Conde, if we should punish faults with rigour, a heavy punishment would light upon you. But we, for that we love yourself, and all other offenders that come before us, as our own children, and taking pity and compassion of your youthful fervour, and those violences that accompany such young years, we do pardon you that grievous and most heinous offence of forcing this maiden, as far forth as it may touch your life; but withal, we condemn you, to pay the double of what you promised her, which comes to four hundred crowns: which before you go from hence, we command that you presently disburse, and give it to Ricci●…lina.  
To this the C●…nde, his blood now waxing warm, which before was frozen, with that respect and decency, which was fitting for him, replied thus: Most Illustrious and Excellent Sir, I have hitherto held my peace, it beseeming me so to do, as one that is your most true, faithful and obedient servant, and most ready to submit myself to any reproof or punishment, that you shall be pleased to inflict upon me, in case this their accusation were true. And if your Excellency out of the greatness of your wisdom, shall be pleased to dive into the depth of these subt●…l women's hearts, and search them to the very bottom, your Excellenc●…e will soon discover, how wickedly false these their accusations have been against me. And though I have confessed, that I have had conversation with her, it was upon covenant and agreement between us, upon such a price, which I punctually paid, giving her more out of mine own bounty, than she could challenge of me. Notwithstanding, if it shall seem good unto you, that I disburse this money, I crave no longer time, then that I may go home & fetch it, wherewith I shall presently return, and put the money into your Excellency's hands, to be disposed of, as you please; but not as in punishment of any such error by me committed.  
The General having heard what the Conde said, replied unto him, Signior Conde, go fetch the money, for I shall stay here till you come. And you Ricciolina, see you depart not.  
Now, whilst the Conde was going home, and returning back again, his Excellency went a far off, ask this and that other question, one while of the old woman, another of the young, and so talking to and fro of diverse things, at last, he said unto her; Tell me (Lena) have you ever carried a good hand over your daughter? have you always looked narrowly unto her? Yes marry have I Sir (said she.) And did you never (replied he again) leave her all alone by day or by night? No Sir, quoth she. How comes it then to pass (said his Excellency) that you would suffer your daughter to be forced and deflowered by the Conde? Why did not you defend her from that violence? And you (Ricciolina) having your mother in your company, why would you let him force you, and take that from you which (unless you should in some sort consent thereunto) it were impossible for him to get from you? Both of them, then weeping, said unto him; That the Conde was too strong for them, and that they were not able to resist his violence, and therefore besought his Excellency, that he would not suffer her daughter to be thus abused, and both of them to be left open to such a deal of scorn and reproach: but that he would be pleased to do them justice.  
By this time the Conde was come, and had told out upon a little table of ivory four hundred Crowns; which by the General were given to Ricciolina, giving her this Item withal, Take them (daughter) and look well unto them, lest they chance to be taken from thee. And you (Lena) have a care both of her and her money. And so God be with you, I have no more to say to you.  
When they were gone, his Excellency turning himself towards the Conde, said unto him, Go, get you after them, and see you take their money from them, either by love or force, by fair means or by foul. And look that you give me a true account of the passage of this business.  
The Conde hearing this, moved with rage and disdain, seeing how basely he had been used by these infamous women, (not considering the condition imposed upon him, nor to what end it was done) made hastily after them; nor did he go alone by himself, but made choice of a servant of his (amongst those many that he had) whom he took along with him. And so walking a good round pace, he overtook them a little on this side their own house, and coming unto them, after that he had saluted them very kindly, and by little and little had insinuated himself into them, he continued discoursing with them, till he had brought them home. Where, as soooe as he was come into the house, he began to demand his money of them. And when he saw he could not prevail with entreaties, he assayed to get it by force, and went roundly to work with them. But Ricciolina, who had put the purse in her bosom, stoutly defended both it and herself, scratching the Conde with her hands, and biting him with her teeth; who with all the strength that he had, could not come so much as to touch, much less to take the purse from her. To make good this quarrel, the mother ran in, and took part with her daughter, and they did so help and aid one another, with their nails and their teeth, and by their loud outcries and shrieks, that although the house were a lone-house, far from neighbours, and little frequented, yet notwithstanding many people upon this great noise and tumult, came running thither, and amongst the common rout, one Gentleman, who pressing in, and seeing the Conde all bloody, who fought like a fierce Lion, set upon by two rather enraged Bears, than women, what with his words, and what with his deeds, being assisted by others, he parted the one from the other. The Conde was so overcome with choler, that he laid about him like a mad man, and had so lost all patience, that doubtless he had done much mischief, if he had not been restrained by the company. He washed his face and his hands, and having wiped them with his handkerc●…er, he departed thence in company of that Gentleman, threatening those women, that he would be ●…euenged on them: who, no less offended than the furious Conde, made no long tarrying, but hasted with all the speed they could to the General. But the Conde had got the start of them, and was there before them, having fully acquainted his Excellency with all that had passed, showing the scratches and the bitings which he had received from them: who had no sooner told his tale, but in come the women, vnsheathing their malicious & sharp-edged tongues, grievously complaining of the Conde, who was there present, declaring, how first with fair and kind words, and afterwards by violent and forcible deeds, he would have taken their money from them, threatening besides to kill them.  
Then said the General unto them; He hath not taken them from you, hath he? No (and it like you Excellency) said they. How came it then to pass (quoth he) that he took them not from you? They answered, Sir, we did so well bestir ourselves, with our hands, our nails, our teeth, and the shrieks that we made, to call in company, that he missed of his purpose and could not do it.  
Very good (said the General) and you Ricciolina, if your mother had not come in to help you, could you (think you) have made a shift so to withstand the Condes courage, that he should not have taken the purse from forth your bosom? Yes indeed Sir, said she: for I fear him not, nor any thing he can do, I care not a straw for him, for I think myself every way as strong as he; yet is it not meet, that men should come in this violent manner into poor women's houses, to take that from them which is none of theirs. Then (said the General) you did both of you, help and defend one another, as well as you could. Yes Sir, said they. It is very well (replied the General) I like well of it, and I must needs say, you have borne yourselves well in the business. But where is the purse? I have it here in my bosom●…, said Ricciolina. Let me see it, said the General. The young wench presently plucks it out of her bosom. Then said his Excellency unto her; Pou●…e them out (laughte●…) there upon the board, and tell them anew, to s●…e if you have all, and that the Conde hath not taken any of them from you, She did so, and found the number just. Whereupon, she told his Excellency they were all there, and not so much as one crown missing. Then the General (who was a very wise and discreet man) perceiving the Condes goodness, and these other women's wickedness, spoke and said: Sign●…r Conde, Take you your money again, you have fought hardly for it; it is yours, put it up.  
Then, turning to this young quean, looking sternly upon her, he said unto her; Thou lewd and filthy baggage, if thou hadst defended thyself as well as thou didst thy money, the Conde could not have forced thee; but it seems thou wast very well conte●…t that he should have his pleasure of thee, and having consented to his will, you we●…e not forced (Minion) as both you and your mother have falsely accused the Conde, to whom we justly award his re-having of his 400 Crowns. And as for you, get you gone, and let me hear no more of you, and be glad that you scape so, for if you were well served, and punished according to your deserts, I should send you to Bride well, and have you well whipped, & ring your mother out of Town, for an old wicked B●…d. The General having pronounced this so just a sentence, the business was ended to the great contentment of all that heard it, and to his own no small commendation.  
But to come into o●…r ●…ld way again: No force of man can prevail against 
T●…ing R●…es.  the woman that is unwilling. But say such a thing might once in a thousand years' chance to happen; me thinks it is no reason, that a business of this nature should be compounded withal for money, much less enjoin them marriage, (unless he had formerly given her his word and faithful promise before witnesses) but that in this case, the fittest means, were personal punishment, either more, or less, according to the quality of the delict, and that the cause might be handled before the King's Attorney General, that there might be no hope of pardon left, to such boisterous offenders. Assuring myself, that by this means, men would have more fear; and women more shame: and would not, so often, as now they do, commit such like sins, and treacheries, as these. For, this refuge being taken from them, and having no hope of remedy, or help left unto them, they would leave this lewd course of life, and not be so hasty, to undo both themselves, and others. If a wench go to it with a good will, why should she urge, it was against her will? Or if perhaps she have not wherewithal to live, why should she pick a living out of such disgraceful, and dangerous deceits? There are a thousand other, and far more honest ways, for a woman to live by, than these.  
But here pity (me thinks) comes in, and pleads thus; A lack, poor women, 
Women, weak creatures.  they are weak & simple, and suffer themselves to be overcome through their too much facility and aptness of belief, and men's too much falsehood in their promises; and therefore they ought to be much favoured and pitied by us. 
Their facile nature, and men's false promises, have wrought them much ●…e.  I confess this plea to be true. But if they were either taught, or knew before hand themselves, that this their facility is a fault in them, and that they ought not to be so easily won, they would learn the better to keep their cabinet close, and not to depart with so precious a jewel, but upon very good terms. And this foolish confidence of theirs, hath undone many a woman, and is like to undo more, unless they look a little better to themselves. This destroying confidence of theirs, is like unto faith, without good works, which hath sent thousands packing to Hell. Let no woman therefore (if she be wise) depend upon men's promises, be they never so fair: for they promise with passion, perform with delays, and seldom or never satisfy expectation. That woman therefore, I say, that shall trust any man's faith or promise, and shall upon such false assurance, surrender up her Copie-hold into his hands, let her blame no body but herself, if she be afterwards cozened, and deluded by him.  
There is another kind of injustice in the world, somewhat near in this nature, which would require some reformation. You shall (which I have seen oftentimes) have two fellow-servants lodge together in one house, who being agreed upon the business, and both very willing to enjoy each other, she (like a silkworm) continues her three 
m Your Silkworms make three sleep: Awaking after their first, to feed; then falling again to sleep, till they begin to work their balls. Never leaving off, till they shut up themselves in those balls, and consume them-s●…lues, ungorging all that sli●…nesse, whereof they form the ball. Covatr. pag. 327.  sleeps with him, till at last their Master comes unawares upon them, and takes them in the manner: Who, thereupon, lays hold on this his unfortunate servant, who neither tasted the cream, nor the cheese of this milk, but only that sour whey, which is cast out to the dogs and the swine: He puts him in prison, where he keeps this poor soul so long, till at last growing desperate, he is driven to marry her; and the more to increase his misery, they condemn him in a pecuniary punishment, which he, and all his whole lineage, if they were sold to their shirts, are not able to pay. When he sees himself thus undone, being first forced to marry whether he will or no; and then to have all that little that he hath, to be taken violently from him, and torn as it were out of the very throat of him, he goes one way, and she another: He runs about the Country, and turns rogue; and she stays at home, and turns whore. I pray see, what a proper marriage this is, what a wise and worthy sentence, and the great good that comes of it?  
O, if there were some provision made for the reforming of this abuse, I doubt not but it would do very much good, and prove profitable for the Commonwealth. I paid the punishment of that sin, wherein I had not offended; and the price of that meat, whereof I had not tasted: I had provided me a house, put 
Guz●…an. provides him a house of his 〈◊〉.  all things in order, and withdrew myself thither, with all that I had; for I was much afraid, lest I might be served with the same sauce by another Hostess, as I was by this. And because I was likewise jealous, that the Collar and Girdle, which my Uncle had sent me, being pieces of that great value, as they were, might, by the fame that went of them, come to be discovered, I was the willinger to retire myself to an house of mine own, where I might with secrecy all alone by myself deface the same, and so alter the fashion, that they might not be known. I did so; taking out the precious stones, and the pearls that 
Guzman altars the fashion of his jewels.  were in them, with the point of my knife, laying every thing apart by itself. I did put all the gold into a great Crisoll, but not all at once, for it would not hold it; six or seven such pots, being scarce able to contain it, which in the end I made a shift to melt; and preparing it with a little sublimate (for I had some superficial knowledge in that kind of Art) having all my tools, and moulds in a readiness, befitting such a business, I did (when I found myself best at leisure) cast the whole mass into several ingots, or little bars of gold. And I thought I did very wisely therein, lest by saving their workmanship, myself might have made work for the hangman; and by keeping them in fashion, been myself in no fashion: and therefore thought it better to spoil that, then that should spoil me. With these stones, I began to turn jeweller, first informing myself very well of their true worth and value, causing some of them to be set in Crucifixes, some in rings, some in pendents for the ears, and other some ●…n jewels, as they would sort and fit best, differencing the setting and enchasing of them, as I saw cause: so that of the same gold and stones, I made diverse and sundry pieces: whereof I sold some for ready money, others I lent out at weddings with good gains, and others I rifled away at dice; insomuch, that I lost little of that which I might otherwise have gained, had I preserved their fashion, and with a great deal less fear of danger to mine own person. My stock began to increase a pace, I knew how to sell at dear rates upon trust, and how otherwise to afford a reasonable good pennyworth: I could tell how to turn and wind my money to the best profit; and I wanted no credit, because I was flush of money.  
There was close a●…ioyning to my house, certain ground, that was to be sold for the building of houses upon it. I thought good to buy a plot thereof for to build upon, that I might have a house of mine own to put my head in, making choice rather of a little corner of mine own purchasing, then to go every m●…neth chopping and changing of our lodging, lugging our bedding on our backs, and being at a continual charge in removing of our household stuff. Well, I agreed with the owner of the Land, I paid him his full price in good Royals, holding the same for ever, the Lord reserving only for himself a yearly rent of two Royals. I built a house upon it, wherein I spent before I was aware (and now there was no turning back) above three thousand Ducats. It was a neat pile, handsomely contrived, and of good receipt, and stood finely for 
Guzman turns Merchant.  pleasure and entertainment. There did I live, with that poor trading that I had, like a Fucar; and there should I have ended my days like a Prince, if my hard fortune, and greedy ill luck had not crossed me, by the unhappy encounter of a crafty knave, with a covetous wretch. For my house being so well furnished, my person so well respected, and my reputation standing on such good terms, as it did, there was not a fool wanting, who had a month's mind to make me his son in law: Who had a conceit, that I was all good meat, and that I had not (like the grape) some stony kernels in me, that were to be taken out, and thrown away, as good for nothing.  
This also is another great folly (and I fear me too much in use) that men should be so simple, as to marry their daughters, to the sons of unknown parents. Take heed, take heed, I say, how thou bestowest thy child: Think upon that old, but sound counsel of our forefathers; All hijo de tu vezino, metelo en tu 
Proverb.  c●…sa: 
n Al hijo de tu vezino, metelo e●… tu casa.  Match thy daughter with thy neighbour's son: Thou knowest his breeding, his disposition, his behaviour; what his honesty is, what his wisdom, what his means: but never admit thou a newcomer, or receive him for 
The care a father ought to have in the bestowing of his daughter.  thy son in Law, who is a mere stranger unto thee: For such a one, though thou see him to day in his own house, may to morrow be led thence to the gallows if he chance to be known, and found out what he is.  
This silly fool was a kind of trucker of commodities as well as myself; 
Proverb.  and 
o Acude cada un à su natural.  birds (you know) of a feather, will still flock together. He clung so close to me, that he glued me unto him: He married me to his daughter, having no other child in the world: He was rich, she was fair, and of a good and graceful behaviour. He promised me with her, three thousand Ducats, and I was well contented with it. He, who was a subtle fellow, and knew the dapps of the world, and could wind a penny to the best advantage, had no ambition to seek any higher, then to find out a man of my making, that knew how to employ my money to profit. And in this he had reason: For better is a poor son in Law, that is a good husband, and knows when to save, and when to spend a penny, than one that is rich, and a great waster. And there is no wise father (I assure myself) but would rather have a man without money to his son in Law, than money without a man. This man had a wonderful great affection unto me, we were agreed on the point, the conditions were drawn, the writings sealed, and the marriage solemnised.  
Now I am a married man, now am I entered into an honest and honourable 
Guzman marries a wife.  calling, I have a mistress now in my house, well contented with her choice, much made of, and well served. Some days passed over, (which were not many) when as my father in law, carrying us home with him one Sunday to dinner, after that the cloth was taken away, we three being all alone, he said thus unto me; Son, being now grown old, and having in my life time passed through many troubles, and for that I see thou art yet but a young man, and stand●…st now but at the foot as it were of the hill, that thou mayst get up to the top, with the greater ●…ase, and that thou mayst not tumble down backward when thou art half ways up, I will deliver thee my opinion, as one who is so much interessed as I am in thy good; otherwise I should save that labour, and not give thee any part of that which I now pretend to do.  
First then I would have thee to consider, that if thou shalt diminish one farthing 
Guzman's father in law his advice.  of thy stock, which thou windest and turnest in the world, it will quickly be consumed, be it never so great. You must likewise have a care to uphold and maintain your credit; And if you mean to be a Merchant, you must carry yourself like a Merchant; laying aside all that which is not integrity and plain dealing, for there is no negociating now adays, but with it and with money; changing, and re-changing as the market goes; making, according as you see the times are, either more or less gain. I shall stand still by you, and be ever ready to give you my helping hand, and hold you up by the chin, that you may not sink, if it be in my power to bear you up. But if at any time (which God forbid) the Dice should turn, and that lucky chance which we look for, should not come, take physic in time, purge yourself while you are in health, of your bad humours, and by a provident forecast, prevent all future sickness. This said, he caused two bills of debt to be brought in, and two counter-bils of credit, and going on in his discourse, he said thus unto me; One of these writings shall be to this effect, that you acknowledge yourself to be indebted unto me in the sum of four thousand Ducats, which I have lent unto you; against which (to save you harmless) I will make a Counter-bill, wherein I w●…ll confess a full satisfaction and true payment of the said debt, in such ample manner as you yourself shall be pleased to devose it. Both which we will safely keep to help ourselves at a pinch, if need should require; though it were much better, that no such occasion should offer itself, nor come (as I hope it never shall) within our doors. The other writing sh●…ll be, that I will procure my brother to sell unto you an annual rent that he hath, of five hundred Ducats, de 
p Iu●…o, is a ●…yall rent raised upon 〈◊〉, ●…wnes, and other places of the ●…ingdome, so ●…uea à, ure, which the Kings have to sus●…e thems●…lues withal, ●…nd to pay the 〈◊〉 of his ●…ts of ●…ce. An●… from ●…ence it had the name of 〈◊〉. This kind of Tribute is due unto the Kings of Spain, for their aid and maintenance. Covarr. ve●…b. 〈◊〉.  juro, and it shall be done in this manner; There will not one cashkeeper or other, be wanting unto us, who (out of the acquaintance and friendship that is between us) will be willing to make show o●…●…o much money, to the end that the public Notary, may a●…ow and testify the payment thereof; or else we will take it there, and they shall lend it us in bank, paying for the use thereof fifty Royals; and when this bill of sale shall be made over unto you in as absolute manner as Law can devose it, you shall return the same back again unto him, giving him full power to dispose thereof, and by a writing under your own hand, you shall acknowledge that this was but a feigned thing, put over unto you only in trust, and that really and truly, those five hundred Ducats, are, and were always his, and that you can by no means pretend any lawful claim unto them. I liked very well of it; supposing, it might do me much good, but could do me no harm.  
I did as he directed me, who had been an old beaten Soldier in these kind of businesses, had taken all the degrees of a cunning dealer, and knew the true track, wherein he was to trade, by which tricks and devices, he had wrought himself into a fortune, and come to be so rich as now he was.  
This foundation, being thus laid, I continued my trading a pretty while, b●…ing always in all things, very circumspect and punctual: And because I was not ignorant, that the credit of those that are great dealers in the world, doth depend much upon ostentation, fair shows, and flourishes, I did make the world believe, that my house, my wife, and myself, were in a fullness of plenty, and wanted nothing that was for ornament or necessary use. And in particular, my word, in all my dealings, was like a clock, it struck always true, and never went false. My wife had a hole 
q Muger, de ma●…o 〈◊〉 This phrase 〈◊〉 taken in the worse part. Cova●…r. pag. 478  bored through her hand; all ran out to waste, that was poured into it; an anger had likewise pierced her temples, whereby her hogshead had taken the vent of vanity. And I (kind fool) seeing the world thr●…u'd with me, and that my gettings were great, began to give way to her idle desires, & to humour these her womanish appetites, giving her greater liberty, then in discretion I should have done; and she for her part took so much on the other side, stretching every inch to an ell, that she spent excessively, and beyond all manner of measure in the accompanying & entertaining of her friends, in her banquets, feasts, and other inter-mealary-intertainmen●…s, b●…sides the great pomp of her apparel, jewels, dress, and a thousand 
Prou●…rbe.  other the like gallantries, with as many bobs, and other 
r Trac●…●…as rabos que un polpo. Covarr. pag. 600.  dingle-dangles, hanging at every one of these, as the Polypus hath tales; All these things concurring with that dear●…h and scarcity which be●…ell us in these our first years, and that small correspondence which we had in trading, it being a dead world, I began at length to know mine own weakness, and was taken on the sudden with such a swimming and giddiness of the head, that I was scarce able to stand on my legs, and lacked little of falling like a lumpish piece of Lead, flat to the ground: So true is that saying; 

s Nad●…e sabe, si no es el que lo lasta, lo que semejante ca●…agasta.  No man knows, (save who by proof doth taste) 
Proverb.   
What a good house, and a bad wife waste.   
If now in these days, there were made a Law; that whereas in Castille they allow the half of that which a man hath to his wife, in way of dowry; that the husband should not only not give her that, but should rather take some of their wife's drowry from them; they would then labour to get something, at least, seek to save what the husband gets; Whereas now they take no farther care, then how they may waste and consume what the husband painfully brings in.  
When I was a single man, I had wealth and trading enough, to have made 
Gu●…man begins to sink.  myself a rich man in a short time; but now, by having a wife I was grown poor, and rea●…y to go down the wind. And because my Father in Law was only acquainted with my book of Accounts, and knew as well as my self, what was owing to me, and what I did owe unto others, and was true and trusty therein unto me. I could not want credit; & the rather, for that all men did verily believe, that those 500 Ducats of yearly revenue were mine own. With this prop I bore up the burden of my debts, till my back was ready to break, & when I could endure the weight of them no longer, I suddenly sunk like unto a building that is raised on a false foundation. Now the time of my payments drew near; & though time of itself doth naturally still run along, yet to those that owe money, it flies away with a swift wing, & seemeth shorter, than otherwise perhaps it would. I saw my present ruin before mine eyes, & was so perplexed with the very thought thereof, that I could not take any rest, nor knew in the world what to do. In this perplexity of mind, I got me to my father in law's house, that I might break my griefs unto him, and communicate my cares with him; He comforted me the best that he could, and wished me not to be dismayed, for that we had a salve for this sore in our own hands, & that the remedy for this malady, was here at home within our own doors. He takes his cloak, throws it on his shoulders, and away he and I go together to one that was Escrivano de Provincia, the public Notary of that Province, an especial friend of his, and carrying him to Santa Cruz, which is a certain Church adjoining to the Marketplace, and stands right over against the prison, and those Offices belonging there into, there we made in secret unto him a private relation, how the case stood with us. Then said my father in Law unto him; Senor N▪ This business shall be many Ducats in your way; you know very well how I dealt with you in my last troublesome suit, and how fairly things were carried betwee●…e us on both sides; and I must also truly confess unto you, that by your good means, all the decrees and sentences that were published in that cause, came forth in my favour, turning greatly (for the which I must ever thankeyou) to ●…y profit and credit, which makes me hope (presuming upon your wont lou) for all good from your hands. My son in Law, owes by a former writing to th●…s of mine a 1000 D●…cats, and this is already presented, and diligences used ther●… 〈◊〉 in another Office; yet we are both of us very willing, that all this business●… hold be brought before your Worship, & that you should have the ordering of it; in consideration whereof, we hope you will deal well with us, & use us f●…endly, being so much your servants, as we are; for I shall not only myself req●…e this your kindness to your own good content & liking; but my son, that is he with me, shall, when our business is dispatched, bestow 200 Crowns on yo●… to buy you gloves; and I will pass my word unto you for him, and shall see yo●…ly paid. The Escrivano told us; All shall be done to your mind, & as well as you yourselves would have it. Let this bill, said he, of 4000 Ducats be first presened, & we shall accord the debt for ten in the hundred, by means of a friend, to ●…hom we will give an account of this pretention, to the end that he may do it ●…on any reasonable consideration, that we shall give him, and for the rest lay ●…he care upon me, and leave it to my charge. My father in Law, presented hi●…●…wne bond: In conclusion, I was carried to prison, all my goods were seized 
Guzman committed to prison.  o●… my wife she brings forth the Indenture for her Dowry, taking so much cath to themselves, that there was a great deal of stuff wanting to make up 〈◊〉. For both of them, having possessed themselves of my house, my b●…s, and my moucables, there was nothing now left for me to take hold on ●…h my teeth. And for my jewels, and my moneys, they were sold, and spent, ●…d that little that was remaining, was too far out of my reach to come at it.  
When my Creditors saw me cl●…pt up, they came all upon me, entering their ●…ctions against me, presenting their bills and their bonds before diverse & sundry ●…otaries: But when this bond of ours was brought forth, all were to yield to hat, as one that commanded all the rest, and had already past the Office, as be●…g the most ancient debt, & therefore aught to be served first. For the Alcaldes, ●…eeing it was res iustificata, a good and authentical bond, and proved so to be, gave order that should be first satisfied. When they saw what an ill hand they 
Proverb.  had of it, and that they could not come to finger my goods, they presently went about to embark those my 500 Ducats of that annual rent, before specified. But the true owner than appears, & defends his own right, my wife's Uncle claiming those, as belonging properly unto him. Then they fell to Law about it, whose bills, and answers, together with other writings, processive, iustificative, obligative, testamentive, partitive, acquisitive, renunciative, and infinite other the like, being as the body of a great Army, when they were all joined together, came to no less than two thousand and five hundred sheets of paper. Every one, that came to demand them, for to carry them to his Advocate, when he saw, that he must, before he could have them, pay so much money to the Notary, he did tremble at it. And albeit there were some, that were at the charge; yet there were other some, who seeing that they were like to have a cold suit of it, and that they should but throw away their money in vain, would not be at the cost to take them out, but did rather desire to come to some indifferent terms of agreement, & to sit down with loss, then to be at any more charge, and in a choleric humour, to cast the 
* Echar la soga, tras el caldero. Caldero, is commonly taken for a bucket, which serves to take water out of a Well. Now, echar la ●…oga, tras el caldero, To sing the rope after the bu●…ket, is, when we have lost one thing, to throw the other after it. This proverb is taken from one, who going to draw water out of a well, the buck●…t slipping from the rope, and falling into the Well, in a rage throws the rope after it, wherewith, if he would but have had the patience, he might have ●…ot up his bucket again. Covarr. verb. Caldero. Guzman released.  cord after the cauldron. They well perceived, that albeit they had taken out a Copy of the Process, they were as far to seek of their money, as before; And therefore seeing there was nothing to be got by the bargain, their loss remediless, and their debt desperate, they did help to negociate for me, and to come to composition with me. I demanded ten years' term; and some of them were well contented with it. Then began my Father in law to stir in the business, and because his was the greater debt, he wrought so with them, that the lesser debts followed the example of the greater, by which means I came out of prison, and was set at libert●… the Escrivano having well licked his fingers on both sides: whosoever lost, I am sure he got well by the bargain. After all these storms, my ship, and goods sunk, I made a shift at last to get a land, I came swimming to the shore in a pair of li●…en linings, being stripped of all the rest, yet were these linings well lined with ●…uer. I had a great deal of wealth of diverse poor men remaining still in my ●…ds, who had trusted me with all that they had, being deceived by that credit ●…ich I had abroad in the world. I did in this, as I used to do in all the rest of my actions; I was no changeling; only I proceeded herein with a little more credit, and a better kind of name, which my other had no colour for. For albeit ●…is was no better than theft (to speak the truth of it) and plain robbery; y●…t I continued still with the name of Merchant, and not of Thief. By this, I go●… experience of that, which I knew not before. This roguish trick, till now ●…d I never understand what it was, nor did so much as once enter into the reck●…ng of it. This seemed unto me cautelam damnosissiman, a very hurtful wariness, 〈◊〉 caution too too cautelous, which ought narrowly to be looked into, and some g●…od remedy in this case to be provided. For by these their counter-writings, the●… is no debt certain, no assurance good, nor any true security to be had; being ●…e most prejudicial thing that can be to a Commonwealth. For, from thence ●…e occasioned most of your Lawsuits; by means whereof, many of poor, com●…o 
Against fraudulent conveyances.  be rich; & many of rich, to be poor; being thereby utterly undone, & driu●… to beg their bread from door to door. And it being the intention & purp●…e of a good judge, to aver the truth between litigant and litigant, and suc●…s wage law one against another, & duly to administer justice to every man arig●…t; yet is it not possible for him in this case so to do, because things are so intric●…e and so entangled one within another, that they which are most innocen●…, 〈◊〉 oftentimes most deceived, and by consequence most wronged. And the r●… son of it is, because when a man doth plot a deceit or cozenage in this kind, 〈◊〉 goes warily to work, & beats his brains how he may secure himself, posse sing himself beforehand of the ports and passages that lead unto the truth, t●… the end, that the way thereunto may be barricadoed & blocked up, that no bo●… may come unto it. So that this light being taken away, the judge remaineth blind, and that man's false play, which is not yet found out by justice, triumphs over truth, and go●…s away with the victory. I know there are same, that will not stick to say, that your counter-writings, for commerce and negotiation, are very necessary; b●…t I must be so bold with these men, as to tell them plainly, that they are not. For he that is willing to help another m●…n with his credit, let him stand (a God's nam●…) as a surety for him, & not as a cloaker of his knavery. That which I learned in Barcelona, the first time that I was there, & now within 
The order in Barçelona, that is take●… with your Me●…hants.  these two day●…s, since my return from Italy, is; That to be a M●…rchant, is a dignity, and an honourable calling; and no man can have that title, vnless●… he be first presented before the Pri●…, & the C●…nsuls; where he puts in security to deal faithfully & truly in the Trading, that he sh●…ll undertake. And yet in Castille, where there 〈◊〉 such a Machina of merchandizing, such a great Trade driven, where there is Co●…ractation for whatsoever commodities, the huge store-house of the 〈◊〉 doth in a manner afford, they take this noble pro●…ession upon them, when as they are neither men of ab●…tie, nor able to put in good security for that which they deal for; but are only ●…ich in shi●…ts and tricks, and more cunning in deceiving those, who give them credit, then skilled in an honest course of Trading. Every one now, will take upon him to turn M●…rchant; whereas in other parts of the world, he that enters thereinto, had need of a good stock to begin withal, & a greater every day than other, if he mean to continue in that course. And if perchance it so fall out, that (through want of a strong brain, or a strong purse, or both) their businesses fall out contrary to their expectation, & succeed otherwise then their false imagination did suggest vn●…othem, making use of these their counter-writings, they remain in better and richer estate, then th●…y did before. I need not to instance in particulars, because it is exemplified unto us by daily experience. With their breaking, they pull a great many others after them, especially all those, that have trusted them with their goods; who consume that little t●…t is le●…t them in s●…ing fo●… their own. And if pe●…ad 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 they be O●…ficers, or Husbandmen, the Lord with their loss, loseth likewise his part; wanting those by this means, which should follow his profi●…, and ●…eceiue his ren●…s, and his 〈◊〉 and the Commonwealth thereby robbed of the ●…rauell & pains of th●…se 〈◊〉 & industrious day-labo●…rers, & honest husbandmen; who being 〈◊〉 in suits or Law, cannot apply themselves to follow the plough, & to manure & d●…esse their land as they were wont to do. Less harm it were a great deal, that a few, and those b●…ggage-people, should not be rich, then that a great many good & honest men, should be onerthrowne, and undone by them. I●…●…t were not for these Co●…ter-writings, and fraud●…lent deeds, men might more securely trast one another, and there would be much better dealing in the world: For then a man m●…ght have certain knowledge of his estate and means, whom he trusts, without having other owners step forth, and challenge all that he hath to be theirs. And because it may be, that at some time or other, there will be order taken for the remedying of this so great a misc●…iefe, I will only briefly tell the effects (that I may be as good as my wo●…d) of this harmful coz●…age, if they d●… not the sooner leave off these their da●…nable fraudulent trick, and de●…ses. For qu●…stionlesse, many men would deal more honestly and plainly, then now they do, if these f●…bs and gigs, were not put into their heads by oth●…. And hence i●… i●…, that many thing●… lose those good effects, which otherwise they wo●…ld take, 〈◊〉 that these strange owners are not made known in 〈◊〉, w●… 〈◊〉 no●… only inue●…, but execute what they have de●…ised, cheating ●…he Creditor 〈◊〉 that just debt which is due unto him. I cannot choose but speak my mind●… and 〈◊〉 the●…e be no ca●…e taken for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of this gr●…e 〈◊〉, I ●…not d●… withal. It shall su●…ice me, that I have herein s●…tisfied t●…at 〈◊〉 and duty, 〈◊〉 in ●…is c●…se is required at my ha●…. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 likewise look t●… thei●… obligations; and seeing, they neither want age, nor discretion to look into these things, let them not also be wanting in their good will, to redress that, which is so necessary for the service of God, and of their King, it concerning so much as it doth the general good of the Commonwealth.  
When a poor Merchant is minded to enter into great trading, he entreats (for the increase of his credit) some kinsman, or friend of his, that he will make over some land of good value, or other his goods in trust, for the which he makes him a Counter-writing, wherein he acknowledgeth, that notwithstanding these parcels of lands or goods seem to the world to be his, yet really and truly it is not so, and that he shall be ready at all times to resign them up into their hands, to whom of right they belong, whensoever they shall demand the ●…ame of him. And so with the credit of this seeming stock of his own, he gets farther credit of others, & takes up upon trust, what he will himself. See now, what a kind of people we are, and what true dealing there is amongst us! How like unto those Moors and Negroes of Ghinie, an ignorant and barbarous kind of people, who with counterfeit beads, false earrings, bells, and other the like babbles, which children wear about their necks, do with the bare sound, gay show, and glorious glittering of these glassy commodities, cousin and deceive us. If their trading thrive well with them, it is well; for then the Creditor shall receive what is due unto him: If ill, they have a trap, wherein to catch their Creditors, and all goes ill with them. Then he, that made over his goods unto him in trust, comes by a Counter-writing to recover them, and all the rest are defrauded of their due.  
When a man will not pay what he owes; before the day of payment comes, that this debt is due, the debtor selleth, or absolutely passeth away all his whole estate in trust by some fraudulent deed, or counter-writing in that kind. And it afterwards so falleth out, that before the day of payment come, the debtor, who made this cautelous provision, dies; whereby the true Creditor cannot come to recover his own. For the party, whom the debtor trusted with his goods, doth cover and conceal this Counter-writing; so that the Feoff in trust carries away all his goods, and the devil the deceased down to the pit of hell.  
When a man hath a purpose to deceive with his person, to get him a wife with a good dowry, the better to cozen both himself and others, he runs the like course. He gets himself to be trusted with a great deal of wealth; and anon after that he is married, his debts begin to grow upon him, and living at a greater charge than before, he is not able to pay what he owes. So the owner of these goods recovers his own, and the new married couple fall into want. This his cozening of her, coming at last to be known, their love begins to cool each towards other, and oftentimes they go together by the ears, for that the wife will not consent that he shall sell away her dowry, or any way be charged with her husband's debts.  
All which inconveniences, would find a speedy and easy remedy, if there were an express command given, that there should be no such kind of fraudulent deeds, and Counter-writings at all; and if there were any, that they should be of no force or validity in Law, and that any Act in that kind should not stand good. And for the present, any such deed or deeds, to be published and made known within such a certain time, upon pain of taking the others debts upon him. If this course were taken, men might then certainly know, what a man's estate were, and whether he were of that sufficiency to be trusted, and to take up upon credit. And I dare be bold to say, that thereby one half of your Lawsuits would be excused; for that most of those, which are here in Castille, are of this nature, or at least, have their ground and beginning from thence.   

CHAP. III.  
Guzman de Alfarache prosecutes the success of his marriage, till such time as his wife died. And how her Dowry returned back to his father in Law. He discourseth of bad wives, and the hurt which they do their husbands.  
READER; Hast thou by this time considered with thyself, into what a Labyrinth I was willing to put myself? What good can it do me? or why do I spend and consume my time in vain, basting stones with butter, and annoyn●…ing flints with oil, to see if I can supple them, and make them become soft? Dost thou think I shall make the Blackmoore white, by my often washing of him? Or dost thou conce●…e, that any good will come of that which I have said? Will it bring forth any profitable fruit? I rather believe that I spend my breath in vain, beat my brains to no purpose, and lose both my cost and my labour, without receiving either profit, or honour thereby. For I know I shall be tit in the teeth, with that old answer; Why should he give counsel to another, that cannot follow it himself? It would have suited better with me, to have told them two or three merry tales, wherewith Mistress such a one, and my Lady what you call (who are now quite tired out, and begin to nod, being brought asleep with these fooleries) might have entertained themselves, and past away the time. Me thinks I hear him say, who is now reading, what I have written, that he will cast aside my book, and rather get himself into some corner, and there take a nap, then endure the trouble of hearing me talk. I confess, he hath a thousand reasons on his side, to do as he does; nor can I blame him; for, being truly (as they are) truths, which I treat; they are not so fit for entretinimiento, as sentimiento, enterta●…nment, as the understanding; being to be respected more, for the sense, than the conceit: These are not things fit for laughter, and to make merry when friends meet; but are to be weighed with a great deal of study, and consideration; and to be ruminated, and chewed over, again and again. But because the purge, that I shall give thee to cleanse thee, may not seem loathsome unto thee, or that thou mayst refuse to take it, propter malum olòrem & saporem, for its ill both smell, and taste, let us gild over these our pills with gold, or cover them with the pap of an Apple, conserves of Roses, or some thing else, that may please both the eye, and the palate. And so I return again to the purpose, from whence I have made this digression.  
Now did I begin to lift up my head again, and to enter afresh into the world; I had a new stock a going, the best I could make, though much less than I could have wished it, and meaner than stood conveniently with my present both necessity, and occasions. For to bear a good 
a Para grande ca●…ga grandes fuerças Advertisements for those that will marry.  burden, a man had 
Proverb.  need of a good back; and they who build Towers on the sand, see them quickly fall to the ground. Those that have a mind to many, must have where withal to m●…ke the 〈◊〉. The good man must be able to give his wife a dinner; and she bring wherewithal to bestow on him a supper. There is more goes to mari●…ge, then two pair of legs, in one pair of sheets. Four naked walls, six carpets, two tablecloths, and half a dozen napkins, are not a Dowry for a wife, when at the first entrance into the house, I m●…st spend upon her in jewels, and other idle dress, that out of which I should pick my living. My principal was gone, and I was now in want. For (as it is in the proverb) Quien 
Proverb.  compra lo que no ha' menester, vend lo que ha menester: He that 
b Quien comp a lo que no ha men●…ster, vend lo que ha menester.  buys that he needeth not, must sell that he hath need of. What profit can it be for a poor Tradesman, to trick up his wife in some six cha●…ge of gowns, wherein he consumeth his main stock? Can he afterwards continue his Trade with this tr●…sh?  
My Gentlewoman, my wife, was ill acquainted, and less exercised in miseries. She had lived well at home with her father, she knew not there what want meant, but had the world at will, there was not that dainty she desired, which she had not; but now in my house, she had nothing less, though as long as my wealth lasted, she lacked not any thing, that she had a mind unto. But being not able any longer to hold out, she was forced to work and sweat for her living, and being not used heretofore to take pains, it seemed the harder unto her to endure it. With that little, which was now remaining unto me, I began to buy at dear rates upon credit, and to sell good cheap for ready money, sicut erat in principio. I stood engaged, and my father in Law bought the wares. I could have wished the balance had weighed the contrary way. And these commodities that we dealt for, never went out of the house. Our ordinary wares, were gold thread, and sometimes wrought plate, and jewels of gold, handsomely set forth, curiously inchased, and for the fashion exceeding neat and delicate: Some other things we had of little or no value, old moth-eaten ware, which lay upon our hands, and could not be rid away, which were bought at a far lesser price. And thus out of those small gains, that we made, we rubbed out, and made a shift to live as well as we could. But all was little enough to bring the world about, because our stock was so little: & so by little & little, we went eating of it out, it consuming by degrees. And for all we were brought to this low ebb, my wife's dowry was never so much as once touched or fingered by me, that stood still on foot, being laid out upon possessions, which my wife would never consent should be meddled with: I could as well take the Moon in my teeth, as to come to lay hold on them; nay I could not so much as have a sight of them. These our commodities, we did deliver forth upon credit for four months, with condition to have a fifth part of the gains. And that Escrivano (whom we had ready upon all occasions, to serve our turns) did always make testification of the consigning over of these commodities, which goods, a Broker presently took into his hands, who made up the third person in these our dealings, and was all one as it were with myself and the Escrivano. And having them in this manner made over unto him, within some two hours after he would bring the money to its owner, to such loss, as he himself should say they were sold (as was ordered between us) though he had not sold one pennyworth of them, but had them still in safe custody, and were never so much as once removed out of the house. We made up the money amongst us: He received an Acquittance for his discharge, and there was an end of this business.  
It was a common trick amongst us, to make use of a most cunning and subtle 
Gentlemen in Spain cannot be arrested for debt.  stratagem, to the end that none might escape our fingers, by alleging his Gentility, or any other exception that might bestead him, or free him from arrest. When we were to furnish any man, we would first inform ourselves, whether he had the means to pay us; and knowing him to be a sufficient man, and that he took up such or such commodities, only to supply his present occasions, we did willingly give him credit: howbeit, it would sometimes so fall out, that we should come short of this our reckoning, and those men fail us, whom we thought to be very good men, and of good wealth. But when we had no perfect knowledge of the party, & that it did not sort to our purpose, we would demand a Surety, together with the mortgage of some house, or piece of land, for default of payment. And howbeit we knew well enough, that this house, or land, thus mortgaged was none of his, and that whatsoever he had was extended already for the payment of his debts, and that he had not so much as a tile or brick that was in it, which was not indebted in a crown, yet we did not stand so much upon that, nor was this the thing that we did much care for, and were willing it should be rather so then otherwise: But that which we did aim at was this, To draw him to acknowledge by a writing under his own hand, that this house or land, was his own fee-simple, free from all kind of encumbrances, mortgages, sessings, rents, feoffments of trust, or otherwise obliged for any other debt whatsoever. And with this assurance, when the time of payment was come, if he broke his day with us, we had an Alguazil still at hand, with whom we were in league, who made him to give us so much for every tenth part that we delivered unto him, and so we presently came upon the back of him, putting our bond in execution.  
And if at any time they would oppose the arrest, or did offer to make any resistance 
To resist an arrest in Spain and to draw his sword against a Sergeant, is a whipping matter, besides a condemning to the Galleys; and if he strike or hurt the Alguazil, it is punished with death.  for to escape the hands of justice, that he might not pay the debt; then came we upon him another way, bringing a criminal action against him, and making a diligent search and enquiry into his estate, we would prove that it was not extended to its true value; that there was some legger-demayne used therein, and that he had dealt falsely and deceitfully to defeat his Creditors, laying to his charge many other his misdemeanours. And thus did we make sure work for ourselves, whilst the poor man slipped down the hill, without being able to recover himself, or to stay the force of his sudden falling. Using this precaution, we played upon sure cards, and without this provision made beforehand, we seldom prevailed in our businesses. Whether this kind of dealing were lawful or no, I know what I know; but we ran the same course we saw others run before us, we did no more than what others did; our consciences were seared, so that we had no great sense or feeling of it. I well wot, that all the while I continued this wicked course of life, I did never truly confess my sins; and if I did come to Confession, I did not do it as I ought to have done, and performed that duty for no other cause in the world, but to satisfy the Parish, and to avoid Excommunication.  
Wilt thou see whether it be so or no? Consider whether I ever promised to make restitution, whensoever it should be in my power to do it? Or whether I had likewise a purpose to amend my lewd and wicked life, when at that time there were fifteen, twenty, or more bonds a foot of the like nature; and yet did I never go myself, nor use any diligence by others, to acquaint those that were thus bound, that such and such a bond was unlawful, and that I had grated upon them with a griping and biting Usury; and that for to clear my conscience, and that I might worthily receive the blessed Sacrament of the Communion, I would abate them of the ouer-plus, and make good all that which I had wrongfully and unlawfully taken from them? And how that I would restore unto them besides, all that which I had, for that it was all stolen, and had nothing that I could justly and truly say was mine own. And if afterwards, when they came to pay me, I had no relenting in me, nor did not return them any thing back again, what an intention must this be? Certainly as bad as bad may be. This truly is that which I ought to have done, but I did it not, nor is it in use nowadays to do such good things as these. God (if it be his will) give us a due acknowledgement of our sins. And I verily persuade myself, that if then at that time I had finished this my life, my soul had assuredly gone down to hell, and been condemned to fry in that eternal fire.  
O, your Usurers, they are a wicked generation of Vipers: they have neither any conscience, nor any fear of God. O what a brave, and what a sure mark is this to shoot at! Howneere am I now to the drawing of mine arrow up to the head? And how do these traitorous villains, these Caterpillars ofa Commonwealth, stand peeping and watching to see how, and where, I mean to hit. O, what a temptation do I feel, what a struggling do I find in myself, & what ado to pull in this hand and arm of mine, from letting fly my whole sheaf of arrows at them, and so to wound and gall them on all sides, that I leave no part about them untouched, and no bone in their whole body unbroken▪ For, in regard that I am (as they say) Ladron de casa, a house-thiefe, one of the same stamp, I know them as well as they know themselves, & am not only acquainted with their actions, but even with their very thoughts, & secrets of their hearts. Will you give me leave to give them a gentle nip, and that I make them to see their own perdition, and put them into such a great confusion, that they shall not know in the world what to do●… with themselves. I know that ye will not, and I also know why you will not.  
But if I shall speak the truth, I must plainly tell you, Riches are the cause of 
This is a digression. Against the greedy de●…re of riches.  all this. But when they are ill gotten, in what misery lives the soul of such a one? Certainly, it is in a very bad case. And hence it cometh to pass, that covetous men too much devoted unto riches, incur infinite troubles, perils, and hazards. And therefore to free himself from this danger, and the better to secure himself, Crates the Theban, that most famous Philosopher, with an undaunted 
Crates throws his goods into the Sea.  courage, bound up in one pack or farthel together all the gold & other such precious jewels as he had, & with great fury threw them into the sea, saying: get you gone, o ye riches, into the bottom of the sea, lest you drench me in the deep. I had rather drown you then you should drown me. But this great Philosopher (by his leave) did herein (me-thought) very ill. Much better had he done, if he had distributed these his goods amongst the poor: but in doing that which he did, he gave us thereby to understand the great trouble that gold bringeth with it; so that to him it seemed a far lesser inconvenience to remain poor, then to live in so many griefs and afflictions, as riches occasion in those that possess them. What other thing is it to enter with consideration into the mind of the rich, then to enter into a fearful prison, where within we see men imprisoned, laden with irons, bound with chains, fettered, manacled, and girt about the neck with collars of iron, wherewith they are brought before the judge? And how many than are the afflictions, and the torments, of these miserable and wretched men, thus incarcerated, and compassed in with strong walls, and hard chains? And how much more are they oppr●…ssed, and how much heavier are their shackles, who jove riches, and those most bound, who most abound in them? And as there is more compasiion had of those which are in these miseries, and are thus fast bound, and painfully laden with bolts, manacles, collars and chains of iron, about their fee●…, hands, necks, and their whole body throughout: So much more pity is there to be taken of the rich, and see how much the richer he is, and the more wealth he hath about him, and all those good things which his heart desireth, yet for all this are we not to account him a rich and wealthy man, but rather wretched and unfortunate: For besides the prison, wherein he lives (miserable as he is) he finds himself attended and guarded with a barbarous and cruel keeper, which is the love of riches. And if it so happen, that thou fall at any time into their hands, there is no getting out of their clutches: but that they may keep thee safe when they have thee, and that thou mayst not escape from them, they will have three or four strong doors shut upon thee, and as many great chains to make all sure, besides locks and keys, with I know not how many double wards and bits, that all the picklocks in the world, that ever have been, shall, or will be, shall not be able to open these doors, and set thee free from thence. And yet these wretched creatures are so blinded in the pleasure which they take in this their imprisonment, that they never think upon it, nor seek to get out, but are content to continue in it all the days of their life.  
Bona●…enture saith, that he who hath once set his affection on gold, can hardly withdraw his love from it. King David saith, That our soul cleaveth unto the dust, and that our belly traileth on the ground, and is as it were fastened and glued to the earth: Unfolding thereby the affection which we have to these earthly thing. For seldom or never are riches possessed, without a man's settling his affection upon them, it being so easy a thing to have it wedged to the things of this world. And by so much the more, by how much the more strongly the heart of man is knit unto them. The Gloss saith, That with difficulty we despise them; and with loathness leave them. But the safest and surest way is, neither to love them, nor to keep them. And therefore that Kingly Prophet said, If riches increase, set not thy heart upon them. True it is, that they are as hurtful for the soul, as dangerous for the body. And therefore our Saviour Christ, much pitying and lamenting those who possessing them, did heartily love them; said: Woe unto you that are rich, for ye have already received your comfort. And S. james likewise with a great deal of grief and sorrow, doth bewail and lament these kind of men, saying; Go to now ye rich men, weep and howl for the miseries that shall come upon you: your riches are corrupted, and your garments moth-eaten: your gold and silver is cankered, and the rust of them shall be a witness against you; and shall eat your flesh, as it were fire: you have heaped treasure together for the last days. Behold, the hire of the Labourers, which have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, cryeth: And the cries of them which have reaped, are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. Ye have lived in pleasure on the earth, and been wanton; ye have nourished your hearts, as in a day of slaughter. Ye have condemned and killed the just, and he doth not resist you. Bemourne therefore the miseries wherein you are, for your riches shall end in anguish and vexation of spirit, and all your comforts shall forsake you: you shall sleep your sleep, and when you awake find your hands empty.  
David saith, Rich men turn fools through their too much wealth: they become ambitious and vain, they give themselves over to a thousand vices; they suffer a thousand sharp journeys, and as many troublesome toilings, for to get riches; which when they have got, they have a daily fit of fear and trembling, lest they may chance to lose them. The imagination of their loss causeth extreme sorrow in them: their brains are still working, and their understanding never taketh any rest. For, (as our Saviour said) Where a man's treasure is, there also is his heart. O wretched man, thou dost not any thing in this world, that is so bad for thee, as the love of money. For they, that seek to make themselves rich, fall into a thousand temptations, and into as many snares, which the Devil hath laid to entrap them. For the root of all evil, is covetousness. This causeth us to commit sacrileges, thefts, murders, rapines; it is the author of simony, the causer of vs●…ring contracts, of ungodly gain, and of a thousand deceits, and frauds, of break, both in our deeds, and in our words, of perjuries, and perverting of justice. O, what an unquenchable fire, is the desire of riches; O how insatiable is this our lust, but much more insatiable our will. Tell me (he that can) who did ever yet see the rich man satisfied? who, hear him say, That he had now enough? For, when he hath got what he desired, he hath no sooner obtained it, but he is as greedy as he was before; like unto your hungry Curs, who when you throw them one morsel, stand gaping for another. His end is always on that he desireth, forgetting how full he is, and the store of wealth that he possesseth. The eye of a lover is never satisfied with looking; And the covetous mind hath never money enough. But (which is a curse that accompanieth the covetous) he that loveth riches, never reaps the fruits of them. Hell is never satisfied with the swallowing down of souls; neither the eyes, nor heart of the covetous, with riches. For these wicked men, have two horseleeches belonging unto them, which always cry, give me here, and give me there; let more and more come in still. By so much the more the love of money increaseth, by how much the more our money increaseth. O what a false and unfortunate felicity is that of riches 〈◊〉 because it maketh him truly unhappy, who doth not truly possess them.  
The poor man lives more contented with that little which he hath; then the rich man that walloweth in his wealth. O how many have been deceived with the desire of riches! Balaam, hearing the ringing and sound of money, which King Balack offered unto him, fell into despair, and had a miserable end. Acha●…, being desirous of a rich raiment, and a wedge of gold, was slain, and stoned to death, together with all his family. King Achab, out of the desire he had to have Nabothes vineyard, was the occasion of Nabothes death, who by jezabels' order, wife unto Ahab, was stoned to death: For which evil fact, Ahab was deprived of his life, and his Kingdom; and his wicked wife jezabel, the inventor of this villainy, devoured of dogs. Gehezi, out of a desire to be rich, received so many changes of raiment; for which he was clothed all his life time, with a most loathsome leprosy. judas, to get thirty pieces of silver, lost his Apostleship, and his body, together with his soul, by becoming his own executioner. Ananias and Saphyra, out of greediness of gain, were suddenly strucken dead. If thou wilt be rich, thou shalt not be without sin: for such is their miserable and unhappy condition.  
Moreover, it induceth men to embrace vice and to abandon virtue; it falling out for the most part, that where the●… is abundance of riches, there is abundance of pleasures, and sensual delights, and of evil company, which are often an occasion of infinite infamies, and wicked actions, with great offence to the Majesty of God. The rich think that God hath no power over them; but they are much deceived; who with open eyes see themselves carried headlong into hell. And this misfortune befalls them, because the fear of God is not before their eyes; and for that they love not their neighbour as they ought: But rather on the contrary, love their riches better than themselves, nay more than their own souls. O miserable and unhappy men as you are; look, and diligently consider that which happened unto Lazarus, that poor beggar, who received mo●…e contentment in that his extreme poverty, and in those his rags and stinking sores, living in the fear of the Lord, then in any other thing in this world; by means whereof, he came to enjoy those rich treasures of heaven, and the continual and ete●…nall vision of his God. For a man to make himself rich, it is a dangerous thing; for before ever he is aware, he draws upon him an infinity of all kind of troubles and miseries. It is a wonder to see at how dear a rate they buy hell, who pretend to be rich; seeing with how many restless travails, they purchase eternal torments.  
Wicked and worldly-minded men, for a ●…tile vain glory, or rather a smoke that sod inly vanish●…th, care not how many tribulations they undergo; for love of this, they submit themselves willingly to infinite sufferings, toils, and sweats, and voluntary stoop their neck to the heavy yoke of so many woes. And why do they this? Only for a little m●…cke. So that your rich men take a great delight in suffering annoyances, afflictions, tribulations, toilings, turmoilings, travails, troubles, using diligences, solicitudes, and placing all their care, and their study, in getting wealth, and with it, Hell. By which their ca●…ke, painstaking, and sweats of blood, they gain unto themselves eternal damnation. Do ye not perceive (ye wretches) that how much the more care ye take in hoarding up of riches, so many the more thiefs, and murderers you provide for yourselves, that may rob you, & cut your throats? whence it also cometh to pass, that they who did commit these outrages against you, are likewise for this their wickedness whipped, sent to the Galley's if not to the Gallows, and there hanged and quartered.  
That man is a fool, that boasteth himself of his riches; For why should any man glory in that, which takes away the safety of his life? Rich●…s deprive us of our lib●…rty. We should be our own, it these were not our own: And masters of ourselves, if these were not our masters. Riches take not away want, but occasion it; draw not on content, but withdraw it from us. They are massed up with trouble, possessed with fear, & forgone with sorrow. The rich man therefore hath need of many things, and must submit himself to many basenesses, and vile ind●…ncies, being that he is evermore besieged and assaulted with fears, jealousies, and suspicions. They are full of perturbation, and confusion; the common subject of murmuring and repining. They scratch and scrape all that they can rap and wring from others. They are daily more and more inflamed with the desire of getting. In a word, they will commit any wickedness, or villainy whatsoever, so as they may be sure to get by the bargain.  
Harken to that, which was delivered unto me by a famous Preacher, who 
A merry tale delivered in the Pulpit by a Preacher.  discoursing upon this subject of rich men, amongst many other things, I remember he told us at that time of a certain picture, the upper and middle part of which square, or piece, was taken up by a great rich man, which was there portrayed forth to the life: On his right hand, stood a roaring boy, to fight for him, if need were; and on his left, a fool, to make his Worship merry, and to put him out of his dumps: both which were expressed in such a posture, as fitted best with them. Under this rich man, was drawn a country Clown; under the Clown, a Merchant; under the Merchant, a Counsellor at Law; under the Counsellor, a Confessor; under the Confessor, a Physician; and under the Physician, the Devil, with a long chain, whose links were made of women's tongues, which kept a horrible rattling. And he farther added, that the rich man had written over his head; These two I keep: The Clowns word was; I maintain these three: The Merchant's motto; I rob these four: The Counselor's posy; I pill these five: The Confessors; I absolve these six: The Physicians; I kill these seven: And the Devil had a label coming out of his mouth, which said; I carry away all these eight with me to Hell.  
All these, and many other the like mischiefs do riches beget, whose possessor purchaseth no other fame, save only; Lo, there goes a rich man: their riches being their total and eternal destruction. But your true riches indeed, are the virtues of the mind; which like invincible forts, defend those that possess them. Against these, neither all the men in the world, nor all the devils in hell can prevail: They may wage war against them, but they shall never overthrow them. O thou, that dost either read, or hear me, make virtue the end and centre of all thy desires, and there strike in the nail, that it may stick close unto thee. And here I will stop my pen, that I may not run myself out of breath, in the praising of that, which is so well able to recommend itself. But I would have thee withal to know, that as I have purposely & willingly made this considerable digression; so in all the course of my life, I have not done any thing more unwillingly, then to wink at these men, and to let them go by, without leaving some pawn behind them. But because they may not object unto me, that I spend all my discourse in Reformations, and in prying into other men's actions, I am the more willing to give way unto them, and for this once to let them alone. Another motive, that makes me loath to meddle with these Usurers, is; That I may have one day need of their help; and I would not willingly make them mine enemies, whom afterwards I must sue unto to stand my friends. In a word, we are so far forth to keep some kind of men our friends, as we may have occasion to use them, and as they may be profitable and beneficial unto us. And as a faithful friend is known in doing good, in time of need; so an enemy will never hide himself, when he may do thee a mischief.  
Only this one thing I will say; Let a man cast up his reckonings with himself, and when he finds, that he comes short of his Account, and that he stands in need of 200 Ducats to make it up, let him but take up so much upon Use, and he shall see them amount in two year, to more than six hundred. To how much more then, if a man take up more? And therefore it is good to have a care to the main, and to take heed, that we come not within such men's danger. For there is no such Cormorant, as Usury; it devoureth houses, and swallows down whole Lordships, as it were at a bit, and makes no bones of it. And if a man cannot get out of this bog, when he is but over shoes, how shall he do, when he is over boots? Or how shall he satisfy a great debt, that is not able to discharge a small one. But here let your Usurers (for me) rest in peace, and let me return back again to myself.  
I say then, that men, by not doing that which they ought to do, come in the end, to pay sound for that which they do. What doth it avail a man to gain much? What good to get, if he know not how to keep? Especially, seeing we 
Proverb.  are daily taught by experience, Que vale mucho 
c Mas vale all cuerdo la regla, que all necio la renta.  mas all cuerdo la regla, que all necio la renta: That a wise man will go farther with a penny, than a fool with a pound. His poor pittance (well husbanded) shall bring him in more profit, than all the others rents, though never so great. Such great odds, hath moderation, of revenue. He 
d El que twiere tiempo, no aguarde otro mejor.  that hath a time of it, let him take time, while time serves; 
Proverb.  and not lie lazing, looking for a better, yet let him not be so confident, nor so far presume upon his strength, that he do not keep a good and careful watch upon himself: He must look about with many eyes, and that diligently to, having an eye here, and an eye there; it oftentimes so falling out, that when we think ourselves safest, and freest from danger, than (when we least dream of it) we meet with a Martinus contra; some pad in the straw, or some 
e Vn Gil, que nos persiga. Giving us to understand, that escaping one thief's bonds, we fall into another's.  Gil to plague us. I had money in my purse; I once was rich, but now am 
Proverb.  poor. God he knows, why, and wherefore. I stood looking for a day, to set up my rest, and how to order the remainder of my life in some settled course; but this day never came: I did build too much upon mine own strength; it was ever my fault; I presumed I could recollect, and take up myself, how, and when I listed: being verily persuaded, that though I could cozen and deceive all others, I should never be such a fool, as to cozen myself. But here in me, you may see, how selfe-confidence, causeth a forgetfulness of God, and by trusting more to ourselves, then to him, hence it cometh to pass, that we lose not only our goods, but our souls. The greatest enemy that I had, was myself: Mine own hands, wrought mine own woe: And as the good actions of the good, are the reward of their virtue; so the bad actions of the bad, are the occasion of their greater torment. M●…ne own works did follow me. They were the furies that did persecute me: Whereof mine own naughty dealing, and other men's wickedness, were not the least part of this my misery. And God doth therefore permit, that that, which we make the instrument of offending him; the same he maketh to be our destruction. Nor did I so much grieve for the loss of my wealth; for I knew full well, that the goods of fortune come with her, and with her go their way. And that the more favour she showeth, the less certainty she assureth. That which did vex me to the very heart, was; That that, which should have been my comfort (I mean my wife) she, whom with such earnestness her father desired to marry unto me, and used a thousand means to effect it, that she, that was another myself, flesh of my flesh, & bone of my bone, that she should rise up against me, and prove a cross unto me, persecuting me without a cause, and for no other reason in the world, but only for that I was now grown poor. And that her hate should come to that height, that contrary to all truth, she accused me of keeping a wench at rack and manger, seeking by this means to find so much favour as to sue out a divorce, and procure a separation between us, not wanting a Lawyer to advise her thereunto, firming it with his own hand, that she might lawfully do it.  
This grief, of all other, was the greatest unto me; this wound struck deepest. For as Matrimony once contracted, cannot be dissolved; so when it is ill conjoined, it is hard to be endured. For a troublesome wife, is like unto a house, 
Of good and bad women.  whereinto the rain falleth, dripping into every room and corner thereof. And by how much the more she shineth in wisdom, and good government, when she will apply herself unto virtue; so much the more beastly she is, the more insupportable, and the more to be abhorred, when she departeth therefrom. What facility hath she, in all those things, that she hath a mind unto? What a cunning Scotist is she, for to compass what she longs for? Put the judgements of a thousand men together, yet shall they not equal the wit of one single woman, for to frame a lie on the sudden. And although it be commonly said, That when a man shuns company, and desires to be alone, he is aut Deus, aut Daemon, either a God, or a Devil, either spending his time in his service, or living like a beast; yet do I say, that the solitude, which he suffereth all alone, is not so great, as is the punishment, which he receiveth, in having ill company, and such as are contrary to his liking. I was rich, when I was not mariyed; mariyed, I became poor. The days of my Nuptials were joyful to my friends; but those ensuing days of my marriage, sad and mournful for me. T●…ey were jocund and merry, and went well contented home to their houses; but I remained to end are martyrdom in mine own dwelling; and for no other cause, but because my wife would have it so, and for that she was too proud, and presumptuous. She spent beyond measure, she had a high mind, and a l●…berall hand; and she had been used to see me come home, like the Bee, laden with much honey; and that I had sweet comings in, bringing her still one dainty or other to please her: She could not endure, to see me go forth in the morning, and bring nothing home with me at noon: She lost all patience, and was ready to run out of her wits, when the world did not go as she would have it. But now (ay me, poor wretch that I am) when she saw that all the oil was spent, that should maintain the week, and that also quite burnt out; and when she found, that we had not wherewithal to eat, nor knew where to get meat to put into our mouths, and that we were fain to sell our householdstuff to buy us bread; from hence grew all this mischief, here she lost her footing, and with it her patience; insomuch, that she could not afford me a good look; and (which is worse) did ever after hate me, as if I had been her mortal enemy. Neither my fair words, nor her father's admonitions, nor the entreaty of her kinsfolk, nor the persuasions of her friends and acquaintance, could win her to receive me into her former favour, or to recover her lost affection. She fled from peace, because she found it in discord; she loved unquietness, because it was her contentment; she would be revenged of me, by retiring and separating herself from me, both at bed and at board; and would refuse many times to eat her meat, for that she knew how well I wished her, and that it was a death unto me, to see her so to do. I knew not what to do with myself, nor how to govern my passions, by reason of the great difficulty that I found to give her content, which consisted only in feeding her with the fullness of money, which (God he knows) I extremely wanted. Truly it seemeth unto me, that there are some women, that only marry for to satisfy their own foolish longing, and to make trial, what a kind of thing marriage is, it seeming unto them, to be like unto an hired house; if they find themselves well in it, it is well; if ill, and that it be not to their mind, and fitted as they would have it, all is nothing, nor will they want one excuse or other, and two false witnesses to work a divorce. And besides other so many inconveniences, if it so fall out, that a man's wife being any thing fair and beautiful, and that some one or other happen to fall in love with her; but here I will be silent, & say no more. I could wish, that the Advocates, Notaries, and judges or such Courts, would open their eyes, and consider well with themselves, that that which they do therein, is no other thing, then to dissolve a matrimony, and to open a door to the Devil, that he may enter in, first to the loss of the wife's life, secondly to the husband's honour, and lastly, to both their undo. And I dare assure them, in the name of that all-powerfull and mighty God of heaven & earth, that a most grievous punishment shall be poured down upon them from above, which shall pay them home, and make the smart thereof intolerable. I would have them therefore to know, that these are secret sins, and that the plagues that shall come upon them, shall be also secret. Nor because the husband hath slashed his wife over the face, & given her a whores mark, or hath beaten her (like a slave) with a cudgel, let these men think, that this sin shall escape without punishment, for the chastisement is then inflicted upon them, when another taketh away his wife from him, God so permitting it. When he shall see his house full of dissension, infamy, & sicknesses, let him lay it to his soul & conscience, that these come for this cause. I speak not to one, but to all; let them put their hand in their bosom, and take themselves by the sleeve, as well those that are the occasioners, as they that are the favourers thereof, for they all sail in one and the same ship; and the fault is alike in both; and therefore are to look for the like punishment. Dost thou not see, how (on the wedding day) all things go trim and tricksy, what a troop attends us at our heels, what a deal of kind care & pains every man takes from the bridegroom to the guests, how contented they are, and how well pleased with their entertainment, the tables covered with neat and pure linen, the boards furnished with dainty fare, the bed 
f The Spanish phrase is; la cama hecha de lana nueva. The bed was made of new wool, or had new wool put into it. For in Spain, in regard of their heats, they have no feather beds.  handsomely made up, the sheets fine & sweet, & all the rest of the furniture answerable thereunto; all than was delicate, & delightful unto us. And thus it lasted with us for a while: But now that my moneys are gone, that our gallantry begins to go down, and that things go not so well with us as they were wont to do, the teat withdraws its milk, and the love of many years (as if it were a mortal sin) is lost in a moment. It is like to succeed with them, as it did with me, who was quite undone, not out of any insufficiency in myself, or want of care, and painstaking, for I had wit enough, and knew how to manage my affairs with good judgement. But I miscarried for the reasons I told you but a little before. This was God's handiwork, his chastisement was upon me. For, as he is infinite, so hath he no circumscription, his power is not bounded, his arm not limited to punish this man for this, and that other for that. In some things he pronounceth a set & determinate sentence, & for such a particular sin, such a penalty appointed, besides others, which appertain unto the soul, as also those that arise out of such & such circumstances. Mine was ill gotten gain, & therefore could not thrive with me. Malè parta, malè dilabuntur: Ill got, ill spent. Now when a woman is married to a man, and afterwards finds herself deceived, for that her husband proves not so rich, as he was reported to be, those goods that he hath, being other men's, and taken up upon credit; & likewise, that when he was to be married, he ran farther in debt, for the apparelling & setting forth of his wife, and that within a few days after, the Mercer comes to demand his money for the silks he had of him, & the Tailor for the making up of the clothes, and that the Sergeants be on the back of him both for the one, and the other, there is not any thing wherewith to pay them; & if there be, yet meat is more necessary, than the payment of debts. For whosoever goes without, the belly must be served; though we could cozen all the world besides, the belly will not be cozened. He will daily importune us, & we must daily satisfy him. It is a debt of nature, that must needs be paid: It admits no forbearance: it is a commandment without controlment; it is a rule without exception. When it comes to this, the peacock hangs down his tail, as soon as he looks upon his feet. The pride of his starry train begins to flag, and his hoarse trumpet shrieks out his pitiful complaints. The flowers than begin to wither; their pleasant spring is past; contentment & patience betake them to their heels. They presently set a sour face on the matter, like him that hath tasted sharp vinegar. And if you shall ask them then, what they have, how they do, how their husbands use them, how like of marriage? In stead of an answer, 
Proverb.  you shall have them stop their noses; it is 
g Quartidiano es, ya hiede.  fish of four days old; it is too stale, and begins to stink. They will not endure the moving of this stone; and will 
Proverb.  therefore tell you by some scurvy silent gesture or other: Speak no more of him 
ʰ No alçen la piedra.  for God's sake, let the man alone, do not stir the turd, that stinks too much already; let us talk of some other subject. But how can thy Lazarus (dear wife) being dead in his sins, otherwise choose, but stink, and lament his hard misfortune, being buried in the grave of thy miseries, from whence I shall never be raised up again to life? Doth he not lie entombed in the dark and strong sepulchre of thy vain thoughts? and in that hollow vault of thy noisome clamours, and pestilent importunities? Is he not shrouded in the winding sheet of thy love, tied to thy contents? Which he strives all that he can, to give thee, be it by hook, or by crook, with the expense of his purse, or the hazard of his person, having my hands bound, showing that I submit myself as humbly to thy subjection, as thou (good wife, wert thou good) should submit thyself to mine? He that hath charge of a wife, and family, let him hold his tongue, he cannot be at leisure to talk, he hath something else to do, he must employ himself in making provision to supply necessary wants, and perhaps is in want through thee, and is come to all this misery by thy means. Do not thou then complain that he stinks, seeing that he is putrified with thy impertinencies, finding himself thrust in amongst the worms of thy wasteful riots and excesses, which like so many devourers, lie gnawing upon his heart and bowels? Thy boldness in going abroad; thy liberty in conversing; thy exorbitancies in spending; thy wastefulness in scattering; thy vanity, in vaunting thyself, bragging and boasting thy birth & parentage, which hath so many mixtures, as there are differences of keys, and variety of stops, in an Organ. Hast thou a husband that can bear with all these, and much more; and yet is he fish of four days old? grows he stale with thee, and begins he now to stink? Tell me (I prithee) by the life and light (I conjure thee) of those thy fair eyes, and do not lie unto me; whether yesterday thou didst not visit such a Hermitage, such a Chapel, & such & such other places of devotion, making there thy vows, & thy offerings; but to what purpose, God he best knows? And is it not likewise true, that since thou hadst the use of reason (nay rather before thou hadst it, because thou yet wantest it) there was never yet any Midsummer night, or feast of S. john, wherein, without sleeping (for they say, that sleep hindereth the virtue and operation of those, you know what I mean) thou betookst thyself to such a prayer, thou know'st well enough what one, but better it had been for thee, that thou hadst not known it (being such a one as it is, and so much reproved) & without opening thy mouth, or speaking so much as one word (for they likewise say, that silence is another essential point of that prayer) thou shouldst stay waiting and looking for the first that should pass along by thee after midnight, to the end, that by what thou shouldst hear come from him, thou mightst accordingly judge of thy future marriage, & know him that should be thy husband, having therein a strong confidence & affiance, and giving the same credit & belief unto it, as if it were an article of Faith, or one of those of thy Creed, when as in very deed, they are no other than old wife's tales, the impostures of witches, & the mere fooleries of foolish women, & such as want judgement. And is it not also true, that there is not that Beata, nor that devout & religious woman, that thou hast not either been with her, or she with thee, to the same effect?  
Is it not true, that thou hast put on thy mantle, walking diverse stations with them, only for this purpose? Hast thou not forcibly laid hold on their garments, & torn the mantles of these Saints, who never throw them off from their shoulders, burning tapers, to thou know'st whom? Hast thou not broken the bounds of modesty without blushing, neither setting before thee thine own shame, or the fear of God? Hast thou left any sieve, without trying thy sorceries thereupon? or beans lie still in their place, which thou hast not made to leap and dance, by evil means, and by words, and charms, hated & prohibited by our holy Religion? Is there any matchmaker, or known friend of thine, whom thou hast not been importunate withal, telling them that thou art sick, & that thou longest for a husband? At last, God sends her a husband (I speak of others, not of myself) a quiet man, mild spirited, one that is careful to live, & an honest man, who takes pains, and labours hard to get a Royal wherewith to feed and maintain her, not suffering her to want her ointments, her paintings, and a thousand other toys & trinkets, as brooches, flowers, buttons, aglets, & the like, for the ornament of her person; & yet for all this, within four days, this man also grows stale, and stinks. If (poor soul) he do all that he can for thee, why dost thou afflict both him and thyself, and why should it turn thy stomach, and cause a loathing in thee, when others shall but name him unto thee? Why dost thou seek to defame him, by thy obloquys, detractions, depraving, reproaches, raylings, and revile? Why dost thou grumble at those good offices he does thee? Why misconstrue his kindness? Why fashion his affection according to thy false fancy, measuring his heart by thine own? Thou wouldst not have him digged out of his grave, but that the memory of him should sleep for ever, and yet thou digg'st him up with thine own hands, not sparing the very bones of his Ancestors, and harmless ashes of his whole lineage, throwing out lies and scandals by shovell-fuls to those that give thee the hearing, laying foul (but false) imputations upon him, proclaiming that (as they say) in the open marketplace of him, which neither dost thou know to be true, neither indeed is he guilty of. To what end then is all this outrage? I will tell thee; It is only out of her malice towards him, thinking by this means to affront and disgrace him. But thou dost therein, like thyself, thou showest thyself a right woman; full of change and mutability, fickle and inconstant; and would to God, these thy sudden, and undeserved alterations, do not arise (taking the course that thou dost) from the offences, that thou hast committed against thy husband, against thy God, and against thine own soul.  
Now that I am come hither, and brought thus, before ever I thought of it, into this port, I will unpacke my commodities, set up a both, and make show of all my wares, as your Pedlars and poor Mercers use to do, that go from Fair to Fair, and from Town to Town, opening them here to day, and there to morrow, without making any set residence, in this or that other place, and when they have sold all their trinkets, return home to their own country. Let us here set open our shop, and sell you some of these our good wares, and let us in open market make show unto you of the intentions of some kind of marriages; as well, that we may put those out of their error, who are led thereunto for those ends; as also for that they may know, that they are known; and it is fit, that we should tell them the ill that they do, because they truly do ill; and that done, we will presently return home again to ourselves.  
Some take this holy state of marriage upon them, out of no other consideration in the world, then to free themselves from the subjection of a Father or a 
Concerning marriage, and several ends leading thereunto.  mother, and to be at their own liberty, it seemeth to your foolish young girl, (be she Gentlewoman, or otherwise) that she shall presently be a freewoman; and that as soon as she is removed from her father's house, and received into that of her husbands, she may gad and run, where, and whither she list. That she shall have the Law in her own hands; that she shall command with authority, have wherewithal to give, and servants to wait and attend upon her, and to be at her beck. To these kind of creatures, subjection seems to be too sharp and cruel a tye upon them; and therefore easily suppose, that as soon as they are married, they shall on the sudden, be absolute in their Empire, powerful in their will, and sway all things as they list themselves. They will not stick to frame this argument to themselves; that their parents persecute them, that they are their daily torment, never suffering them to be at quiet, and that they shall find their husbands more soft and pliable than wax, and that they will prove kind and loving unto them. The growth whereof springs from this, That their fathers, in the life that they led with their wives, live like bruit beasts, whereby they raise up vain desires in their daughters, inflame their appetites, and cause them (by their ill example) to run a cross course; for, being (as they are) imprudent, they cannot distinguish of things aright; they embrace all, that is sweet and pleasant, thinking to meet with it, wheresoever they come, not thinking that there is any tartness or sourness in any, save only in their parents.  
These, and other the like idle conceits, disquiet their minds, making them not to care which end goes forward, it puts them besides their wits, and leaves them without any judgement. But as they look and gaze upon this, why do they not also with a fixed and settled eye, behold that other friend and acquaintance of theirs, who is married to a jealous fool, a rough and bitter husband, who not only gives her not a good word, but will not suffer her to step a foot out of doors, to take the air, and recreate herself, no not so much as to go to Mass, unless it be very early in the morning, and that in a cloth kirtle, and muffled up in a poor mantle, as if she were one of the servants of his house: And in a word, not using her as his wife, but as his slave that had fled, and run away from him. It is not so well (my masters) as you take it to be; and believe me, that good marriages are not chickens of every day's hatching; they happen good now and then by chance, or as it pleaseth God to send them; and it befalleth those that are married, as it fareth with him, that buys a Melon, for one dainty and delicate one indeed, which he may chance to light upon, he shall meet with a hundred other, which prove gourds and pompions in their taste and relish? Hast thou not observed that other familiar friend of thine, who hath married a gamester, who plays away all, to the very sheets wherein he lies, turning them into tablecloths, at a common dicing house? Dost thou not think upon that other neighbour of thine, whose husband keeps a whore under her nose, and never a morning throughout the year, but that he sends her out of the market a good basket full of provision, whilst his poor wife is ready to famish at home for hunger. Nor have they heard (as it should seem) of some husbands, who are no sooner entered within the doors of their own house, but that they level their eyes with their feet, and never lift them up, unless it be to chide, and find fault without a cause, and to feed this their pee●…ish and froward humour? Do these women haply think, that all wives are as much respected and beloved of their husbands, as they are of their fathers? I can assure you, that a bad father is to be preferred before a good husband; I have seldom seen a father that hath not still showed himself a father; but few husbands so kind, that they have still continued kind. And if any such, hath at any time been, that hath not been wanting to those obligations and duties, which belong unto wedlock, it may well be taken for a wonder. But I never knew a father cease to be a father, though his son ceased to be a son. There is many a good father, that will make much of a bad son; but seldom shall you see a bad hu●…band make much of a good wife.  
Others do marry, bec●…use (having neither father nor mother alive) they 
A second end.  desire to be out of their Tutors or Guardians hands; thinking that by them they are sold and robbed of that they have. They cast up their reckoning, and say with themselves, that a husband would manage their estate far better, and look a great deal more faithfully unto it, than a Guardian, who being loath to be dispossessed thereof, and to render that up into her hands, which is her own, takes no great care to prefer her, but does all that he can to keep her from marrying, hoping that to morrow she will fall sick, and die; and himself ha●…e all.  
And therefore, they say; How better were it, that mine own children should enjoy that which I have, then to leave it to my enemies, who wish my death, that they may inherit my goods. I will marry, that I will, I will to this gear, though it be with some foul filthy Negro, for my father did not take the pains to get that he did for my Guardian, nor was it his meaning, that he should lick himself hole by me, cutting himself large thongs, out of another body's leather, especially using me so untowardly as he doth, suffering me to go all to ragged, and torn, half starved for want of good meat, and not to much as one poo●…e Royal in my purse to buy me a few pins. This is that that makes them run headlong down the hill; and therefore taking counsel of the first they meet with; they think, that this their friend hath advised them well, and that what they tell them, is out of love, and a well wishing to their good: and being led thus along in this blindfold manner, they pitch upon a dunghill, where they are so bemired, that they shall never come off clean from thence, while they live, because they made choice of such a young gallant, that wastes all upon his back, and his belly, in good clothes, and good meat; whose main care is to pamper his body, keep his horses fat, bestow rich liveries on his servants, spend in feasts and banquets, leaving his wife weeping at home in a corner; and that which she purposed, and desired to leave to her children, to wit, the wealth that she brought with her, having now a housefull of little brats, she hath not one single penny to give, or leave unto them; for having matched with an unthrift, the wind hath blown it all away. And if she were afraid before, that her kinsmen, for to make themselves masters of her estate, did desire her death; sure her husband now wisheth it no less, for out of a humour of his that he hath, to shift clean linen, being now grown weary of so much wife, which never misses him at bed, and at board, he desireth, and peradventure also procureth, to put her under ground; and so this poor soul, deceived by herself and others, fails in the obtaining of that, which her false imagination proposed unto her.  
Others, of a less stayed temper, a kind of giddy-headed Hobby-horses, will 
The third end.  needs marry forsooth for pure love; these show themselves in Churches, and at public meetings; when they are at home at their own houses, their windows stand wide open, that they may see, and be seen; and in the night they lie tumbling and tossing in their beds, looking still when some one gallant or other should come under their Balcone, who with the Trin-Trin of his gh●…terne, should rouse them up from their unquiet rest.  
This or that other young wench, hears him sing certain coplas or verses, which Gerineldoes made to Donna Urraca, and thinks that they were purposely made for her. She is more black than the Crow, more foul than the Tortoise, more foolish than the Salamander, more ugly than the Rat; and because there they paint her forth, to be more fair than Venus, not leaving any box, or cabinet unsearched, from which they take not forth for her, Alabaster, Rubies, Turkeses, Pearls, Snow, jesmines, and Roses, even to the unnailing from heaven, of the Sun, and the Moon, setting her forth with Stars, and comparing her eyebrows, to the Rainbow, that beautiful Arch of heaven, they are taken as truly therewith, as if they did properly belong unto them, applauding themselves with these their undeserved praises: Being as an even so, or rather far otherwise.  
Alas poor silly fool, get thee gone, and soothe not up thyself with these glorious (but feigned) glosses; for he (I assure thee) that made them, did not so much as once dream on thee; he made them not for thee; or if he did, he lied, that he might deceive and abuse thee with his flattering of thee; knowing thee to be vainly given, and a lover thereof. Take heed, I advice thee of such a glozing companion; for he is a mere Emperique, who with one kind of syrup cures all sorts of persons, and diseases. He says the very same unto others, as he does unto thee. He readeth unto thee (to stir up thy desires) another Lecture, taken out of Diana, where he tells thee that he saw the burning flames of those fair Shephardesses, the Palace of that wise Dame, with all the riches & sumptuousness thereof, the pearls and precious stones wherewith it was adorned, those delicate gardens, and pleasant groves, wherein they took their pleasures and delights, and the dainty music which they had made unto them; and as if all this had been true, or might have been, and that the same things might one day happen to themselves, these poor fools begin to melt, and pine away for love.  
These wenches are like tinder, any the least spark that lights upon them, sets them all on a light fire; they are quickly tinded, and quickly ended, no sooner in, then out; they make a blaze, and dye.  
There are some others, that are a little more curious, who refusing to make themselves ready, and to buy other things more necessary for them, spend their money in hiring of books; and because they have read in Don Belianis, in Amadis, or in Esplandian, or Knight of the Sun, those dangers, and ill voyages, whereon those unfortunate Knights went for the Infanta Magalona, which should be (as it seemed) some well disposed Dame, they suppose, that the horse is ready saddled at their door, and that there is the dwarf, and that good old wench with Senor Agrajes, to go and direct them in the way, and to bring them through those thick forests and woods, to the end that they might not touch upon the enchanted Castle; whence they go to perform some other achievement. And a headless Lion, encountering with them, as they were on the way, using many courtesies and ceremonies unto them, with a great deal of willingness, brings them, where they are served, and royally entertained with diverse daintily dressed dishes of meat, which to their thinking, they now feed upon, and that they find themselves afterwards there sleeping in delicate soft beds of down, not knowing who brought them thither, nor whence they come, for all is enchantment. There they are honestly lodged, and well used, till Don Galaor comes thither, and kills the Giant, who makes me to shed tears, as oft as I hear tell of the cruelties that he used towards them. Whereas it had been much better, that by one of these Gentlewomen, he had been sent into Castille, together with his oppressed prisoners, where only for the very sight of them, they might have got so much money, that would have made up a sufficient Dowry for to marry them, without running so many adventures, and disaduentures. And so this enchantment is now wholly come to an end. But let them take heed, who read such, and the like books, lest that succeed unto them, which happened unto Don Quixote de la Mancha, who thinking himself an errant Knight, came to be an arrant Ass. But there is not wanting such another mad rogue as myself, who told me the other day, That if such books as these should, like a bundle of faggots, be pitched round about these fair curious creatures, and that fire should be put unto them, yet were it impossible to make them to burn, because their virtues would extinguish those flames. But I say nothing; and so I protest, because myself goes wand'ring through the world, I know not whither: and if I should say this of others, they would say the like of me.  
Other wenches there are, who upon the first sight of some spruce younker, 
A fourth.  with a starched beard, and his whiskers turned up, his body peradventure being as full of gums, as a Valençia velvet, and as many issues in his arms and legs, as Aranivez hath fountains, yet conceiting him to be another Adonis for his handsomeness and his neatness, are taken with the pretinesse of his person, and apparel, and are ready forsooth to run mad for love. This dandling, fiddling, tender, and wanton young fellow, made of purpose (as they think) for pleasure and delight, who makes a profession of neatness, and other apish toys, as conging and kissing his hand, a poppet that one may put in his pocket, is the only man with them: as if these curiosities, were not the Vespers of some bonfire, wherein they are to be burned. Let a woman be like a woman; and a man like a man. Though these vanities, and idle superf●…uities befi●… neither the one, nor the other, but serve only as Liveries, to show that they are the Devil's followers. But if you will allow foretops, curl of the hair, lies, paintings, neat dress, a soft skin, and a thousand other things to beautify both face and body, let-women have only this privilege, who have need thereof, and know best how to make use of these niceties. It shall suffice man that he express himself to be a man: it will well become him, to have a big voice, a hard and bushy hair, a thick skin, a manly face, a grave carriage, and a hand that is none of the tenderest. Yet these foolish wenches, think that such spruce princoxes as these, are made of such pure mettle, that they have not any natural passions, nor that they spit and cough as other men; and yet for all this their seeming fineness, they are subject to Sarsaparrilla, China earth, Guacum, Emplastrum Melilotum, Unguentum Apostolorum, decoctions, syrups, and electuaries, and many other miseries, and medicines; for whom these fond things are ready to run mad, and are so hot in their love, that if the bridle of shame did not somewhat restrain this their headstrong affection, they would be worse than any devil, when he is unchained and let loose. And if you shall ask, either all, or any one of them, what they see in this finical fellow, what reason they have to dote upon him, why conceit him to be such a precious piece? This accursed answer (as it is common with them) so it serves then in stead of all other: That it is their pleasure forsooth to have it so; it is their humour, and they will not be beaten out of it. And if you lay before them their unadvisedness in doing so, the inconveniences that are likely to follow thereupon, the ill counsel which they take, and the like, their answer is; I must suffer for it, and no body for me; it is I, and not you, that must feel the smart of it: and therefore you were as good hold your peace. If it succeed ill with me, I must be contented with my bad fortune, and con no body thank but myself, and therefore I pray let me alone, and spare your labour to speak thereof any more, for I am of age, and know well enough what I do. And yet this miserable maid, neither knows what she does, or says▪ but if they find themselves obliged by the sweetmeats, that are sent unto them, a gaudy girdle, a neat pair of Twizes, a silk pair of stockings, garters fringed with gold, perfumed gloves, or a love-letter brought her by her maid, or her answer thereunto, if she suffer him to pinch her as she passeth by, or reach forth her hand to him from under the door, if not perhaps her foot: when it comes to this, Lord have mercy upon her, there is no other medicine for this malady. For she is already touched 
h Tocada esta de la yerua. A fifth.  with the venom of that herb, 
Proverb.  whose infection (without divine help) is incurable.  
There are other women, that do likewise marry, only that they may live as merrily as the day is long, that they may go whither it pleaseth them, as well to see, as to be seen; that they may dress themselves to their own liking, wear this gown, or put on this mantle, either as it suits with their fancy, or the fashion: it seeming unto them, that because they saw such a one upon such a festival day, or all the week long, in her bravery and her gallantry, that as soon as she is married, her husband will maintain her in the same manner, and if not better, yet at least as other husbands keep their wives: and if such a man's wife troth up and down all the day long, he will not deny her leave to walk the streets at her pleasure.  
Hence ariseth the quarrel, this is it which maketh the fray; for if her hopes be crossed, and that things fall not out according to her expectation, or that her husband doth not like of it, and that he will not have his wife to go either clothed, or naked, for any but himself; telling her, that though such a one let his wife do what she list, and to go thus and thus, he does not well in it, giving the world occasion to scandal her good name, whereby he must needs be touched in his honour; and therefore he will not permit her so to do, for fear of incurring the like censure. Whereupon, and for no other cause in the world, because they will not give them leave to wear what clothes they list themselves, what shoes, and what stockings, nor to take their pleasure abroad, and to walk the streets, as some other women do, nor be left wholly to their own liberty, not one stone shall rest quiet upon another in all the whole house; she plotteth treasons wherewith to revenge herself upon her unfortunate husband, who being a wise and considerate man, knowing what a kind of woman she is, and how affected in her disposition, is afraid, that if he should grant her this licence, and give her wings, they would turn to her destruction, as they do to the 
i There are diverse sorts of Ants, whereof some are borne with wings, but to their own b●…rt. Covarr. verb. Ho●…ga.  Ante. So that he dares not give her leave to range abroad, nor to consent to other her extravagancies. This only coal is enough to kindle the fire, this single contradiction will serve the turn to make her fall a scratching of her face, and tearing her hair, calling herself the most wretched and unfortunate of all women, and wishes that as soon as she was borne, it had pleased God, that her mother had strangled her, buried her in a ditch, or thrown her into some deep well, rather than to live to be subject to so tyrannical a power; that she only of all other married women, is the most miserable; that such a woman is of this and that quality, and that she lives like a Queen with her husband, in comparison of her; that she is no whit inferior unto her, nor brought a lesser dowry with her, nor would she ever have married, if she had thought her husband would have used her no better. And breaking the bounds of womanhood, she dishonours him, calling him base fellow, dung hill-squire, neglectful villain, rogue, rascal, and what not; upbraiding him, that her father kept better men than he was; and that he was not worthy to make clean her old shoes. And if her husband chance to overhear her, she strains her voice a note higher, crying out, Wretched woman that I am, was I so daintily bred up, to be fed with this course fare? Are these the delights I am like to have? Did they leave me so well for this, that tho●… shouldst use me in this scurvy manner as thou dost? Must I be thy slave night and day, to look to thy house and children, and to be made a drudge to thy servants? See, and there be any grief like unto mine? God and the world knows what I am, of what house I come, and how well I am descended! Don Fulano, and Don Cutano, such a Bishop, such a Conde, and such a Duke, are of my alliance; leaving out neither beardling, nor shaveling, high, nor low, whereof she does not make a Litany, and verbal process.  
But poor unhappy man as he is, if it should fortune so to happen, (which God forbid should ever befall any honest man) that he have his aged mother at home with him in his house, his sisters that are virgins, or children by another wife; then will she keep a racket, and cry out; That it was for them, that her father got his wealth; that it is spent upon them; that they eat it out, whilst I (poor soul) who brought him all this, must be used like a Negra; Negra (said I) if it were Gods will, would I were no worse used than such a ones Negra, which passeth here daily by our door, as if she were some great Lady; to day in this change of clothes, to morrow in that. I only am that unlucky bird, that continue still in these old rags, ever since I was first married, and have not wherewithal to mend them, mewed up between these walls, accompanied with I know not how many spindle's, reels, distaffs, and hitchels for flax: What can her husband (poor man) say to all this? What answer can he make her? His best course will be to let her alone, otherwise he shall never bring his purpose to pass.  
There are another sort of women, that marry, to the end that by having 
The sixth.  a husband to cloak their faults, they may not be molested by the justice, nor reproached by their neighbours, or any other persons whatsoever. This is roguery, knavery, villainy, beastliness, and dishonesty in the highest degree. What should a man say more of them? They are a kind of kind wen●…es, but dishonest and shameless. They are like those Gardiner's, that clap up a scarecrow in a figtree, that the birds may not come and peck at the figs: which are only kept for those, whom it shall please the Gardener to give leave to pluck them; or such as shall pay him well for them: so as the birds do not peck them, it is all good and well.  
Is there none then, that may correct, reprove, or open his mouth against these kind of women? No surely. They have a scarecrow in the figtree; a husband of their own in the house. Touch them who dares. They can either give or sell, their honour, or their persons, as they will and list themselves, even in the sight of the whole world, and yet by-reason of this their scarecrow, the justice dare not offer to punish them. For it fareth with them, as it doth with Vine-yards, which have a guard upon them in their time of fruitage; but when the Vintage shall be gathered in, and the grapes carried away, and put into the winepress, they are no more looked unto, but are laid open, and made a common field, for their flocks and herds of cattle to feed on, treading and trampling them down with their feet.  
Sister, let me tell thee, that these are the steps that lead unto hell: God will take away this cloak from thee, this husband of thine for thy dissolute life and shameless lust, to the end, that this may be the w●…ip to lash thee, by bringing thy secret whorings in public view: and in that balance wherein thou didst put his honour, thine own ere long shall be weighed. But I were best take heed to whom I speak, lest I may chance to have my head broken for my labour. She feared not her husband, she was past all shame towards God and Man: and shall I think to reclaim her, or such as she is, by these my fooleries? (for I know they take them for no other,) I shall never be able to do it while I live, and therefore I will let them alone.  
Other some also marry, for that they see their wealth begins to waste, they 
The seventh.  know not how themselves: yet pretend, that the only cause why they marry, is, for that they are young, and are loath to have their honour liable to the lavish tongues of evil disposed people; as also, lest their persons might run the hazard of Rapes, and other the like violences. Well, of two evils the least: But because God hath not any part in all these marriages, and that it may be better said of them, that they be the Devil's contracts: and for that all things are to be reputed either good or ill, according to the end whereunto they are directed: and this being known, those actions are determined and defined that lead thereunto; bearing more love always to the end itself, then to those things which conduce and guide us unto it. So that marriage is not loved in such as these, for the love that they bear unto marriage, but only use it as a means, for the accomplishing of their desires. And these kind of women do not walk directly in the right way, but go somewhat about to serve their own turns, running a by-way to their own ruin. And therefore I hold it no good marriage, (nor indeed is it) when it hath any other end in it, save only to serve God in that holy and honourable estate.  
God doth permit (I confess) all these marriages, but I must tell you withal, that in most of them the devil hath a share, and that not the least. It is a good and holy Calling, but thou makest it a hellish Marriage. It was instituted for quietness and for comfort, but thou lov'st it not; thou neither hast it, nor art willing to have it: but thou dost rather entangle thy feet in it, that thou mayst the sooner trip, and fall with it to the ground. Let not a virgin, or a widow, make the butt that she shoots at her lawless liberty, nor the freeing of herself from her Fathers, or her Guardians subjection: let her not be led along with vain love, let her cast away from her all such filthiness as follows her sensual appetite. Which if they do not do, let them assure themselves, that it will go ill both with the one and the other: and if their husbands shall not prove so good and kind unto them, as they themselves did think, and wish they should, if they shall make slaves of them after they are ma●…yed unto them; if they shall me we them up like Hawks; if they shall lead an evil life with them; if they shall waste away their wealth, and yet leave a great charge of children upon them; if their purse shall be still empty; if troubles shall come upon them; if their husband shall be a Gamester, or a whoremaster; if they shall be thus abused by them, and shall haply dye under their hands: all this ariseth from those evil ends, which they proposed to themselves, either by seeking to advance themselves beyond their quality, or to flaunt it beyond their means: or those other forementioned reasons, which are the sole cause of their ruin. This Idol of Baal, whom they adored, in him did they put their trust: this was the God who (they thought) could succour, free and defend them; but in case at any time they should have true need indeed of his help, they shall find, that he ought not to be feared, nor that he is able to send down fire to consume their enemies, or comfort them; for as he hath it not, so can he not give it them. Thou adorest Idols, but thou shalt be delivered by none of them in the day of trouble: for in a word, they are Idols, the workmanship of our own hands, fashioned out of wantonness, and a longing to be doing of something, and adored only out of an idle humour, and out of a kind of pleasure and delight that we take in these toys. Fire shall come down from heaven, and consume the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, and the ashes, even to the waters themselves in the trenches, (like unto that of Elias) though they be filled afresh, barrel after barrel, yet shall all that moisture be licked up by the fire. Know ye then, that those are marriages which God ordaineth, and such as you enter into, only to show yourselves obedient to his will, and have consulted therewith aforehand; leaving it wholly to him, to work in the rest, as he shall think fittest for his service, without seeking after any ill and foul means: and then though ye should be dung-wet, and bucketted a hundred times with the waters of persecutions, of hunger, of cold, of imprisonment, and all other troubles and miseries, that may befall the life of man, it is no matter: For fire shall come down from heaven, that is to say, the love of God and his charity, which shall consume and dry up, these their many waters of tribulations. This quick fire makes speedy riddance of all our troubles, presenting them as a sacrifice before his divine Majesty, who will not only assist us with his grace in this world, but crown us with his glory in the world to come. And let this serve as an end to this my Sermon. Now let us return again to our Marriage, which (and it had pleased God) would it had never been.  
I had now served some six years in the Mariage-galley; in which short time (would it had been less) I endured (I thank my wife for it) a great deal of misery. Howbeit, for the four first years, our wedding loaves (I must confess) were fresh and new: for as yet, it was but honeymoon with us; all was of the finest flower and the purest wheat. But when we began to go down the hill, and were now fallen half in half from that height wherein we were before, and wanted money to maintain us at that scantling: when the cloth-of-gold kirtle, which was richly both bordered and embroidered, was to be sold, and turned into gold; and that not any the least thread of it, though no bigger than a Spiders, escaped the melting-pot, and yet past for a reasonable handsome kirtle still, as the world went with us: when all our old ends were spent and gone; when I could not inch it out any further; when I saw that the water was come up above my chin, and that I could not long hold out, but must needs sink, for that she would by no means consent, that I should sell any thing either of hers, or mine own, and that my credit to furnish my shop would not reach so far as one farthing-worth of Radishes, I found myself then in that straight, that advising with my father-in-law, I was willing to take somewhat a more rigerous course with her. God send us a good night of it. She thereupon began to set out so loud a throat, as if (like a pig) I had offered to stick her, or that the matter had been of more moment than indeed it was: insomuch that the neighbours came running in for to help her, who were so many that the house could not hold them. But when they saw the truth of the business, as God would have it, it was a thing of nothing; and when they perceived I had reason to do as I did, they rested quiet, and went their ways: yet for all this did not she leave off her lamentations, which might very well have served her turn for a hundred holy-weekes. I was enforced that I might not fall further foul with her, to let her alone, and to leave her to herself, that I might not be bound by hearing her, to answer her both with words and deeds. I took my cloak, threw it on my shoulder, and got me out adoors, leaving her all alone, and giving her thereby free liberty to say and do what she would, till she should grow weary, and could no more.  
This madded her more than all the rest, when she saw me set so light by that which she said, and that I seemed to make such little reckoning of it. And I may truly confess unto you, that in all that time that I lived with her, I cannot accuse myself, nor did she ever tax me of any the least injury that I had done her, but used her with all the kindness that a husband could use a wife. But when God shall bestow wealth upon us; or when he pleaseth, take it away, this altars the case; for man cannot then do withal, it lies not in his hands, neither is it in his power, to go increasing in riches, neither can he stop them in their course, (no more than a man can the tide) when they are ebbing from him. He cannot be termed an unthrift, or a bad husband, who useth his best endeavours, as others do, for to get wherewithal to live in some good and honest fashion, and to provide, as well as he can, for his wife, children, and family. But he is a bad husband, who spends his means upon women, throws it away at play, wastes it in eating and drinking, and prodigally consumes it in pride of apparel, and other vices of like excess.  
Let my young prodigals harken unto me, and do thou to understand this lesson, thou that art the only son and heir of some rich merchant: for it is unto thee that I speak, and thou knowest why and wherefore I speak it. And I was also about to say farther unto thee, that if thou do not take heed, thy rash and unadvised courses, (holpen on by other men's ill counsel) will carry thee hence to hell. Repent thee therefore betime, and have a care to live, that thou mayst not dye.  
So that I say, it is neither good, nor bad success, that should cause any separation betwixt Man and wife; nor ought married folks to fall out and disagree about the transitory things of this world. For a husband hath no more obligation, then to use all his industry and diligence, and to do the best he can: The success we must leave to God. Nor is he to be condemned for a bad husband, who keeps his wife's dowry well secured, and hath rather augmented, then diminished it, without having either sold, or paltred it away. She, without doubt, could not confess so much, or if she did confess it, she did not speak the truth; or if she did speak it, she did adulterate it in that manner, that they might absolve her upon it. Thus (poor soul) did she deceive herself, whilst she thought to cozen her Confessor. Likewise, there were not some wicked people wanting, of base birth, who, upon weak grounds, and a weaker understanding, to flatter and soothe up this her idle humour, did help to further her fooleries, favouring them all that they could, not so much as once giving care unto me, nor knowing the justness of my cause: And these were they that wrought my woe, and brought her to hell. For she died shortly after of a sharp disease, without showing any tokens of repentance, or 
Guzman's wife dies.  receiving the Sacrament.  
In two things may I style myself unfortunate: First, in this my marriage, though on my part I did use all possible means to observe the laws thereof. Secondly, that having done penance so long a time with her, and having lost all my wealth, I had not any acquittance of receipt under her hand, no not so much as a child by her, whereby I might have recovered her dowry. Howbeit, I have no great cause to complain much for this: for the unhappiness of her death, made my life happy. For there is no burden so heavy, as the insupportable weight of a froward wife. As a certain passenger plainly gave us to understand, 
A short tale of one that threw his wife overboard.  who being upon a voyage at Sea, and a great storm arising, the Master of the Ship gave order that they should presently lighten the Ship, and throw the heaviest commodities overboard for the saving of their lives. The passenger hearing him say so, took his wife up in his arms, and threw her into the sea. The justice going afterwards about to punish him for this his offence, he excused himself, saying; That the master of the ship, had commanded him so to do. And that amongst all the merchandise that he had aboard, there was not any that weighed so heavy as his wife, which was the cause that he threw her into the Sea: And it pleased God that they had fair weather after it.  
Now, turn your eyes upon my father-in-Law, who never had any difference with me, but did cherish and comfort me, as if I had been his own natural son; and taking always part with me against his daughter, and would ever chide and reprehend her; and when he saw his fatherly admonitions could not reclaim her, nor work any good upon her, he would never come within her doors. But howsoever he did hate her conditions; in conclusion, she was his daughter; and children are those tables that are sawen and hewn as it were out of the father's heart. And though they cause their sorrow, yet they love them dear. He mourned much for her, but we remained friends. We buried this unhappy woman (for that must be her name) and did that was sitting for her soul. And within a few days after, we parled of parting Company; for he would that I should return that unto him which he had given me with his daughter. I did not stand off, but gave him all that he had given me, and in better case than he consigned it unto me. He kindly thanked me; we levelled our accounts, remaining still as good friends as ever we were heretofore.   

CHAP. four  
Guzman de Alfarache, being now a Widower, resolves to go to Alcala de Henares, to study the Arts, and Divinity, that he might make himself fit to say Mass. And having fulfilled all his terms, and duly heard his Lectures, he leaves all and marries again.  
FOR to tumble down a stone from the top of a hill, every mean man's strength will serve, with the touch (as they say) of his little finger, he will make it to roll to the ground. But if the same stone were to be drawn out of some deep Well, many men would not be able to fetch it forth, and great diligence must be used for the getting of it up. For to make myself fall from that good estate, wherein I was, and to run headlong out of my wealth and credit, my wife's wastfulnesse was enough to turn me going; but to get myself up again, to the same height wherein I was before, I had need of the help of other the like Uncles and Kinsfolk; such another Genoa, and Milane; or that another Sayavedra should come and live with me; or that the same man should rise again; for I never lighted on the like servant, or companion for my turn; by whose helping hand I might have been raised up as high as ever I was, and restored to a better estate than before: But wanting these good helps, I lay buried and whelmed-over head and ears in a well of miseries.  
Goods and riches, the slower they are in coming, the quicker they are in 
Riches long a coming, but quick in going.  going. They are gathered with a great deal of leisure; but 〈◊〉 scattered away in haste. All at this present (whatsoever it be) in this world, it is all subject to mutation; it being fuller of alterations, than any thing else. Let not the rich man therefore rest too secure, nor yet the poor man despair. For the wheel is as slow in coming up, as in going down; and as quickly emptieth, as fills the Buckets that it bringeth up. The excessive expenses of my house had stripped me of all, both my jewels and my money; My wife might with a good conscience (if she had had it) considering what I suffered for her sake, and the troubles which by her exorbitancies, lighted upon me, have left me some small part of her portion, (which she might lawfully have done) wherewith at least I might (had I been so disposed) being a sole and retired man, have driven some small trade, attended my old occupation of usury, or employed myself in some one thing or other, to have picked out a poor living, and to begin the world anew, to see if I could recover this my weakness, whereinto by her means I was fallen, and now brought so low. But not only in this particular occasion, but in all the rest, that offered themselves unto me, with my friends and acquaintance, I might say that which Simonides said; He had two 
Simonides his two coffers.  coffers or chests in his house, and was wont to say, (using to open them at certain times) that when he opened that of cares and troubles, from which he thought, and hoped to reap some profit, it fell out contrary to his expectation, finding nothing but his labour for his pains; and of that it was brimful; but that wherein the Graces were kept, who should have recompensed him for his good services, he could get nothing thence, but had the ill luck to find it always empty.  
This Philosopher and myself, were equally unfortunate; and it seemeth, that the influence of one and the same Star, had lighted on us both. For albeit, I did overmore labour to help and benefit others, not considering the good or hurt that might come thereof, and without taking the counsel of those, who say; Has bien, 
a Has bien, y guarte. Guzman hurt by his kind heart.  y guarte: Do well for others, but yet look to thy 
Proverb.  self; so may I also say, That I never washed that head, that I had any other reward for my pains, but scabs and scurf. And albeit I had felt the smart of it, and paid sound for this my folly, yet I could not hold my hand, but wilfully persisted in mine own ways; for, being made drunk with the delight, that I took therein, I did not seek to repair the hurt it had done me. For as it is an easy matter to strip a 
b Facil despojar à vn ebrio.  drunken man out of his clothes; so is it hard to 
Proverb.  do the same upon him, that is sober. They may 
c Pueden roba●…, all que duerme, pero no à quien vela.  rifle him that sleeps; but not him, that is awake. I did never stand upon my guard; I did never think 
Proverb.  to see the day that I should have wanted; Whilst I had wherewithal, I always made this account; But when I saw to what poverty I was brought, I then knew the error I was in. And though I was a naughty man, yet I had a desire to be good; not out of any true love to goodness itself, but for the shunning of some greater evil, that otherwise might ensue. I had thrown aside my vices, forgetting them for a while, and had applied myself to labour and painstaking; I had trid●… all the means and ways that might be to work 
Guzman could never thrive by any good courses.  myself a fortune, and to come forward in the world; but not any one of them that thrived with me. I was an unfortunate man in all those better courses, that I ran. Only in doing ill was I lucky, I had a happy hand in filching and stealing, fortune only favouring me so far, as to make me unhappily-happy.  
This is a cunning trick, which sin still puts upon us, to further us with its counsel, and to help those that are her champions, to the end, that 
Sin, how she useth her followers.  with that heat and warmth they receive from sin, they may be the better encouraged and drawn on with the more mettle, to commit more heinous crimes; and when she sees that they have attained to the height of all villainy, and that they cannot well climb higher, she tumbles them down headlong with a witness. She makes them to mount by the ladder, but sends them down by the rope. Differing herein from God, who works after another manner. For he never sendeth us any trouble, which he doth not accompany with some blessing or other; from our greatest miseries, groweth our greater glory: leading us by a narrow path, to the broad and spacious way of bliss.  
It seemeth unto us, that when we are swallowed up as it were with desperation; 
God is always at hand to help us.  and that want and poverty lie heavy upon us, that he is forgetful and unmindful of us; when as indeed, he is but like unto that father, who for to teach his son to go, maketh as if he did loosen his hand from him, feigning to let him go alone by himself, and for a while to see how he will shift his feet, stands in some near distance from him, yet not so far off, but that he still keeps himself close by his side, and when walking softly, and with trembling steps towards him, he sees him ready to fall, he runs in unto him, and catching him in his arms, receives him into them, and embraces him, not suffering him to fall to the ground. But when the father hath no sooner left him to himself, but that either he makes too much haste, or will not go at all, nor so much as offer to move a foot, or letting go his hold, unfastning himself from his father's hands, he comes to catch a fall, the fault is not in the father, but in the sons either too much dulness, or too much haste.  
We are of a naughty and an evil nature, we are not willing to help our 
The naughty condition of man's nature.  selves a jot, we do not endeavour to do ourselves good, we will not use our best diligence, nor put to any helping hand of our own, but look (like little children) to have our meat put still in our mouths, (being now big lubbers) and that all should be put into our laps, without any pains, or care-taking of ours. But God is of that infinite goodness, that he never forgets us, nor forsakes us; He knows very well how to take away from the wicked in a moment, 
How God rewards the righteous.  many great Lordships and Farms, which they have been many years a purchasing; and to enrich job within a little while, with double so much wealth, and those other good blessings which before he had taken from him.  
I never had the grace to be so good; but I am sure I was as naked as job. For 
Guzman as poor as job.  I had nothing to lean myself against, save only the bare walls of my house. If, when I had plenty, I did pamper up myself; now I did desire, to have only wherewithal to hold life and soul together. I was ready to perish for want of food.  
I remember (when I was a youth) that I had known in Madrid a pretty 
A Tale of a little boy.  little boy, that was very well given, and for his years, of good understanding. This little Lad was bred up by a Gentlewoman, that was his mother, not that she had borne him, but for the love she bore him; she gave him good breeding both for his book, and otherwise; she clothed him well, and handsomely; and for his diet, if there were one bit better than other at the board, he was sure to have his part of it. This child was bred in Granada, where there are certain little small grapes, which are very dainty ones indeed, wonderful pleasant, and of an excellent relish; which in those parts they call j●…ies. Now there being none of this kind in Madrid, and for that this little boy would not eat any other save his own Country grapes, when he saw he had none of that sort given him, seeing your 
d Aluillas: A kind of great grey, or whitish grapes.  aluillas one day on the board, he asked for some of those little ones, as he was wont to do; To whom his mother said; Child; Here are no little ones to give thee. We have none but these: To whom the child answered; Then (good Mother) give me some of those. For I can eat also great ones for a need.  
I likewise could now feed upon gross fare, no meat came amiss, all was 
He that cannot live as he would, must be content to live as he may.  sweet and savoury unto me, nothing did hurt me, but hunger without meat; any thing, so as it were a belly full, it was all one to me. For the alterations of times, oblige all, and to all; and to content ourselves with those things, which are quite averse to our nature, and no way suiting with our disposition. I was driven to do that, which I never dreamt to have done, to the end, that I might always be able to say; That neither self-love made me doubt; nor fear, dread to adventure upon any means whatsoever, that might make for my profit. And questionless, if I had wholly bend myself to some one set course or other, and had settled myself close unto it, and constantly persevered therein, I should have done some good in it, and made it a means of no mean advancement unto me. But I was hot and choleric; I misspent my time; and my beginnings being bad, I failed in the goodness of the ends. I had often resolved to be good, but I was quickly weary of well-doing; I was that 
Proverb.  
e Pi●…dra movediza, 〈◊〉 la cubre moho.  rolling stone, that never gathers moss. And because I could not tame myself, time had now tamed me. I saw myself abandoned of all humane remedy, and had no hope of any other help, than that only of my house. I began then to consider, and say with myself; What have I now in the house, to staunch my hunger withal? Shall I bite upon a brick-bat? that is but tough feeding, and somewhat too hard a crust to gnaw upon. Shall I roast one of my rafters? That will be burnt away upon the spit: I found that a naked house, without something to maintain it, could not afford me any kind of remedy. I could think upon no better thing, then to betake myself to sacred Orders, and to become a Church man: Saying to myself; I have humane learning; I will make benefit of that, by hearing those Lectures read in Alcala de Henares. I 
Guxman resolves to go to the University.  have some little smackering also in the Liberal Arts, and Divinity, and when I have studied these awhile, I will take my Degree, then shall I be qualified for the Pulpit, and being able to say Mass, and to preach a Sermon, I shall be sure to have wherewithal to eat; and if all should fail, I would turn Friar at the last, whereby I should not only live upon certainties, but should also lead a very safe and secure life. For a Dominus vobiscum, did never yet dye of hunger. By this course, I shall not only repair my life, but I shall free it likewise from any danger whatsoever, which I might have incurred by my former misdemeanours. The time, for the payment of my debts, draws on apace, and my wealth goes away as fast; if by this means I did not provide for the storm, that was now a coming, I might afterwards see myself oppressed, and in great peril to be utterly lost.  
I knew that this came not from my heart, for I was not ignorant of mine own evil inclination; but he that hath no other means, and is put to his shifts, must do as he may. He that cannot make choice of his game, must fly at that which comes next in his way. Now that I am embarked, I must play the cunning Mariner, and seeing I cannot sail with a fore-wind, I must fetch boards, and come about with a side-wind. Any one will serve my turn, so it be not such a contrary wind, as shall chop me into the mouths of my hungry Creditors. This is the key that must make all sure, and keep them out from coming within me. The money that I shall make of this house, will serve well enough to maintain me as a scholar; which being well husbanded, though I should spend yearly a hundred Ducats, or a hundred and fifty, which will be the most, (and is a good liberal allowance) I shall have store of money for that time, that I shall need to continue there; so that I may live like a Duke, (if I list myself) and yet have wherewithal to buy me books, and to take some honourable Degree. I will make choice of a good Chamber-fellow, a 
What a student should do.  student of mine own profession, that we may follow our studies close together, hear the Lectures, compare our Notes, communicate our doubts, that so by joining our forces together, and aiding one another, we should be able to quit ourselves like brave fellows, when we came to break a lance in those lists. In this manner had I made up my reckon with myself; this was my consultation, and this was I fully resolved to put in execution. But how ill a consultation, and how worse a resolution, that I should determine to study Divinity, more for the nourishing of this my body, then for the feeding of others souls! How a God's name should it enter into my imagination to be a Masse-Officiall, and not a Mass-priest? Or that I should once think of becoming a Religious man, having such a scandalous spirit? Accursed I, and accursed 
Young Divines, what they should propose unto themselves.  he, who is so unhappy, as not primarily to propose unto himself the service and glory of God. And most unfortunate are they of all others, who treat of their own profit, of their preferments, of their honours, and of the maintaining of their back and belly, by this so worthy and divine a Calling; and that do not solely and wholly take the Ministry upon them, for no other end, but to be God's Messengers, and to do him service in his Church; and 
What their ends ought to be.  that shall not worthily perform that holy function; and that shall not desire learning for any other end, then to be a light unto himself, and unto others.  
Traitor as I was, why did I treat, like another judas, of the selling of my Master? And I speak it to all, as well as to myself; that he shall be taken for no other than a Traitor, that shall treat of being a Priest, or a Friar, having no other aim, but to feed his belly, cloth his back, and spend lavishly. And that father is a Traitor, whosoever he be, that 
Father's ought not to enforce their children to take Orders.  shall enforce his son, contrary to his own inclination and liking, to take the Ministry upon him, because his Grandfather, his Uncle, his kinsman, or his friend, hath left him such a Patronage, or such an Advouson, if his son shall in such a time take holy Orders. When a father casts about with himself to make his son a Friar, or one, or more of his daughter's Nuns, either because he hath not store of wealth to leave them, or that he may leave his other children the richer, or for any other worldly causes, which cannot be but vain and idle, let him weigh and consider well with himself what he doth in so doing: For it is a great wonder, if one of a hundred prove good (I say nothing of the Nuns) the most part of them, roaming and rambling through the world, like a company of vagabonds, and Apostatas, dishonouring their religion, disgracing their habit, putting their lives in peril, and sending their souls to Hell. It is God that must call us to this holy Calling: For it is he that anointed David, he that made choice of the Priests and the Prophets. The religious man must be religious, merely for Religion's sake; for the very love that he beareth unto it. This must be the principal end, this the substance, and all the rest but matter of dependence. For it 
Proverb.  is fit and just, that he that serves at the 
f Quien sirve all Altar, como del.  Altar, should live by the Altar: and it were inhumanity, when thy Ox hath ploughed thy ground, and laboured hard, to tie him to his stall, and give him no meat. Let every one open his eyes, and look well about him, before he resolve as I did. Let him weigh well with himself, what charge he takes upon him, and what a deal of danger he runs. Let him first ask of himself, what moves him to take that estate upon him? For by walking in the dark, the eye that sees not, must make the feet to stumble. The mark whereat a good Priest, and an honest religious soul should shoot at, must be brighter, purer, and clearer than the Sun. Let not Parents think, that for to fill their son's bellies, they must needs make them Churchmen: nor let them think, when they have a lame, weak, sickly, unprofitable, crumptbacked, or ill-featured son, to offer him upon God's Altar, or to make him a Priest. For God will have the best, and those that are without blemish for his sacrifice, being that he offered up the best that ever was for us, when he offered himself in his beloved Son. Therefore if thou shalt make a bad choice, thou wilt have the worst of it. For if thou shalt reserve the better for thyself, and give the worse unto God, he will take them both away from thee, so that both thy eyes shall be put out; he will bereave thee of the bad, because he was not good enough for him; and of the good, because thou thoughtst him too good. You must not 
Proverb.  change 
g No see han de ●…ocar los frenos.  bridles, lest you spoil the horses mouths: Every horse must have his own bit: What need a continent man to 
h No hare buen casado, un continente.  marry? Or a lascivious 
i Seria malo vn lacivo, por religioso.  wanton be made a Priest? The one is not so fit for a wife; And I am sure the other altogether unfit for the Church. There are many habitations 
Proverb.  in heaven, and every one hath his right place appointed for him. Let every man take that way, that may direct him to his salvation; and let him not go any other way, lest he may chance to lose himself; and 
Proverb.  thinking he treads in the right path, never sees his desire, nor that which he pretends. It were a pretty kind of oversight in me, if being to go from Madrid to Barajas, I should take over Segovia bridge, and pass on to Guadarrama. Or being to go for Valladolid, I should make for Siguença. Dost thou not see how thou art out of thy way? Dost thou not perceive thy folly? Let a Virgin, be a Virgin; A married man, a married man: Let the Continent abstain; The Religious, be religious: And let every one go on in the way that is set before him, without turning to the right hand, or to the left.  
I was resolved to be a Churchman, and for no other reason in the world, but only to repair a broken fortune, to fill my belly, and to be free from my Creditors; who, as soon as my ten years were out, were to come upon my back. With this, I finely stopped their mouths, shut the gap whereat they should enter, and left them to shake their ears. I sold my house for almost as much as it cost me: For albeit men do usually sell houses to great loss, yet mine yielded me little less than what it stood me in. For I did value it at somewhat the dearer rate, because it was bettered by the bordering buildings that were round about it, which time had wrought for me. When the Scrivener had drawn the writings, and that they were ready to be sealed, and I to receive my money, I said; 
An abuse about the rates of houses in Spain, set down here at large by Guzman.  That before I proceeded therein any farther, we would go to his house, that was the public Officer for the rating of men's goods, that we might have a Licence from him under his hand, requiring his confirmation of the Contract that was between us, and that we might conclude with him touching the sessing of the rent, as also the twentieth part that was to go out, and to be levied upon the sale of the house. When we came thither, and had cast up our reckonings, we found that the sessment came not to above six Royals, but the twentieth part to better than a thousand five hundred. Me thought this was somewhat cruel, and beyond all reason of policy, that I should give him such a great sum of money, which amounted to more than the Fee-simple of the ground, whereon I built it. I stood upon it, and was very loath to pay him so much, but because my standing out might have hindered the sale thereof, and so I might have let slip the occasion of doing myself good, I paid those duties; but with protestation, to require the same again by course of justice, as a thing which in all Law and Conscience, he could not duly challenge of me.  
The Master of the Office began to laugh at me, as if I had uttered some famous foolery. And it might very well be so; but as than it did not seem so unto me. I asked him, why he laughed: He told me, at my pretention. And that he would return me all my money again, on condition, that I would but give him half a Royal every day, till I had sentence on my side in this suit. I was about to have accepted of it; it seeming to my understanding, that an ill custom ought not so far to oversway reason, but that upon discovering the cunning and deceit used therein, it would easily be abrogated, and broken. Nor would this which I speak of, been my case alone, but all the whole Kingdom would have put in their plea into the Courts of justice; and as well for their private profit, as the public good, would have declared themselves in my favour, to the end that there might be some order taken for the redressing of so great a wrong. I was not so wide of the mark; nor did I go upon such weak grounds; but that with that which I then knew, I thought I should be able strongly to maintain my opinion, it seeming unto me scientiam certam, a settled knowledge, the certainty whereof could not be gainsaid.  
It might have so fallen out, that I might have defended it with a little cost, and peradventure I might have spent much in it, and so much, that not only this one, but all others of this kind, might have been utterly overthrown. As it did once happen with certain Sessings, that were afoot in those days, for that it was found out at last, that there was in the setting of those rates a certain kind of Usury, which our State doth not allow. The cause which moved me to this Defence was, because I saw it grew out of the discourse of natural Reason: considering with myself, that only from thence, all Laws had their beginning.  
But because this business crept in by degrees, and was not so currant and common in the world, as now it is, it was not much stood upon. But if we shall a little more curiously search into it, and the abuse thereof were well looked into, I doubt not but it would appear so harsh and sour to most men's tastes, that it would in some great part, if not wholly, be reform. For suppose a thing not to be worth any more than that which is given for it; and that this which is given, aught to be limited, finite, and certain. Now, if to me they should sell that plot of ground for a thousand Royals, with two Royals of perpetual rent upon it, and that there is not any man that will give more for it, nor indeed is worth any more; and that I have spent in building a house upon it, three thousand Ducats at least in good money: If it be a truth, and a Rule in Law, that no man ought to make himself rich with another man's wealth; why should this prowling Officer enrich himself out of my monies. For that this, which gives this value, and inhances the price of the ground, is mine own peculiar purse, and those monies I laid out myself, is a clear case, and cannot be denied. So that, if the same building, which I had reared, should be taken down and carried away, the ground itself would remain upon the very same terms, as it did before that I had bought it: So that this twentieth penny to be levied out of it, seemeth in my poor understanding, to be rather poena delicti, a punishment for the offence that I had committed in building me an house, then debitum iustum, a just and due debt; because it hath its being from a bad cause.  
And so true is this, which I have already told you; that in case even that very day, that I sold this house, I should have placed a pillar in it, or a Statue of stone, of some great value, and that buying the same together with my house, he should give me in the whole ten thousand Ducats, out of which sum, this officer will have a twentieth part; if I, to excuse this intolerable tax, may take away, and have taken away the Statue, and afterwards sell the house for only one thousand Ducats; I may well justify the doing of it, and they can demand no more of me, than what accrues unto them out of the price of the house. But that we may proceed a little farther; If I should afterwards carry away all the ironwork, the timber, and the glass; if I should demolish the walls, and should make it, of a house of ten thousand Ducats, scarce worth a hundred, I may likewise do it. And I may lawfully sell all that I thus took away, and separated from the house, without being charged with the twentieth part.  
How then can this hang together, that the parts, every one of them being taken severally by themselves, do owe no such tax, but in whole, and in gross, should be liable to this debt? If the master of this office should say unto me; you are to pay me the twentieth part of that price, whereat you first bought this plot of ground, for the which you paid a thousand Royals, and that the charge wherewith he charged me, should still run on in this set and certain kind of manner, there were some reason for it; as being grounded upon Dominium rectum, a true and lawful claim; for that it was sold with that condition, at such a set price, with such a reservation of a perpetual rent upon it, which I voluntarily and willingly did accept of. But how can he oblige me, or I consent to pay that which I myself do not know what it is, nor how much it may come to, & which peradventure may amount to such an excessive sum, that only with that twentieth part, I might buy a whole Town. And as those that I bestowed upon my house, were but three thousand Ducats, they might as well have been three hundred, or thirty thousand, and that house might hap to have been sold thirty time, in one year, which would have come to an excessive and exorbitant sessment. And such unreasonable rates as these are neither ratified in the Civil nor the Canon Law; nor hath any other ground or foundation for it, but that which ariseth from that which we call ius Gentium, or the Law of Nations. And that, not common, but privatum, not common, but private: for it is imposed, as it pleaseth the Imposer, nor doth it pass generally in all places, but in some particular parts; & within four leagues compass, in some towns they pay it, and in some, not. Especially in Sevill, and in almost all Andaluzia they know no such thing, nor so much as ever once heard of it. The perpetual Sessment, that was first settled, this, I say, is ever more truly paid, without any other taxes or tallages, though the said possession or house should be sold a hundred thousand times over.  
Now, for to make the carrying away of the twentieth part lawful, it must be by the virtue of a Common-Law, ratified and confirmed by the approbation and consent of the whole Kingdom: but this neither is so, nor ever was, but only approved by the ignorant; and such men's error, cannot make this good. There is no man but knows the nature and quality of your Sessings, as also how and which way they are to be raised, and with what reason and moderation, and how much is to be paid out of every hundred: And if these be liable to the Laws, and subject to their censure; why should not these perpetual sessings, as they call them, submit themselves in like manner to the Laws? What strange kind of taxes are these? What new kind of devices to wrong the subject? What reason is there, that they should be paid in this manner? What ground have they for it? They have but two prices to work upon: Either that, for which I bought it; or that for which I sold it. And why should they not rather pitch upon the price for which it was bought, then for which it was sold? Will they oblige me to pay these duties out of mine own particular monies, out of my proper expenses, out of mine own improving of my estate, and out of mine own proper industry?  
So that every way, this Case being nakedly laid open, and duly considered, there being no greater either Law or Reason on their side, than I can see as yet, it seemeth unjust, that they should take that my wealth from me, which I had bona fide spent upon it, or from my Wife and my Children, being that the one half thereof is ordinarily lost, that is laid out in building. Why then should it be permitted, that my principal, by the benefit of that piece of ground, should not only become less, than before, but that I must afterwards also pay, and lose that which they take from me, and carry away with this their twentieth part?  
And in case it must be paid, as paid it is, and that to a penny; let it be looked into, treated of, and determined: for it being defined and set down, we will rest satisfied, because it hath been consulted on, and that good heads had the handling of it, who would not willingly do any thing but what is just and honest; and therefore ought to like of it. But till that course be taken, the people take great scandal thereat; not a man but talks, and that liberally to of the great wrong and injury which they receive hereby. Some, holding it for a great piece of injustice; and others, not able to contain themselves, styling it with worse names.  
This past with me at that time with the Receiver of these Sessments. But h●…e and I were well met, we were even as wise one as another; I knew little, and he not overmuch. He would needs reply unto me, saying; That, was the condition of the Contract, and therefore was of force: For a man may oblige himself as far out of his own free will, as if he had been otherwise bound. This did not satisfy me, wherefore I answered that truly, That it were likewise a Condition of Contract, if I should lend an hundred Ducats, which were to be paid unto me within such a time, wherein if he failed, he was to pay me every day eight Royals, till he had paid me the Principal. But this is not lawful: So that, to justify a thing, it is not enough, that it is a Condition contracted, and agreed upon; but we must see whether it be allowable and lawful.  
Then he turned upon me again, and told me: This, Sir, is but a matter of haphazard: for, that a house be sold, or not be sold, is a mere venture: and if it be not sold, there is nothing due unto me. O what a good reason (quoth I) is this? As soon therefore as the house is sold, the twentieth part must be as a punishment of the Contract. And if it be, why do you bind my hands, and prohibit, that I may not sell it to such and such persons? You yourself, by your own confession, condemn the Contract. You open the door to all that may pay you, you sell the thing for that it is worth, and you will have the judians to give you the sw●…t of their brows, and take pains for you, and for no other end, but to better your own ground, and by securing you of a good round sum of money, they augment your wealth by diminishing their own: And when they must live thus by the loss, wilt thou have one out of twenty? But say such a thing should be done mala fide, yet you may pretend your right; but of that possession whereof you are now deprived, and have made me Lord thereof in your room, shall I out of those things, which I may, as it pleaseth me, either remove thence, of bring thither; will you have a pension out of that, which I have ordained for my pleasure? Of the Statuas, the Pyramids, the Fountains, of whose conduits and waters, I always am Lord and Master, and can alienate all this from thee, without letting thee have any part therein? wilt thou have it adjudged unto thee, because thou sayest it must follow with the whole, as a thing that is founded on thy ground?  
That totum of yours, I do not well understand (said he) what it is, neither can I believe that it can be brought within the compass of justice, and that you can carry it away by Law. And I am verily persuaded, that they who know and understand these things, and are able to determine of them, will not incline not to your part.  
I paid him that which he called his due, though sore against my will, & having made my protestation against it, I began to follow the sure: but because the Schools at Alcala were now shortly to be opened, and that the time d●…ew near for the Reading of their Lectures, I gave that over, that I might go about that which did more nearly concern me. And so committing the ca●…e of this and some other businesses to a Solicitor, a friend of mine, and to my father-in-law, I prepared for my journey. I got me my money together, and put in out to profit, which yielded me a moderate gain, purposing to spend upon myself so much as was needful & necessary for me. I made me a cloak, and a Sotana, provided myself of bedding & such other implements as were fitting for a student's chamber, a●…d so presently got me to Alcala de Henares, where I had so often wished to be.  
When I came thither, I was doubtful with myself, what I were best to do, not knowing as yet what to resolve upon, and whether it would be my better and more profitable course, to take a 
k The Spanish word is camarista, which is one that hath no house for himself, nor keeps company with any other, but hyres him a chamber in some house, where he lodgeth, and locks himself up, without conversing with the rest of that house.  chamber by myself, and to be all alone, or to be under 
l In your universities in Spain, they are called Pupils, that are under a Tutor, for their diet, and their government. And this house where they diet and lodge, they call Pupillage. Covarr. verb. Pupilo. A Student that puts himself in Commons with a Tutor and his scholar, what things he must be subject unto.  pupillage, and common with others. I had known already what it was to keep and govern a house, to be chief commander of it, to please mine own taste, and to enjoy mine own liberty. Yet notwithstanding, having respect to the lesser trouble of the two, I was content at last to take my fortune in the Common, amongst the rest of those Pupils that dieted altogether in one house, though it went somewhat against the hair with me, (I must confess) to submit myself to the poor and slender pittance of a Master over Pupils, who was to command in the house, to sit at the upper end of the table, to divide the Commons, and to give every man his portion upon his plate, with those his filthy, and perhaps mangy fingers, and those his foul and dirty nails, as crooked, and as long, as those of an Ostrich, tearing, rather than cutting the flesh, out into threads and strings, like the rending of the barbes, from the root of some plant, or young tree, distributing the porridge in Lettuce leaves, to make it stretch the farther, cutting the bread even, and giving every one his slice for the avoiding of waste, allowing us no new bread, but that which was stale and hard, that we might eat the less of it; our 
m Olla, is all that meat, whatsoever is sod together in a pot. Covarr. verb. Olla.  Olla, was nothing but the fat of bacon, whence only it might take its name, which made a very glorious broth to see to, and more clear than the light, at least so bright that a man might easily discern the least Louse that fell from our sleeves in the bottom of the porringer. Which if we did not swallow down in stead of a crumb, we would take forth with our fingers, and crack it between our nails. And of these kind of repasts, we had some four and fifty every month; for on the saturdays, we always made our meals of 
n The tripes or intrals of any beast.  Mondongoes. In fruit-time we had some four Cherries, three sour Plums, one or two little Apricocks, half a pound of Figs, and now and then a whole pound, according to the number of those that sat at table; but in that minced and curtail manner, that there was none of us so nimble fingered, that we could come to vie it the second time.  
Our Grapes were divided by little sprigs or bunches, such as they give little children to their Beaver, being no more in the whole, then would lie upon a poor little plate, and he that had most, had not above six Grapes that fell to his share.  
And of these, you must understand, that we had not all of all sorts every day, but in one only kind: for when we had Figs we had no Grapes, and when we had Cherries we had no Apricockes. Our Tutor would tell us, that too much fruit would breed tertian Agues, and therefore for our health's sake, he would not have us to eat any more, for fear we should be sick.  
In winter time, upon a little plate, thinly scattered, we should have a few Raisins laid out, as if they had meant to dry them in the Sun, so far off were they sundered the one from the other.  
For our last course, to close up our stomach, we had a thin slice of cheese, which seemed rather to be a Spiders-web then any thing else, or like those thin shave which your joiners planish away with their playners when they shave their wainscoat; alleging that those thicker slunchins would dull our wits. Besides, it was so full of eyes, and so transparent, that whosoever had seen it, would have judged it to have been the diaphragma, or that thin and slender call of some young little Kid, or some Lambkin's midriff; and for a need might have served in stead of spectacles, so easily could we see through them.  
Other whiles we had half a Pompion amongst us all, and a little thin cut of a small Melon, nothing so big as a man's head, but about the bigness of my fist, or a well grown Pear. And upon fish-days, we had a mess of lentil porridge, such as Aesop was fed withal, being no better than Duckes-meat; and if at any time we had pease-porrige, (which was very seldom, that we had such Gau-dies) I assure you, that the best and the cunningest Indian diver of them all, that fishes for Pearl, must have been forced to have dived four times at least, to the bottom of my porringer, before he should be able to bring up one of these pearls; which how scarce they were to be met withal, you may judge by this, that the pease had not given so much tincture to the porridge as would serve to give a colour to a wench's coyre. One day in the Lent, and no more, he did use to give us chesse-nuts for an Antipast to whet our stomaches, but no honey with them, for that they were sweet enough (he said) of themselves; and of those too, we had but a few, for he would tell us, we were as good eat so much wood, they were so hard of digestion.  
What shall I say unto you concerning our fish, which was poorer than the worst poor- John, of our withered and rott●…n ropes of, Onions, our pulpe-fish, our dried pilchards, that had hung I know not how long in the smoke, and a man had as good almost be hanged as to have eaten of them, being so dry, and so salt, as if they would have fretted out our very guts and bowels. We had every one a piece, and had the head also in to the bargain, if it were a fasting-day; but on other days, we had but half a one, and that was slit asunder head and all, and equally divided between two of us.  
What shall I tell you of that other fi●…h, which the Abbot would not meddle with, because it was so rammish, and stancke so vilely? yet they set it before us, and we must be contented with it. As also of our fried eggs, that we had now and then, like unto those in some base Inn, or poor victualling house, or little better, if not sometimes worse; for they would buy a great many of them together, that they might have them the better cheap, keeping them in a tub of ashes, or in some great heap of salt, that they might not grow stale and addle; and in this manner would they preserve them some six or seven months, whole and sound.  
What shall I say to our benediction and giving of thanks both before and 
A tale of a Student.  after our meals, and how necessarily we were tied to say a solemn grace? In so much, that a certain Student, w●…o cook his diet in such another kind or Ordinary, as I did, coming late to dinner, and being very hot with the haste that he had made before they should have dined, fell to unbuttoning of his doublet, and to unbrace himself for coolness, and when he was about to fall to his meat, he might hear them begin to give thanks: with that he struck his hand against the board, and with a loud voice said unto them; Silence (my masters) I know not what I should give thanks for, let them give thanks that have cause so to do, for I see none.  
At supper we had a salad, but a very poor one, and a great deal of chopped green stuff, (I know not what) amongst it; for they would not lose so much as the green leaves of a Radish roo●…e, or the blade of an Onion, whereof they would not make use, pouring a little unsavoury oil into it, and a little vinegar, whereof the one half was water, the Lettuce were only thinnely spread upon the top, with two or three sh●…es of Carrots, with a little Marjoram or Pennyry●…ll mixed with it; they were wont sometimes to intermix with it (but always all the Summer long) a hodge p●…dge of boiled mutton, that was nothing but mammocks.  
They would buy of the reffuse-bones, which the Cooks had left out, when they made their pies: they did cost but little, and took up much room. The show being greater than the price. And when we had not whereon to gnaw, we wanted not yet whereof to suck; and the hungry savour of our porridge, was a shooing-horn to d●…w 〈◊〉 the hardness four bread. We had also certain wild Olives allowed us, 〈◊〉 we should not ●…ate too many of them, for fear of setting our teeth on edge. O●…r wine was like that which they gave our Saviour upon the Cross, compound stuff, that tasted worse than sour beer.  
What shall I tell you of the care that our Tutor's wife had, to notify unto us the fasting days that were in every week, to the end, that we might not look for our Collation; nor call for our breakfast; and for the more surety, that she might not err, she would usually say there were two, when there was but one. What shall I tell you of the commutation of our suppers into dinners, which being put both together would not make up a reasonable nunchions. Which when they did give it us, was weighed out as just, and as even, as you would weigh out Saffron, allotting to every one his four ounces, and not a pennyweight over; as if this same Casuist, who did thus size us, did know our necessity, and how much would just serve our turn; or as if in regard of our long studies, and short dinners, (and those none of the best) we had no reason to find fault, seeing we were used all alike, and were now entered like fellow-labourers into one and the selfsame Vineyard, where every man must have one and the same allowance, not one having more than another. Or, as if the food that they gave us, were well fitted and proportioned for our sustenance; being that all was so limited, so scanted, so little, and so ill dressed, that your schoolboys, and poorer sort of scholars could not have their diet in a worse fashion, who have their stomaches pined to their backbone, who have more mind to a good meal, than a good lecture, and a greater will 
Marcus Autelius his saying.  to eat, then to study.  
This our Tutor that boarded us, would now and then tell us, that Marcus Aurelius was wont to say; That Sots and Fools only had poor studies of books, and tables plentifully furnished with meats; stinting their minds more than their bellies; but that a wise man (showing himself therein most wise) doth abhor full dishes, and will feed very sparingly, that he may the sooner and the better retire himself to his studies: That hogs, and horses, fatness did well become them; but that it was more commendable in men, to be lean and slender; for that your gross men are commonly grosse-witted; besides, they have a filthy wallowing gate; they are unfit to fight either for themselves, or their friends; they are a kind of unwieldy lump, an unprofitable mass of flesh and bone, being not able to use any manly exercise; whereas we see it is quite otherwise in those that are lean, and not laden with fat.  
I was willing to grant him this, to the end that he might not deny me a more manifest truth then the other; to wit; That a little meat, and that naught, quickly shortens the life of man. And if I may not live to thrive by my studies, it is but lost labour to drudge at my book. What Falcon I pray, was ever brought into the field to fly, which was not first fed before she came there? What Greyhound, or other dog, was ever put to course, or to hunt, before they had put victuals into his belly? They must both be kept reasonably high, and not come hunger-starved into the field; for than will neither the one maintain her flight, nor the other his course. They must be kept in good state; and so must we Students. There is a mean in all things; and that mean is the best. We will grant to these meat-moderators, these gut-mathematicians, That it is not fit to feed to fullness, nor to cram the belly as full as it will hold: so as they will yield again on the other side, that we are not to fast, till we grow so feeble therewith, that our legs are not able to support our bodies. And we had one Student there amongst us, who was well known to have his guts shrunk, and his excrements grown mouldy through the penuriousness of his diet. Yet notwithstanding I thought good to make choice, as of the lesser inconvenience, to enter into pension; it seeming unto me, that being (as I was) a man of some years, if I should take a chamber-fellow unto me, I must consort myself with one that was mine equal, and such another as I am; considering with myself, that as our countenances must be differing, so we might differ in our conditions; whereby it might so come to pass, that whereas I had a purpose to profit myself by learning, my studies might end in the harmful exercise of Vices, frequenting them more than the Schools. Of two evils, I chose the less; and so became a Pupil: Though I knew they would play upon me, and laugh and scoff at me, to see such a Giant as I was, in regard of the rest, with such a big muzzle, and such another great beard, as the good wife of Penaranda, to sit and converse with boys. Yet it was some comfort unto me, that there were likewise some borders amongst us, that were as big Lubbers (almost) as myself; so that (to say the truth) we, and those lesser fry, were mixed one amongst another, like pease and beans. And this benefit I had by boarding myself, that I was free from all manner of care and trouble, not being put to make mine own provision, nor to take thought either for my dinner or my supper, but remained free and at full liberty to follow my book, and such other things as I had most mind unto. For he that will attend his studies, must first study to remove all impediments, that may be a hindrance unto them; and he that will not do so, may go shoe goslins, for any great good he shall get thereby. I did seek all that I could to avoid your Innes-of Court wenches, those your ancient maids, or more elderly matrons, that make a living of sweeping chambers, mak●…ng of beds, emptying of pisspots, and other the like servile offices; for they are worse than fire, burning and consuming whatsoever is before them.  
What we say of these, may likewise be meant of our Mistresses, our Tutor's wives; we may put them all into a pack, and shuffle them together; Mistress and maid, maid and mistress, all is one; there is not a halfpenny odds between them: O, how my fingers ends do itch at them! How much better were it to box them about the ears, and to tug them by the hair of the head, then to do them any the least kindness, or courtesy in the world. I speak of these Governesses over your young Students, who will seem to take all the care upon them of guiding the house, and ordering all things in good fashion, as if nothing could be done well without them, when as there is not a more rascal, or ●…oguisher kind of people in the world. O how quick and nimble in filching and stealing! how dull and lazy to do any labour! O how clean would they make our chests; but how foul would they keep the house!  
Our Master had one Governess amongst the rest, who did commonly steal from us a third part of that which sheee should have given us: And when she could no▪ come to the fingering of our money, or to pilfering this or that other thing out of our coffers, or our trunks; she would rob us of our coals, our spices, our pease, and whatsoever else she could cleanly lay hands on, and these commodities she kept apart by themselves, and when they were grown to some pretty quantity, s●…ee would sell that unto us, which we had paid for already; feigning to have bought that, which we well knew she had stolen. If she were to wash our linen, she would cozen us of our soap, and what with the boisterous blows of her beetle, squashing and beating them upon some stone, or washing block, and rensing them in river water with I know not how many laver, she made our clothes reasonable white, though she took away two thirds of the life of the threads, which we were forced, through all handling, to turn into tinder, sooner, than had it been well used, we needed to have done. So that we were not only damnified by that which she purloined from us, but she marred and quite spoilt that which remained unto us. Now if you would fain know, how she spent that which she had thus got, harken unto me, and I shall tell you.  
This Governess, maid, servant, huswife, kitchen-drudge, or what other name such a vile creature can be capable of, when she did not sell that which she had stolen, she kept it for some poor Scholar, or Servitor, that was her sweetheart, on whom with all care and diligence she attended, furnishing him with all such things as he had need of; he could not lack that, which she would not presently help him to. For him would she steal our bread; for him would she skim our pot, reserving the very best, and as it were the very cream and flower of all that was therein for him. And if by chance he were in the house, she would be sure to give him of the fattest of the porridge, with sippets of bread throughly soaked in it, and flesh without bones, and his linen cleanly and handsomely washed with soap; and in a word, she maintained him well out of our means; for it was our, and not her purse, that paid for it.  
In conclusion, such kind of women, as these, are prejudicial, untamable, notable lurchers, arrant thieves; fare worse than that soldier's boy, 
Tricks of a knavish wag.  who played the wagg-pasty with his Master's pastry; and of eight Maravedis made twelve. For he opened the lid of the pastry, that it was not to be perceived, and supped up all the syrup and sweetness that was in it. Afterwards, his Master sending him for wine, he kept the eight Maravedis that were given him, to himself, and sold the jar for four, presently coming crying home unto him, and telling him, that the jar broke by the way, and all the wine was spilt.  
There never came a quarter of mutton into the house, but that by little and little, we lost a fifth part of it, and with it the kidney, saying; That for the devotion which she bore to the blessed Saint Zoilo, she would not boil that part; so that the kidneys never came to our share; they fell to her sweetheart's lot. But he was not so devoted unto her, as to offer her all that he had. There was not any thing that we had, whereof he had not a part, nay sometimes all: saying, I put it here, it stood there but now, the Cat hath eaten it, some body or other hath taken it away, and a thousand such excuses to serve her turn, stealing and filching from us at her pleasure. But will you peradventure seek to restrain these thieves, to limit them, to keep them within their bounds, or to hinder them in any thing contrary to their liking? It is impossible to do it. Speak but a word unto them, that doth not please them, there is not a house in all that street, not a shop, a tavern, nor an oven, where she will not make a large relation of your life, reckoning up all the miracles done by you, painting you out to be a wretched and unfortunate man, base-minded, a crib, a hunger-starved whoreson, a miserable wretch, of an ill condition, a grumble-seede, one that is still murmuring, that a Hen cannot lay an egg, but you must be prying into her nest, that you must have an eye to the skimming of the pot, that you will tie your bacon to a string, and put it into the kettle amongst other meat, a fourth part whereof shall serve you a whole week, taking it out one day, and putting it in another, making thy meal of one poor morsel, to make it hold out the longer. Will you turn her out of doors, and take another, you shall not find any that will come at you; and so you must be forced to serve yourself: for she that is gone from you, will tell her that is to come unto you, what a manner of man you are, what an ill life she led with you, and for what cause she quit herself of your service. In a word, he that will be served by them, must wink at all their faults, must make no replies, and besides, must let them do what they lift, let them have their own will, and yet that will scarce content them.  
I remember, that before I was married, I received a maid-servant into my house; and for that she was a beastly filthy slut, an idle drone, and altogether unfit for service, I turned her away after she had been some three days with me: Then I took another, who seemed to be in good health when she came unto me, but falling sick of her old disease, she only continued with me two days, and went back again to the Hospital, from whence she came. Presently after I had a third, a neat servant, but a great thief; for willing her to roast me a Conie, she cuts it in pieces, and stues it, and brought only to the table the head, the legs, and the wings, disposing of the rest as she thought good; for which roguery of hers, she stayed with me only that day, and the next morning I put her away.  
When my neighbours saw that I had three servants in six days, and that every one of them went away mumbling their matins, and murmuring at me, a bad report went of me, they laid a hundred faults to my charge, and did discredit my sernice in that shameful and vile manner, that for some twenty days after, I was fain to take my diet in a common victualling ●…ose. For no woman would be drawn to my house, by reason of the evil speech that was given of me, till such time, as a friend of mine, brought me one, that was worse than all the rest: for she would be in love with every body, and deny none that would ask her the question: Not any Stallion that came amiss to her: She was a wheel, that was easily to be turned with every hand. I would presently have put her away, but I durst not, for fear of being ill spoken of by my neighbours. And I tell you the truth: For this cause I held it the lesser inconvenience of the two, to leave my house, and to hire me another in some other street that was farther off, keeping her till then with me, before I would dismiss her. And so I did. If you were at home, she would be abroad; if you were abroad, she would be at home. If ●…ee have nothing to do, she will call to you for flax; and if you give it her, she will say you are miserable, and too great a husband. And neither of these, are without their mystery. But this I leave to your conjecture.  
And how can you imagine them to be otherwise then ill disposed in their persons, when as there is not any Governess, especially amongst these your Scholars, which is not branded with the like baseness? These kind of creatures, would not converse with all, nor yet filch from all, they would have little or nothing to do with your young idle fellows, that lie loitering in the marketplace, nor with your Lackayes, nor steal from some, though they found it lying before them upon the ground.  
I did not make any reckoning of it, nor did it trouble me so much, to see that they robbed me of my goods, or that they were never without one sweetheart or other, that still haunted their company, though I was not willing to give way to any such things in my house; as that they went about to rob me of my judgement and my understanding, and to deprive me of my senses; for with lies and tears they would seek to grace and countenance their villainies; so that though the truth thereof appeared unto me as clear as noon day, and that with these eyes I plainly perceived their rogueries, their knaveries, and all their wicked shifts and devices, yet they would force me whether I would or no, and contrary to mine own knowledge, to hold their conversation, and their carriage to be good and honest. A man must suffer much at their hands, even at all times, and in all ages. If they be old, they are stark naught; if young, far worse. And if one be so troublesome, what will two be? Happy is that man, that can excuse himself of them, and serve himself with less; for no man is worse served, than he that is most served.  
Notwithstanding, I protest, that I do not speak this of our Mrs Governess, or with purpose that she should hear me, for I know her to be a good woman, and of that kind nature, that she will forget and forgive all, if you will but begin to her in a cup of wine.  
I was now settled in my Pupillage, which I patiently suffered, that I might not suffer: What was amiss I sought to amend, by some provision of damties, which I kept still in store in my chamber, with which I passed the better, entertaining my stomach with them, when I saw it was needful. We thought it good discretion so to do, and our Master was well content with it, that we should roast a good lunch of pork, o●… boil us a friendly piece of bacon, and only out of the hope that he had, that we would invite him unto it. And I doubt not but all Tutors, by a general consent, would yield to accept of such conditions as these, four days in a week.  
Living in this manner, as I have told you, after I had studied the Arts, and the Metaphysics, and had duly observed those public Lectures that were required of me, they gave me the second place; when I was presented to take my Degree, the whole University crying out, that they had therein done me great wrong, in taking the first place from me, that they might confer it on a Gentleman's son of good rank and quality, but my junior.  
Having taken my Degree, I began now to fall to my Divinity, and to frequent those Lectures. I entered into it with a great deal of delight; for I took much pleasure in following my book, the bait that drew me on, being that most sweet entertainment of the Schools, because it was a kind of life, that was somewhat near akin to that, which I had always led. Where doth a man enjoy more liberty, then in the University? And who lives so 
The commendation of a scholar's life.  merry and so quiet a life, as your scholars? What entertainments of all sorts whatsoever, have not your Students amongst them? There is not the thing you can name, that they want. In a word, they have what they will; and do what they will. If they will be civil and retired, they may fit themselves with company that shall jump just with them: If loose and dissolute, they shall meet with as mad wags as themselves. There every bird shall find some of his own feather, such as shall equally suit with them in their disposition. The studious shall have those that will confer with them about their studies, that will keep their set hours, write our Lectures, compare their Notes, and punctually perform all those laudable exercises, that appertain to a good Student: And if they are disposed to walk abroad, they are like unto your Biskayners, those women that live in the mountainous Countries; who, where-soever they go, carry their distaff along with them, that a man may truly say of them, That they plough, spinning. Where-soever you light upon a Student, though he be out of his College, and walked abroad, with a purpose only to recreate himself by the River's side, in those sweet and pleasant fields, yet even then doth his wit and his memory also go a-walking, calling to mind what he hath read, arguing and reasoning upon this, or that other point, and conferring with himself on those things, which he hath studied, being never less alone, then when he is thus alone. For men that employ their time well, though alone, cannot be truly said to be alone. If once in a year, he will take his liberty, and ride into the Country, slacking for a while the string of his bow, fetching some vagari●…s abroad to make merry with his friends; what sports or what pastimes can be equalled with theirs? How by their Art will they make a Pastry to run of itself up and down the table? A Melon, to roll from one end of the board to the other? Your biscuits, and other dishes of sweetmeats to dance as they will have them? Who can so featly do these tricks as they? If you will give your Mistress music at her window, if you will bestow a posy on her, some fine emblem, or the like device, entertain her with pretty jests, and witty conceits, will you have them with a stentorious voice to deliver an Oration extempore, to maintain Paradoxes for pleasure and entertainment, to press an Argument to the proof, to invent a thousand merry toys, to pass away the time, to make something of nothing, only to show their wit, without any reason or ground that they have to maintain it: Who, where, or how, can th●…se things be done so handsomely in all the world, as in the Schools of Alcala? Where have you braver, or more flourishing wits in the Arts, in Physic, and D●…uinitie? Where have you Colleges better seen and practised in the three principal Languages? Whence do there daily proceed so many and so good Students, as from thence? Where is the like concourse to be found of so many well skilled in the Arts, who conversing together like friends and brothers, yet as if they were enemies, are always one against another in the exercise of learning? Where so many, so good, and such faithful friends to be had? Where such good fashion, such good fellowship, such good discipline, such good skill in Music, in Arms, in dancing, running, leaping, and throwing the bar, making their wits able, and their bodies agile? Where do concur so many good things together, besides the pureness of the air, the clearness of the sky, the temperateness of the heaven above, and the fertileness of the soil beneath, and above all, such a Cathedral Church, which may justly be called the Phoenix of the world, for the rare and singular workmanship in that most stately and unmatchable fabric? O my dear Mother Alcala, what shall I say of thee, that may sufficiently express thy worth? Or how, without wronging thee, shall I be silent in thy praise? I shall do thee wrong, and yet I cannot do it. Though it were better for me to hold my peace, for therein I should less offend. It was a rare thing, if not a wonder, to see any Scholar so debauxed, or so wholly given over to Vice (were it of gaming, or otherwise) that would omit the principal end for which he was sent thither, or neglect those good studies, whereunto he was to apply himself; for with us, no greater infamy could befall him, then to be accounted an idle loiterer, and mis-spender of his time. O the sweetness of a Scholar's life! You cannot imagine the many pleasures and delights that they take: O how merry do they make themselves upon St. Nicholas day, when they meet to make choice of some petty little Bishops amongst them! What sport do they make with your freshmen? how do they play the wags with them, putting them upon a wheel, and twirling them down into a hollow pit, bring them up again laden with snow? How put a little round rolling pin between the lid of their chests, and the lock, taking forth what they can finger, challenging it as a fee for their entrance? not a book of theirs that can escape their hands, no nor their very cloaks that are upon their shoulders. What a pleasure is it to see them labour and canvas for voices, to make up a mayor part at the election of their General? How close do those that are Countrymen cling and stick together, how do they stickle to make their own man, every one striving to prefer him that is of their own Shire or Province? How stiffly and how faithfully will they labour in the business? What a quarter and a racket do they keep, posting away messengers to this friend, and that friend; impawning all that they can rap or wring, till the next return of the Carrier; some of their books lie in lavender at the Cooks; some at this Inn, and some at that: Scotus his works are in pawn at the Bunnoleroes, or those that sell Frittars: Aristotle's, lie engaged in the Tavern, Bartolus, at the Bakers; Baldus, and all his fellow Civilians, some in one place, some in another: So one thing after another, all goes away; not sparing so much as the jack of male, that lies between our mattresses; the sword, that is under our bed; the potlid, that hangs in the kitchen; the covers of the powdering tubs, of the pans, and what not? In what Comfit-maker's shop, had not we a pawn and a score, when our credit began to fail?  
In this manner, and with these intertainments, did I merrily pass my time, till I was ready to profess Divinity. And when I was upon my last year, and ready to proceed Bachelor therein, my sins carried me one evening towards 
How Guzman was with-drawn from his studies.  Santa Maria del val; there are some kind of Pilgrimages, and other the like places for devotion, that a man were better break his leg, and abide at home, then to gad thither. For we often go thither, not with any intention to give an alms to the poor, or to pour forth our prayers unto God, and to praise and thank him for his benefits; but all clean contrary. There we commit a thousand offences against our Lord God, that it were better for us not only to break our leg, but our neck too, and to die in the state of grace. I know, and so dost thou too, why I speak it. This perambulation or station of mine, was the chief cause, and principal occasion of my utter undoing. Hence rose that terrible storm of my tempestuous life, the destruction of my wealth, and the final overthrow of my credit.  
I went out of my lodging, with a purpose only to visit this holy House: I did so: And at my entering into the Church, I espied a company of women, and amongst them some very beautiful and handsome; according to my wont custom, I made towards the Font, where the holy-water was: I dipped in my right hand, and that little I took out on the tops of my fingers, I sprinkled on my forchead: But having my eyes and my feet tending towards that fair herd which you heard me speak of. Not so much as once offering to look towards the Altar, nor once dreaming or thinking on the Sacrament, I kneeled with one knee on the ground, putting forth my other leg in that manner of posture, as your Fowlers use to do, when they lie close to make a shoot. And in stead of crossing and blessing myself, I made a hundred love-signes; and that I might the better drive these Coneys into the net, I went directly towards them; but before I could come at them, the game was risen; and going away from thence, they took down through a grove of Alder trees, towards the River side; and being come to a pretty little green meadow, they made the grass their cushions, and so sat them down. I followed them afar off, to see where they did quat, and perceiving that they had there taken up their rest, and meant to sit by it, for they had now taken out of their sleeves such junkets as they had brought along with them. And as they were thus preparing for their beaver, fair and softly, and in a sober and civil fashion, I drew nearer & nearer unto them: This good company consisted of a widow-woman, a good honest Hostess, and two of her daughters, that were more fair and beautiful than Castor and Pollux, besides some other their friends and acquaintance, that were not much inferior unto them, as being likewise endowed with those graceful gifts of nature; but she whose name was Grace, (for so was the elder daughter to my Hostess called) did so farre-exceed the rest, that they seemed rather her attendants, than her companions; they were Stars, but my Grace was the Sun.  
I was a man generally well known, I had resided in Alcala some seven years and better; was accounted one of the best Students amongst them, and held to be rich, which was no small addition to my credit; Attributes, that have the power to draw the hardest hearts to love. And these wenches were the buxomest and the wittiest in all the Town. Now they were beginning to fall to their merendar, or inter-mealary repast, when jesting with them, I began to insinuate myself, and to close with them; wherein I was not so crafty, but they were as cunning.  
But before I proceed any further, leaving this business on these terms you see, I must give you to understand, that what with the charge I was at, for books to furnish my Study, for the taking of my Degrees, and for apparel, ay, and my monies, had in a manner made an even reckoning. I had some left, but so little, that I was not able therewith to take my farther Degrees, and so enter into holy Orders. And because, before I was to proceed Bachelor of Divinity, I must necessarily take Orders, and this was impossible for me to do, because I wanted an Ecclesiastical Benefice, or some Chaplainship to qualify me; I had no other shift to help myself withal, but to have recourse unto my father-in-law, and to request his helping hand, with whom I did always communicate my necessities, whose friendship had never yet failed me. He did encourage me on in my good courses, by affording me at once his best both advice and help. For little doth he (that is 
o Quien puede, poco haz●…, quando a conseja, sino remedia.  able) who doth not as well afford us his hand, as his head; his help, as his 
Proverb.  counsel.  
He told me, that he would make a Donation unto me of the possessions of my wife's Dowry, saying; That he would bestow the same upon me for the maintaining of a Chaplain to say Mass for his soul: and that I on the other side, should make a Declaration of the truth, obliging myself by bond to return the same again, when and as oft, as he should require it at my hands. Even in these things also are these Counter-bonds stark nought, being that they take place against that which is established by the Holy Counsels, running on so insolently and so impudently, devoid of the fear of those grievous penalties and censures, which they incur by these their simoniacal Contracts. O good God, how is it possible to cut off the thread whereat this so great a mischief hangs, since I cannot reform this abuse in myself.  
I kindly accepted of his offer, and gave him many thanks, for that his good will was such unto me, that he would hand in hand walk with me to Hell, to keep me company.  
Shall I here say any thing unto you concerning this point? Methinks I hear you say, No: And that I should not meddle any more with matters of Reformation, unless they might do more good, and work more amendment then (for aught you see) they yet do. I can do no more than I can do. But say (Friend Guzman) I could, put that to thy account; for what is this to me? Nothing, I assure thee. Dost thou think, that thou art the only man, that is sensible of these things? that thou art the first that hath found fault with these Abuses; or that thou shalt be the last that shall complain of them? Do thou talk of that, which concerns thee a little more nearly, and makes more for thy present purpose: For (if you be remembered) you left those pretty wenches with the meat in their mouths (feasting, and making merry) and expecting the words that should come from yours. Bring us back again therefore to thy former discourse, and let these things alone, for there will a day come, when my Lady Simony shall have her doom.  
Thou sayest well, thy demand is reasonable, and I cannot deny it thee. And since that I am so willing to yield to thy request, do me likewise the favour to pardon this my fault, in falling afresh upon this subject.  
I stood upon those terms which you have already heard me tell you, I had passed over all my Lectures, and in a manner ended all my Exercises, a Chaplainship settled upon me, to qualify me for the taking of Orders, being within three months after to take my Degree. This was in February, I was to take my Orders the first Ember-week following, and my Degree about the beginning of May.  
This pretty Souls sayings and doings, name and actions, were all compact of Grace: and all the Graces being put together, (should they come upon comparison) must fall short of this Grace. For her wit, she was a Cabinet stored with all manner of pleasant and merry conceits: for her beauty, I know not how to express it better than by silencing it: she sang delicately, played daintily on the Viol, was wonderful discreet, had a nimble apprehension, but quicker eyes, wherewith (me-thought) she form a pretty kind of cheerful laughter upon him, towards whom she was pleased to turn them, so sparkling and clear were they, and so full both of life and love. Glancing with them to and fro, hers and mine met, it seeming on the sodai●…, that the visive beams in both, reconcentrating themselves in this encounter, by a reciprocal repercussion, struck home upon our souls. I knew it was affection in her, and she was fully persuaded of the like in me. She had robbed me of my soul; and so I told her then, speaking aloud unto her by my looks, but not a word of any such matter that came from my mouth. All that I then uttered, was only this; That they would be pleased so far forth to grace me, as to make me worthy their Company, by inviting me to be their Guest. They did so, every one of them did offer me a part of their junkets, and did in a manner enforce me to receive this courtesy from their hands.  
When I had given them thanks for this undeserued kindness they had shown me, commending much their fair carriage, I began (with a very good will, though seeming to be constrained by their command,) to spread my cloak upon the ground, and sitting down thereupon, I took my share amongst them, (which was none of the least) for they did all strive, who should make most of me, and bid me best welcome. I did gratefully acknowledge this their love, the wine went round, we took and gave healths one from another, as they came about to our turn, and made so good a beaver, that I might very well excuse my supper.  
When we had made an end of eating, a maid-servant, that waited upon them, took out a Viol, which she had brought along with her under her mantle; and Grace putting it with a very good grace into my hand, entreated me to show my skill thereupon, for that they were minded to dance: Which they did in that manner, with so much comeliness and art, and every way so excellently well, but Grace beyond them all, so gracefully, that I was exceedingly taken therewith, and more inflamed now, then before.  
When they were now grown weary, and were willing to rest themselves a while, delivering up the Viol into her hands, from whom I had received it, I besought her to grace that Instrument with a Song: which without any kind of nicety or coyness, when she had tuned it, and accorded the same with her voice, she performed both so sweetly, as well for the airing of her notes, as the vowelling of her words, now towering, then melting them at her pleasure: that for the time, she seemed to have arrested Time. For before ever we were aware, she had no sooner made an end, but Time went away; and hastening to recover that he had lost there, it was instantly night.  
And now was it high time for them to hie them home, homewards they go; and I in kindness would needs accompany them all the way, leading my Love by the hand. I was somewhat abashed at the first, not knowing how, or where, to begin to speak unto her; till she taking notice of this either my dastardliness or fear; I cannot say, whether carelessly, or of set-purpose, she tripped with her Chapin, but to save her from falling, I presently opened my arms, into which I lovingly received her; and as I was raising her up, my cheek happened (as if it had been done by chance) to lean a little upon hers: But having set her now upon her feet, (taking my subject from thence,) I suddenly flew back, beseeching her to excuse that excess, and that if either myself, or mine eyes had offended in pressing so near upon her, they were for their own unmannerliness, most willingly ready to receive such punishment as she should be pleased to enjoin them. She answered me in that manner, that I was forced to reply. And leading her (as before) by the hand, I did gently strain it with mine, wring it softly hard, that I might not hurt it. Whereat she smiling, said; For all your wring it so hard, you shall never squeeze any juice from thence.  
This put a little more mettle into me, and added farther boldness to my words: So that feigning that we stayed behind, because we were not able to go any faster, we went discoursing together of our Loves; I speak only of mine own; for she laughed at all that I said, making herself merry therewith, the better (as she would have it so to seem) to entertain and pass away the time.  
Her mother was a crafty sly subtle thing; she sought after sonnes-in-Law, and her daughters were desirous of husbands, nor did they mislike of the man: They gave me line enough, till they had led me along by the nose within their own doors: whither when we were come, they made me enter into their private chamber, which was very well furnished; they brought me a chair, and would needs have me sit down, that I might rest myself a while; and taking out of a Cupboard, near there at hand, a box of Conserves, they brought me with it a jar of water, which was no more than needed for to quench the fire of that poison which had so scorched my heart: but all would not do. It was now time for me to take my leave; I did so: desiring them to give me leave, that I might now and then receive the like favours again from them: They told me, that they should esteem it as a great courtesy, that I would be pleased to command this their house, and to make myself no stranger, and that in so doing, they should thereby know that my words did correspond with my works.  
Well, now have I left them, and am gone. Not so. I am neither gone, nor yet have I left them. For my heart stayed still there with my dear, that she might the better imprint in it the lively image of her matchless beauty. I had already bid them good night: But what a night (trow you) was this to me? How long were the hours? How short the sleeps? What a confusion of thoughts? What distractions of mind? What a general war? What a battle of cares? What a cruel tempest risen on the sudden, even in the very Port and Haven where I thought myself so surely anchored, the sky being so clear, the weather so fair, and the Sea so smooth, as heart could wish? This made me say to myself; How in so quiet a calm, could such a sudden storm come upon me, without perceiving its approach, or knowing how in the world to provide any remedy against it? I am utterly lost, and undone for ever; so uncertain is my hope of recovery. But now that morning was come, and that I had got me to the Schools, when I came thither, I knew not whether I were there or no; nor did I understand any one word that was read unto me all the while that the Lecture lasted. That done, I returned home, the cloth was laid, dinner brought in, I sat down, and offering to eat, my meat would not go down, my morsels remained as it were frozen within my mouth, and seemed so careless in all that I did, that it wrought amazement in my fellow-Students, and admiration in our Tutor, who thought with himself, that this was but an induction to some most grievous ensuing sickness. Nor was he therein deceived, for this was the disease that afterwards wrought my death. He asked me what I ailed? I knew not what answer to make him; only I told him, That my heart did fore-bode some great misfortune, that was coming towards me; for ever since yesterday, my thinks I feel it sunk down as it were into my body, and so shrunk together, that I find myself in a manner without a soul. All is Lead and lumpishness with me, that I know not what to think of it.  
He told me that I must not be a Mendoçino, nor be so superstitious as to admit such idle toys to my imagination, nor to let such abusing illusions to come within me, but to keep them off at armes-end; for this ill (said he) which you presage unto yourself, is nothing else but the abundance of some ill humour in the body, which will quickly be removed.  
Now, for that I already knew that my malady, Nullis erat medicabilis herbis, was not to be cured by any herbs, or other medicinable drugs, I dissembled the business, and that I might not manifest the misfortune that was likely to befall me, I said unto him; it may be so Sir, and I hope it shall be so, but in the mean while it pains me much.  
I rose from board, but not from dinner, for I had eaten nothing. And thence got me to my chamber, where I was so oppressed with sorrow, that suffering myself to fall down upon my bed, wrapping my mouth and eyes in my pillow, I poured forth tears in abundance, burying my sighs within the stuffing thereof. What with this and the desire that I had to see the Physician of my soul's health, I found myself somewhat eased: So putting on my cloak, and putting off my Lecture, I went home to her house. I may not omit only in two words to tell you, That there is not any exercise, but desires a continuance thereof, wherein to fail, though never so little, more than ordinary, is like to the breaking of a stitch in a man's stocking, which if it be not taken up in time, will ravel out all the rest.  
With this Lecture that I lost, I lost the benefit of all my former terms, and with them myself. For one after another I left off to continue them, not caring a rush for them. Love had now matriculated me in his School, Grace was my Rector, her grace my Tutor, and her will my exercise. I did now desire to hear no other Lectures, but those she read to me, nor any other directions, save what her eyes taught me. I began in joy, but ended in tears. I begged in jest of them a bit of their beaver, but I found in earnest, how (going cross my throat) I was choked with this contrary morsel. Besides, I was poisoned therewith, for it had quite taken my understanding from me, having now been bereft thereof for the space of three months and more, it being much pitied, but more condemned in me, that one that had been heretofore so studious, and so famous a Scholar for his time, as there were few better in the University; should now when he was come to the upshot, rove thus at random, losing both himself, and that good opinion which the world had of him.  
The Rector, when he had notice hereof, taking compassion of me, sought to apply some remedy to cure me of this my disease; but therein he rather did me hurt then good; for seeing myself so hardly set upon on all sides, but much more oppressed with mine own proper passion, not having any power of resistance, I burst forth into open rebellion, following my unruly appetite. The bones of reason, which like so many props, should have served to strengthen my weaker understanding, were all broken, and so strangely split and shivered in sunder, that there is no hope of ever setting them together again.  
Now our Loves went on amain; the favours afforded me, great; the hopes, not small; for it was left to my choice, whether I would have her to wife, or no. Let us now (my masters) change places; and let him that is the wisest amongst you take mine: let him be shut up, as I was, in Love's strongest prison; let him have such just cause as I had, to yield myself captive unto him; let him be croft and thwarted in his designs, all things conspiring together, to hinder the execution of his desires; then let him sit down and give me counsel. For that is the man that I would hearken unto. I knew no better means for my good, I left all other for this; for that I thought this would be my best remedy. Her mother offered me her house, and with it all that she had. She was a woman that had good credit in her kind of trading, and had good and quick returns, she gained wherewithal to maintain both the back and the belly, she made exceeding much of me, she was ready upon all occasions to serve me, I could not imagine more kindness than she was willing to do me; she kept me neat, sweet and handsome, and made that reckoning and respect of me, as Lord and Master of all. I thought this world would still have lasted; I sought to avoid the venom of evil tongues, but all in vain; for they had raised that already of me, which if it had been true, perhaps I might not have miscarried. Pardon me (Gentlemen) I am now a married man, and there is no more to be said of it. Is not this an ill account which I have given you of so many years' studies, so much good learning, and being upon the point of taking Orders, and to attain to some degree in Schools, that I might at least have been able to have read another day Lectures in the open Schools, as public Professor, and Doctor of the Chair: which might have been easy for me to have done, considering the good conceit they had of me. And being come now to the height of all my labours and painstaking, and when I was to have received the reward of them, and to take mine ease after all this toil, the stone rolled down, and I was forced like Sisyphus, to begin the world anew, and to fall afresh to my work. Do thou therefore consider that now, which I then so often thought upon.  
O how often doth God put a spoke in our wheel! How doth he cross our designs, making them to prove vain and fruitless! For the Altar being now made ready, the wood laid upon it, and upon it Isaac, the sword drawn out, the arm lifted up on high, and now letting it fall, to strike the stroke; even then, and not till then, was it hindered in its execution.  
O Guzman, why didst thou sit up so late a-nights to thy book? Why wast thou so diligent at thy studies? Why didst thou rise so early in the mornings? Why didst thou continue so long in the Schools? So many Acts, so many Degrees, so many pretensions, as thou hadst now on foot, what is become of them all? what good will they do thee?  
I have already told you, that the courses which I took in my childhood, came to end in the carrying of a basket; and now these of my more manly years, to make their mansion in an Inn, or common Victualling-house. And God grant my troubles may here have an end, and that my foot may be once fixed.   

CHAP. V.  
Guzman de Alfarache, leaves off his studies; he goes to live at Madrid; he carries his wife with him; from whence they were both banished.  
Having ●…apt from a Bachelor of Divinity, into the degree of a Master of profane Love; it is now to be supposed that I am become a Licentiat; and having already so far proceeded therein, I may with your good licence (as a true professor thereof) be permitted to speak so much as I know concerning the same. For, out of the good experience that I have had thereof, I dare boldly boast myself to be one of the best Proficients that was ever bred up in the School of Love.. If we should go about to define it (so many having said so much of it) it were but to repeat that Lesson, which hath already been said over a thousand times and more. Love then is, Totum in toto, all in all: And so contrary in its effects, that the more we say thereof, the less we shall be understood. Yet will we shoot one arrow amongst the rest that have endeavoured to hit this mark, and say something of that whereof so many have spoken.  
Love is the prison of Folly, borne of Idleness, bred up by Self-will and Money, and maintained with Filthiness, Uncleanness, and Dishonesty: It is the 
A discourse of Love..  excess of a brutish and beastly desire; most subtle and piercing, making its way through the eyes to the heart: It is that poisoned shaft, delivered from the hand of the Archer, which never stays till it come to its Centre. It is a guest, whom with a great deal of earnestness, we ourselves invite, but being once received into our house, is not so easily put out. It is a child that longs for every thing it sees, fantastical, and full of Apish tricks; it is an old doting fool, feeble and decrepit. It is a son that will not pardon his own father; and a father which will mis-use his own son. It is a God that hath no mercy, a secret enemy, a feigned friend, a blind but sure shooter, weak to undergo any pains, and yet as strong as Death. He observes no law, nor is he governed by reason; he is impatient, suspicious, jealous, revengeful, and a sweet tyrant. They paint him blind, because he keeps neither mean nor measure, distinction or election, order or counsel, constancy or modesty, but evermore errs. They give him wings, to show his lightness, in apprehending that, which is beloved by us, by which he bringeth us to an unfortunate end. So that only he that goes blindly to work, speeds best; and he that lightly woos, likely wins the wench. And though these, and such as these, be the effects of Love, yet for to bring them to pass, ere ever we can execute them, he will, that we shall want patience in our hopes, fear in the hazarding of our persons, wit in our words, modesty in our demands, judgement in making our choice, a bridle to restrain our inconsiderate actions, and consideration to free us from dangers.  
I fell in love at the first sight, I was taken with a look, the darts that flew from forth those her eyes, coming so thick, and with that force upon me, that I presently yielded thereupon, and became her Captive. Nor was transcursion of time, needful in this case, as some would necessarily infer, which affirmation of theirs, I hold to be an error. For, ever since the fall of our first parents, with that Leaven of theirs, was the whole lump and mass of mankind made sour, and corrupted with these their hereditary vices; the frame of this humane horologe, was so broken, and put out of order, that there was not one whole wheel left, to answer one another, nor any spring remaining, whereby to give it motion: But was so utterly spoiled, so rend and torn in pieces, and so wholly out of all frame and order, as if it had been a clean contrary thing, so differing was it now, from that first settled estate, wherein God had created it; the alteration of this its truer course, arising from man's disorderly disobedience. From hence, grew that blindness in his understanding, that forgetfulness in his memory, that defect in his will, that disorder in his appetite, that depravedness in his Actions, that deceit in his senses, that weakness in his strength, and those pains and torments, in his greatest delights, and pleasures. A cruel squadron of sore and fierce enemies; who, as soon as God hath infused our souls into our bodies, encompassing us on every side, violently set upon us; and so hotly assail us with the sweet enticements of sin, fair promises, and the false appearances of foul and filthy pleasures, that they overthrow all goodness in us, and so taint and corrupt our souls, that they put them quite out of that good course, for which they were created. So that it may be said of the soul, that it is composed of two contrary parts, the one rational and divine; and the other, of natural corruption. And forasmuch as the flesh, on that side whereto it inclines, is weak, frail, and so full of imperfection, (sin having so wholly infected it clean throughout) hence is it come to pass, that imperfection and disorder, is as it were natural unto us. And such and so great is this extreme, that man cannot account any conquest 
Fortior est qui se, qua●… qui fortissima vincit 〈◊〉.  greater than the subduing of his passions. Great is his courage, whosoever he be, that can resist them, and bring them under, in regard of that mortal war, and infernal enmity, which is, and still will be, between our Reason and our Appetite. For our Appetite persuadeth us unto that, which is most agreeable to our nature, to that which doth best like and please us, and to things of that quality, which we take pleasure to treat of, and have a desire to obtain them. Whereas on the contrary, Reason is like unto a Schoolmaster, who, that she may the better correct us, goes always with a rod of reprehension in her hand, condemning the ill which we commit. But we, like little children, play the Tr●…ants, and fly from this School, for fear of correction when we do amiss, and run a-mouching either to our Aunt's house, or our grandfathers, where we are made much of, and suffered to play the wantoness.  
Thus often (if not always) Reason remaineth (which ought not so to be) in 
Reason many times made subject to our sensual Appetite.  vassalage and slavery to our Appetite: Which when it hath once gotten so great a power and dominion over us, that of filthy Love, being so vehement, so violent, so powerful, so proper to this our being, so solely, and wholly ours, so suitable to our disposition, so glued and wedged to our nature, that to breathe, or live, is not more proper unto us; it must of necessity follow, that it is the hardest passion to repress, the terriblest enemy that we have to deal withal, and who with most strength and greatest force comes upon us, assaults us, and subdues us.  
And albeit, it be true, that Reason, holding (as she doth) her ancient place of pre-eminence, is wont sometimes to hinder, by her great wisdom and valour, the sudden working of a look (although it have the power of potent causes, to assist and further the same) that it may not easily, and as it were in a trice, rob us of our will, before we are aware, putting a man in an instant besides himself: yet (as already hath been said) for as much as the Appetite and the Will, are such sure marksmen, so free, so Lordlike, being never yet taught to obey, nor acknowledge any Superior, it is an easy thing for them, having Love on their side, to work whatsoever effects, and in such form and manner, as shall seem best to stand with their own liking.  
And because likewise there is not any thing, which doth not naturally appeterc bonum, desire that which is good; and that every action which we undergo, is in regard of that good, which represents itself unto us, or that happiness we find to be in it, we evermore desire to obtain the same, and join it unto us, side (as they say) to side: nay, we would (if it were possible) out of this our earnest desire, convert it, and incorporate it into our own substance.  
From hence then, this Conclusion may be gathered; That, for a man to 
Men may suddenly fall in love.  fall in love, there is no such force or necessity in it, that there should some distance of time interpose itself, that some discourse ensue thereupon, or that there be any election or deliberation had in the matter; but that upon the very first view, that only, sole, single, and primary sight, there may jointly concur in both, a correspondency, or consonancy, or (as we here in Spain commonly use to call it) una confrontation de sangre, a confronting, or conformity of the blood, wherein the stars by a particular influence, are wont to work, and do often move us thereunto.  
For, being that these beams do dart themselves by the eyes from the heart, they take infection from that which they find before them, especially if those they encounter withal, be like unto their own, and returning presently back again to the very selfsame place, from whence they were sent forth, as they draw these in with them to the heart, so do they portrait and engrave therein that fair object, which they saw and desired. And because it seemeth to the Appetite, to be a noble pledge, and well worthy the buying, at any rate or price whatsoever, esteeming it as a thing of infinite value; it presently enters into treaty, how he may come to enjoy the same, freely offering for it, and with a very good will, the greatest treasure and riches, that he hath, which is his Liberty, his heart being made prisoner by that Lord, whom himself admitted into his bosom.  
And in that very instant, that this bonum, or this thing, be it what it will be, comes to be beloved, and entertained by us, it is likewise to be considered, that man doth forthwith apply his understanding to esteem it as its summum bonum, or chiefest happiness: and so desiring to have it converted into himself, is himself converted into that which he so much desireth.  
Whence it cometh to pass, that those very selfsame effects, which may be wrought by length of time, getting ground upon us by continuation, consideration, and conversation: so also they may be occasioned in that instant, that this contentment, or pleasure, that we take in that good, which we in our imagination, figure and fashion to ourselves, is caused in us. For, in regard that we know not, or (to speak in a truer kind of language) will not hinder the course thereof, nor make any resistance against it; as also in respect of the corruption of our nature, debility of our reason, captivity of our liberty, and the weakness of our forces, dazzled, if not blinded, with this light, we want wings to fly from it; and like men that are hoodwinked, run headlong on to our own ruin: it seeming decent and fitting for us, to yield ourselves presently thereunto, as to a thing that is natural unto us.  
And this is so proper unto man, as light is to the Sun, cold to Snow, heat to Fire; as it is to heavy things to descend, and to those that are airy to ascend; without giving way to the understanding, or any power to freewill, who enjoying their privileges, might exercise their office; which are now in subjection to the Will, which remains now no more free, so that in stead of making resistance, we furnish the enemy with weapons against ourselves. Just so, doth it succeed with Reason and Understanding, in regard of the Will. For whereas in that first age, whilst we stood in the state of innocency, 
Of Reason, Understanding, and the Will.  they were absolute Lords, and like Kings, had all things under their subjection, and did conserve and keep in peace, all that fair and goodly fabric. After man's first sin, they remained slaves, and were made obedient to the Will, and forced to become the ministers and executioners of this her cruel Tyranny. So that now, our passions and affections having got the upperhand, and we being furthered and led along with a blind and depraved understanding, and hungering and thirsting after our own lustful appetites, we do inconsiderately debase our manly breasts, bowing them to the ground, to lap of those waters, which may please the palate of our lustful pleasures.  
We fly like hooded Falcons, one while towering to the uppermost Regions of the air; another while taking through the thickest woods, ignorant of any future danger, nor fearing the assured mischief that must light upon us. So that few do stand upon this distance of time, which is set before them, neither do they previse, or provide for after-claps; or if they would, Love will not suffer them so to do, so impatient is this littlegreat-God, of delays. And these the like effects did he work upon me.  
I was now turned married man the second time, and so well and happily to mine own liking and content, that I did verily persuade myself, Queen nunca por mi se començara el toçino del paray●…o, That I should never have 
Proverb.  fallen from so great a happiness, and that I should still have continued the happiest man in the world. I did not then consider with myself, nor did it once enter into my imagination, that this holy Ordinance, ordained by God in Paradise, I should solely and wholly have sought after it for the service and glory of God, the augmentation of his Church, and the continuation of mine own Species or kind, by a lawful means of succession. But these, were the least of my thought, I did merely intend mine own pleasure and delight. It was her beauty, and not my duty, that I minded. Much less, did I give place to the Understanding, that he might advise me to to that which he knew was best for me: nor indeed was I willing to hearken to his good counsel. I did shut mine eyes against those things, that should have done me good. I did put Reason away from me: I ill entreated Truth, for she told me, that marrying with a fair woman, many cares must necessarily offer themselves unto me, for fear she should become common.  
In conclusion, being ill advised, I pursued to please mine own humour, an ill-desired-good: I was blinded with those her natural gifts, and bewitched with her grace and beauty; things, as proper to my Spouse as they were without any artifice or daubing. He errs, who thinks that any thing can seem well that is an artificial composition, or a borrowed beauty: for this fair tincture that is given to the face, is but a false and counterfeit plaistring; and when that daubing is taken off, that foulness that was there before, returns afresh, and becomes more fowl. 
Proverb.   
I lived as merrily as the day was long: And he, 
a Los, que no gozan de suegro, no gazan de cosa buena.  that is not blest with a Mother-in-law, knows not what a blessing he wants. She used me as if I had been her own son, seeking by all means possible how she might please me, and give me content. There was not any Guest, that brought a good morsel of meat into the house, whereof I had not a part. And if it came not in that ways, why then her purse should pay for it, buying the best the market would afford.  
And as my wife brought me but a small dowry, so did she take unto herself 
Wives with great portions look for large maintenance.  the less liberty of speech, and had the less cause to put me to unnecessary and superfluous expense, and to demand a thousand idle toys of me which chargeable fooleries, your wives that bring great portions, too-too often put their husbands unto. She was young, and so young, that I easily wrought her to mine own will, and could bow and bend her which way I list myself. It was a pretty flexible fool, and was willing to be ruled by me.  
I had got me kinsfolk, who thought themselves much honoured and graced by my person, because they knew I was every way superior unto them. For he that shall link himself in alliance with those that are of greater rank and quality than himself, shall never lack Lords, to serve; judges, to fear, and Princes, to whom he must pay perpetual tribute. But my Mother-in-law 
Guzman his bappinesse.  was tributary to me, & my Sister-in-law was my slave, my Spouse did adore me, and all the house did serve me. Never at any time, as now, was I so free from taking thought for any thing, or from the troubles and cares of this world. For I thought upon nothing, but eating, drinking, and sleeping, and to pass away the time merrily, without being subject to another's controlment, nor liable to any payments, not so much as the value of one farthing, either for house-rent, or to the King. All did dance after my pipe, and did foot it as I would have them But this dance was the blinde-mans' Measure, and myself that led them, was the blindest amongst them.  
They say of Circe's, that enticing strumpet, that with her wicked sorceries, and devilish enchantments, she turned those men into beasts, with whom she conversed. Some she turned into Lions; others, into Wolves, Boars, Bears, Serpents, and other the like brutish shapes: but withal, left them their understanding quick and sowed; for in that particular she did not touch them. But this other whore (which is our blind Will) takes a clean contrary course; for, leaving us the forms of men, she bestows on us the understanding of beasts. And (as I have said heretofore) I never saw any alteration of fortune, which was not accompanied with some disasters, which were never presupposed, 
The mutable effects of fortune.  or once dreamt of before. And always at the first she makes show of a great deal of love and kindness, that to our greater grief she may tumble us down, from that height of happiness, wherein we now supposed we safely stood. For that which grieves, us most in these our worldly losses, is the recordation the possession of them. So that the more (in enjoying them) was our happiness, the more sensible (in losing them) is our misery. She turned her wheel, against me, my wife, and all our whole house.  
My father-in-law (whose soul is now in heaven) though he were an Innkeeper, yet I can assure you he was a good honest man: for they are not all of them 
Guzman's father-in-law, what manner of man he was.  knaves, they do not all pick their guests pockets, rob their nails, nor peruse their cloak-bags: and there are many of them that do not will their Ostlers to cozen the beasts of their provender; nor will themselves pinch their guests in their diet, and yet make them pay dear for it. For these are things which appertain more properly unto women, for that they are naturally more sparing and solicitous about these things, than men, and more curious in the ordering of their provision. And if there be any such false dealing amongst them, the fault was none of theirs, nor was any such thing to be presumed from my father- or mother-in-law; for they were good honest plain people, bred in the mountainous Country, as good Gentle-folk, and as well descended as Cid himself, save that through their misfortune and poverty, they were forced to follow that course of life: which shall plainly appear unto you by that which ensueth. For he being so honest a man as he was, such a friend to his friends, and naturally given to do other men good, he trusted one of his acquaintance with a certain rent of Tithes: some would say, that he spent all this Barley and Wheat in his house, but I do not believe it, being it fell out so ill with him; but did rather lose thereby, preferring his credit before his profit. For as it was afterwards told me, both by my mother-in-law, my wife, and my Sister-in-law, he was a man that loved to far well, and that his table was always well furnished, his vessels were filled with rich Wines, he made much of himself, and led as merry a life, as cup and can could make him: for there are a certain kind of men whose God is their belly.  
I knew a goodfellow in seville, that was just such another for all the world 
A tale of a poor fellow in seville, that loved to far well.  as he was, though he lived not in that credit as he did; who picked out a poor living by copying out of Sermons, every sheet that he wrote, yielding him half a Royal. This man's help myself had occasion once to use, for to copy out a certain Process for me at home in mine own house, and he having stayed somewhat long after dinner, before he returned again to his work, I demanded of him why he came no sooner: And he told me that he was fain to go a great ways off to fetch his dinner. But looking a little better upon him, and beholding him to be a man, made of Tailor's shreds, composed of a company of patches, and those all to be tattered and torn, not having a rag to his tail, a shoe to his foot, a cloak to his back, nor a hat to his head, but as poor as poor might be; I imagined with myself, that for his own ease he might or ought to have dined in some poor victualing-house, or the next Tavern, that was at hand. Whereupon, I said unto him, Are there no Cooks shops, or victualing-houses hereabouts, that you are forced to go so far? He told me; Sir, I am a poor man; I eat that I get, and I get what I can, that I may live the better. To that Bodegou, or victualing-house whither I go, they are acquainted with my diet; and know that I will have to my dinner a pound of the best mutton that is to be bought in the marker, and another of Kid: the sauce thereunto being Rocket and Sugar. And this is my fashion of feeding for the winter: for the summer a little thing contents me, a morsel of v●…ale, or a chicken, ot some such light meat.  
But to go on with my former discourse, This friend and acquaintance of my 
Guzman's miserable estate.  fathers-in-law, beginning to sink in his estate, and dying within a few days after, when the day of payment was come, they came upon my mother-in-law with an Execution, by virtue whereof they ceased on all that was in the house, and carried away with them whatsoever they found there, & I was afraid that they would have taken me and my wife along with them, as reckoning us a part of the household-goods. But though they did not, yet was it little better, and in a manner almost all one: for they took us by the shoulders, and thrust us out of doors, that we might not hinder them in the execution of their office, or keep a coil and stir with them about the carrying away of the goods.  
We saw ourselves, like those that are robbed by pirates, rifled of all that we had. We made shift to withdraw ourselves, as well as we could, to a neighbour's house; and because the creditors would make the best benefit that they could of the Inn, being willing that they should have it, that would pay most for it: there were not those wanting, that did seek to outbid one another; for 
Proverb.  there is no man so great an enemy unto thee, 
b Quien es de tu officio esse es tu enemigo.  as he that is of thine own trade. In these kind of men, there is no envy wanting; they do repine at another's prosperity, and seek to cut each others throat.  
This Inn, had been heretofore in very good credit; so that they went out-vying one another, (every one striving to have it) still out-bidding my mother-in-law, who was likewise a suitor unto them, that she might rend it of them, for that she, and her daughters, had been there bred up, and had continued therein so long, which made her the more desirous to hold it, and to offer more for it then it was worth. In conclusion, we had possession again of the house, in despite of all our enemies, but so enhanced in the rent (for the which me may thank others malice) and other by-payments, that were to go out of it, that we were scarce able to find ourselves bread and pilchards. For the Rent, like a Sponge, did suck up all our gains, and drunk up so much of our commodity, that we were ready (being thus over-rented) to perish for want of food.  
When I saw myself brought to so low ad ebb, I began to bethink myself, purposing to make use of my Philosophy, and apply myself to the studying of Physic, thinking to thrive by that course, and to pick a good living 
Guzman studies physic.  out of it; but it would not fadge with me, nor was it possiblefor me to do myself good that way; howbeit I had spent some time therein, to make trial what I could do: Some little profit I made of it, by reason of those good grounds which I had from the Metaphysics: For it is a usual saying with us, That, Ubi definit Philosophus, ibi incipit Mêdicus; & ubi Medicus, ibi Theologus: Where the Philosopher ends, there the Physician begins; and where the Physician, there the Divine. The main drift of my desire was, to see if I could make a shift to rub out, and by some means or other to sustain myself; but all was lost labour, howbeit that I might the better bring the world about, I permitted gaming, visits, conversations, and other impertinencies in my house, all which did me more harm than goods I 
c The Spanish phrase is, Hue deal peregil, y naçia me en la frente.  sought to shun Charybdis, and fell upon Scylla. And thinking to mend, I marred my fortune. So seeing mine own error, and perceiving at last, that none of all these would come to take fire, I began to consider with myself, that some dainty pleasing bait, that was sweet to swallow, would do the deed, and prove like unto your Comine-seeds, which being hung up in a little linen bag in some Dovehouse, 
The property of Comin-seed.  will only with the sent thereof, cause the Pigeons to flock unto it. But herein that happened unto me, which commonly befalleth your Comfit-maker's; when as the Flies with the very savour of his sweet meats, resort in swa●…mes to his shop, and there glut themselves with feeding upon these his pleasing confections.  
At the first I dissembled it a little, and would not seem to take notice of any such thing; for give you but never so little way to a woman, slacken but the 
Women apt to take too much liberty.  line that holds her in, and nothing in the world will lash out more, or assume more liberty to itself. Lay but the raynes on her neck, and seek not to hold her in, there is no ho with her; then shall you see what friskals she will fetch, leap, fling, and fly out, that no ground shall hold her. She will take hedge, or ditch, or any thing; nothing comes amiss, though it be to the breaking of her own, and her rider's neck.  
All things (as it is with old clothes) grew worse and worse with us, we 
Guzman driven to base courses, and upon what reason.  did eat, but (God he knows) how little it was, to so hard a scantling, and to such a poor allowance, were our hungry bellies limited. But there was no limitation put to our lawless liberties, they had now broken all bounds of modesty, they had lost their former sure footing, and had run themselves out of all order, without any fear or respect, either to God or man; so that my reputation lay now in the suds, our honour gone to ruin, our house, all on a flaming fire; and all this were we fain to suffer, for want of food. My mother-in-law 
Want, a great enemy to goodness.  was content to wink at it, my sister she solicited the business, my wife was a willing worm, and these three playing booty, they made their game the surer. My mouth was bunged up, I durst not speak, because it was I that had set open the door to three, and entertained all occasions; which if I had not done, we might all have starved.  
I passed a while with this, (still seeming ignorant of what was done) and taking no notice of the meal, that fell into the Mill-chest) but the tolle was so poor, that we could not live by that kind of grinding in Alcala. The Students were able to part but with a little; for their allowances were so small, that they could not maintain themselves and another; and there was not one amongst them all, that was capable to be made a Nominative to rule a Verb in order of Construction, and whereunto a man might have reference and recourse, when things are necessarily required to be joined together. But to far ill, to eat little, and that late, and to part with so much pleasure, for so little profit, that I should see myself (like a person that suffereth) put still in the Accusative Case, I could by no means endure it; nor was I willing to give entertainment in my house to these needy Scholars, who are more for the Vocative than 
Proverb.  the Dative. I had cast up my reckoning, and found, that the 
d No puede ser el co●…vo mas negro, que las alas.  Crow could not be blacker than his Wings: The harm is already done: The greatest Gudgeon is already swallowed down: Things cannot be well worse, than they are. My honour is already imp●…wned, the lesser evil is to sell it outright; the profit here is small, the infamy great; the Students crafty, and full of tricks; and victuals hard to come by: So that now it was not only fitting to change our bowls, but to do the same speedily. It goes ill with us one way, and worse another; and therefore we must apply ourselves to that, which may make most for our profit. And being that something must be lost by the bargain, let us not be like the botcher, that dwells at the corner of the street, who works all day for nothing, and then throws away his needle and thread in a rage. We must not hurl all away with a curse, but carry things in that manner, that we may have something remaining to help us at a pinch, at least as is necessary for our victum, and vestitum; our food, and apparel. Let us leave this valley of tears, before the long vacation come, when all is in a calm, and no wind stirring, to blow us any good. Let us leave this unhallowed people, from whom the greatest things of value, that can be gotten, is a sixpenny pie, or two rolls of manjar blanco, and when they do bestow these things, they go not out of the house, till they have eaten the better half thereof themselves. If their Mothers send them a barrel of Cordova Olives, they think they do us a great kindness, if they give us a little plate-full of them, and that they make our eyes water●…, if not clean put them out, with two smoky sausages of the mountain. No, no, there is no such matter, it cost us more than so. I will not sell my honour so cheap to Scholars, where there is nothing to be got, but halfpenny loafes, and hatbands.  
I knew well enough what had passed in Court, and how the world went there: There had I seen many men, who had no other trade to live by, 
Wenches have better trading in Court, then in the University.  nor any other income to maintain them, but a fair face, and that they would often take in stead of a Dowry; for with them it was held to be a mine of infinite treasure, labouring and 〈◊〉 to marry with women of such worth and credit, that were cunning in their Art, and knew what did belong to the business, and could tell without teaching, where their shoe did wring them. I was also acquainted with those their subtle and cunning tricks which they made use of, that they might not be obliged to that, which was unbeseeming them. For when the chamber was occupied, and that they had a friend with them, whom they were willing to entertain, they would either take down the Lettuce, or set a jar in the window, or a shoe, or some one thing or other, whereby their husbands might know that they were to pass by the door, and not to come in for fear of interrupting their sport. But at noon, the field was left open unto them, they might then freely enter into their own houses, where they should find the table well furnished, the meat good, and neatly dressed, and needed not to take any great care to keep the chair warm; for he that sent in this provision, would come thither in person to pass away the time, and to make merry awhile with them. And a-nights, when the Aue-Mary-bell had gone, and that devotion ended, they would return home again, they had their supper ready provided for them, than would they go to sleep alone by themselves, till that the hour was come, that their wives were to come to bed to them, it sometimes so falling out, that they would stay away till it were broad-day, for that they had occasion to go forth to visit some of their neighbours.  
In a word, these good men, and their wives, did live in that cunning fashion, that without suffering themselves to be understood, either by word, or by deed, they both knew very well how to play their parts, and what each of them had to do. And these kind of kind husbands, were well respected by their wives, and honoured with many Visits, in another gates fashion, than they were, who did walk without this disguise: Nay, their wives would be earnest to have them abroad with them, call and carrying them along with them to those feasts and banquets, whereunto they were invited, eating together at one board, and sleeping together in one bed.  
I knew one, who because a Gallant, that loved and maintained his wife, had settled his affection upon another woman, made no more ado, when he heard 
A base part of a Wittol.  of it, but goes presently in all haste to look him out: And when he had found where he was, he comes unto him, and asks him, what fault he could find in his wife, that he had forsaken her company: Which question he had no sooner put unto him, but he suddenly claps within him, and stabbed him twice in the body, but (as God would have it) he did not dye of those his wounds.  
Such as these go to a Bodegon for their dinner, for their wine to a Tavern, and to the market with a basket. But those that are of a more honourable and noble disposition, it will well agree with them, that they leave the house free for all comers, going themselves in the mean while to see a Comedy, or to get them abroad to play a bout or two at billiards, or some other the like pastimes, especially when their Commissions are out. I would not for any thing do that, which some do; who, when in the presence of their wives, others begin to commend these and these good parts, in such, or such a courted Dame, will never leave till they make their wives discover theirs there before them, preferring and praising them to be far better than any that they can show. But for a tacit permission, without any kind of submission, or yielding thereunto of mine, I did no way dislike it, but was well contented with it.  
I got my bag and baggage together, made up that little that I had into a fardel, all which a man might in a manner have shut up in a Snails shell; for one little old worm-eaten chest contained all the household stuff and wealth that I had; which being put into a Cart, my wife and I sitting thereupon, we marched on to Madrid, singing all the way as we went, 
e Tres anades madre, passan por aqui, Mal penan à mi. It is an ancient and common song in Spain: And when men travail merrily on the way, and laugh and be jovial, we usually say, That they go singing, Tres anades madre, Three ducks etc. Covarr. pag. 67.  Tres anades madre. Before we came thither, I began to cast up my reckonings with myself, and when I had well thought upon the business, and made up my account, I said to myself; I carry here along with me a morsel for a King, new fruit new, fresh ware, fresh, never seen, nor handled before: And therefore I will sell dear, and set what price on't I list myself; I will make mine own market: I shall not fail to meet with some one or other, who that he may supply my turn, will employ me abroad in some profitable business; and a secret molestation may well be dissembled, and fairly borne withal, especially when it shadows itself under the cloak of friendship: So that, what with sparing the expenses of my house, and what by getting other ways, I shall quickly grow rich; I shall once more come to be Master of a Family, and to have an honest house of mine own, wherein I may be able to lodge six or seven good guests, which will yield me such reasonable profit, that we shall not want wherewithal to live, but be supplied with all such things as are necessary for us. I am privy to mine own good parts, and know how fit I am for any employment of importance, wherewith they may trust me, and how surely they may rely upon me. In businesses abroad, I shall be careful and diligent; and at home in my house, patient and quiet. I will use all the means I can to gain myself credit, and to grow into a good opinion with the world: And when the measure of my desires shall be full, and come to its height, I will bend my courses to matters of greater moment, and leave off my trading; nor shall any other by-occasions necessarily withdraw me from these my designs.  
My wife entered into Madrid in the best clothes she had, having a gallant hat on her head, set forth with a fair plume of feathers of diverse colours, but the devil a lot of any thing else that we had, that was worth any thing, excepting only our Ghitterne, which we still carried with us wheresoever we went.  
We were no sooner come to Court, but presently in an instant, before we could set our feet on the ground, the fame of our welcome to Town had spread itself abroad, her beauty had mustered together a great number of Voluntaries, that offered their service unto her, and were willing to hazard their lives and fortunes fight under her colours; where she was, there was their rendezvous. The people flocked apace, where she had pitched her standard: But the only man that showed himself most forward at that time to accommodate us, being thus newly arrived, was a rich Fripper or Broker in the high street, who ask us, whence we came, and whither we would: when I had told him, that we were bound for this place, and had no farther to go, and that we had no known lodging, nor any acquaintance, whither to direct us; he forthwith made profession how willing he was to further us, and how desirous to express himself a friend unto us; and thereupon brought us to a woman's house, a friend of his, where we were kindly entertained, and with a great deal of respect, not for the Asses sake, but the Goddess, that was borne by the Ass.  
This good honest Broker, when he had seen us in our lodging, told us, that 
A Broker insinuates himself into Guzman's and his wife's acquaintance.  we could not choose but be weary with our last nights ill rest, and our hard journey: And for that we had not any, that could on the sudden make fitting provision of such things, as were needful for us, that we should not trouble our heads therewith, not take any farther care; for we should be supplied by a servant of his, whom he would send unto us. And so that day he sent us in good store of meat ready dreft by one that kept a Cook's shop, and had always good victuals in a readiness. And after that he had furnished us with all things fitting, towards the evening he himself came to visit us, and after that a few of compliments and ceremonies had passed too and fro between us, I asked him how much he had laid out for us: But he seemed to make light of it, and told me (as one that was willing not to hear on that care) that it was a trifle, a thing of nothing; telling me farther, how much he did desire to serve me, in things of a higher nature than these were, whensoever occasion should offer itself; and that this was not worthy the talking of, and therefore I should speak no more of it, seeming as it were to be ashamed of himself, that I should touch any more upon that string; yet notwithstanding I did press him to receive the cost he had been at; Telling him, That friendship is friendship, and money is money; and that I should not esteem the less of his love, if he would give me leave to discharge it, it being enough that I had put him to so much trouble. So at last (to satisfy my importunity) he told me, that the whole came to a matter of eight royals, which I presently paid him: But because I would not have him go out of the house, I began to use my old occupation, and putting on my cloak, I took my leave of him, t●…lling him, that I must needs go visit a certain friend touching some businesses, that did much concern me, and that therefore he would hold me excused, and pardon this my unmannerly proceeding. Having thus made my way, I left him in good conversation in mine Hostess' lodging, and got me abroad a walking until it was night.  
When I came home, I found the cloth laid, supper ready, and all things in that good order, and in that plentiful manner, as if I had left store of money in my wife's hands for to make this provision. I spoke not a word of it, nor did so much as ask whence she had it, or who had sent it in; as well because it was not fitting for me so to do, as also for that mine Hostess had told me, that we were that night to be her guests; as also this honest man the Broker. And from that suppers acquaintance, he and I remained ever after very great and kind friends. He did often come to visit us, and would carry us abroad to walk, and merrily to pass the time, inviting us sometimes to go down to sup by the river side, to dine at such and such quintas and gardens of pleasure: In the evening he would carry us to Comedies, and bestow a box upon us, and there make us a good 
f In Spain they use at their Comedies to entertain the women they bring thither with good wines cooled with snow, and sweetmeats.  Collation; wherewith we passed away the time the better.  
And albeit I must truly confess, that this honest man did all that he could, and that nothing was wanting unto us, yet notwithstanding, all that he did, seemed little or nothing unto me; for I must tell you, there were some, who to have had a taste of these savoury fruits, would have passed the bounds of honesty, and come to a higher price, and given much more money for a standing in such a Fair. For I knew very well, that women that are fair, and of a good presence, are like unto your meal, which is made of the best wheat; for from the flower, the purest and finest part thereof, that white and delicate bread is taken forth, whereon Kings and Princes, your Grandes, and Gentlemen of quality do feed; but that which is not of the choicest flower, but is browner, as it comes from the mill, is bread for the household, for Servingmen, travellers, and persons of mean account: and the bran, or refuse part thereof, serves for dogs-meat, or for the feeding of swine, making lap of it for the one, and wash for the other. But a woman of a beautiful and cheerful countenance, she no sooner comes into any place, though she be there unknown, but all are ready to grace her, the chiefest and principallest persons, offering, the first thing they do, to rise, and give her respect, the gallantest and richest amongst them, even to the very Lords, and greatest Peers of the Kingdom, vailing their bonnets, giving her a fair and civil salutation, desiring to enjoy such a dainty piece, whom Nature hath so adapted for noble conversation. But anon after (when these are glutted, and will no more) the common rout rushes in, first our neighbour's sons, than those that come to the Vintage with a tanka●…d of 
g New sweet wine.  arrope in their hands; a burden of wood upon th●… backs, to make a Christmas fire; or a basket of figs, according to the season of the year; these pay a pension all the year long for their pleasure, as duly as they do to their Physician or their Barber. But when these will nible no more, but refuse to bite at the bait, the dogs will begin to bark at her; not a knave shoemaker, nor poor old Cobbler, that will not set upon her, and rail at her; nor a fieve-maker, that will not make her dance to the sound of his bells.  
This kind hearted Broker had already bestowed on my wife a gown of black saten, trimmed with velvet, and a scarlet mantle, which was daintily set forth with a broad parchment lace of gold, which made a glorious show; we had a marvellous fair bed, a neat little table, and a handsome suit of chairs suitable thereunto; but how, or which way be came by them, I knew not. We had four good pieces of leather-hanging, richly gilded. In a word, the furniture of our house was now so well increased, that with the help of a little more householdstuff, we might very well set up for ourselves, and kill our flesh within our own doors, and make our market within our own liberties, which could not choose but be much more gainful unto us. On the other side our hostess did fleece us, it seeming unto her, that she had good reason to lick her fingers, and to dip her 
h Avia de metre sopa, y mojar ●…la miel.  sop in our honey, and only forsooth for her permission and 
Proverb.  connivance. But this was not a thing that I sought after, I did not so well like of it, nor did it make for my profit. And I did as little like of my Broker, for that a better and more beneficial Opponent sought to sit in that chair, which he now occupied. And although I knew well enough, that he proceeded in his dealing like an honest Broker, yet the case was now otherwise with me, it was quite altered, and come about another way. For I would part with that to day for three, for the which to morrow I would not take ten. Men must sell 
i Eltiempoes' elque lo vend.  according to the season, and make their market as the time serves. Nor is 
Proverb.  it material that such a one be an honest man in this or that particular, if I have more need of another for my purpose. For it little importeth, that a Tailor, who is to make me up a handsome suit of clothes should be a good Musician; nor that a Physician, who is to treat of my health, should be a famous player at Chess. Money, more and more money, was that which I looked after, and not honesty, and greatness of alliance, or good acquaintance.  
That which was not of much profit, was to me tedious, and distasteful. For I could not content myself with only necessary food and apparel; I must live like a King; I was to be courted with extraordinary kindnesses; and that they should buy at its weight in gold, the chair wherein I should give them leave to sit, the sweet conversation that they were to enjoy, the good looks that were cast upon them, our permitting them to come into our house; and above all, the liberty which I left unto them, by going forth myself, to give them the freer access. And this our honest Broker could not do. He was willing to lead us still along by that plain song, which he began withal, when he grew first acquainted with us: as if it had been an imposition of some perpetual tribute, which was so pass for ever, after one and the selfsame form.  
I had now found out one, who did far surpass him both in wealth, and in merit, and was much more for my advantage; only that difference did present itself to mine imagination, which there is between Having and Wishing; the present possession of a thing, or the desiring to possess it. As also that I knew not how to go to this amorous Gentleman, to give him to understand, 
Proverb.  that I should be very glad to embrace his friendship. And better is one 
k Tienes, a qui eres.  bird in the hand then two in the bush. I knew full well, and it plainly appears unto me, that he did much desire her, and had a month's mind to have a fling at her; but he was a stranger, and durst not adventure on the business. And for me to animate him on to this gear, had been to make him the less to 
Proverb.  esteem of it. And to leave the other, that was taken already in the net, had been folly, if not madness. For better is stale 
l Mejores' pan duro, que ninguno.  bread, than none at all. So that I durst neither take nor leave. Thus did things pass for a while, waiting still when that happy day would come.  
I did usually frequent your Ordinaries, and houses of gaming, one while playing myself, another while expecting something to be given me for good luck's sake, by those that had a good hand, ask now and then, something of those that have been my ancient friends and acquaintance. And what with that which they gave me, and that which myself had scraped together, I took occasion, when the Broker was with us at our house, to give it to my wife to spend as she saw cause, because he should not know the weakness of my estate; or to conceive, that I willingly gave way to his Visits out of mere want, and to maintain myself at his cost; but he was no sooner gone from thence, but I presently demanded the same money again of my wife, to go to play. And she did not only return me that, but much more. So that always before him, I bore myself like a Lord of mine own will, without leaving any gap open unto him, whereby he might have entrance to lose his respect towards me.  
This stranger on the other side, went for his part sucking-in the air, and (as it is in the Proverb) drinking 
m Beaver los vientoes. To drink in the wind, is to desire a thing with great earnestness. And because the wanting of it, till we come to attain unto it, causeth anguish and vexation to the heart, a man must of force fetch his breath thick, insomuch that he seemeth to sup in the air, and to drink down the wind. Covarr. verb. viento.  down the winds; using extraordinary diligences 
Proverb.  to gain our good will; and every one of us on all sides, working upon all advantages, to effect our several intents. But I, for my part, being very careful to avoid all disasters, especially that might fall out in mine own house; and for the better preventing of disorder, was much afraid, and wonderful loath, that two should tread together in one and the same path; as one that knew by experience, that one Kingdom would not admit of two 
n No sufre does cabeças un govierno.  Heads; nor two birds 
o No●…e a●…dan bien dos paxaros juntos en un agujero.  make their nest together in one hole. Nor durst my wife likewise consent thereunto, being unwilling to have more sacks brought to her mill, than she could well grind, it going much against her stomach to be put in the Grammar rules for a common of three. Till at last, we perceiving that this would make well for us, and that by how much the more the Broker did slacken his string, so much the more the stranger did strain to shoot home, drawing his bow for that purpose to a good round compass; for presents, jewels, moneys, and banquets, like so many arrows, came thick one upon another, in hope at last to hit the mark. I began now to look big upon the matter, and to talk in a higher strain, saying; That I was not minded to pay a rent any longer for my lodgings, being that I was able to keep house of myself. So the siege was raised, my old Hostess and I parted, and began to set up shop wholly for myself. 
Proverb.   
The stranger made me a thousand ducks and congees, saluting me, wheresoever he met me, with a great deal of respect; and I on the contrary looked on the Broker with a scornful and disdainful eye, showing as dogged a countenance towards him, as I could possibly put on. And by how much the more 
Proverb.  the one did seek to draw me after him; so much the more I strove to shake off the other.  
Till at last, growing weary of him, I came and told him, that if I had now taken a house of mine own, and had left that which he wished me unto, I had only done it, that I might be sole master of mine own house, that I might go and come at my pleasure, and be either clothed or naked, as I saw cause, unseen or over-looked by others. And that he should do me a favour to come now and then and see me, when I should be at best leisure to receive him, and not when I had earnest occasion of business. For neither I, nor my wife could always be in disposition to receive Visits.  
The poor man was so out of countenance with this answer, and took it so 
Guzman shakes off the Broker, to entertain a new Gallant.  ill at my hands, that never after would he offer to put his foore within my doors, except by the mediation of his friend, she that had been our Hostess, and that also very seldom, some once (as we say) in a thousand years, when he could do it handsomely, and my wife was best at leisure, neither myself, nor any body else, being then at home.  
Now, our stranger being so openhanded and liberal as he was, I was forced to carry myself fairly towards him, for he was well able to go through thick and thin, and if he held on that round pace that he began, there was great hope that he would quickly bring us out of the mire, and that we should happily arrive to our intended journey, and so it fell out. For my wife, showing him but a good look, when they two were alone, he did so highly esteem of every slight favour that she afforded him, that he would requite her kindnesses with their weight in gold.  
We entered into a great league of friendship; he invited me to his house, and when I had taken my leave of him, he would send home after me many, and those very good, dishes of meat, which served very well to furnish our own table, taking secret order with those his servants, that carried them thither, that they should not bring them back again, but leave them there, though they were all of silver.  
I was not offended at this, but it did somewhat trouble me, that he should do it so openly; for there is no man so blockish, that doth not perceive, when such things as these are done, it is not à humo de pajas, for Moonshine in 
Proverb.  the water, nor for a man's good looks.  
It is a brave thing, when a rich Gallant shall entertain my wife with great presents, and whatsoever else that may give her content, and that I may not know the end why he does it. But I was well enough contented therewithal, and all other Witals do the like. He says not true, who says it grieves him; for if it did grieve him; he would never give way unto it. If I were glad thereof, and gave my consent that my wife should kindly entertain him; if I suffered her to go abroad, and was well pleased when she returned, to see her come home laden with jewels, or with a new gown, or with some delicate sweetmeats, brought from the banquet that was made for her; & if my shame was so little, that I could fall heartily to them, and eat my part of them, and could dissemble all this, and much more; they likewise do the like; neither will they, nor can they clap the horns on my head, and think to go without them themselves. For I must assure them, that I understand them, and they understand me.  
But this was the mischief of it, that when they saw me walk the street so well clad, with a jewel in my hat, and a hatband suitable unto it, garuished with stones of good value; they would say as I passed by them; and that so loud, that I might very well hear it; What rich stones hath Guzman in his hat? O what a glorious show they make; but do you mark how that same Cornix doth outshine all the rest? And perhaps some of these which said this of me, did envy my good fortune; and others, like your Goats, did not see their own horns, though all the world besides did see them.  
This stranger of ours, did purchase our liberty, and he had such store of wealth, that now my house was for no body else, but him. But I had always a care to keep my decorum, entertaining his friendship, and maintaining mine own credit. The goods in my house, did like froth, gather daily more and more increase. I had both winter and summer hangings, pieces of Arras, wrought in Brussels, others of branched Damask interwoven with tinsel, beds of Damask, Canopies, & quilts of the same, Turkey carpets to tread upon, pillow-cushions for my wife's estrado, when she was pleased to sit in State; and many other movables, that might well beseem some great Lord. The table that I kept, and the house that I maintained, did not (I assure you) stand me in less than two thousand Crowns a year. And when I was disposed to make my good Master almost ready to run mad, (which I was sometimes wont to do, especially upon festival days) I would, as soon as we had dined, command the Gittern to be brought in, and laid upon the board, and then looking cheerfully upon my Wife, I would say unto her; I prithee (good Grace) if thou be'st a good Wench, do us the kindness to bestow a Song upon us, it is a Holiday to day, & therefore I prithee do not stick with us: but let us have it quickly, and with a goodwill. For otherwise, it was a wonder to see her take her Instrument in her hand. And still in my presence, when-soever I caused her to sing, (howbeit she knew, that I knew all, and that nothing was hidden from me) she would carry herself very soberly and decently, keeping always a settled and composed countenance, and was as careful (as if her life had laid upon it) that I might not perceive any thing to come from her, either in her looks, or her gesture, that might give me any the least cause to interpret it as an affront, or should otherwise force me to make demonstration, that I took any dislike at it. Each of us did understand ourselves; and both one another; though we would not seem to understand any thing, or make any show thereof to the world. With this Shooing-horn sometimes we drew on our good Master, which cost him many a fair Crown.  
I lived like a young Prince; Silver dishes did run upon wheels round about my house; one tumbled here, and another there. My Coffers could not contain those rich embroideries, and the rest of my wardrobe; some of sundry sorts of Cloth of Gold, and others of Silks, that were full of variety: my Cabinets were crammed full of jewels, precious Stones, and other curiosities; I never wanted money to game, I did triumph in plenty, and had good Cards in my hand to trump about; And for this cause▪ our friends did enjoy their liberty; for I perceiving, that it was not fit for me to enter into mine own house, (which I knew, as oft as I found the door shut) I passed by it, and went abroad a walking, until a more convenient time did offer itself; and seeing, when I returned home, that the door was open, it was a sign unto me that the coast was clear, and that they had past the time away in good conversation: whereupon I boldly went in, and sitting down, we all fell a talking of some one thing or other, as occasion offered.  
Thou seest all this my happiness; the fairness of the weather; the freshness of the wind; thou seest how favourable Fortune was unto me; how she smiled, and laughed upon me; how frank, and liberal she was towards me. But it succeeded in the end no less unhappily with me, than all things else which I underwent by evil means. Nor do I think, that any man can escape such flaws as these, whosoever he shall be, that shall sail in the same Ocean.  
Upon the fame of this so rare a piece of beauty, and the large licence that I 
The Courtier's court Guzman's wise.  had given her, some Princes, and Gentlemen belonging to the Court, assumed the more liberty to themselves, who had smelled out what a hungry and savoury sent this rasher on the coals had with it; they walk their Stations before my house, messages are sent to and fro; how-beit I am verily persuaded, that there was never any friendship strooken with them, nor any just cause given, whereat our young Master might deservedly take offence. Yet notwithstanding, seeing himself thus persecuted, and as it were outbraved by others, that were mightier and more powerful than himself, in wealth, lineage, and gallantry; he grew so exceeding jealous there-upon, that he was ready to run out of his wits, and had almost utterly lost his judgement. He went about at the first to strain himself to stand in competition against them all, exercising to this end, extraordinary liberality towards us; presenting us with gifts of great price, amounting to thousands of Ducats; but when he saw, that he could not contest with them, nor be able to resist so great force and power as theirs was, un-constrained, without cause, or any other just exception in the world, save only what his own jealousy did suggest to his weak consideration, he by little and little fell off, and began to retire himself, frighted thus from us only with a vain shadow.  
And sometimes I went considering with myself, what a strange kind of fool this was, that in his heatfull humour, set on fire with filthy Lust, he should so eagerly follow the chase, and hunt with that violence after such dishonesties as these, to his both so great cost, and vexation of mind. I laughed at him, as also at the poorness of his wit and judgement. For if one or the Malds of my house had come unto him, craving something of him that was of good worth, he would very willingly and freely bestow it upon them; but if by chance a poor man should come unto him, and beg but half a Royal of him for God's sake, he would not stick to deny it him. All of us received the reward we deserved, we were paid in our own coin: The Master whom we served, for to enrich us, had made himself poor; and we, through our ill government, could not continue rich; so that like ruinous buildings, we fell altogether to the ground. Our first man had left the field and was fled, and now those other Gallants come on amain: for the greater those persons are, who are privy to their greatness, and truly understand their own strength and worth; so much the more free they are in that which they pretend, and think that all other men must give way to them.  
I could have told them, or demanded of them; Sir, what service do I 
The condition of great men.  owe you? What have you thrown upon me, whereby to bind me unto you? What good did you ever do me? Why then should you expect, that I should wait upon you with my works, words, and thoughts? And which is worst of all; besides that they are bad Paymasters, they use us harshly, and bear themselves so proudly, as if we were in debt to them, and had an execution to enter by force upon my house, my wife, and all that I had. So lawless was this their liberty, so uncivil their proceeding, that within a few days after we fell into the hands of the justice.  
A grave Minister of the State came to know what had passed amongst us; 
A Fable of the Lyon.  You may haply have heard, how the Lion once upon a time, having admitted all the other beasts into his Company, and having in a general hunting killed a Hart, when they came to the distribution and sharing of it, he out of his absolute authority, and Princely prerogative, adjudged it wholly to himself.  
Just so did this Minister deal with me. And that he might have somewhat 
A judge falls in love with Guzman's Wife.  the better colour to do as he did, he began (Lion-like) with a little roaring, as if he had meant to quarrel with us. When I knew the course whereunto he tended, I presently had recourse unto him, complaining of such and such wrongs that were offered unto me, boasting myself to be a Gentleman, and one that was anciently descended of the Goths. And he (cunning as he was) who desired nothing more, then that I should thus come unto him, gave me kind entertainment, and causing me to sit down side by side with him, he began to ask of me what Countryman I was? I told him that I was of seville. O (said he) of seville? The best Country in all the world.  
Then began he to treat of that City, endearing it very much unto me, as if, by his commendation of it, I should have received a great deal of honour, or profit thereby. He demanded of me what my Parents were, and how they were called? And when I had named them unto him; he told me, that they had been his very good friends, and acquaintance, making a long discourse unto me, how when he was judge there, he had sentenced a certain suit in his favour. And he farther told me, that he did assure himself, that my Mother was still living, to whom he was well known in her younger days. In a word, he proceeded so far with me in these and like kind of compliments, that there was nothing wanting to make it full and complete, but his acknowledging himself to be my near Kinsman. Which I did still look for, especially when I saw him come to such particulars, and that he could tell me such and such tokens; which made me to say with myself, Omnia possunt potentes. What cannot your great men do? And now I am fall'n upon this Theme, I cannot but call to mind a certain judge, who having most faithfully used his judicature, and exercised his Office with a great 
Of a judge that was given to wanto●…nesse.  deal of integrity, his time of residency being expired, and that he was to render an account (as the custom is) of his Government, they could not charge him with anything, save only for his wenching, and for being a little too much subject to this humane frailty; for which, being sharply reprehended, he made answer; That when he was recommended by them to this Office, they had only given him in charge, that he should deal uprightly, and truly administer justice, which he most faithfully performed, and that no man could tax him of the contrary. Would ye therefore be pleased to peruse my Letters, and to look upon the Contents of my Commission, and if there (amongst other my instructions) you shall find that I was by virtue of them, enjoined Chastity, I shall most willingly submit myself to your censure, and endure such punishment as ye shall be pleased to inflict upon me. So that, because this clause was not expressly specified in his Commission, nor any particular mention made thereof; it seemeth unto these kind of men, that they do not fail in their duty, nor do any thing contrary to their Office, though they sweep (as they say) a whole street before them, and do otherwise undo a Country: As did a certain judge, who having destowred 
Of a judge that was a d●…owrer of Virgias.  about some thirty Maidens, and amongst those, the daughter of a poor woman, who when she saw what wrong he had done her, she went unto him, and besought him, that since he had done, or undone her daughter, that he would be pleased to return her home unto her, to the end that her dishonour might not be diuulged.  
Whereupon, he taking a Royal of 
a A piece of four shillings.  eight out of his Purse, said unto her: Good woman, I know nothing concerning your daughter; Lo, here be eight Royals for you, take you these, and get you some Masses to be said to S. Antonio of Milan, that he may do you the favour to recover her lost maidenhead. A very good amends. I do not know to whom this may seem to be well done. Do thou tell me if thou canst. I am almost at my wit's end, to think on the small punishment, that is inflicted upon such great faults.  
He commanded me to get me home to my house, proffering (out of his love unto me) to do me many favours, and that he should count himself very happy, if at any time it should lie in his power to do me a courtesy. For it was a sufficient motive unto him, to bind him unto me, that I was of seville, and the son of such parents; and that as well in this, as all other occasions, he would assist me all that he could, and afford me his best favour.  
With this fair answer I got me home. And within a few days after, when 
Of a judge that was in authority.  I and my wife were all alone, and thought ourselves secure, not thinking on any thing in the world, much less dreaming of his coming thither, behold, one night, when he walked the Round, he came to our door, and commanding one of his people to knock thereat, upon answer given, they asked for me; entreating a jar of water of me for his Worship. I well knew where his thirst lay; Whereupon I earnestly besought him, that he would do me the honour to come in, that he might sit, and take his drink, and not (like beggars) to take it without doors. He desired nothing more, this was that which he looked for. He comes in, and when he was sat, some Conserves were brought him to sweeten his mouth, which having tasted, he took the jar and drank. Then began he to enter into Discourse, telling us, that he had walked himself weary, and that he had seen that night many fair women, but none that came near my wife. He said farther, that he had heard her exceedingly commended for her good voice. I than willed her to take her Viol, and seeing his Worship was pleased to give her the hearing, that she should sing some one song or other, which she thought fit. Which she did without any coyness, or straining courtesy; it seeming unto us both, that it would much advantage us, to get so great a person to be our friend, who might be ready to stead us upon all occasions. The man was astonished, as well with the seeing, as the hearing of her; & when he was to take his leave, he willed me to come now and then to see him, and that I should make myself no stranger. With that, he went his way; and I and my wife began to talk as well of this, as other things that had past; and how far forth this his favour might be a means, to make us hereafter be more both respected and feared. I did visit him sometimes: and one day among the rest, careless of any thing that might befall me, he said unto me; How happens it (Guzman) whilst I am yet living, (for men are mortal, and I may die before I shall be able to do thee any good, if it be not done the sooner) that thou dost not make use of my favour, and sue unto me for some Commission, that may be both honourable and profitable unto thee? I told him, that I held myself much bound unto him, and that I should ever rest thankful for this expression of his love and favour towards me, but because I was loath to be troublesome unto him, as also for that I had not as yet served him in any thing, whereby to deserve any the least kindness from him, I had forborn to move him in things of this nature. He then selling me the friendship of my father and mother, (though this his kindness towards me, proceeded more from his love to my wife than myself) he offered me a Commission; telling me, that it would be very beneficial unto me. I thanked him for it, though 
Guzman employed in Commissions, for the Council, de la hazienda. The Council de la hazienda is of the same nature with the Barons of our King's Exchequer  this was the Induction to all my future misfortunes. For within two days after, he puts those papers into my hands, with order for the recovery of certain debts that were due to the Exchequer. The which he had procured (begging it for me) of an especial good friend of his, a great man in his place, and one that assisted in that Court; telling him that I was a friend of his, and a well-deserving Person, worthy to be employed in weighty matters, as should appear by that good satisfaction, which I should give both of my person and employment.  
When I had my Dispatch, I went from home, but (I must confess) sore against my will; I carried along with me eight hundred Maravedis, which I had by way of salary, or stipend; and for that I had ever been accustomed to far well, I knew not how to begin to frame myself to live with this poor allowance, much less to be able to put money in my Purse, or to hoard up to carry, or send home any thing to my house. But I saw now, that there was no other remedy, and must of force do as I did: and so for avoiding of farther mischief, I held my peace, and accepted of it. Partime, v perdime, My departure was my destruction. And when I went away, all went awry. For it seemed unto this kind Master of mine, that he might get himself slaves at other men's cost to do him service, and that with these eight hundred Maravedis, I might part shares with my wife, and maintain two houses, and that this would be a sufficient recompense for us; out of which respect, he was not only willing to be exempted from all other taxes and tributes belonging unto us; but also, that my wife should not look out to see the Sun, nor to receive any Visits, but only his. He sought to be so absolute a judge over any thing that was mine, and did so wring and pinch us, that I and my family were ready to starve for hunger, so that we were driven daily to go selling some of our household stuff, for to put bread in our mouths. 
Guzman's Wife likes not the judges miserable proceeding.   
My wife (who was now become his Hostess) could not live by these reckon, it was no good account for her, to endure so much subjection, and to be tied to so short provision. She first began to show some dislike of this his imperious, yet base dealing; and also many times of purpose refused to see him; hiding herself out of the way, using the help of a great friend of hers, who still made her excuse, when she was disposed that he should not come at her: For she thought she should have made herself by this market; but it proved otherwise.  
But when this new Master of mine perceived the evil correspondence which she held with him, thinking with himself, that my presence would quickly remedy all this, and bring the Bowl to it's old bias, he presently gave order, that there should be no more Prorogations granted unto me, and that I should be commanded to give an account of that which I had done. They put me to it, and I did it; more willingly resigning up my Office, than I took it upon me; for I found my state thereby much impawned, and my house much waited and consumed. He thought that my presence should have been the only remedy to give him content, and that he might the better enjoy all things to his own liking; but it fell out far otherwise, for by my presence, his expense increased, and we had the better means to make it rise. He was much troubled here-with, and knew not in the world how to mend himself; and conceiving with himself, that nothing would work us better to his will then rigour, then to put us to our shifts, that we might come Cap in hand, crouching unto him, and that with our arms across, and tears in our eyes, we should come and cry him mercy, and entreat his favour; he treated with his Colleagues and fellow Officers, to banish us the Court; and so accordingly it was notified unto us. I began to cast up my reckon, and made this account with myself; This Lord judge takes himself to be 
Guzman banished Madrid.  such a great man, that he thinks, he does me a great favour, in putting me to maintain his House, and procure his pleasure, selling him that for a song, which I have bought with so many affronts, and scraped together with such a deal of toil.  
Again, it will do me no good to stay here, if I may not have free leave to make the best of mine own Commodities. It will be the lesser evil (thought I with myself) to obey this banishment, and to be packing, then to tarry here to no purpose. For though it were hard measure that was offered unto us, and did pinch us somewhat; yet I knew it would wring him much more, nay gall him to the very heart. For, though we lost one of our own eyes, yet we had put out both his. For he missed of his mark; he had taken the wrong Sow by the ear, and all went kim-kam, clean contrary to his expectation. So this poor silly ass, thinking to bang us, had made a Cudgel for his own sides. Besides, at the end of that year, those ten years were to be expired, wherein I was to give my Creditors satisfaction.  
All these things had I laid together, and thoroughly weighed them with myself. I knew like wise that my Mother was alive; so on the sudden I hired a Coach for our own persons, and two Carts, for to carry our stuff, and our people, leaving the Court and the Courtiers to themselves, bidding them farewell for ever. Thinking with myself, that those that came from Peru, flush with their gold and silver, would prove a great deal more profitable for us. And so we went quietly along to seville.   

CHAP. VI  
Guzman de Alfarache and his Wife come to seville; He finds his Mother to be now somewhat ancient, and well strucken in years. His Wife gets her away to Italy with one of the Captains of the Galleys, leaving him alone to himself, and exceeding poor. Where-upon, he falls to his old trade of thieving.  
FOr that they, who escape out of some great danger, as oft as they think there-upon, it seemeth still unto them, that they are yet scarce free from the peril they were in; I did often call my life to remembrance, but never to amendment; and more particularly, that of my late lewd courses, the bad estate wherein I found myself, the little honour that I had to mine own credit, and the small, or no respect at all which I bore towards my God, all the while that my feet walked in these evil steps. I began to wonder at myself that I was 
Guzman discourseth of those Wittols, that willingly make their Wives turn Whores.  become such a beast, as amongst men, none could be greater. For none of all those, that are created on earth, would ever have permitted that which I did wink at; making myself a living, out of my wives lewd and filthy gain, putting her into the occasion of sinning, giving her tacit licence to trade, nay, expressly commanding her to turn Whore: And which is as bad, (if not worse than all the rest) that I should require from her, my food, my raiment, and the maintaining of my house, whilst I myself led an idle kind of life, holding (like the sluggard) my thumbs under my girdle. It is a fearful and terrible thing, that I should think myself to be an honest man, and to have honour in me, being so far from it, and so deprived of true good. That for to have crowns to play, I should crown myself with infamy; and that by not using these arms of mine, to labour for my living, I should blot those Arms of my Ancestors, and the nobleness of that house, whereof I was descended; Losing that, which is one of the hardest things to be gotten: to wit, a good name, and opinion in the world; That I should profane so holy a Mystery; That I should use it in that ill and vile manner, that being I should have made it to serve as a means of my salvation, I made it the highway to bring me to hell, and only for food and apparel, to nourish, and clothe this miserable carcase; That I should oppose myself to such peril, when as behind my back, and even face to face, they might have put an affront upon me, obliging me thereby rather to lose my life, then to endure such dishonour; That a man should not be able to do more than he can do; that he should know it, and dissemble it, either out of his too much love, or his too much grief, or that he may not proclaim himself a Cuckold to the world: I do not so much wonder at this. And this may not only not be a Vice, but a Virtue, and a goodness, in case he consent not thereunto, nor afford any favour or entrance into it. But to do as I did, who did not only take pleasure therein, but as if it had been necessary for me so to do, did (as they say) cast my Cloak over it; I do not well know, whether I were blind, or mad, or bewitched, that I did not consider better there-upon; or if I did, that I did not use some good remedy against it, but did further it all that I could. O fool, fool that I was and give me leave here to befool myself a thousand times, that I was so reckless as I was; that I did not so much as once dream on this mischief, and seek to prevent it; knowing, how incompatible companions these two are, honra, y muger guitarrera; Honesty, and a woman that plays and sings to her Instrument; and that I did not weigh, what hurt it had 
Music in a Woman, a bewitching thing.  done others, and that it might likewise ruin her and me, besides the dishonour that must thereby redound to us both. Men, for to oblige their Mistresses unto them, are wont to bestow music on them under their windows, and to sing unto them in the streets; but my Wife was such a one, that she made these men to fall in love with her, by going abroad to sing and play at their houses. And it is a clear case, that such graces are appetible in their own nature, and much desired.  
Now then, if men were invited, nay, incited thereunto, why should they not desire, and seek after my Wife? What wit or judgement hath that man in the world, who will make show of his treasure to thieves? What quiet sleeps can he take? with what ease can he rest, living (as he cannot choose) in in a continual fear of being robbed? How was it possible, that I should be such an Ass, that since I had given myself over to such shame and reproach, which haply might be occasioned by my too much weakness, I should (for mine own private interest) incur another far greater? To wit, to fall in company, into the commendation of my Wife, extolling to the skies, in the presence of those that pretended love unto her, those lovely qualities, and commendable parts that were in her, entreating also her, nay, sometimes commanding her, that she should discover and make show of some illicit part of her person, as her breast, arms, feet, and likewise (but I will here hold my peace for shame, for I blush to think on it) that they might see whether her flesh were fat, plump, and soft; white, brown, or ruddy? So that all grew worse and worse with me. For that which heretofore I did hate and abhor with my heart, and was as it were a death unto me to endure it, was now by use and custom become easy and familiar unto me, and I grew at last to take great delight in it. That I should consent, that she should receive Visits, and that I myself should bring Customers to my house, and leaving them with her, should get me out of doors, and walk abroad; and above all, that I should feign simplicity, and make myself ignorant, as if there were no such matter in the wind; and that I should think withal, that they did verily believe, that this was a good and lawful thing, being indeed a most depraved and wicked Act? That I should set her a-work to solicit Commissions, and to follow businesses at such great Ministers houses, as had a mind unto her, and desired nothing more, then that she should come unto them, and that I should make, as if I knew nothing, so slight reckoning of that infamy, which returning with them, or without them, she brought home with her? That they making her so many feasts and banquets, giving her so many jewels, so many Crowns, and so many costly Gowns, that they could think, that I should believe, that they bestowed all these things upon her for nifles in a bag, for mere smoke, for her fair looks, for very pure love, and honest affection, simply and plainly, without any doubling, or other by-pretension? What can I answer for myself? Or what can be expected from me, who not only gave way thereunto, but did also work for her to run that course? That fellow had good 
What a Prisoner said to Guzman.  reason to say that he did, who seeing how well I began to thrive in Madrid, himself being then in prison, he said in the presence of myself, and others. You see in what case I am here; it is now some three years since that I was apprehended for a Thief, a Forger, an Adulterer, a Slanderer, a Murderer, and a thousand other crimes, which they laid to my charge; all which being heaped upon me, I sink under the burden of them, and am ready to perish for want of food: whereas Senor Guzman, only by giving his Wife leave to take her liberty, lives free, takes his case, and grows rich.  
What think'st thou, could I think, when I heard this? O accursed riches, accursed ease, accursed freedom, and accursed also be that day, wherein I consented to any such thing, whether it were for love, necessity, favour of great Persons, or any other interest of mine own. But because the end may be known, which that man must come to, who gains by such ungodly means, and that ye may see the unfortunate success of such base delights and pleasures, I will recount my misfortunes unto you, and entertain you with the discourse of my sharp and bitter life, which was as ill bestowed on me, as it was ill employed by me.  
We travelled to seville (as they say) all passo deal buey: with the foot 
a Proverb. Al passo del buey.  of an 
Guzman leaves Madrid, and goes for seville.  Ox; That is, fair and softly, and with a great deal of leisure. For my Wife was afraid of the jogging of the Coach, lest it should make her little foysting-Dogge sick, which she carried along with her in her lap, in which was all her happiness, it was her only jewel, and her dearest delight. For one of these fizzling-curres is a main piece of a Lady's Essence, and the proper passion of a Gentlewoman. Nor can they any more go without them, than a Physician without his Gloves and his Ring, an Apothecary without a Chessboard, a Barber without a Gittern, a Miller without a Kit, or a Spanish Don, without a Toothpick.  
When we were come thither, out of the desire that we had to draw profit 
The foolish conceits, which vain men flatter themselves withal.  from those that returned from Peru, and to see our house to become such another, as the Contractation house for the Indies; whither & from whence, bars of gold and silver daily come, and go; and that it might be all built of Plate, and paved with Gold; me thought it seemed unto me, that I saw them already entering in at my doors, their backs bowing under them with the burden of their Bars, so massy is that kind of metal; and that their strong-sowne pockets were ready to rip and rend in sunder, with the weight of their double Pistolets, and Royals of eight, and all to offer them up to that their Idol, my Wife.  
With this golden conceit, and glorious imagination, I sought to revenge myself upon him that had banished us the Court; and said with myself; O thou Traitor; Thou thought'st to put a trick upon me; but if any be cozened, it is thyself; for all fell out to us for the best. The affront that thou offered'st me, hath lighted on thine own head. I am now coming into the Country of Cucana, or the Land of Xanxa, where is God's plenty of all things, and where the streets are strewed with Silver, where we shall be no sooner arrived, but they shall come forth to receive us with a rich Canopy of State, where we shall all live like Kings.  
With these, and the like thoughts, I called to remembrance, whatsoever had succeeded there unto me, in that my first departure from seville. S. Lazaro his Church would not out of my mind; I saw the Fountain where I drunk; the Stone, whereon I slept in the Church-Porch; the steps, by which I went up and down; I saw his Sacred Temple, and that holy Chapel, where I so devoutly said my prayers; And though I was far off from it, I saluted the Patron thereof in this manner:  
O glorious Saint; when I took my leave of thee, I went away with tears afoot, poor, all alone, and a child. Now I return to see thee rich, attended, merry, and a married man.  
Then was represented unto me from the very beginning all the discourse 
Touching these things, see the first Part, Chap. 3. &. 5.  of my life, ripping it up even to that very instant. I remembered myself of my Hostess that kept a victualling house by the Highway side, and of the Inn, where they gave me that good froyze of Eggs, and the Muleteer of Cantillana; but I had now left that on the right hand. I entered by that Royal Causey, we turned about by the Field, rounding the City, till we came to the Inn where our Carts were, where, of necessity my people were to stay; And for that all those were steps which I had often trodden, when I was a boy, & that place was well known unto me, because I was there bred & born, my blood began to rise as cheerfully, as if I had seen mine own Mother. We lodged there that night, but not very well. But in the morning I rose up with the Sun, for to seek out a new Lodging, and to free my goods from that Magazine, as also to make inquiry, if any one could tell me tidings of my Mother. But for all the good diligence therein used by me, all was to no end; I could hear no news of her, no, not a word. I thought I should have found all things as I left them; but they were so far from being in statu, quo prius, in the same case, wherein they were before, that there was not so much as a shadow, or any memorial thereof remaining. For some were altered, others absent, and most of them dead, insomuch that there was scarce one stone left upon another, whereby a man might be able to say; This is still the same seville. I forbore for the present to make any farther search after her, deferring it till some fitter season, in regard of the great haste that I had at that time to accommodate myself; and going about to see how I could fit myself, I might perceive a bill, newly set up over the door of a certain house, that was to be let in the 
a A Ward. A liberite. A street. A neighbourhood.  Barrios of St. Bartholomew, being within the precincts of the said Parish. I made means to see it, I viewed it, I liked it then well, I hired it for some months, and paying my Rent beforehand, I caused all my stuff to be carried thither.  
We rested ourselves some two days, eating and sleeping our fill, till my Grace began to think with herself, that it was not fit, that she should come to so noble a City as that was and so much famoused throughout the whole world, to move herself up within door, & not once offer to walk abroad. I got me to the 
b Gradas de Sevilla. A place like our Exchange in London, where men meet to walk, & talk.  Gradas; for her, I had hired a Squire, to usher her thorough the streets, for that these kind of people are best acquainted with them; and that she might go see those things, that she had most mind to, without roving up and down at random, or losing of herself, or without ask which was the way to such, or such a place. And so for fifteen days together, she never folded up her Mantle. For every morning and evening, she duly all that while walked abroad, and was never weary, nor fully satisfied with seeing such Greatnesses, as did offer themselves every where to her view. For albeit, although that she was in Madrid, she liked it very well, and so well, that she then thought, that that Court had the advantage of all other habitations of the world for its State and Majesty, the greatness and great number of their Dukes, Marquesses, Condes, and other Titulados, for its concourse of Ambassadors from all foreign parts for the good Trading, that is in it, for their temperate carriage, their discretion in general, and their liberty without comparison, for the earth affords not a freer place to live in: Yet she found in seville, the savour of a City, another I know not what, other Greatnesses, though not in the same quality, for there wanted Kings there to keep their Courts, nor so many Grandes and men of Title, at least in quantity; yet had they great store of wealth amongst them, and were in no less esteem; for silver was there as common amongst the vulgar sort, as Copper money in other places, and they made such small reckoning of it, that they spent it far more freely.  
Within a few days after we came thither, Lent was come, and we saw the Holy Week in that manner, as it is there solemnised, we saw the liberal alms that were there, and at that time bestowed on the poor, the store of Wax which was spent in Taper-lights. My wife was strooken with wonder, and as a woman besides herself, not well imagining how this could possibly be: so far did it outstrip in works, that which had been uttered of it in words.  
Now in this mean time, which was not long after my arrival in this City, I had, by the great care that I had taken, and by some circumstances, got to the knowledge of my mother, and if I may so say, had found her out by the track of her blood. For my wife entering into speech with some other fair Gentlewomen, that were of her acquaintance, as they were discoursing of diverse things, falling by the way upon her, she came to know, that she kept company with a handsome young Wench, to whom she was suspected to be Mother, for the good usage, wherewith she treated her, and for the due respect which she bore unto her. But in truth it was not so; for she had no 
Guzman hears news of his Mother, and how she got her living.  other child but myself. But the true cause thereof only was this; that seeing she was left thus all alone, poor, and growing now old, she had bred her up of a little Girl, to do her service hereafter, whom she now made profit of, whereby they made a shift to live as well as they could. ay, when I had notice of her, was very instant with her, to have her come live with me; but I could not win her to it, being wondrous loath to leave this young Wench, as well for that she had bred her up; as also, for that she was unwilling to have any difference with a daughter in Law, which, her discretion told her, could not well be avoided. And as oft as I entreated her thereunto, she would still answer me, 
a Does tocas en vn fuego, nunca ençienden lumbre à derechas. A mother in Law, and a daughter in-law, seldom agree well together.  Que dos tocas en vn fuego, nunc à en●…ienden lumbre à derechas. That two white Kerchiefs in one Kitchen, did never yet 
Proverb.  make good fire: Themselves being apt to kindle one another, then to kindle it. For the sorrow is not so great which a woman suffers, when she lives alone, by, and of herself, as is the torment which she endureth, when she is enforced to keep Company contrary to her liking. And seeing that there was never yet any daughter in Law, that could live peaceably and lovingly with her Mother in Law, she was of the mind, that my wife would live more merrily alone by herself with me, and rest better contented with it, then if she should live with her. But in the end, the love of a son prevailed so far with her, that I had persuaded her to yield to my desire. She was my Mother, I desired to cherish her, and to make much of her, and that she might now take her ease in her old age. For albeit to me she did still represent herself with the selfsame beauty, and the same freshness of colour, and clearness of skin, with the which I left her, when I parted from her; yet was she now so quite altered from that she was, that it was hard to say, This is she. I found her lean, old, tawny, toothless, her face 
Beauty's frailty.  (like an old Apple- john) all shrivelled, and altogether another kind of creature. I saw in her the ruins of Time; and how years consume every thing. Where-upon turning myself about to my Wife, and looking wistly upon her, I told her; This fair face of thine must run the like Fortune one day; beauty will not last for ever: And if at any time a woman chance to escape that deformity, which age layeth upon her; yet at least she must fall at last into the hands of death, which will dis-figure even the youngest body, and claw all the flesh from the bones. I did figure the like unto myself. But as well in this, as in all other those good considerations, which had offered themselves 
Guzman vnsettled in his good resolutions.  unto me, I did just as he doth, who comes to drink in an Inn, that stands in the Highway, who as soon as he has drunk, sets down the glass, and goes his way. They stayed but a little while with me; I kept them still going, but never proffered them a chair to sit down and rest themselves; for those that I had in my house, were occupied and taken up by Appetite, and Sensuality. At my earnest entreaty, the Mother and Daughter in Law 
See the first book the first Part. Chap. 1. & 2.  came to house together. My Mother, you knew her well enough before, though not by sight, yet by report, and those famous things you had heard of her. She was able to overmaster the best of them, not any of them all that could go beyond her for her wit, and her understanding; as well because these things were so naturally and truly her own; as also, for that she had been schooled and trained up in them; and above all, having the advantage of so many years experience.  
She gave my wife very good counsel, advising her, that she should not 
The instructions of the Mother in Law, to her daughter in Law. Proverb.  admit into her company the young men of that street wherein she dwelled, but (like the Fox) should fetch her prey farther off; for besides the infamy and dis-honour that she should get thereby, she told her; that they are Como agua de por San juan; 
a Aquas de por San juan; quitan el provecho, y no lo dan.  quitan el provecho, y elloes no lo dan; Like unto your Midsummer rain, which quits all profit, and yields no gain. They will rather draw from you, then bring any benefit to you. They dine and sup still at home, and when they know not what to do, or how otherwise to bestow their time, then will they come to our house, and look to be entertained by us in good conversation; there will they stay all that evening; Tres neçios en 
Proverb.  plata, 
b Tres neçios en plata, y un majadero en menudos.  y un majadero en menudos; Three fools in one dish, and a blockhead cut out in Sippets. Having no other ground for their acquaintance, but this weak foundation, that they are (forsooth) of the same street or Parish, wherein you dwell.  
Of your Court Pages, your Students at Law, and your University young 
Pages. Students. Scholars.  Fry, she read the like Lecture unto her; telling her, that they were like unto Crows, which would smell out flesh a far off, and were good for nothing else but to peck at it, and when they had done, get them gone.  
She wished her to set a Cross upon her door, to keep all married men out; for, from no enemy that she had, could she receive greater harm. For 
Married men. I ealous wives, their condition.  wives that are jealous, commit a thousand outrages, and cause millions of inconveniences to come upon you. And when they cannot come to mischief you, and work their will upon you themselves (for not one amongst a thousand of them, but will scratch out your eyes, if she do but imagine, you draw the custom from their Mill) they will get them to this, or that judge, and with four tears, two sighs, one wry mouth, and a wring of the hands, they will put all the Town in an uproar, and utterly overthrow your credit. In a word, she gave in this kind, many true, wholesome, and sound Instructions, as one that from the very womb of her Mother, proceeded Doctress in her Art, had all her Lessons that she had learned, at her finger's ends, and knew how to make use of them. She carried her always along with her, whither-soever she went, omitting no station, that she did not go unto; no Feast, that she did not visit, nor no street, that she did not walk thorough.  
When then they came home, they would one while return with Tasselgentles, 
Kind Lovers. Rough hewed Hackster's.  amorous Knights, like Amadis de Gaul, that would easily be man'd, and quickly brought to stoop to the Lure; and otherwhiles with fierce Mastiffs, roaring Boys, and ruffianlike Swaggerers, such as would swear and drink, and throw the house out at the Windows; And out of these my Mother did cull, and pick out such, as she thought would make most for our profit: for, having traded so long as she had done in that Country, she knew which track to take, there was not that path, which she had not beaten; nor that thing which she did not know; and knowing all, she knew best how to go beyond them all.  
For your beardless young Gallants, and Sattin-cheekt boys, she would 
Young Gallants.  not have her to have any thing to do with them; nor to be beholding to them for so much as a stick of fire, which is a common courtesy betwixt neighbour and neighbour. For such as these will not stick to tell you, that their penny is as good silver as yours; their Sugar-pellets, are as sweet as your Conserves; that their gay clothes, their curled Locks, and strong Perfumes, deserve your person, and that you should kindly (without any other retaliation) entertain their love: And they will also think (being well conceited of themselves) that you should rather woe them, than they you; and that you should make them a curtsy, and cry, I thank you Sir. She took a great deal of pains with her in these, and the like; but above all, she bid her take heed, that she held no commerce or correspondence with those of the Place of San Francisco, and that she should be afraid how she did meddle with them; for if she once begin to have any thing to do with your Officers of the Courts of justice; as your Clerks, and Registers, the whole rabble of 
Lawyers and their Clerks.  them will run in upon you, even to those that write at the Desk, and will copy you out a sheet for a groat. And being they follow the Law, they think, that all that is yours, is theirs, and that of right it belongs unto them. For if you oncefall into their hands, there is no scaping from them; for either by fair means, or by foul; by entreaties, or by threatenings, being so absolute, and so dissolute, as they are, (I mean some of them) they exercise more Tyrannies, and more cruelties, than Totila, or Dionysius, as if there were not a God for them, as well as for other folks.  
The Fleet was not come; the City was in great want; their purses were shut, and our mouths open; and we were ready to dye for hunger. We fell a selling, and then a eating; and which was worse, we paid a great rent, and had little comings in. All went ill with us, we had brawling and scolding at home, and the poor Maid that was in our house, she paid for it; off goes her Kerchief, and with it her hair, tugging her thereby upon every light or slight occasion, keeping a great deal of stir about toys and trifles, that were not worth the talking of. There was not that Rogue, or base Rascal, but would dare to do us wrong, and not stick to gibe and Fleare at 
Proverb. Don Fulano, y Cutano: Words of scorn, men not deigning to call us by our own name. Intimating that we are base fellows, and not worthy to be made any reckoning of. Covarrwias. The Mother-in-Law, and Daughter in Law, fall together by the cares.  us; one saluting me in scorn, with the stile, of Senor Don Fulano, and another with that of Don Cutano. My Wife lived in a continual fear, and was now grown weary, and sick of the Mother-in-Law; For in regard that with me, she had lived so long at her own liberty, and had taken so much head, and now finding herself somewhat restrained of it, and that she could no longer be Mistress of her own will; and that if the one did but speak, the other would begin to grumble; of every gnat, they made a Camel; and of Molehills, Mountains. And such a cruel storm & tempest would arise between them, that because I would not be Stickler between them, or seem to take one part more than another, I would take my Cloak, and throwing it on my shoulders, when I saw these Dolfines once begin to play above water, and hie me (with all the haste I could) out of the house, and get me abroad, leaving them together by the ears, tugging one another's head-geare off; fight Dog, fight Bear, take them off who would, for me. For I would have nothing to do with them.  
My Wife hereat was so mad, and grew so angry with me, that I would not show myself on her side, that by little and little she grew to hate me; that 
Guzman's wife begins to hate her husband.  whether it were right or wrong, she thought it fit, that Man and Wife, seeing God had joined us together, we should cleave each to other; or whether with, or without reason, I had great reason to take her part against my Mother: but that on the other side I held not to be so lawful.  
Whereupon her hate grew to that height, and she did so abhor my company, that meeting with an occasion by means of a Captain of the Galleys 
Guzman's wife goes away with a Captain of the Neapolitan Galleys.  of Naples, that lay there in the road, she exchanged my love for his. And gathering all the money together she was able to make, and those jewels of Gold and Silver, which we were stored with at that time, she hoist sail, and went for Italy, I not knowing then for the present, what was become of her.  
I have heard it spoken, That he is a Madman, or a Fool, that will seek after his Wife, when she is once gone. And that a man should make a golden 
a Prou. All enemigo, hazer la puente de plata, por donde huyesse.  Bridge, for a flying enemy: And be glad, that he can be so rid of him.  
I thought with myself, That I should better be 
b Proverb. Mejor solo, que mal accompanado.  alone, then ill accompanied. For, although it be true, that I gave way to all her desires, and so had all my maintenance by that means; whereas otherwise I should have wanted meat to put in my mouth; and clothes, to put on my back; yet I grew weary of it, because every one had one fling or other at me.  
See the force of use; for being that I was always bred up to baseness, and 
The force of 〈◊〉.  was ever accustomed to hear affronts, when I was a child, and afterwards when I grew somewhat bigger, I could the better bear them, when I came to be a man.  
My Wife was gone from me, and therein she did me a favour; for besides that I was now free from that obligation of giving way, that she should lead that kind of life, which she did; I was likewise free from that daily sin, which might have lain upon my conscience; For I did not cast her off; but she for to satisfy her own wilful humour, absented herself from me. And it was impossible, that I should follow her, and hunt her out for the hazard that I should run, if I should return back again into Italy. These difficulties therefore offering themselves unto me, I led a retired life with my Mother. And not having wherewithal handsomely to maintain ourselves, we fell a selling such householdstuff as was left. But there being more days 
Guzman sells all 〈◊〉 ●…ath.  in the year, than we had implements in the house, all was gone within a very short time. Saint john, 
a Proverb. San juan, y Co●…pus Chris●…, ●…veron para ●…i, en Vn dia. Guzman falls to stealing of C●…oakes.  & Corpus Christi, happened to me all on a day. I had now brought both ends together: I wanted goods to sell, and money to buy. I found myself out of reparations, not having wherewithal to clothe my back, nor to feed my belly; not any thing else, whereby to gain a penny, unless I should fall again to my old trade. I got me forth a nights into those streets, where there were diverse turnings, or cross-ways, and when I had made my purchase, I would come home laden with two or three Cloaks, such as I could compass with least trouble, and peril to my person.  
The next morning, one of these two courses I took with them, that I turned them in a trice either into Mandillians, Doublets, and Hose, altering the property of them, or else rid my hands otherwise of them as handsomely as I could. But commonly when I had changed the fashion of them, in the dusk of the Evening I would get me unto the Gradas, and there barter them away, either for other Ware, or ready money, as others did.  
This kind of trading my Mother was not so well pleased with, she did 
His Mother and ●…e part.  not like well of it; as well, for that she had never used it in all her life; as also, for that she would not willingly now in her old Age, run the hazard of so foul an affront.  
Where-upon, she resolved with herself, once more to open shop, and see what good she could do by her old Trade; she, and the young Wench, 
She follows her old course; and ●…e ●…is.  (which she lived withal before) being agreed to become partners, and equally to share all gains between them. O how glad was she, when she saw my Mother come within her doors, how did she hug and embrace her, as if she had brought in the Indies with her; or were the only Physician to recover the sick and decayed estate of her low-brought fortunes, having no such utterance of her Ware, nor nothing the like doings now, as when she lived with her! I (my Mother being now gone from me) quickly brought myself acquainted with some other good fellows, with whom I might merrily pass my life, till fortune should change, and the times grow better. These my Comrades, I fitted them with invention, plotted their businesses for them, assisted them in all occasions with my person, went along with them to the Towns and Villages near adjoining. And whatsoever else we did chance to light upon by the way, we did never likely miss, in some of the back Courts belonging to their houses, a good Buck of clothes, which together with their Flasket, we made to vanish and disappear in an instant.  
We had in the Suburbs, and the Triana, certain known houses, places of purpose for receipt, where, without entering into the City, we did pitch our Pikes, and make a Stand. There did we dry our clothes, and being 
thieves, & their cunning carriage.  clean washed, and handsomely folded up, by little and little we conveyed them into the City, one while through the gates, another while over the walls, after midnight was past, when the justice had done walking the Round, and was retired home. For those garments of Cloth and of Silk, which by our industry we had purloined here and there, as we could come to lay hands on them, we had known Brokers for them, to whom we sold them at a reasonable good price, losing little or nothing of what they were worth, which being once delivered up into their hands, they well knew that they would pass for currant, as goods that had been gotten in a just war, and were their crafts-masters in altering the form and fashion of them, to the end that they might not be known, for fear of after-claps. For we had no other obligation, but to give them good wares for their money, dry, and well-conditioned, putting it within the doors of their houses free from tax and tallage, and all other payments, leaving them to be freely enjoyed by them. Your clean white linen had quick dispatch, in regard of the good conveniency that was offered us to come easily by it; as also for that it was very good chaffer, to traffic away with strangers. And in this manner did we maintain ourselves bravely, and went well & clear away with it.  
One time (I remember) in the Winter, there was such a continued rain without intermission, that none did dare to go out of doors; so that the owners of those houses, keeping themselves within, all commodity of visiting them was taken away from us; whereby money began to grow scant with us. It was my hap at that time, as I was passing along through a certain street, that I espied all the forepart of a house quite fall'n down to the ground. I asked whose house that was? They told me it was a Gentlewoman's that was a Widow. I went, and sought her out, and desired her, That seeing there was no body dwelled in her house, she would give me leave to go in, and lodge there, promising her to look carefully unto it. She (good Woman) being afraid lest the whole house should come tumbling down about my ears, told me; That I were best take heed what I did, lest the house should chance to fall. As for that (I answered again, it made no great matter, for that there was an upper room (which as I conceived) was strong, and sure enough, where-into I might safely retire myself: telling her besides; That such as were poor (as I was) had no cause of fear, or loss; life being to them rather a burden, than otherwise; and was the thing, which of all other, they could best spare. Where-upon, very willingly she gave me leave so to do. And I presently, without any more ado, got me in, and within some four days after, there was not a door, which I had not unhindged, nor a lock, which I had not ripped off.  
The next day after, I got me into the street of San Saluador, and there I caůsed it to be openly cried at the Cross, that whosoever would buy four 
Guzman robs a Widow of her Tile-stones; and how?  or five thousand Tile-stones, he should repair unto me; for I had authority to sell them unto them. At that time, there was not a Tile to be got in all the whole Town for any money. Anon after came posting unto me three or four Masons and Brick-layers, and happy was he that could come first, all of them earnestly striving, which of them should have the bargain out of each others hands, and were ready to go together by the ears about it.  
Well, they came to agreement with me for five Maravedis a Tile; and bringing them to the house, I made show of them unto them; telling them that I was the Mayor-domo, or Steward of the house, and that my Mistress was minded to pull it quite down to the ground, and build it all new after another manner. Besides these of mine, which I made myself Master of for the time, I showed them others of our next neighbours, joining house to house with us, being so near the other, as they seemed to be fellows, which likewise they were to have away with them. They gave me six hundred Royals in good ready coin, upon condition, that I should make up my tale of Tiles, to the full number of five thousand; telling me, that the next day they would come and fetch them away.  
When I had my money, I hasted away to the Mistress of the house, and said unto her; that it was great pity, that she had given leave to her Mayor-domo, to make sale of all the doors, and tiles that covered her houses. Whereupon she grew into a great rage, and kept a foul coil about it, saying, She had no Mayor-domo, nor yet knew, who had any such authority to do it. Thereupon I told her; That your Worship then may know, who it is that takes this upon him; I have been already commanded to get me out of the house, and that I must have nothing to do there any more. Wherefore I must be enforced to look out a lodging elsewhere. For to morrow very early, those that have bought the Tiles, will come to carry them away. Your Worship may be pleased to send some body thither, or to take the pains to go yourself, and then you shall see what hath passed. This said, I took my leave of her; and the next day following, standing aloof off, leaning against the corner of a Wall, I kept myself close, to see the stir that would be about this business; and I can assure you, it was sport alone, and was able to make as many as beheld it, to break their hearts with laughing, to see how busy the Tilers were, in untyling the house, and how the poor Gentlewoman bestirred herself, to defend her own. In conclusion, she exhibited a Complaint against the poor Tyler, and did not only take away the Tiles from him, but also made him pay the price of her doors and locks. This caused me for some few days to keep myself close within doors, having a good fire, and laughing in my sleeve, till the storm was overpassed, and that they had given over looking after me.  
One day, there was a great feast in San Augustin; and because such kind of meetings made for us, I got me thither. Where I perceived, that a Gentleman had good store of money loose in his left Pocket, on that side where his Rapier hung. Now, when he came into a place, where there was a great 
Guzman picks a Gentleman's Pocket.  press of people, and that there was much thrusting and crowding one another, I did gently lift up his Hangers, and thrusting in my hand, did nimbly dive to the bottom, letting not so much as one Royal escape my fingers. But the unquiet motion of those that were about me, hindered my hand, being so full as it was, to carry it away cleanly, by means whereof a great deal of it fell down upon the ground. And for that the Cloister was paved, it made a great gingling; With that I let all go, and putting my hand into my Pocket, in a trice I took out my Handkerchief, and crying to the people, that they would for God's sake give back, and make a little room, for that in pulling forth my Handkerchief, I had shed all my money. All very kindly did as I desired them; and the good honest Gentleman, whom I had thus robbed, moved out of charity, hearing the piteous moan that I made, crying out, that I was with these moneys to pay my Merchant, stooped down with me to the ground, and holp me to gather it up, till I had all to the last Royal. I gave him thanks for his pains, and getting out of the throng, I went home well contented. This was that Knife that cut my throat; this poor little theft, was my final perdition and utter undoing; being the last that I did, and for the which I paid dearer than all the rest. For albeit heretofore I had been taken in the like manner, yet, for all those storms, I arrived at last in a safe Haven. With money I could negociate what I list myself; and there, and in every place, there is no other talk, then how a man may make a shift to live, and to get wherewithal to maintain his port; this was, is and will be the practice as long as the world is the world; judges have hands to take; and Malefactor's money to give. Every man (you know) would fain live by his place. But now those Trumps would do me no good, for I had renounced them long ago. When I was flush of money, I would seek to furnish myself afresh, before they were spent, for preventions-sake. I would make new provision; for as long as I could out of mine own ability, supply my necessities and wants, I did not seek after encumbrances, or to draw sorrow upon myself. I had in a corner some Purses, that I had cut, and some pretty little strange pieces, that I had met withal. I made choice of one that I liked best of, and caused it to be handsomely trimmed up, and putting into it six Crowns, in three Doblones of gold, fifty Royals in Plate, a silver Thimble, and four Rings; I carried it to my Mother, and showed her every thing particularly by itself, using therein a great deal of leisure, pausing well between every parcel: I likewise did set down the same in writing unto her, to the end that she might learn it without book, and not miss one letter of the lesson that I had taught her: for a good memory is all in all; and that which in this business did most of all import us. And having well instructed her in that which she was to do, when she was to 
Guzman craftily cousins a Preacher, and gets a good alms, and how he did it.  come afterwards to repetitions, I got me to the Cell of a certain famous Preacher, who was a good man, and a holy, and reputed and reverenced of all men, as if he had been some Saint, and said unto him;  
Reverend Father, I am a poor stranger in this place, I am come hither to this City, and am at this present in great want and necessity; I desire to accommodate myself, if I could light upon some honest house, where I might live peaceably and quietly for my soul's health; this is the only thing that I desire in this world; as for any set wages, I shall not stand much upon that. For so as I may have honest clothes to my back, (I care not how mean, so they be whole,) and some set Commons, (though never so poor) to pass over this miserable life, I should well content myself therewithal, without either hope, or desire of any farther profit. And albeit I am in this wretched estate as you see, and that I am nothing but rags; in so much that for lack of decent and seemly clothes (being so ill clad as I am) I shall not happily light upon any, that will take me into his service; and albeit I could for the present be able to help myself, and supply this my necessity by an occasion, that is now offered unto me to relieve my wants, yet I hold it better to suffer penury, and to rely upon a hopeful expectation of God's helping hand (who will at one time or other pity the distressed state of the poor) then by offending his divine Majesty, in usurping upon the goods of my neighbour. God forbid that other men's Purses should free me from my corporal labour, leaving to myself a guilty and condemning conscience.  
I got me this morning out of my lodging, for to seek some work, whereby I might gain me bread to put in my mouth, and it was my good hap to find this Purse in the midst of the street: I took it up, and went to look what was in it. And when I perceived it was money, I presently shut the Purse, fearing left mine own weakness might draw me to do an unlawful Act. I shall entreat your Fatherhood, to take it into your hands, and being that you are next Sunday to preach, that you will publish the same to the people. It may be, that the Owner thereof may be present there, or by others report chance to hear of it, who peradventure may have as much, if not more need of it then I have. Much good may it do him with it, for I will not enjoy any other goods, save only such, as his divine Majesty may be best served by me.  
The honest Friar, when he had heard me out, and saw the heroical disposition that was in me, took me to be rather a Saint, than a man. And he did so much honour and reverence me for it, that there only was wanting the kissing of my garment: and in a heavenly kind of language, he thus spoke unto me:  
My dear brother; give hearty thanks to almighty God, that he hath conferred upon you so clear an understanding, and the knowledge of that little esteem which we are to make of the goods of this world, and assure yourself, that he, that hath communicated unto you this his holy Spirit, will (as he hath promised in his holy Word) provide for you, and minister such things unto you, as his divine wisdom shall think fit and needful for you. He, who to the poor lest little Worms, and all your small fleshless and bloodless Vermin (as your Ants, Flies, Caterpillars, and the like hurtful creeping things, that crawl upon the earth) is not wanting, but careth for them, shall much more be mindful of you, and supply you with all those things, that he shall see you stand in need of: not only freeing you from these your present miseries, but farther increasing your joys, and his blessings upon you. This action of yours, is a supernatural and divine work, which strikes admiration into men, and stirs up those Angelical spirits of heaven, to sing forth a thousand Hymns of praise and thanksgiving, that such a noble creature was borne for the glory of God, and the good of the world. This is his gift, and none but his, acknowledge it, and magnify his praise by speaking good of his holy Name, and persevering in virtue.  
I shall do as you would have me, and see you return again unto me some day in the next week; for I hope in God, I shall be able to do you much good, and procure some favour to be be shown unto you.  
When this good man had made an end of these his holy words, my heart therewith (me thought) was quite pierced thorough, and began to bleed within me; for considering the greatness of his Sanctity and sincerity; and on the contrary, of my roguery and villainy, who by such vile and wicked means, should go about to make him the instrument of my thefts; and the more to colour the business, I let fall a few feigned tears; this holy Friar, thought I had shed them for God's sake, and there-upon began likewise himself to grow somewhat tender.  
This matter rested thus till the next Sunday following, which was All Saint's day; and when he came to preach, he spent the greatest part of his Sermon in this business of mine, endearing that Act so much the more, for that it had proceeded from a subject so much necessited; and did exaggerate it so to the height, that he moved all those that were there to compassion, and made them the willinger to do me good. So they repaired unto him with their alms, which they poured forth in a plentiful manner.  
On Monday morning, my Mother came to the 
a Portaria in your religious houses, is that gate or Porter's lodge, belonging to the Covent. Covarrwias.  Portaria, and asked for that holy Father; saying, that she was to speak with him about an earnest piece of business. The Porter, who perceived how desirous she was to come to the speech of him, went in to call him, and presently brought him unto her. Whom she no sooner saw, but taking hold of his hands, and his Habit, kneeling down before him, and offering to kiss his feet, told him; That the Purse was hers, desiring him for God's sake, that she might have it again. She acquainted him with all the outward marks of it, as also with the particular and remarkable pieces that were in it, as one that had well studied the Case. Where-upon the Friar, without any more ado, did deliver it unto her, knowing the tokens to be true.  
When my Mother had the purse in her own hands, she opened it, and taking out one of those three Doblones that were in it, she gave it to this holy Father to bestow upon me for the finding of it: As also four Royals, for two Masses to be said for the Souls in Purgatory; and for that purpose she re-commended them unto him. Thus did she recover her purse, and brought it presently home unto me, not wanting so much as a pins-head of all that was in it; for I had likewise of purpose wrapped some of those pieces in little parcels of paper, that it might the sooner seem to be some woman's purse, who use such kind of fiddling and fooling with their money.  
After this business was thus overpassed about some two days after, upon Wednesday towards the Evening, I went to visit my Friar; who against my coming thither, had provided me a Coffer full of clothes, which might very well outwear ten years, and spending money besides for some days. He gave it me with a cheerful countenance, and willed me to return again unto him the next day: For he had something else to say unto me, and he did not doubt, but it should be much for my good. I did so; repairing unto him at the time appointed: Then did he ask me, whether I could write or no? I informed him of my sufficiency in that kind. Whereupon he told me, that there was a certain Gentlewoman, whose Husband was in the Indies, who did much desire to have such a one as I was, to follow her business, and to have a care to husband her estate both in the City, and in the Country, and to be true and faithful in those things that she should commit to my charge; and that therefore I should deal plainly with him, and truly tell him, whether I could like of this course or no? for that, according to my answer, he should seek, or not seek to settle me there, as he saw I stood affected.  
I (after that I had given him thanks) said unto him; My good father, that which appertains to my personal pains, to my solicitude, diligence, and fidelity, wherewith I ought to serve her, this I am able to tender unto you; but I must tell you withal, that I am not of this Country, nor have any known acquaintance in these parts. And therefore, if this Gentlewoman shall put her goods into my hands, and that I must have the disposing of them, she will expect that some body shall be bound for my truth; but I am not able to give her any security; and this is likely to be the only rub that I know. I leave it therefore to your fatherly consideration, what is to be done in this case, craving your advice therein. He told me, that he would be my Surety; and that if that were all that I stood upon, that stop should not dam up the way, wishing me not to forgo so fair an offer. I accepted it very willingly. For I saw, that by this means, my business was in a good forwardness, and would find legs to go well on with it. For there is not any thing, that doth sooner deceive a just and an honest-minded man, than the simulated sanctity of a wicked and counterfeit Rogue.   

CHAPTER VII.  
Guzman de Alfarache, being preferred to a Gentlewoman's service, robs her; Upon this theft he is apprehended, and condemned to the Galleys during life.  
SO great is the force of Custom, as well in the roughness of 
Of Custom, and the force thereof.  troubles and afflictions, as in the smooth waters of happiness and prosperity, that some ease in the miserable, doth lighten the load, and doth in some sort help to make them seem more facile in their sufferance; but the greater burden lights upon those that have lived well and happily; there is no grief to this; comfort hardly takes hold on them: Fortune cannot do a man more harm, then when she hath invested him with a habit of Happiness, to dis-robe him thereof, and that disgracefully: for this unexpected privation makes it the more insupportable.  
This Custom is that uncontrolled Lord, that prescribes, and proscribes Laws at his pleasure; infirming some, and confirming others; ratifying this, and dis-annulling that. He (like a powerful Prince) prohibits here, and establisheth there; and consequently, to that side, whereunto he leans, he carries all after him, as well in the pursuit of Vice, as in the practice of Virtue. So that, if he apply himself to goodness, he easily runneth the danger of losing it; and adhering to that which is evil, it will hardly afterwards be rooted out. There is no force that can subdue it; but hath power & command over all humane actions.  
Some have called Custom a second Nature; but experience teacheth us, that its power is greater than that of Nature; For Custom will overthrow Nature with her little finger. She is no body in her hands: if she affect sour and bitter things, with such artifice doth she conserve and sweeten them; that as if they were not bitter at all, she makes them to become sweet and pleasant. But if she clap in close with Truth, and link herself in League with her, she is then the mightiest Monarch that is, and her Fort is inexpugnable. Who but she makes the poor Shepherd to live alone by himself in the solitary fields, in the depth of the low Valleys, and on the tops of high Mountains, amidst Bushes, and Thorns, Woods, and Rocks, opposing himself against the unmercifulness & cruelty of a sharp and rigorous Winter, suffering terrible Storms, continual Rains, bitter Winds, and piercing Airs? And in the Summer, a parching, and scorching Sun, which doth as it were roast, and sing the Trees, burn Stones, and melt Metals? And its force being so great, that it tameth the fiercest and wildest beasts, and those that are most venomous, bridling their fury, and allaying their poison, Time at last overcometh Custom; it is he, and none but he, that works upon it, and to him only it is subject.  
For comparing Custom with Time, her long and strong prescriptions are 
Custom must yield to Time.  but as Spider's webs, made to catch an Elephant: For, if Custom be powerful, Time is prudent and wife. And as Wit goes beyond Strength; so Time subdueth Custom. After night, comes day; after light, darkness: They tread one upon the heels of another; and the shadow that follows after the body, and growing greater and greater, contests with him for superiority. The fire wageth war with the Air; the Earth, with the Water, and all the Elements go together by the ears, and are at a perpetual enmity one with another. The Sun generates the Gold, it gives it its essence, and its life. In like manner, Time pursues, prosecutes, and fortifies Custom. It makes and it mars, working wisely with silence, according to the selfsame order, as she is wont by continued drops, to hollow the hardest stone.  
Custom is of others, not ours; but Time is our own. It is he that discovereth the thread, manifesting what is most secret, and by the fire of occasion, maketh an essay and trial of his Art. By experience, he teacheth us the quilates and aloy of that gold, & showeth us the end whereunto his pretensions tend; And declared himself at last to be one, that never took any pity of me. For, in a very short space, he made that public, which I had laboured with all diligence to keep hid and secret. All that which hath been said, was verified truly of myself in its proper terms and cases. O how often treating of my businesses, trading of my wares, putting money out to use, framing nets to catch fools, by raising of my prices, selling my commodities far dearer to him that went upon trust, then him that paid ready money, carrying always my Beads in my hand, my countenance composed, and still the same; with a Truly, and a Verily in my mouth (from whence never any truth yet came) I did openly (according to my old Custom) cousin and steal from as many as I had to do withal! but Time did discover all my rogueries.  
How often, and by how many, have I been heard to say; I promise you 
The common course of Tradesmen.  Sir, that it stood me in more, I cannot afford it you at that price, I vow and protest unto you, that I get not a Royal by you, in all this whole parcel of Wares that you have bought of me? I may go shut up my shop, if I make many such markets. And if I have let you have it better cheap than I could afford it; it is because I am to make some payment of moneys, and if it were not for that, you should not have them at this rate. And the same course I took in a thousand other things of the like nature, not having any other use then for moneys; more than from their hands to mine, to gain a hundred in a hundred.  
How often likewise, when I was in my prosperity, during this my good 
Guzman delivers some things worthy our consideration, but to be avoided by us.  fortune, and studying daily to grow greater and greater (only that I might get myself a good opinion in the world, merely for vainglory, and not for the love of God: for I did not so much as dream upon him, nor think upon any thing else, save only to be well thought of, and to have the people's eyes upon me, who taking me to be a charitable minded man, and a giver of alms, would gather there-upon, that I was a man of a good Conscience, and that I had a care of my soul's health, and therefore might the better trust me) did I cause a great number of poor, morning after morning to come to my door, and keeping them there two or three hours, that there might be good notice taken of them, and seen over and over by those that passed along by my house, did I afterwards send away with (God he knows) a poor slender alms, whilst with that no nada, that thing of nothing which they received from me, I did gain myself a good reputation, which like a stalking horse, I made use of, the better to get other men's goods into my hands? How often have I divided a loaf of bread in twain, (when I was no whit hungry, but as full as my belly could hold) and of that which remained, as if it were a thing to be lost, or to be cast away to the dogs, did I part in a thousand pieces, and bestow it afterwards on the poor? Nor did I give it unto those, who, I knew had most need of it; but to those, by whose mouths, I knew, it would be most spoken of, and divulged to the world. And how often (having a bloody heart, and a damnable intention, being naturally cowardly, timorous, and feeble) did I pardon, and put up injuries, putting them in public to God's account, mine own thoughts secretly condemning me, did I in secret dissemble them, not sticking to say in public, God be thanked for it; when I was truly inwardly offended, and that no other thing in the world did hinder my revenge, but that I was fearful, and found myself unable to put it in execution? But the coals thereof were alive, and did burn within my soul, whose flames I had much ado to suppress. How often at other times, did I show myself an abstinent and orderly faster, not for any other thing in the world, then to seem to be such a one, and that I might spend less, and spare the more? But when I did eat at another man's cost, or spend upon another man's Purse, I did then swallow down my victuals like a Cormorant, than I had a Wolf in my belly, and was still afraid, that I should never have enough. I did continually visit the Churches, I would often both go and send to the Prisons, only to get myself credit amongst the Officers there, and such other Ministers as belonged unto them, and not for to do any good offices for the Prisoners, or any grateful work unto God. But rather to the end, that if it should be my ill hap at one time or other to come thither, being formerly known by them, they might use me the more kindly, and bear me the better respect. If I repaired to the Hospitals, if I went upon Pilgrimage, if I did frequent places of Devotion, kissing, nay, gnawing as it were the Altars, out of a hungry zeal; if I would not lose a Sermon, nor a jubilee, nor any public devotion, all those steps that I trod, and all that pains that I took, were only directed to the getting me a good name, to the intent that under the colour thereof, I might the better cousin my neighbour, and take his cloak from off his back.  
Moreover, I must not forget to tell you, that diverse things were now and then told me, and those very secret ones, touching such, or such a person; the which were kept so close, that when afterwards, when I did chance to talk with those persons, whom they concerned, counselling them to leave off such and such courses, or rather correcting and reproving them for it, they imagined of me, that I had come to the knowledge of them by some divine revelation. And so by indirect ways, and a seeming kind of holiness in me, I gave them to understand their faults: by which means, I got myself a great deal of reputation, especially amongst the women, who after these things, and Gypsies, run as swift as the wind; being facile in believing, and nimble in publishing. Out of whose mouths, my praise and commendation went spreading itself abroad.  
Many a time and oft, when some poor body was willing to use my help, making especial choice of me, as one that was well esteemed and reputed of all men, I would stand in the open street with a Dish in my hand, publicly begging Alms for him, of those that I was acquainted withal: and having got a pretty round sum of money, I gave him the least part of it, and kept the rest to myself. I licked up the Cream, and left him the Whey.  
When I was minded to do some notable villainy, the first thing that I went about, for the better effecting of such a business, was to get me a very fair and goodly large jesuitical cloak, wherewith to cover it; and for the better dissembling of it, I would put on all the gestures of outward Sanctity, as submission, mortification, and good example; having the true turning up of the white of mine eye, a sober look, a grave utterance, seldom spitting, but when I was to speak to the purpose, a broad-waking Hat, a little Band, and a less pair of Breeches. And with this kind of habit, and posture, I bore the Ball before me, and tripped up the heels of all those that stood in my way. Which if in nothing else, yet was it plainly to be seen in this; that I had therewith so easily deceived this holy man, this good honest Friar, that wished me so well, nay had already done so well for me. Nor did I only do him this harm alone, but a greater mischief followed upon the neck of it. That he by no means lost that good opinion, which the world had of him: But say he had not lost it; and admit, that he kept it whole and sound, as before; yet, what a villainous instrument was I, and what just cause had I given of preiudicing, and that in no mean measure, the credit and reputation of so honest and innocent a creature as he was?  
Well, he had now placed me with this Gentlewoman, being verily persuaded of me, that I would do her all true and faithful service, as he might very well presume by those particular Actions, which I had made show of unto him of this my rare and singular (shall I say knavery, or) perfection? Well, what so e'er I was, I am sure he took me to be a very honest man. He gave his word for me, and trusted me with much of his own: I could not lack any thing, if it lay in his power to pleasure me, so good an opinion had he conceived of me. She willingly (upon his recommendation) received 
Guzman entertained into service by a Gentlewoman.  me into her service. She trusted me with her wealth and her family. She had ordained a very good lodging for me, provided a delicate soft bed for me, and all other necessaries that were fitting for me. She used me in all things else, not as a servant, but as a Kinsman, and as such a one, for whose sake, she did verily believe, that God would throw many favours upon her. Sometimes she would entreat me, to say an Aue-Mary for the health and good success of her Husband. I made answer to all her demands, as if I had been some Oracle, and with such a deal of mortification, that I made her many times to shed tears. By this means I came to cousin her, to rob her, and which was worst of all, to injure her, by wronging her house. For you shall understand, that this Gentlewoman had a certain fair white slave (none I wisse of these black Moors, but a handsome well-favoured Wench) to her Maid-servant, whom for a long time, I took to be freeborn, and she likewise seemed to be a good, and holy creature. But in very truth, she was such a one, that she and I might very well shake hands; of us both, there was never a barrel better Herring: Well, were she better or worse than myself, be she what she will be, let it suffice you, she and I had tumbled together 
Guzman lies with his Mistress' maid.  upon one bed. I know not how we did smell out one another, that in so short a time, we had grown to be so well acquainted. For within some few days that I had been in the house, there was no ho with her, I could not keep her out of my Chamber, would I never so fain, but she would come in whether I would or no. To all the rest of the servants, she seemed to be a Saint, and looked as though butter would not have melted in her mouth; but with me she showed herself most loose and dissolute, as if she had been bred up in some Brothel house, or trained to this gear in the public Stews, yet still carried herself with that wisdom and discretion, that none of the house, except myself, no not her Mistress could come to know, or the least way to suspect, that there was any such secret business between us. Besides, she did so cherish me, and make so much of me, that my Chest was never without good store of Collations, and other sweetmeats. So that my Chamber, was like a Comfit-maker's shop. She furnished me with a great deal of fine Linen, as white as the curd, neatly folded up, neat and sweet it was. And her Mistress was glad to see it; for she took us both to be Saints. She likewise gave me money to spend, not knowing whence she had it, nor how she came by it, or from whose hands she received it.  
I had a glimpse of some things: but because I would not fall from those good terms wherein I stood, I would not be too curious in the search of them; as well that I might not lose her company, while I continued there; as also that I might thereby oblige her the more unto me: I went entertaining her with fair words, and good hopes, telling her, that when time should serve, I would seek to redeem her out of her captivity, and afterwards make her my Wife. This seasoned the pot, made her rouse up her spirits, and like a Spaniel, to wait diligently upon me, and to serve me in any thing that she thought would please me. For, considering the love which I feigned to be are unto her, (though she were a crafty subtle Wench) she did evermore make sure account of me, as if I were not a freeman, and she a Slave. And yet not so free, as you think neither, having a Wife (for aught I knew to the contrary) still alive.  
My Mistress knew nothing concerning her own estate and wealth, nor did finger any other moneys, than what I gave her. All things that were in the City, went through my hands; I likewise had the command of all her stock abroad in the Country, and did take and gather in all the fruits and profits thereof. For my design was, to make a reasonable good round booty, and so, get me gone, to seek out a new world. I had a great mind to go to the Indies, and did but watch for an opportunity to embark myself, howsoever it should afterwards fall out with me. But I could not handsomely put this blow home. For my Mistress foreseeing her certain ruin, for that her Farmers and Tenants had told her, that they had paid in their rents to me; the Shepherds, that I had sold her flocks; the Bailiff of her Vineyards, that I had conuaid all her Wines out of their Vaults and Sellars, where they were wont to be kept; and that of all this one pennyworth thereof was not come to her purse; she resolved with herself to communicate this matter in private only to one Gentleman that was her near kinsman. She then acquainted him with all that had passed, and what an ill account I had made her, entreating him to apply some convenient remedy for the same. He, without speaking so much as a word thereof unto me, when as I was going one evening to cast up my reckoning, and to devose with myself, how I might make clean work of all that my Mistress had, not thinking (God wot) on any such thing, being devoid of all care, and free from the least suspicion of any such matter, the weather being hot, and myself very drowsy, I fell fast asleep.  
Now, whilst I was thus taking my rest, and thinking no body any harm, 
Guzman arrested and carried to Prison.  an Alguazil comes in suddenly upon me, taketh hold on me, and without telling me why, or wherefore; (for that (said he) I should know hereafter at better leisure) he carried me away to prison. The business was thus carried, that neither our house, nor the street, should be in a hurry and tumult, by any stir or coil that I should make, when I should come to know by whose order I was apprehended, and committed. I went along very sad and heavy, and knew not in the world what to think of it; one while devising with myself, whether this my Commitment were by virtue of some Requisitoria, or Commission come out of Italy? Whether it were at the suit of my Creditors in Castille? Or for some of my new thefts, that I had so lately committed in that City, which perhaps for want of good carriage, were now come to light? And albeit every one of these had weight enough to press down my heart, and to make it sink under so many, and such heavy burdens; yet did it grieve me more than all the rest, that I should now lie no more at rack and manger, as I was wont to do; and that together with my good name, I should likewise lose my credit and estimation, and that men would not trust me, as they had done heretofore. But what remedy but patience? But seeing it was no better, God be thanked it was no worse. For this misfortune befell me just at such a time when as my Crown was shaved, and had not any thing worth the speaking, that was to be found either about me, or at home in my lodging. For in regard that my Mother was a single woman, and lived alone by herself, by a little and a little, I carried all that I had scraped together, to her, and she kept it for me. Afterwards they broke open my Chest, but found nothing in it, but a Bull of the last year, and a few of old rags. Where-upon, they came to prison to take an account of me; giving them so bad a one, as might well be presumed from such a one as I was, who would always receive, but never pay.  
I did not give them such a Bead-roll, as they do, that pray upon their Beads. They laid great sums to my charge, but could meet with nothing but Blanks. They made strict inquisition to find them out; They looked here, and they looked there, but they could not light upon any thing, for I had not so much as one farthing of it in my custody. When they saw that, they got them to the Friar, and gave him a large account of the case how it stood with them.  
He (like a wise man) did neither condemn, nor absolve me, till he should hear, what I could say for myself, that he might the better judge thereof, when he had heard both parties. He came to the prison to visit me, and talking with me about this business, I denied all, and stood stiffly to it; affirming, that they had suborned false witnesses against me; and that I was as innocent as the child that was new borne; and that no man knew less thereof than I did. And therefore my hope was in God, and that he would help me; and that, as he had freed joseph and Susanna; so would he defend the justness of my cause, and would not suffer the uprightness of my dealing to perish: Acknowledging withal, that this, and much more chastisement my sins had deserved, for many other my former offences, which I had committed against his divine Majesty.  
The good religious man knew not what to do, nor to which of us he should give most credit He was much perplexed within himself, and stood doubtful to which side he should lean. But for the present, he inclined to that part that was falling, seeking to support the weakest. He gave me comfortable words, promising his best care and pains in my defence, recommending my businesses unto God, who would (when he saw fit) free me out of my troubles, and afford me his helping hand. He took his leave of me; from thence he went to the Escrivanos' office, for to abonar, and make good my Cause, desiring him for charities-sake, that he would have an especial care of it, and look well into it, telling him that he was verily persuaded, that I was a religious honest man, one that feared God, and was a Saint upon earth.  
But when the Escrivano heard him lash out so far into my commendation, laughing heartily thereat, he pulled forth some Processes, that had been put in against me, and making a relation unto him of the particular points therein contained, laying there before him, what a lewd kind of fellow I was; the thefts that I had committed; and the cozening tricks that I had used; the poor Friar was ashamed of himself. There-upon, this good holy Father, with all the sincerity and simplicity in the world, up and told him, what had passed betwixt him and me, and by what means he came to the first knowledge of me, and how, and for what cause, he gave me so much trust and credit; not thinking (good man) thereby, to do me any harm; but did only tell him this, that he might be the better persuaded of me, and that he himself had some reason to speak for me, and to do me all the lawful favour he could.  
When the Escrivano had heard this Tale, he grew Hart-angry, and his soul was vexed at this my villainy, to see that I had no more grace with me, but to make so grave a person a stale for my roguery; and that I should put so gross a jest upon so good a man. He was herewith so incensed against me, and his choler did rise in that abundance, that if he had had the Law in his own hands, I had presently been hanged out of the way, without any more ado. He left the Office, and went presently to the Te●…e, or Deputy Lieutenant, to whom he made a large relation of all the whole matter, and set it down all under his own hand, and finding himself as much affronted with this wrong I had done the Fryet, and that the parties aggrieved had passed over all their power unto him to prosecute it for them, as if it had been his own cause, they laid more and more to my charge, forming another new process against me of far greater aggravation than the former; and commanding me stricter imprisonment, willing the jailer to put me down into the dungeon.  
This unfortunate day did not catch me so naked, that I wanted money to be able to draw out my thread to its length, and to wage Law with them. But the Prison is of the nature and quality of fire; it consumeth all that 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  come unto it, converting it into its own proper substance. Large experiences had I made thereof, and by my account I found it to be a Windmill, and a May-game for children. There is not any one that comes thither, but is a Miller, and grinds there; crying out, that his imprisonment is but for a thing of nothing, a toy, a trifle; when as sometime it so falleth out, that they are committed thither for three or four murders, for a robbery upon the Highway, or for some other the like foul and odious offences. It is a place where fools set up their rest, a forced trial of a man's patience, a dear-bought experience, a too late repentance, a proovall of a man's friends, and a revengement of his enemies, a confused Commonwealth, a short Hell, a long Death, a haven of Sighs, a valley of Tears, a house of Madmen, a very Bedlam, where every one cries out, and loves to hear himself talk of his own foolish and wild pranks. And all of them being guilty, not a man of them that will confess he is faulty, nor that his crime is any thing heinous.  
They that are prisoners, are like unto your Grapes on a Vine Bower, which as soon as they wax ripe, there is not a sprig or bough of them which is not laden with Wasps, who insensibly (they having no feeling of it) suck all the juice and sweetness out of them, leaving only the Casks and Husks of them empty, hanging upon the Arbour; And as are the Grapes, so is the swarm; if great and more, the more Wasps; if few and small, the less. As it is with this Vine, and its Grapes; so is it with those that are led to Prison.  
The Officers and Ministers, that belong thereunto, come thick & threefold about him, clinging so close unto him, and sucking so hard from him, that they never leave him, till they have drawn him dry, and taken all his pith and substance from him. And when the poor Prisoner hath not longer wherewithal to feed their hungry maw, and that they have squeezed all his sweetness out of him, they fly away from him, and forget him, as if there had never been any such man, leaving him to himself poor, and comfortless. And this is as it were but a flea-biting, and a little evil, in comparison of a greater, which is too usual and common amongst them. For if the prisoner be poor, and have no money, they presently pronounce sentence against him, leaving him stark naked, and undone.  
As soon as they consign and deliver him over to the Master Keeper, or 
Touching layors, and Keepers of Prisons.  head-Iaylor, who hath the keeping and disposing of the upper-wards, and the best lodgings, they give him that entertainment as his purse shall deserve. For that Keeper or jailor does like him that buys; who has no respect to the quality of him that sells, but to the thing that he selleth: so to him it matters not, whether the prisoner be more one, than another; Noble, or base; Gentleman, or Clown; all is one for that: He looks only unto that which he gives him. When his Commitment is not a matter of importance, nor meriting corporal punishment, and is not of that heinous nature, as murder, theft, the foul sin, and other such like, they leave him at large to take the pleasure of the prison, always provided, that they pay him well for this his liberty. I was well used at the first, (for my cause was not criminal) and handsomely lodged, before that I had given security either to satisfy, or answer to that debt, wherewithal I was charged. By this time they all knew me, and all of us understood one another well enough, we were all Comrades, and hail fellow, well met, one with another. I gave them content, and stayed below amongst them, talking and passing away the time with them, but had evermore an eye, to see if I could safely get to the door, and stood still, watching an opportunity, when I might conveniently do it, and so give them the slip.  
But upon my first apprehending, as soon as I was come within sight of 
The fashion of Attorneys, and solicitors, and the like Officers of your Courts of justice.  the prison; as also, after that I was committed, there presently flocked about me twenty several Proctors, Attorneys, and solicitors, (who lived by the sins of the people) who with their pen and Paper, (which they never went without) took both my name, and the cause of my imprisonment; all of them making it a matter of nothing, and an easy suit to go through with. One of them would tell me, that the judge was his very good friend, and did favour all the causes that he brought before him; another, that he had a great interest in the public Notary; a third, that within two hours he would get me bailed; a fourth, that my business was a toy, a mere trifle, a thing of no consideration in the world, and that for six Royals, he would instantly undertake to free me. Every one of them would make himself Master of my cause, saying, that it did properly belong unto him, for that he had accompanied me, & come along with me, from the time of my Arrest. This man I entertained, for his plea of prevention, being unwilling to cross that Proverb; of First come, first served. Where-upon I entreated him, that he would call such an Escrivano, a friend of mine unto me. Another, for that he was the first that put pen to paper, and had drawn my Petition for me to the Teniente. But to myself, I laughed at them all. For I knew them well enough, and the manner of their proceeding. For they only live by what they can get and wring from a man beforehand; but afterwards you shall not draw them along, with two yoke of Oxen, they will so hang the Arse. And there was one of them that having a Power or Warrant to free a Thief, was not ashamed to ask him money for to make his Interrogatories, after that he should be condemned to the Galleys.  
Thus, all of them striving, which of them should be employed in my business, there comes me rushing in violently thorough the midst of them, a very bold and confident fellow, that thought to rule the roast, and to carry all away before him, one that had been my Proctor heretofore in criminal causes, and said unto me; What, Sir, are you here? I told him, yes. Which question he might have saved; for he saw I was sure enough. Then he asked me, What was the cause of my imprisonment? When I had told it him, he replied: Tush, Laugh and be merry, Sir, take no care for this, it is a toy, a trifle, I warrant you Sir, we will take order for this, and therefore let it never trouble you. Have you any money, Sir, that I may carry it to the Escrivano? I will post presently with a Petition to the Teniente, that you may put in Sureties to answer the matter, and in the mean time to have your liberty to follow your business. And if he shall refuse to grant you provision in this Case, we will have a Writ of remove, to bring the matter into the open Hall, and those that assist there in Counsel, shall presently give order for your release. I shall speak to one of them, who is my singular good Lord, and I dare pawn my word to you, that you shall not tarry here above half a day.  
When the others heard this, they said, Ha? how now? what's this? is the wind in that door? here is a pretty kind of form of framing a Petition withal my heart. Is this the course you mean to take? We have been some twenty of us and upward, these two long hours and better taking pains in this business, and will you now take the same out of our hands? Shall the hindermost dog bear away the Hare? Must he now follow the suit?  
My Proctor there-upon, made them this answer; My Masters, had you been writing and labouring about this business these two months and more; yet not withstanding upon my coming unto him, I am the man that must go thorough with it. For this Gentleman is my very good friend, and I am to dispatch all his businesses. And therefore a Gods name ye may be gone; and let my Client alone.  
When they heard him say so, they replied unto him; O what a sweet and seemly manner of negociating is this? What a fair flourish does he make? Where has he washed his hands, that he should shave us on this fashion, and carry away this cause so cleanly? You may be gone, Sir, and it please you; for this Gentleman knows reason, and will entertain him in his cause that he hath most mind to: and therefore what need so many words? In conclusion, one said I; and the other said no; and in the end, they differred so long about it, that they grew at last so hot and so angry one with another, that they began to rip up each others faults, and to tell (without any other bodies help) who they were; there was not that spot in their practice, which they did not lay open to view; nor that stain in their life, which they did not discover; showing how, and in what manner they did cousin the poor prisoners, and pick their money out of their purses. Which was a Dialogue (for those that heard it) of excellent entertainment, and passing good mirth; for that they were truths, represented to the life. And this (I assure you) is a common Trade amongst them, and this cozening course they take at all hours, and with all persons, as well prisoners, as others.  
Now, when this heat was overpassed, and all was quiet; I came to my old Proctor, entreating him to do what was fitting, and I would see him well contented for his pains. I gave him four Royals to begin withal: which when he had fingered, I could see my friend no more in fifteen days after. I knew well enough before, what he meant to do; and that he had no other errand unto me but this, to lick something from me, though it were never so little, the better to secure the seething of the Pot, against the next day following, and to have wherewithal to go to the Marketplace. But I was driven perforce to make choice of him, because I stood in fear of him: Who, for that he was well acquainted with all my old causes, if I should have refused him, or showed him any but the least unkindness, & that he should have taken a stitch there-upon against me, he would have discovered the pot of Roses, and thrown open the cloak that covered all my knaveries, and would in two hours have heaped upon me a hundred several accusations. So that partly choosing him, (by refusing the rest) and partly leaving him, (in the poorness of his Fee) as well to have him hold his peace, as to get him to follow my business; for I must have paid some body; I held it the best course to make him my Proctor, though this were not a business that required much following; but did mainly consist on matter of money. But afterwards when I began to be examined, and thoroughly sifted of that my audacious delusion, and imposture, which I had put upon that good Religious Friar, and that they came to compare cause with cause, than did I need a Proctor.  
Now things began to go on in good earnest; they called me up, and went about to clap bolts on my legs: but those I redeemed with my money. I paid the Keeper, who had the keeping of them, and the young fellow, that was to put them on, had his Fee likewise of me. My Escrivano now often visits me; my Petitions run up and down from place to place; Give me thus much, says my Solicitor; Where is my Fee, quoth my Advocate? Thus by little and little, like so many Horseleeches, they went sucking all my blood from me, till they had scarce left me one drop. So that now I was like a cluster of Grapes, that was quite dry'de away, and withered to nothing. Yet notwithstanding all these miseries, it is not fit, that I should pass over in silence, that which passed betwixt my Wench, and myself. For as much that every morning, as soon as it was day, she rained down Manna upon me; in her I found some help, for that she furnished me with all things that were necessary for me; and when the rigour of my imprisonment was upon me, being sentenced by the Teniente to the Galleys, she sent me a letter: which, for that it is a pleasant and a witty one, I thought good to make it known unto you; as also, because it is not amiss, to slacken the string, and unbend the bow, by recounting of something, that may serve for entertainment. Which letter spoke after this manner:  
To Senor Guzman de Alfarache, my hearts-ioy, and my hopes comfort.  
MY dear Love; (though now to my great grief, a poor condemned Slave) 
A letter of Guzman's wench lamenting his misfortunes.  I write these lines to no other end unto thee, save only to persuade thee to cast away sorrow, and to take comfort unto thee. Let it suffice (sweetheart) that I have none; and let me alone mourn for thee: for ever since Saint james his day, about two of the clock in the afternoon, when thou wast first apprehended whilst thou layest quietly asleep, who (hard-hearted as they were) would not let thee take out thy nap, my Soul hath much sorrowed for thee. But that which farther increaseth my affliction, is; that this sad news is brought to day to my ears, that the Teniente hath adjudged thee to two hundred stripes, and ten years' continuance in the Galleys. God lash his shoulders for it with whips of wire, and the knottiest, and severest scourges of his wrath; Let him live a slave all the days of his life in the Galleys, and then rot, and dye. It well appears, that he wishes thee not so well as I do; nor knows the bitterness of those tears that I shed for thee. Little does he think how dear thy love costs me.  
juliana wishes me to tell thee, that thou shouldst forthwith appeal from him. Appeal twenty times, and more (if more shall seem fitting unto thee) and take care for nothing; for (by the grace of God) I doubt not, but all shall go well enough in the end: And then, this Tyrannical Teniente shall see (though it grieve him) that thou shalt not for ever remain a prisoner to his pride: for I swear and vow unto thee by this my 
a Mulata, is a maid child, that is borne of a Negra, and a fair man; and so on the contrary. And because it is an extraordinary mixtur●…, they compare such a one is a Mule.  Mulata face, that I will make him to remember as long as he lives, the tears which he hath drawn from mine eyes; which have been so many, that I had much ado to keep them from the world's knowledge; And I should have poured them forth, till they should have grown to be great rivers, had I not feared, I should have been drowned in them, and so never have enjoyed thee more. By the faith that I owe unto thee, I will never cease weeping, till the fountains of my tears swell so high, that I may come swimming unto thee, and draw thee out of that dungeon, whereunto my Soul is chained, and remaineth there prisoner with thee. juliana can tell thee, how I tore my hair, when I heard this bad news. By her I have sent thee twenty royals, that thou may'st follow thy suit, be as merry as thou may'st, and that thou wouldst think on me, howbeit I knew the time, when such ceremonies needed not between thee and me: For had I been but a minute of an hour from thee, staying no longer away, then while I had put a few coals under the pot, thou didst think it a thousand years. Remember (my sweet Slave, my pretty Cage-bird) that I both love, and adore thee: And receive this green girdle from my hands, in token of the good hope which I have, that mine eyes shall quickly see thee set free. And if for to supply thy wants, it were needful that I should be sold, brand this my face with two hot irons, and set a Slaves mark in either cheek, and make sale of me in the open market: for assure thyself, I shall esteem it the greatest happiness that can be fall me, that my bondage may work thy freedom.  
Thou tell'st me, that Soto, thy Camarade is ill, and was never well, since the Hangman dealt so roughly with him, and strand the strings so hard, that he made him change his note; racking as much from him, as there needed no farther confession; it grieves me to the very heart, that a man of his spirit, should be so cowed by such a vile and base fellow, that for very fear, he should be forced to confess, not only his own, but other men's faults. Commend me unto him (though unknown) and tell him, that I am heartily sorry for him; share part of these Conserves with him, which I send you, which (my dear Love) I have made a shift to save for thee.  
Tomorrow is our kneading day, wherein we must mould up our bread, and put the loaves into the Oven; then shall I make thee such a friendly cake, and butter it so finely for thee, that thou shalt not be ashamed to bid thy best friends to the eating of it.  
Send me your foul linen, and shift daily, that you may keep yourself clean and sweet: For since that these mine arms cannot embrace thee, they shall tire and weary out themselves in thy service; as being most willing to do any thing, that may give thee content. My Mistress swears that she will hang thee, because she says, you have robbed her, of you know what; but I am sure, you have robbed another 
Proverb.  of more than she; of I know what, you know; To a wise man, 
a A Buen entendedor, pocas palabras.  a word is sufficient.  
If Usher Gomez shall come to see thee, talk not with him, or if thou dost, be very circumspect, what thou sayst unto him: For he is a man, that carries two faces under one hood; He seeks to insinuate himself into other men's bosoms, only to fifth them: And besides, he is a great friend to a cup of wine; And a drunken tongue (which I need not to tell thee) will blab out all it knows. I advertise thee of all: And because this is for no other end, I here end: yet never end to pray unto God, that he will preserve thee for me, and that he will free thee out of this filthy dungeon. From this thy chamber, about an hour before midnight, my cont emplation (sweet heart) being solely and wholly bestowed on thy bestbeloved self.  
Thy Slave till death.  
This wench's oil maintained the week alive, all the time of my troubles, which otherwise would have gone out. For I lived at a great charge, my expenses were many, and though I had made my harvest, and gathered a great deal together, yet all was melted away, like salt in water, or butter against the fire. My Mother likewise, when she saw in what bad terms my suit stood, told me; That she was robbed of all that she had; but as I did conceive (and I think truly) her meaning was to hold that fast which she had, when she saw it was to no purpose to let it go. Whereupon, I was enforced to do as the rest did, and to follow the currant. My plea still went on, and I wanted money to maintain my cause. I could not corrupt the Escrivano, (for I had nothing, wherewithal to bribe him) The judge, he was so highly incensed against me, that there was no hope of working him; My Proctor, he slept in the business, and would not stir a foot; and my Solicitor fled as far from me, as his legs would carry him. There was now no more juice in my bunch of grapes, the Wasps were now gone their way, and had left me all alone; they had pronounced Sentence against me, the effect whereof was, That I should be set upon an Ass, and so ride stripped to the waste, round about the Town, receive so many stripes; the Crier proclaiming my offence before me; and this done, to remain for six years in the Galleys.  
When I saw I must be made a Galleyslave, and that there was no redemption of this my punishment, I put on a brazen face on the matter, and grew careless of any man's either sight, or censure. I played my part without fear, or shame, as being now the King's Slave, and out of all other men's reach and danger, they having nothing more to do with me. Yet was it some comfort unto me, that my Camarade Soto was condemned to the like punishment, and that we should, like a couple of loving Curs, be tied together in one pair of couples. And as we were fellows and Companions in one Prison, and in one and the same Dungeon, and had run both of us one and the same Career; so was I very willing, that there might have been that good amity between us, and that true love that ought to have been; which if he had been the same man he should have been, it had gone better both with him and me, than now it did. But (as you shall see hereafter) he played the Traitor with me.  
He was a notable squeeze-grape, a huge quaffer, his glass should be always brimful, and he would up with it de profundis; his usual draught was a large pint & a half: and having drunk liberally before he came to the rack, thinking that would have made him less sensible of his pain, he confessed at the first, whatsoever they would have him. Seeing I had now received my doom, and that there was not any remedy, nor the least hope thereof, for my redemption, I was willing to try my fortune; but I never had her yet to friend: So that it had been a miracle, if she had not failed me now. I feigned myself sick for some fifteen days, never came out of the dungeon, nor rose from my bed.  
At the fifteen days end, having provided myself of woman's apparel, and having shaved my Beard clean away with a Razor, putting on those 
Guzman seeks to break prison.  clothes, casting a Mantle over them, and painting my face, daubing it first with white, and then giving it a little tincture of Red; now when night was in, I passed thorough the two upper doors, that belonged to the Galleries, and neither of those Porters said a word, but let me pass quietly, yet were they both of them quicksighted enough, and had their eyes clear and sound.  
But when I came down to the door that opens to the street, and was ready to put my foot over the threshold, a blinke-ey'de Porter, that had but one 
Guzman prevented of his purpose.  eye, (would to God he had been blind on the other) claps his arm athwart the Postern, kept me back, looked upon me, and presently knew me: Whereupon, he shuts to the door. I had provided myself of a good short arming sword, one, that if need had been, would have done the deed, which I carried closely about me, if I should chance to be put to my shifts, and have occasion to use it. But as ill luck would have it, I bore it about me at such a time, when as it could do me no good, nor stand me in any stead in the world. This was such an aggravation of my fault, that my accusation was now made criminal.  
Well, they turned me up stairs, and fulminating a new Process against me, 
Guzman condemned during life to the Galleys.  they condemned me to the Galleys, during life. And it was no small courtesy, that they did me, that they did not make me ride in those clothes up and down the City, as they had heretofore done the like disgrace unto others. I thought to have avoided danger, and fell upon my death.   

CHAPTER VIII.  
Guzman de Alfarache is taken out of the Prison of seville, to be carried to the Port, to be put into the Galleys. He recounteth that which befell him on the way; as likewise in the Galleys.  
I Am a Galleyslave, and am now come to the end, for which I was ordained, whereunto my lewd courses were the means to bring me. I must now lead that life, as the rest of my fellows do, who endure the like fortune. I must pull at a Rope, tug at an Oar, and content myself with such poor fare, as others of my wretched condition are allowed. I was one of the Band of the Braggarts; de los, de Dios, es Christo; one of that company, who confess Christ to be God, and have no other Cognizance of their Faith; for their works march under the Colours, and conduct of the Devil. I put on my white linen breeches, my coloured Stockings, my cut Doublet, and my Holland Nightcap; all which my kind and loving Mulata had sent me; living in hope, that in time the Dice would turn, and that she might one day see me again at liberty. What with the help that I had from her, and what with those my fees, that I recovered (as due unto me) from those new Prisoners that came in, I led a fine gentle life, as also the life of a Gentile; for such is the quality of such as I am, when they are admitted into such a famous school as that is, where such a deal of Roguery is professed.  
I had now got some oil to my Lamp, some money in my purse, partly out of other men's devotions, and partly out of mine own endeavours; I did lend upon pawns, of every single Royal I made daily a 
a Eight Quartos make a Royal: so that he made a halfpenny and better, of every six pence.  Quart profit; I did such from those that were fresh men, and newly come in amongst us; not one of them that scap't my fingers, all that came under my hands paid sound for it. When they were asleep, I would play the wag with them, putting the snuff of a Candle on the top of their shoe, and holding matches of brimstone under their noses, or rolling a Card, let the smoke run up into their nostrils, till it were ready to choke them; and a thousand other the like knavish tricks. For albeit God is there known, yet is he not feared. They have 
The wicked condition of the Galleyslaves.  no more respect unto him, then if they were so many Pagans. And for the most part, those that come to the like misery, are Ruffians, and Highway robbers, a brutish and beastly kind of people. And it must be either a great wonder, or misfortune, that such a one as I should come thither; and when it so falleth out, the reason of it is, because God blindeth their understanding, to the end, that by leading them this way, he may bring them to the acknowledgement of their sin; and that they may in time come to a clearer knowledge of him, learn to serve him, and so be saved.  
There was a Ruffian, a notable shaver (in my time whilst I was there) who being condemned to death, and put into the enfermiria, or that quarter, 
A Tale of a Ruffian.  where the sick are cured; whence he was to be taken forth the next day to be executed, seeing some of those that had the guarding of him, playing at three-hand Primera, he rose from his bank, he made to them as well as he could, crawling along, with his two pair of fetters, and a great chain; and they ask him, whither he would? He told them; I come hither, to pass away the time a while.  
The Guards that had the charge of him, told him, that it was fitter that he should betake himself to his prayers, and recommend himself and his Soul unto God. whereunto, he answered, I have prayed already all that I can pray; I have not one prayer more left me. I have no more to do, than what I have done already; and therefore shufflle, and deal about, and fill out some Wine, and let the cup walk; that we may wash away sorrow, and rid away that care, which is ready to choke my heart. They replied, it was very late, and that the Tavern door was shut, and there was no getting in. Go tell then (said he) the fellow that keeps it, that it is for me, and that's enough; I warrant you, he will not deny me. And therefore no more words, my Masters, but play on, and follow your sport; for I swear unto you, that I know not what will become of this business, nor what the issue thereof will be.  
They dance all to this Tune. Others there are, that will have their Head and Beard neatly trimmed, that they may seem the handsomer when they come to the Gallows, and be said to be proper men, and well-favoured; and will likewise take order to have a fine clean starcht-Ruffe, daintily and curiously set; it seeming perhaps unto them, that the wearing of that, and the bearing their Bigotes high, turned up with hot irons, and stiffened with gums, should be their salvation, and bring them to heaven. And as in good Philosophy, men's complexions follow generally the goodness, or badness of their meats; so may it likewise of the good or bad company that we keep. Whence grew that Proverb: No 
a Prou. No con quien naces, si no con quien paces.  con quien naces, si no con quien paces. We must not judge of men by their birth, but by their breeding. It is their conversation, that must give them their denomination.  
Now I was one of these, and like a barbarous and ill-bred fellow, would fain employ that little money which I had, in renting one of those (a) Bodegones belonging to the Prison; but fearing a day, that they would on the sudden 
(b) Bodegon is a poor vittailing house.  strike up an Alarm, and so I might chance to lose all, I did not do it; and I think I did well in it. For now that we began to make a number of some six and twenty Galleyslaves, & were grown so unruly in the Prison, that there was no ho with us; the Keeper was half afraid, that we would make some hole or other in the Meshe, and find a time to get out of the net; and therefore laboured all that he could to be discharged of us.  
One Monday morning we were called up, and giving every one of us a Testimonial of his Sentence, we were all chained one to another: And 
Guzman and the rest of the Galleyslaves delivered over to the Commissary.  being thus threaded as it were upon four chains, we were delivered over to the Commissary, who was to convey us by little journeys to the Port, fair and softly, foot after foot, and as we could hale our haltred legs after us; our pace, like our irons, being very heavy.  
In this manner went we out of seville, to the great grief and sorrow of our Parents and Kinsfolk, and other our good friends, who went tearing their hair, as we passed along the streets, and scratching their faces with their nails, every one according to the love and respect which she bore unto her friend. And they on the other side, pulling their Hats over their eyes, went along like so many meek and gentle Lambs, and not with that Lion-like look, and haughty carriage, as they were wont heretofore; it was not any braving now, or outfacing of the matter, that could do them good. Arrogancy was out of request with them, and would not serve the turn. I cannot deny, but it did touch me for my part to the very quick, it went to the heart of me: especially, when I called to mind the merry life that I had led, the good state wherein I had lived; if I had had but the grace to keep myself well, while I was well; and to see the misery, whereunto now I was come.  
Then did I begin to think with myself; If this be so painful unto me already; if this chain do so much torment me, that I can scarce endure it; if I feel such trouble now, and if this befall me while the wood is green, what will it do, when it grows old and dry? What torment will they feel that are condemned for ever to perpetual pain? Musing upon these things, I passed along thorough the streets of seville, for my Mother did not come to accompany me, nor was she willing to see me. And I was the only man amongst them all, that was Solus cum solo, left alone to myself.  
We walked along very leisurely, which (God wot) was slowly enough, yet as fast as we could conveniently; for when my chain was slack, and I was offering to go forward, my next fellow would oftentimes pull me back, which he could not sometimes do withal, and sometimes again would stop of set purpose, as his necessary occasions did require. Another, he was foundered with going barefoot, and all the rest ready to sink, they were so weary. We were men sensible of pain, as other men are, and being in that case as we were, none had more cause to sorrow than we; yet amongst ourselves our griefs were so equal, that we had but little advantage one of another.  
O the wretched and miserable state that we live in, and to how many various and unfortunate chances are we necessarily obliged! We came to a place called Las Cabeças; and as we went on a morning from thence, we had scarce gone half a League, but that one of our company had espied a far off, a certain young fellow, who was going towards seville, with a great many fine little young Pigs, and giving the word one from another, we did presently battell-wise cast ourselves into a Wing, as if we had been the Turkish Galleys; and marshalling ourselves after the manner of a half Moon, we did in such an orderly fashion set upon them, that the points of the Horn's meeting as it were before, and in a kind of circle-wise inclining each to other, we had shut in the Pigs on a sudden, and encompassed them so, 
The Galleyslaves rob a poor fellow of his Pigs, that he was carrying to Market.  that they could not get out from amongst us, and in spite of the young fellows teeth, do what he could for his life, every one of us made purchase of a fat Pig.  
The fellow began to cry out aloud, making great exclamations, and entreating the Commissary, that for God's sake, he would take order that he might have them again. But he seemed to be deaf, and would not hear of that ear, as one that was to have the greatest share in this booty; and so we passed on along with our prey, leaving the poor Clown to go seek his remedy elsewhere. We knew the worst of it already, so that our care, and our pity were much about one.  
About noon, when we came to our Inn where we were to rest ourselves, and with a little sleep to pass over the heat of the day, the Commissary called to us for the share that he was to have of this our theft: for, being that he was consenting thereunto, the Accessory was to have as much as the Principal; the Assentant, as the Assailant. He commanded one of them to be roasted for him; whereupon there arose a great stir and tumult amongst us, being ready to go together by the ears, whilst we were arguing the Case, which of us was to part with his Pig. For amongst us 
The Slaves matin about their Pigs.  all, there were scarce three of us that had the use of reason.  
When I saw the Mutiny, that was amongst them, and that in the carriage of this business, he might (and that justly) blame me the more, because my understanding 
Guzman offers his to the Commissary.  was more than theirs: I said unto him; Master Commissary, my Pig is here ready at your service, dispose of it as you please: And if you shall so think it fit, seeing here is Guard sufficient upon us, may it please you to command them to unchaine me, and I will take the pains to dress it for you with mine own hands: for I have some relics yet remaining of a good Cook. He thankfully accepted of this my civil Compliment, and said unto me; Of all this company, that is here under my charge, I must truly confess unto thee, I have, since my first knowledge of thee, observed in thee a certain kind of nobleness, and free nature, which cannot but proceed from some good blood. I therefore thank you for this your present, and take it kindly at your hands, and shall be very glad to eat it, as you shall order it for me. I was taken from the chain; & being recommended to the Guards, 
He dresses it for him.  I called for such things as were necessary: but because the Inn was ill provided of such things as I would have had, to show my Cookery, I could show my skill no farther, then in the well roasting of it, with a few eggs battered together, and seasoned with a little pepper, & salt: I would have made a pudding in its belly, but I wanted necessaries. I minced the liver, & of that, and such other things as I could for the present, I made him sauce to his Pig, which I knew well how to do.  
At the same time some Travaylours came in, to take their ease, who were not a little sorry to find us there: for that they were half afraid that their ears were scarce sure on their heads amongst such a company of Rogues as we were. The Table whereat they were to sit, wàs a long plank, near adjoining to a bench of stone: they were to eat altogether. The Commissary kindly saluted them, and they him; and after a few Compliments were exchanged between them, they sat three in a file, and one of them taking his Portmanteaux unto him, and putting it between his legs, under the board, he there likewise laid his Alforjas, or wallet, wherein he had Cheese, a Bottle of Wine, and a piece of a Gammon of Bacon; and that he might the better take it out, he did thrust his Portmanteaux a little forward, leaving the Alforjas in the midst between his legs. ay, when I saw that he was so wary, began to suspect, that it was not without cause, and calling to the Hostess for a Knife, I closely clapped it in between my arm, and my sleeve: And putting a great earthen jar full of water, underneath the board, and in it, a Bottle of Wine; that the Commissary might have it fresh and cool, when he should call for it; as oft as I stooped down to pour out his wine, by little & little, I fell to fingering of the Portmanteaux, till at last, having made a shift to undo all the Buttons, and giving it a gentle slash close where the Chain ran along, that made all fast, I nimbly took out two little bundles, but somewhat 
Guzman filches two Farthels out of a Travailours Portmanteaux: And the manner how.  weighty withal, which I presently conveyed very handsomely into my Gally-sloppes, where there was Sea-room enough for them; and afterwards buttoning it up just in the same fashion as it was before, it was close and well, and not any sign to be seen of this theft that I had made.  
When they had made an end of their dinner, the Cloth was taken away, and having paid their reckoning, away went these Travailours; and we likewise began to provide to be packing: for we also were to be gone. Soto, my Comrade, was fastened to another Chain, somewhat farther off from me, 
Soto Guzmás Companion a notable Thief.  than I could have wished it, which did not a little grieve me, because this distance did hinder our more private talk; but before they brought me back again to my Chain, I came unto him, and secretly delivered unto him those two bundles, desiring him to keep them safe for me, till we should meet with some better occasion, to know what was in them. He received them with a great deal of joy, and killing his Pig unknown to any, he thrust them both into the body of it, placing the intralls before the mouth of the wound, as well, that the bundles might not drop out, as also to hide them 
Soto his cunning in the cleanly conveyance of this theft.  thereby the better out of sight.  
Now when they were going to put me to the Chain, I entreated the Cómissary to do me the favour, that I might be filled next to this my old friend and acquaintance. He willingly granted my request; so one was taken out of that file, and he and I were ranked together, that other and myself exchanging places.  
We went lazily on along, as the fashion is, & as we were pacing these our leisurely steps, I rounded Soto softly in the ear, and said unto him; How now (my Camarade) what hast thou done with that which I gave thee to keep? How hast thou disposed of it? But he, as if he had not known me, or had not given him any such thing at all, made so strange of it, that he made me to suspect, that according to the custom of that Country, he had drunk a cup too much, and so might happily have forgot it. Where-upon, I went putting him in mind, when and where I gave it him. But he still denied any such delivery. And in the end grew somewhat hot and angry with me, ask me, whether I were drunk, or well in my wits, that I should demand any such thing of him, or make him believe, that I had delivered him either this, or that? I understand you not, I neither know you, nor it, nor have anything of yours, and therefore all that I can say unto you, is; That for me you must go look it. Nothing I had of you, and nothing are you like to get from me.  
You cannot imagine, nor am I able to express the great both anger, and sorrow that I had, that I should be so unthankfully dealt withal, and receive such hard measure from one, to whom I had done so many good offices, and loved so truly, as I did him. For, there was not that morsel of meat, that went down my throat, whereof he had not his share; nor that money in my purse, whereof I did not divide half with him. And my purpose was, that he should likewise share with me in this. But that he should thus break the 
Soto becomes an enemy to Guzman.  bonds of friendship, and deny, (and that so insolently, and impudently) that I had ever given him any such thing; this was it that troubled me; this was it that vexed me to the very heart.  
He was a man of an ill condition, his concoction was not good, and he was so moved upon these words of mine, and so out of all patience, that in a thundering voice he began to bolt out oaths and blasphemies, insomuch that the Commissary was enforced to correct him with a Cudgel. ay, relying on the favour he had shown me, entreated him to bear with him, because he was angry, and in choler, which was the cause of this his intemperancy. And he being desirous to know the cause of this his distemperature; I began to apprehend with myself, that Soto would reserve all this for him; and I made this reckoning with myself; If I shall acquaint the Commissary with 
How Guzman cries quittance with Soto.  that which had passed between us, it may be, that though I should not have all, yet at least, some part of the booty might fall to my share.  
This thief (thought I) shall not carry it away so; he shall not have all the thanks, and laugh at me when he has done. I will not be thus gulled by him. And therefore I resolved with myself, to acquaint him with the whole success of the business, who, I presumed, would not be a little glad of it, out of the greedy and covetous desire that he would have to take that bone from us, which we two strove for.  
Hereupon (being informed by me) he commanded Soto, that he should presently give him that which I had given him. He stoutly denies, that he had any thing of me. The guards are willed to search him; they do so; and when they had done the utmost of their diligence, they could find no such thing about him, nor any the least sign or token thereof. Where-upon I gathered, that he had done as I did, delivering the same over to some other body, to keep it safe for him.  
I told the Commissary, that there was no question to be made of it, but that he had secretly conveyed it away to some one or other of this our company, for that really and truly he received it of me, who gave the same unto him with mine own hands. When he saw, that neither by fair means, nor by foul, by persuasions, nor threatenings, nor any other course that he took with him, he could be brought to manifest the truth, and to bring these things to light; the Commissary commanded they should take him aside, and put him to the Rack, till they should make him to confess. And for that they had no other instruments there, save Cords, they applied them to those his lower parts; and when upon their twisting, they began to strain somewhat hard upon the flesh, which was too delicate and sensible to endure any torture, being likewise a faint-hearted fellow, and of little or no courage, he forthwith confessed, whither he had conveyed them. Thereupon, they presently took his Pig from him, (so that he lost that too by the bargain) and taking out the intrals to see what was there, they quickly lighted on the two little bundles, in either of which was a Rosario, or set of Beads of the perfectest, and the daintiest pure Coral, that ever mine eyes saw; every Bead at both ends, having his Cap of Gold, which was much graced by the neat cutting and inameling that was bestowed upon them, which (it should seem) were sent as tokens to two several persons.  
The Commissary makes no more ado, but presently claps them up in his pocket, promising to befriend me for it, and to give me, what I myself should ask for them. Soto was herewith so madded, and so extremely incensed against me, that they were forced to change our chains, and set us farther asunder than before; for though we were thus divided, and parted each from other, they did afterwards fall to manacling of him, fastening both his wrists together with bolts of iron, because when he came where any stones were, he would take them up, and throw them at me.  
In this troublesome manner we came at last unto the Galleys, just upon the very nick, when they were calking, and rigging, and making all ready to put forth to Sea, and to go in chase. And before they brought us aboard, they carried us to a Prison, where we passed over that night, with the like in commodity and trouble, as at other times. Nay rather, it was worse with us now, then heretofore, for that the Prison was little, and crammed as full as ever it could hold. But be it better, or be it worse, such as it was, we were forced to take all in good part, and to make as good shift as we could. For we could not do as we would, nor make choice of 〈◊〉 place to our liking.  
The Commissary had talked in the mean while with the King's Officers; who came with those other of the Galleys, and the Kings Alguazil; and having now assigned and appointed us our Banks, where we were to sit and row, they gave the Commissary a discharge for the delivering so many Slaves into their hands, who told me, that he would come and see me; and that he would stand my very good friend; so he betook him to his Mule, and from that day forward, I did never more set eye on him.  
Now, before that they took us out of Prison, to lead us along to the Galleys, they had ordered how we should be divided, and it fell out, that we were to go six and six in a file; in which division, it was my ill luck (thanks to my sins, that laid this punishment upon me) to have Soto to be my Comrade.  
This done, they presently delivered us over to certain Moorish Slaves, who with their half Pikes came to guard us along, and tying our hands with tough thongs, which they had brought with them for that purpose, away we go with them. We come aboard the Galley, where-into being entered, we were willed to retire ourselves to the poop, till that the Captain and the Masters-Mate should come, and call us out one by one, placing every man in this, or that other Bank, as they thought fit; now, when they were come amongst us, they went walking up and down on the Curtsy, or the Gallerie-like space, on both sides whereof, the Slaves Banks are placed: and whilst they were looking on the banks, and advising with themselves where it were fittest to dispose of us; the other Galleyslaves began to set out their throats, and to cry out aloud unto them, desiring that they would disperse us amongst them; some complaining that they had an unprofitable member amongst them; others, that all in their Bank were weak and feeble persons, unable to do any service.  
But the Captain●…, and the Masters-Mate, not giving ear to their clamours, but governing themselves by their own discretion, having considered what was fittest to be done, placed us here and there, as they saw cause: in which partition it fell to my lot, to be ranked in the second Bank, just before the Cooke-roome, near unto the Masters-Mates Cabin, at the foot of the Mast; having placed, Soto in the Patron, or Master's Bank. It grieved me very much, that he was seated so near unto me, in regard of the late quarrel that had been between us; for we could never afterwards endure one another; and he, me less, than I could him; for he was a malicious minded man, & had entertained in his heart a deep hatred against me; though I (for my part) never did deny him my friendship, nor was ever wanting unto him, whensoever he had occasion to use me: but he, like the Commissary, would have all to himself, if I should have let him alone. And all he should have had, and that with a very good will, if I had but once thought, that he would have cried quits with me, and paid me home in mine own coin. When they had brought me to the Bank, those that were there, bade me welcome; in requital whereof, I could have wished, that I had been able to say unto them; Excuse me, that I cannot come.  
They installed me in my seat, and put on the King's Robes upon me, two 
What Guzman endured in the Galleys.  Shirts, two pair of linen Breeches, a coloured Waistcoat, and a red Cap. I was scarce warm in my seat, when a base under-barber comes unto me, a better Shaver, than a Cutter, and with his Razor, makes my head and Beard: as bare as my hand, which I took to heart, for the great account I made thereof. But re-collecting my spirits, I began to comfort myself, that this was the fortune of the world, and that others, that had been in far higher place, had fall'n into far greater miseries.  
I removed my eyes from those that were before me, and looked towards those that were behind me: not considering so much with myself how many were more happy, but how many were more wretched than I was. O this looking downward is a comfortable thing to a man in misery. And albeit, it be true, that there is not any life almost so miserable, as that of a Galleyslave, yet was it not half so bad as that which I endured with my first Wife. And it was some comfort besides unto me, that I was not a lone man in this my afflictions, but had many fellows that suffered the like torment.  
A young fellow that belonged to the Alguazil, made presently towards me, to clap fetters on my feet, and manacles on my hands, chaining me, and other my companions, that sat together on the same Bank, so fast, and so sure, that we could not stir from thence. Then did they give me my allowance, which was six and twenty ounces of Biscuit; it so fell out, that that day was (as we call it) dia de Caldero, the Cauldron day, for the boiling of flesh, and making of pottage: And because I was but a new-comer, and was unprovided of a wooden dish, I took my part of those mammocks that were shared amongst us, with one of my fellows that sat by me. I would not offer to soak my Biscuit in it, but chewed it down dry, as all your freshmen do at the first, till time had taught me the use of my arms.  
The pain we were put to for the present was little or nothing; for the Galleys being then a trimming, and a calking, we that were the ghing, the base rout, and rascality of the Galleys, served as then for no other use, but to row towards the shore, when we were so commanded, and to make provision of boughs, or something else for shade, lest the hear of the Sun should melt the tallow. All the clothes that I brought aboard with me into the Galley, I made show of them, and sold them; which yielded me some money, though not much, adding that, to that other little sum, which I brought with me, when I came out of Prison. Nor did I know in the world, how, or where I might secretly lay it up, and keep it safe, either to relieve me in such necessities as usually offer themselves, or to employ it in some one thing or other, that I might have a penny in my purse at a pinch. And for that I had neither Coffer, Chest, nor so much as a Desk, that had a Lock and Key to it, where I might safely lay it up, it did somewhat trouble me, not being able to devose with myself, what I were best to do with it. To carry it still about me, were to run the hazard of being robbed, or cozened of it by my own Comrades: And to commit it to another bodies keeping, I had already too late experience of the ill correspondence in that kind.  
All I saw, was ill, it concerned me to look well unto it, and to bethink myself, how I should dispose of it. At last (after long consideration) I resolved with myself, that I could not give it a better or more secret place, then to clap it in my bosom, and to lay it as near to my heart as I could possibly bring it. Others put their hearts there, where they put their treasure: but I took a clean contrary course, putting my treasure where my heart was.  
Well, I got me a needle and thread, and clapping my Thimble on my finger, I fell to work, and made me up a little Purse, about the bigness of a Wax-kernell, which being strongly sowed, and quilted with many a sure stitch upon that part of my shirt, which touched upon my heart, I bore it there, never suffering it to be out of my sight; and having still an eye upon it, that it might be the safer from its friends, and my enemies, who would be ever and anon leering that way, casting a sheep's eye towards it; but he, whose mouth watered most at it, and had a month's mind to be doing with it, was a notable famous Thief, that was my Comrade, and sat next unto me, who could never come to filch it from me, neither at midnight, nor at at any other time, so surely did I guard it on that side. Yet was he not wanting to do his best; for, when he perceived that I was asleep, he would go groping here and there, visiting every part about me with his hand; and for that the rooms were but few, and the householdstuff that belonged unto them, not much, they were easily and quickly run over. He had passed over in a trice, a little Satchel that I had by my side, my Gabardine, and my Breeches, and was come now at last to my Waistcoat, which I might more properly have termed my Soul: for that with its warmth, it did vivify, and quicken the blood, whereby it sustained itself, and was kept alive. We both laboured hard, he to rob, I to keep. He was not so crafty, but I was as careful. And if at any time I did strip myself naked, I would order the business so, that it should be impossible for him to take it from under me, unless he took me away with it. He continued a long time in this his care to come by it, watching all opportunities to rob me of it.  
Now, in the mean while, forasmuch as I did consider with myself, that wheresoever a man lives, he had need of an Angel of guard to attend him upon all occasions; I began to bethink myself whom I should make choice of to be my Protector. And after that I had thoroughly thought there-upon, I could not find out any fitter for my turn, than the Masters-Mate. For albeit it be true, that the Captain, as Lord, and chief Commander of all the rest, is to be accounted the only Protector of us all; yet, out of his authority and greatness of his Place, he will not trouble himself with this rascal rabble.  
They are for the most part principal persons, and men of quality; they will not vouchsafe to look so low; they reckon not of such poor snakes as we be, nor take any notice who, or what we are. And I was the willinger to make this choice, for that the Masters-Mate was my near neighbour, his cabin was close by my Bank, by means whereof, I might the easier and more conveniently serve him. And so much the rather was I desirous to settle upon him, because he carried the Cudgel, and had the possession of the salt Eel, which he distributed amongst us, either more or less, according as he favoured, or dis-fauoured; paying some sound, and letting others go scot-free.  
Thus by little and little, I went serving myself into his service, getting more ground still upon him, and striving to outstrip the rest: As well in my attendance at his board, as in having him to bed; I tricked up his cabin, brushed his clothes, kept them neat and handsome, looked to his linen, and was in every other respect so diligent about him, that within a few days I was the only man in his eye. Nor did I account it as a small favour, that he would deign me a good look: It seeming unto me, as oft as he looked upon me, that he had bestowed a Bull (I mean not the Pizzle) upon me, and a free Indulgence from stripes, and that he did thereby absolve me both à culpa, & poena: From my fault, and the punishment thereof. But therein I was deceived; for that they being naturally severe and cruel, and that commonly such kind of stern and austere men are put into such places, they never have an eye to consider courtesies, not seeking to requite good, but to punish ill.  
They are a people, that will not acknowledge any thankfulness, because all that we do for them, they think to be due unto them. A nights I did rid the Dandruff out of his head, rubbed his feet, fanned his face, destroyed the Gnats, and waited on him with that observance and punctuality, that the greatest Prince in the world could not be better served. And if they serve their Prince for love, I did the like to the Masters-Mate for fear; lest the Hoop of a Hogshead, or an Eels tail should twine itself about my shoulders, which kind of weapons they never go without. And howbeit it be true, that this manner of service is not so perfect, nor so noble as the other; yet fear makes men to take more heed. And now and then when I saw he was waking, and had no mind to sleep, I would entertain him with a merry Fable, or pleasant History, to pass away the time the better. And I was never unprovided of a company of witty jests, and fine conceits, to make his Worship laugh: It being no small comfort to me, to see him look cheerfully. I grew in grace with him, and was very happy in this particular; yet am I so much privieto mine own worth, that it was no more than my good service did deserve. So that now, he would not that any other, save myself, should serve him in those things, which gave him the greatest content. And I had more especial reason to esteem of this his favour towards me, in regard that he had a Galleyslave, before he entertained me, that attended on his Person. Whom, though he used well, yet he went daily pining and consuming away, that he was very sorry to see it. For, though he led a better life than the rest, and that he loved him so well, that he fed him from his own trencher, and bestowed the best morsels upon him; yet was he like your Gaeta-colts, which the better you feed them, the worse they prove.  
One day, when we were both together with him, waiting at the table, he said unto me; I prithee (Guzman) tell met (for thou art a Scholar, and an understanding fellow) what should be the reason, that Fermen being, at his first coming into the Galleys, of a very able body, strong, fat, and lusty, and I having sought to continue him still in the same state, by entertaining him into my service, and doing other friendly Offices for him, not eating that good morsel, whereof he hath not a part, should, the more I make of him, fall (as thou seest) the more away? Whereunto I made answer; Sir, for to give resolution to this your question, it will be needful for me to relate unto you another case, like unto this, of a new Christian, who had passed thorough the hands of the Holy-House, or (as we commonly call it) the Inquisition. 
A short tale of a new Christian that had one of the Inquisition to to his neighbour.   
This man was rich, and powerful, lived honourably, and in a plentiful fashion, led a merry life, waxed plump, and fat, had all things neat and handsome about him, and took much content in the house wherein he dwelled. Now it so fell out, that one of the Inquisitors came and took a house, that was the very next door to his; who, for no other reason in the world, save only that he wasso near a neighbour unto him, grew so meager, and so lean thereupon, that within a very short time, he was brought so low, and pined so fast away, that he was nothing but skin and bone. So that to both these, I shall give Solution, by another the like accident, which I shall deliver for truth unto you, and thus it was:  
Muley Almançor (who was King of Granada) had a great Privado, or 
A Story of the King of Granada, and his Favourite Buferiz.  principal favourite of his, who was called el Alcayde Buferiz; a very wise man, punctual, trusty, and having many other good parts, worthy the great love that his Lord and Master bore unto him; for the which his King loved him so dear, as also for the trust and confidence that he had in him; (for there was not any difficulty in the world, which he would not wade thorough, so as it might make for his Majesty's service) And for that those, that deserve these kind of honours, are evermore envied by those that are unworthy of them, there were not some wanting, who, hearing the King speak of his love and affection towards this his Favourite, said unto him; Sir, that your Majesty may see, whether that be true or no, for which you so much commend your Alcayde; would you be pleased to make proof of him in some business of importance, and where in there is some difficulty; and then shall you find, whether he be that manner of man, that you take him to be: For by the diligence that he shall use therein, your Majesty shall truly know, whether his heart be with you or no. The King liked exceeding well of this motion, and said; I will not only command him in a business that is difficult, but such a one, as is impossible to be effected. And causing him forthwith to be called in, he said unto him; Alcayde, I have a thing to give you in charge, which you must accomplish out of hand, upon pain of my displeasure, and the loss of my favour; And this it is; I shall deliver over unto you, a good fat Weather, which you shall keep at home in your own house, you shall give the same allowance of meat, as he was wont to have heretofore, and more, if more he will eat; and within a Month, you must return him back unto me, poor, and lean as a rake.  
This poor Moor, whose desire was never other, then to serve his King, & punctually to perform whatsoever he should be pleased to command him; how beit he did believe, that he should never be able to bring such an impossibility as this, to pass; was not therewith dismayed a whit, but readily, and with a cheerful countenance receiving the Weather, he caused it to be craryed home to his house, according as the King had commanded: And there sitting down, and devising with himself, how he might bring this business about, and give satisfaction to his Master's desire; he began to set his wits a-work, and at last lighted upon a strange, yet a natural conceit, which, he presumed, would make much for his purpose, and comply with the King's command.  
He caused two wooden Cages to be made out of hand, both strongly barred, and of equal bigness, the which, he gave order should be placed very near each to other; in one of the which he puts me the Weather, and in the other hard by him, a Wolf: To the Weather, he gave his full allowance; but the Wolf, he kept so short, that he was still exceeding hungry; And being almost famished for want of meat, he did labour all that he could (thrusting his legs within the grates) to reach at the Weather, and to try if he could come at him, and eat him. The fearful Weather, being much troubled, and sorry at the heart, to see himself so near his mortal enemy, although he did eat that which they gave him, he did thrive so ill with it, out of the continual fear that he was in, that he did not only not wax fat, but pined away, till he was pure skin and bone. By this course that he had taken with him, he returned at the time appointed: the Weather back again to his King, not failing in that he was commauned, nor falling from his accustomed grace and favour.  
Now that I may apply this Story to the purpose we have in hand; It seemeth unto me, that Fermin is grown lean and feeble, by being so near about you, and by living in that grace and favour with you, as he doth: And it is only the fear which he hath of you, whom he so much desires to serve, that makes him to thrive no better than he does.  
The Masters-Mate was so well pleased with this Tale of mine, because it fell out so pat to the purpose, that he presently gave order to have me removed from my Bank, receiving me into his service, and giving me the charge of his Wardrobe, and of his Table, for that he had always found me suitable to his desires. Nor, (for all this favour that he showed unto me, which was very great in releasing me from the obligation of a Slave, and exercising such duties, as were required in the Galley) would I forbear (for mine own pleasure) to come sometimes amongst them, and to do as they did; but would now and then, of mine own accord, fall to my labour, that I might not be to seek, if out of necessity I should chance to be put unto it.  
There did I learn to knit Stockings, to make false Dice, as your High-men, 
The exercises of your Galleyslaves.  and your Low-men, setting two Aceses one against another, or two Six on one die, for your Coggers and Cheaters, who, for the use that they made of them, would pay well for them. I likewise there learned to make Buttons, both of Silk, and of hair; as also dainty delicate Toothpicks, of diverse sundry inventions, and colours, and neatly guilded; which none in the Galley could do besides myself. My poise being put into this balance; that is, standing upon these even terms, we were forced to go with our Galley to Cadiz, for Masts, and Main-yards, Sails, Pitch, Tar, Tallow, and the like necessaries; and this Voyage was the first, wherein I was put to any pains: For, being so much friended by the Masters-Mate, as I was, they did not force me to do any more work, than what I would myself.  
And for that this did not seem to me, to be a matter of any great labour, that I might not show myself an idle spectator, or that I did seek to avoid painstaking, especially, being that we were not to give the chase, or forced to betake ourselves to flight; where, and in which cases, we were to row for our lives, and to tug with all the strength and force that we had, at the Oar; And for that, when we were once in the Port, and had a good Haven to friend, we did usually lie quiet, and were never whipped, and had our entertainments, and pastimes, presuming that between Port, and Port, especially being so near, there needed not the sinews of an Ox, to hale and pull; I would needs set myself to the Oar, only to try what manner of thing it was: But it was not so slight and easy a thing, as I took it to be: for (because we were forced to go towing the Masts, and Main-yards) when we came to cast Anchor, I was nothing but weariness and sweat, because I would not leave my Oar, nor give occasion to others to murmur, by withdrawing my hand from that, which for mine own pleasure I had voluntarily undertaken. And this was the only, and sole cause, why so soon, and so sound, (after I had had my Master to bed) I fell asleep, falling like a stone, flat to the ground; giving very good signs and tokens thereof to my Comrades, who heard me now to do that, which they had never heard me do before; to wit, to snort like a young sucking Pig. That Traitor of mine own Bank, was the first (as being nearest unto me) that heard me rout; and calling softly to another of my fellows that was his Consort, one that was his very good friend, and whom he might best trust, acquainted him with his desire, and the good occasion that was now offered, to rob me of that little money that I had. They joined both together, as well in the manner of sharing it, as of taking it from me. Which they had gone clear 
Guzman robbed by the Galleyslaves.  away with, if I had not had the Alcalde to friend. They took it as easily from me, as they could wish; passing it presently from Bank to Bank, to the further end of the Galley; persuading themselves, that because it was night, and not perceived by any, both of them stiffly denying it, they should, without any more ado, carry away the prey, and divide the spoil between them.  
Now, when it was day, they all began to wake, and I amongst the rest, got up, heavy of sleep, but light of purse: for that weight which I was wont to feel lying upon my heart, I felt no more; and it did much trouble me, that it did not trouble me. I looked about, and found my money gone; I was struck as dead as a door-nail; death was in my face, and I knew not what to do. If I held my peace, I should hear no more news of it, but must give it for lost; and if I should speak thereof, I should roast all my part thereof (as the Proverb is) upon my finger, and put all in mine eye, that I should get by the bargain. Now was I put out of the possession of that which I had enjoyed so long; Whereupon I said with myself; If he that hath taken it from me, will give me no thanks for it, much less shall I reap any benefit from him; better it were notwithstanding, that he should keep it, that has it, for it may be, that at some time or other, he will not be wanting to make some acknowledgement thereof; and he at last may come to be punished, who did me this wrong: at least, he will eat his meat with sorrow, when he sees he shall reap no profit by it. But this Counsel did not please me.  
Now, when the Masters-Mate was ready to rise, I brought him his clothes and while he was making himself ready, I made himas long relation of my misfortune, making him (to my cost) to know, and to touch, as it were with the hand the misery of those men, who having pursed up a few pence with a great deal of labour and painstaking, earning it very hardly, are, either by mischance, or by a pilfering hand, deprived thereof in an instant: Telling him moreover, that I had brought those moneys from seville, amongst which, I had likewise put those other, which I had made of my clothes that I sold, when I came aboard the Galley, which I kept as charily as I could for my life, that I might therewith either relieve my necessities, when occasion should serve, or else employ it on some one thing or other, that might yield me profit. And as I was opening my mind thus unto him, I likewise opened my bosom, and showed him the false stuffing, wherein I had put it, the mould, or indented mark whereof, these thieves had left behind them, being for all the world, such a kind of print, as a Hare leaves in her Form, when she is newly gone out of it.  
It seemed to the Masters-Mate, that this that I told him, was an evident truth, and giving credit unto me, strengthened the more in his belief by this empty Form, where the Hare was used to sit, as also, out of the love that he bore unto me, he commanded the two fore-Bankes, and six other that were in the rear, to be had in Coramnobis; whereupon, the Alguazils servant, coming amongst them with a good Rope's end, (which your Seafaring men 
The manner of the bea●…ing of your Galleyslaves.  call a salt Eel) gave every one of them fifty sound blows apiece, which made the weals to bunch out upon their backs, leaving the skin clinging close unto them: Examining first every one by himself, whether he had seen or heard of this stolen money? And after they had been well lashed, they washed them with salt, and tart Vinegar, rubbing their wounds therewith, leaving their backs and sides so rend and torn, as if they had not been men.  
When this theft happened, there was by chance a Gipsy that was not then asleep, when my purse was stolen, and when his turn came to receive his payment, he confessed, that he had seen his Companion, the night before, rise from his own Bank, and to go to mine, but why, or wherefore he knew not.  
When that Slave perceived that he spoke of him, and that he had charged him in this manner, he started up on his feet, and said; That he was entangled in that chain, which belonged to the other Bank, and that he had sprained his foot thereby, it being wrung and wrenched by it, and that he was fain, (for to give himself ease) to clamber over thither, to disentangle himself. But because this reason was too weak to hold water, and carried not that fairness with it, as to be taken for a just excuse, and much less with those, who knew well enough on which foot he halted, they took him presently to task, and had many more stripes bestowed upon him then any of the rest. And the Masters-Mate was so angry with the Alguazils servant, because he did not lay them on so sound as ●…hee would have him, that he gave order, that he should presently have as many bestowed upon him; besides a great many more which he himself with his own hand laid upon him with the Hoop of a Hogshead. And in this his choleric humour, (for he was now mightily moved) he forthwith commanded, that they should take the delinquent in hand again, and baste him as long as they could stand over him; who (poor man) had more then enough before. But when he saw that he must go to this gear again, he then began to think with himself, that the Masters-Mate would never give him over, till he had confessed the truth, and therefore held it to be his best course, to deal plainly and truly with him, who had the money, by what means they came by it, and the plot that they had laid to get it from me, excusing himself the best that he could, as that he had no purpose of himself to do it, and that he had never entered into the business, had he not otherwise been drawn into it.  
Well, he was well lashed afterwards for his offence, and my money was 
Guzman recovers his lost money.  returned back unto me, which I received with a very goodwill from my Master's hand, advising me withal, that I should employ it, making profit thereof, for he should be well pleased with any thing that were for my good.  
My good fortune (like froth) began to increase more and more, in regard that I gave my Master such good content. And the Galleys being to go forth, which were to join with those of Naples, upon a certain employment at Sea, I got me ashore, having a Soldier of guard to be my keeper, and to look to my safe return, where I employed all that little money that I had, in matters of victuallage, which presently from my setting forth from thence would double the cost, and it succeeded well with me. Out of that gains, (with my Master's leave) I made me a suit after the fashion of an old Galleyslave, or one that had been of ancient standing amongst them, Hose and Waistcoat of black Buckram, listed and welted handsomely in the seams, which (it being then the Summer season) was cooler and fresher for me, and fitter for my turn.  
Now (thinking upon my former misfortunes) I began to have a glimpse of that light, which they enjoy, who follow Virtue, and protesting with a firm resolution, and settled constancy, rather to dye, then do a base action; I did only study, how I might serve my Master, how I might please his humour, and give him all content, how I might keep his clothes, his cabin, and his table clean and neat.  
And as I was thinking and considering on these things, I said one night 
Guzman discourses, and tells us, that it is only Virtue and Goodness, that brings a man to Heaven.  with myself; Guzman, thou seest here the top of that Mountain of miseries, whereunto thy filthy sensuality hath brought thee: now art thou come to the highest part of it, and must either make a speedy leap down to the bottomless pit of hell, or which thou mayst more easily do, by lifting up thy arms, take hold on Heaven. Thou seest now the care that thou hast to serve thy Master, for fear of a few stripes, which being given to day, are not felt to morrow. Thou dost watch late, rise up early, thou art diligent, careful, and solicitous in seeking out new Inventions, wherewith to delight him, and to purchase his favour, which when thou hast obtained, is but of a man, and a Masters-Mate. And this is the most thou canst make of him.  
Now thou well knowest, and canst not be ignorant of it, for thou hast been a professed Student, and hast studied that point; how much less God requires at thy hands, and how much more he hath to confer upon thee, and how far a greater friend he is, than any man can be unto thee.  
Rouse up thyself therefore, and awake from this heavy sleep, which oppresseth thy soul; Return home unto thyself; and consider, that though it be true, that thy sins have brought thee hither, yet so apply this thy punishment unto thee, and lay it so near to thy heart, that thou mayst make good use of it, and that it may turn to thy good. Thou hast sought after a stock to employ it for thy profit; seek now to obtain eternal happiness, and lay out all that thou hast, that thou mayst buy it. For it is a jewel of inestimable worth, it cannot be valued. These thy troubles, these thy miseries which thou indurest, this thy care which thou takest to serve this thy Master, put it all to God's account, and be as diligent in serving him. Charge him also with that, which thou art to lose hereafter, and he will bear the burden of that charge; he will lessen thine, and add it to his own account. With this thou mayst buy grace, which if here-tofore it bore no price with thee, (for even the best deservings of all the Saints that ever were, cannot raise such a stock, whereby to be able to buy it, till their merits meet with those of our Saviour Christ) now make much of it; and the rather seeing that Christ, that he may communicate this his grace unto us, is willingly become our brother.  
What brother did ever forsake a good and a loving brother? Serve him but with a sigh, with a tear, or with a true heart-sorrow, grieving for thy sins; and being angry and offended with thyself, that thou hast offended so good a brother: And so by giving him that which thou hast, he will join thy stock with his own, and making it of an infinite price, not by thine, but his merits, thou shalt enjoy life everlasting.  
In this discourse with myself, and in other, which rose out of this I spent a great part of the night, showering down tears in abundance, and 
Guzman's conversion.  waxing now heavy with the grief for my sins, I fell asleep; and when I awaked, I found myself another manner of man than I was before. I had cast off my old heart, and put on a new one in its place. I gave thanks unto God for this my regeneration, and that he had renewed his spirit aright in me, humbly beseeching him, that he would uphold me with his holy hand, and strengthen me with his grace.  
Presently upon this, I treated of the frequent Confession of my sins, and of the reformation of my life, and of the cleansing of my conscience; in which good deliberation, I continued many days; but I was flesh and blood. I did still stumble, almost at every step, and now and then took a fall. But for any proceeding in my accustomed evil actions, I was much amended, and went from that time forward reforming my former course of life. Howbeit, for that I had exercised myself so much in my forepassed ill deportments, I was still pointed at with the finger for a wicked man, which name I could never claw off, but did stick close unto me. For this is an evil, that follows evil men; that even those good actions which they do, leave a jealousy and suspicion behind them, and occasion, as it were, scandal to such as see them. For, though we do them never so well, & with an upright heart, yet are we held to be but Hypocrites. We have a common Proverb amongst us; Que se sacan por las Uisperas, los dias Santos: 
Proverb. S●… sacan por las Visperas, los dias santos.  That by the Vespers, we come to know the Feasts of the Saints. So they, by my precedent actions, would judge of the future.  
But to give the world leave to censure things as they list, let him that would fain know whether he stand in the state of grace or no, and live in God's love and favour, look, and consider with himself, how God worketh with him, and he shall easily come to know it. Use thy best endeavours; do that, which (as a good Christian) thou art bound to do: so shall thy works be acceptable in his sight, and thou shalt know (like Abel) that God is well pleased with this thy sacrifice, and that he hath set his eyes upon thee.  
Mark and observe, whether he uses thee no worse, than he uses himself; for this is a sure and infallible sign, that thy Lord loves thee, when of the same bread that he eateth; of the same clothes which he weareth; of the same table, where he takes his meals; of the same seat, whereon he sitteth; of the same Wine, whereof he drinketh; of the same bed, whereon he lieth; he makes no difference between thee and him, but is as it were all one. What did God enjoy? What did God love? What did God suffer? Troubles.  
Now then, when God shall share these with thee, he shows that he 
Troubles, the signs of God's love towards us.  loves thee. Thou art his Minion, he feasts thee, and makes much of thee; Be thou so wise as to receive these things thankfully, and to make profit of them. Nor do thou think, that God refuses to give thee thine own hearts desire, thy pleasures, thy contentments, riches, and large possessions, or what else may delight thee, for that he is close fisted, niggardly, or covetous; for if thou art willing to see the worth of these worldly comforts, turn but thine eye aside, and look upon those that possess them in greatest abundance. But who are these? Even Moors, Infidels, and Heretics. But God runs a contrary course with his friends, with those that are his elected, and best beloved children; the cherishments, and blandishments, that he bestows upon them, are poverty, afflictions, and persecutions. O had I but known so much heretofore, as I do now, and that God would have been pleased to have enlightened my understanding, that I might have truly seen, and looked into my former errors, I might have benefited myself in another kind of manner, than I did at that time.  
I am the willinger to deliver this unto you, for that when I made this Discourse with myself, I did do it truly, and with all my heart. And albeit I am not worthy to merit thereby any reward, (being so great a sinner as I am) yet notwithstanding, this little crumb, this poor drop, this small spark, had its reward at that very instant, that slender repentance of mine, that my resolution (though weak) to do good, and that good beginning which I had put myself into, was not without its payment.  
As soon as I had regained my moneys, new persecutions, and new troubles began to grow upon me. Would to God that I had been so considerate, as I ought to have been. He stripped me of that contentment, wherein I now lived; and he began to touch me to the quick, and to beat me with many stripes. That small shade of Iuy, (which like jonas Gourd, did keep me from the scorching of the Sun) was lost, and quite taken from me; it was dry'de up, and withered, there was a worm bred in the root of it, which had wasted and consumed it; so that I was forced to lie open to the heats, suffering new calamities, and new troubles, and such as I never thought on, without any cause given by me, or any the least sign of offence, having no way deserved such hard measure. But stay thy Pen, and ingeniously confess, that such miseries and afflictions as these, are that hidden treasure in the field, so highly commended unto us. And since thou hast patiently heard me hitherto, for thine own pleasure, hear me now another while for mine; and harken a little to the remainder of my misfortunes, whereunto I shall give an end, in the next ensuing Chapter.   

CHAPTER IX.  
Guzman de Alfarache prosecutes that which happened unto him in the Galleys: And by what means he came to be freed from thence.  
THere was a famous Painter, who was so excellent in his Art, that he had not his fellow in all the world. Upon 
A short Story of a Painter, with its application.  the fame and report of whose admirable pieces of work, there came a Gentleman to his house, and going into the room, where he drew his pictures, he agreed with him, that he should paint for him in a Table, a very fair and beautiful Horse, with rich furniture, and gracefully set forth, who being loose, should seem to run away as fast as his legs could carry him. The Painter performed this piece of work with all possible perfection, and showed therein the utmost of his skill. And having fully finished it, he placed it there where the colours might soon grow dry?  
Now, when the Gentleman came to see how this his work went forward, and to know how far he had proceeded therein, the Painter made haste to show it him, telling him he had already ended it. And for that, when he set forth this Table a drying, the Painter did not greatly care (as a thing that was nothing material) to set it after this, or that other manner, more one than another: So that the horse stood (as he had then placed the Table) with his feet upward, and his Saddle downward.  
The Gentleman, when he looked upon it, it seeming unto him not to be the same, which he had be-spoken, said unto him; Sir, the Horse that I wished you to make me, was to be drawn running away; and this rather seems to lie tumbling on the ground. The discreet Painter, mildly made answer; It seemeth, Sir, that you have no great insight in painting; the Picture is the same, that you pretend, if your Worship will be but pleased to turn the Table. Whereupon, that part that was downward, was turned upward; Which done, the Gentleman viewing it again, rested very well contented therewith, as well for the goodness of the workmanship, as that thereby he was taught to know his own error.  
If we consider the handy-workes of God, they will oftentimes seem unto us like this Horse, that lies tumbling and wallowing on the ground; but if we shall but turn this Table, wrought by the pencil of that supreme Artisan, that painted to the life both Heaven and earth, beautifying the one with Sun, Moon, and Stars; the other, with all variety of colours, in flowers, fruits, and the like; we shall find, that this is the piece that we would have, and that the work is done to its full perfection.  
Troubles (as I told you a little before) seem harsh and sharp unto us: we have not (no more than had this ignorant Gentleman) the true discerning of them aright; there are few that understand them as they should; but when he that sends them unto us, shows that mercy unto us, which is laid up in them, than we shall see them in their true shape and colours, and shall take great pleasure and delight in them.  
Amongst all the Slaves that were in the Galley, there was none of them like unto me, either in their good usage, or in the knowledge of giving such good content as I did, to my Master. But the pin in Fortune's wheel slipped out, & up came I in such a strange kind of manner, as the like was never seen.  
It happened at that time, that there came a Gentleman into our Galley, who bore our Captain's name, and was also of kin unto him, to learn experience, and to see some service. He was rich, well clad, better behaved, and ware about his neck a massy chain of gold, Soldierlike, being just such another for all the world, as I was used to have heretofore. He dieted in the Poop; he had a good garnish of Plate; and servants, that waited upon him, well and handsomely suited: But it so fell out, that the very next day after his embarking, there were eighteen links of his chain missing, which were no less worth, than fifty Crowns. Sure, some of his own servants must needs have them: for there were none, that came into the Poope-roome, but such as were known persons, and free from all suspicion: Yet notwithstanding, for the better clearing of this doubt, all the Captain's servants were put to the lash, yet for all that, was there no news to be heard of them, they could never hear of them more, nor get any the least inkling thereof in the world, nor is it known till this day who stole them, or what became of them.  
And for the better excusing hereafter of the like misfortune, the Captain came to his kinsman, and told him, that his best and surest course was, that for the time that he stayed there, he should commit the charge of his apparel, and jewels, to some trusty Galleyslave, who might take care of them and keep them neat and handsome; assuring him, that whatsoever he should deliver to any one of their custodies, they durst as well be hanged, as not give him a true account of it, and that there should not be so much as a hair missing, of any thing that he should trust them withal.  
This Gentleman liked very well of his counsel; and making afterwards inquiry, who in all the Galley might be the fittest man for him, and the most sufficient, I was the only man they made choice of, as being recommended unto them, for the good satisfaction that I would give him in my understanding, my diligency in attending his person, and for my cleanliness about myself, as also any thing that was my masters. When the Gentleman had heard of these my good qualities, and how I was likewise able to entertain him with witty jests, & merry conceits, he thought the time long, till he might see me in the Poop. So in all haste, they called the Masters-Mate unto them, and being entreated to part with me, he could not deny them their request, although it grieved him much, for the good service that he received from me; They clapped a long chain to my leg, which I trailed after me; and I was no sooner come unto him, but he was very glad to see me, and spoke very kindly unto me: and I think the rather, for that my feature, my face, and my actions, were answerable to that which he had heard of me. It did somewhat grieve him, to see me (like a Monkey) tied thus to a chain, and to draw it after me. He entreated the Captain, that he would favour me so far, that I might walk up and down with one only fetter; which was granted: By which means, I was enabled to do him the quicker and nimbler service, as well when he sat without at his meals, as when he was within his cabin, as also, in going to & fro in the Galley, when occasion was offered. I had an Inventory delivered unto me, of all his apparel and jewels; whereof, I still gave him a very good account; But that which he and I, had least affiance in, and were most jealous of, was, of his own servants: For now that I had the charge of his recamera, his Wardrobe, or whatsoever else was appertaining unto him, they might easily excuse themselves of such things, as they could steal cleanly from me. They cabbined with the Chaplain, near to the main Mast: and the Gentleman, he had his cabin within the Poop; and I, in alittle Dispense, or pantry, where I kept some regaloes, and dainties, besides other necessary provision.  
I liked very well of my service, though I took a great deal of pains, but it was a pleasure unto me, and gave me much content, that I had now the power, by those things that past thorough my hands, to perform many kindnesses toward such Slaves as were my friends and acquaintance: and albeit I was willing to have done the like towards Soto, my old Comrade, yet I could not get within him, nor come to fasten any kindness upon him; I wished his good as mine own, but he did all me the spite that he could, discrediting and disgracing me, telling some things truly of me, and inventing othersome, like unto those, at what time we were taken, and committed to prison, defaming me, as much as did lie in him, broaching whatsoever he knew of me, not leaving any one thing unripped up, for the manifesting of his malice, and my shame: so that, albeit I, for mine own part, were privy to myself, how much I was now reform; yet those that heard him thus exclaim against me, would make interpretation of them, as they stood affected, and comment upon them, as they themselves listed. And though God, at that instant, should have given me the power to have wrought Miracles, they would not have stiked to have said, that I had done them in Belzebub's name.  
Soto, was the knife, that sought to cut my throat; the point, or edge thereof, was still towards me: yet never did any man hear me speak so much as one foul word of him, or ever open my mouth against him, or make show of any the least choler, at this his abusing me: I made no reckoning of it, but let it pass as lightly as I could all my whole care being now taken up, in the- diligent attending of my new Master, and in doing him all faithful service, that I might procure his love and good liking towards me; hoping it might one day so fall out, that either by him, or by some other, in recompense of my good service, I might chance to purchase my liberty.  
When he came out of his cabin, I was still at hand to receive him; when he set his feet to come down the ladder, I lent him my hand, at his entering, and returning out of the Cockboat; I made him Toothpicks for his Table, putting them upon a plate, when he sat down to his meat; which, being many, & marvellous curious, he would often send for tokens to his friends. His Trencher-plates, and those his other vessels for the cooling of his wine, his Cups, and his Glasses, were so cleanly kept, so neat, and so in every point as they should be, that it was a pleasure to the eye to behold them. His bottles of Wine, and his jars of water, fresh and sweet; the wool of the Mattresses whereon he lay, kept unknotty, and soft; his whole bedding so well looked to, that there was not a Flea to be found in it, nor any the like troublesome vermin: for as my leisure would give me leave, it was my daily exercise, to go a hunting after them, stopping those holes and chinks, where there was any the least suspicion of their breeding, that my Master might not only be free from Fleas, and Chinches, but the bad sent which they have with them.  
So great was my diligence, and so pleasing the whole manner of my proceeding with him, that my Master had now left off conversing with his other servants, and would at large discourse with me of grave and weighty matters; but dealt therein with me as your Distillers use to do; he did Limbeck me, and squeeze what he could from me; and when he had exhausted from me that juice and substance, which was for his turn, and as much as he desired at that time to draw from me, he would pause awhile upon the matter, or to speak more plainly, was half jealous of me, that I was not so complete, and perfect as I should be, nor had not that true touch and relish, which properly appertaineth to your purer distillations. And all for the smack of one Herb, which was that evil report, which Soto had given of me. But his virulent tongue could not make me wrong Virtue: I went as fast on in doing well, as he did in speaking ill: as well, that my actions might give him the lie, as also for that I now minded no other thing, then to run on still in that good resolution, which I had proposed to myself.  
When I waited on him at Table, I would out now and then with a merry Tale, or some odd conceited jest or other. And a-nights, or at other such times as he was disposed to take a nap, I would chat one thing or other to him, that I might keep him still cheerful and merry. And the rather, for that of late he was grown somewhat melancholy, upon a Letter that he had received but a few days before from a grave personage, to whom he was much obliged, who all his life-time could never be drawn himself to marry, and was now wonderful instant with this Gentleman my Master that he would get him a Wife. Perceiving therefore how sad he was, I made bold to ask him the reason, why he was so pensive. He told it me; and did likewise ask my advice, what he were best to do in this case? I told him; methinks (Sir) that the fittest answer, which is to be given to such a one, who hath been so averse from marriage himself, and would now enforce others thereunto, at least seek to persuade them unto it, is, That you are well content to do so, if he will give you one of his daughters to Wife. My Master was well pleased with the counsel I gave him, resolving with himself to take that course which I had prescribed unto him. And continuing talk till it was dinner time, he willed me to tell him, being I had been twice married, how I liked that kind of life.  
I told him, Sir, a good and peaceable marriage, where love, and condition of the parties stand upon equal terms, it is a glory; it is an enjoying 
Touching Marriage.  both of earth and Heaven; it is a state for those, who make choice thereof, out of a desire to be saved thereby, of so great perfection, and of such exceeding both content, and comfort, that for to treat of such a subject, it will require the relation of such a tongue, as hath tasted the true happiness thereof. But for myself, who made Matrimony a matter of money, and more for pleasure, than propagation, as I did, I know not what to say unto it; I have deservedly paid the price of that sin, by this my present punishment, which I now endure.  
There are some women (I must confess) who by their wisdom, and discreet 
Worthy Wives, who are they?  carriage, have reduced to very good order and conformity, as perverse and wicked men, as any are in the world. And there are other some again, that will make the best tempered, and the holiest men alive, to lose all patience, 
Wicked wives, and which are they?  though he he able to suffer never so much. Look but upon Iob's wife, and see into what a desperate humour she would fain have put her Husband; how did she persecute him, and how much did it import him, to have recourse unto God, and only to defend himself more from her, then from all other his persecutions, and afflictions?  
And therefore three friends being together in conversation; the one said; 
Opinions of Marriage.  Happy is that Man that hath the good hap to match with a good Wife. But more happy (said the other) who buries her quickly, if she prove unto ward. And the third said; Most happy is he, that hath neither t'one nor tother. How much an importunate Wife and of an ill condition, doth torment and vex a man, let that Provenzall tell it you, who being quite wearied and tired 
A Tale teaching a man how to be vid of a bad Wife.  out with a shrewd Wife, and being unable any longer to endure her harsh behaviour, and not knowing in the world, how to correct these her malignant humours, that he might without scandal rid himself of her, he was resolved to go and make merry with his Wife and all his Family, at a house that he had in the Country, that was not far off, it lying in his way, to pass by the skirt of a Mountain, adjoining close upon Rodanus, a great and swift River; which in that very part of it, for that it was narrow, and past along between two Mountains, was very deep, and ran with a furious Currant. He took order that the Mule which his Wife was to ride on, had not for three days before, one drop of water given her; so that, when she came to the place aforesaid, and that she saw the water, there was no holding of her back, but hastening down the hanging of the Hill, from one ridge to another, she got to the River; from whence, it being impossible to turn her about, and to get up again against the steepiness of the Cliff, nor being able with all the force she had, to rein her in, they both rushed into the River, where the woman was drowned, & the Mule with much ado escaped; but came out so weak, and so weary, that she was scarce able to stand upon her legs.  
For those which never knew what marriage meant, and yet desire to be informed what manner of thing it is, I may for a pattern set before their eyes, that which passed with those Thrushes the Summer following that they were hatched, and ready to fly abroad and shift for themselves. There 
A Tale of certain Thrushes.  was a great Shoal of them gathered together, as if all the Thrushes in the world had joined in one muster, and were such a cloud of them, when they were upon their wings, that they seemed to darken the air, and by their interposition betwixt the Sun and the Earth, to make an Eclipse.  
And when all this jolly company were assembled, and met together, they raised their Camp, and marched away together, to seek out some better place to live in, (for that year, their own Country failed them of that plenty, which it was wont to afford them;) so at last they entered into a very goodly Country, that was full of Gardens and Orchards, and fresh Fields, where there were many pleasant Fruits, and other delicate feeding for them; where they were very willing to set up their rest, it seeming unto them, to be a place not only of much recreation and delight, but of sufficient sustenance and maintenance for them. But when the Inhabitants of that Country saw how they flocked together, they spread their nets, made gins, and pitfalls for them, and by little and little went taking and destroying of them.  
The poor Thrushes, seeing themselves thus persecuted, and that they could not safely feed there, nor rest in quiet, they sought out another place that might make better for their purpose, which they found as pleasant, and as plentiful as the former; but they tasted here of the same sauce, as they did there; which made them likewise to fly for fear from that danger which hung over their heads.  
Thus did they travel up and down from place to place, till that they being in a manner almost all destroyed, those few that were left alive, agreed to return home to their own Country. When their fellow-Thrushes that stayed at home, saw them return so fair, and fat, they said unto them; O how happy are you, and how wretched are we? We stayed here behind, and you see how weak, and how poor we be; but you are come home in that good case, your feathers so smooth, and so sleek, that it is a pleasure to look upon them; and your bodies so plump, and so well fed, that ye can scarce fly, ye be so fat; whereas we through pure hunger, are scarce able to stand upon our legs, and when we are on our wings, are ready through faintness to fall to the ground.  
whereunto these welcome-home Travellers returned this answer: The eyes of your consideration reach no farther, then to this our fatness; but if you would be pleased to weigh with yourselves, how many of us went from hence, and how few of us are returned home alive, you would rather rest contented with your poor, but secure fare; then with this our fatness, and full feeding, so full of dangers.  
They who look only on the pleasures of Marriage, and go no farther, where they may see scarce ten of ten thousand, to come off clear, and escape the danger of it, will think better of a single life, then of Marriage; and that it is far better and safer to be alone, then ill accompanied.  
Whilst we were in this Discourse, dinner was serving in, and the cloth being laid, I waited as I was wont to do; having my eyes still fixed on my Master's hands, that he might not wag a finger, but I might be in readiness to apprehend and execute his thoughts. But whilst I was thus watchful about my Master, Soto was not sleeping in the mean while to work me a mischief.  
And when he saw all his former malice could not work me out of favour, nor do me any harm, with shear money he went about to purchase out his revenge upon me. He grew into a League of friendship with my Master's Page, such another Bird as himself, for that bribes had corrupted 
Soto his malice towards Guzman. His plot to disgrace him.  him, and private interest drawn him to be thus dishonest towards me. He promised him a dainty fine pair of Stockings of his own knitting, and told him, that he would bestow them upon him, if (as he waited at the Table, he could handsomely steal a piece of Plate from thence, and hide it in some secret place in my Pantry, that I might not know of it. For, in so doing, he should effect two good things. First, he should gain a good pair of Stockings by the bargain. And secondly, himself, and his other fellow servants, should by this means be received again into favour, and I cast out.  
The Page did not like amiss of this motion; and taking occasion that day to go down, he took up a Silver Plate, which (by lifting up a little board) he hid in one of the sides of the Galley.  
Now when the cloth was taken away, going to gather up my Plate●… as my manner was) that I might make them clean, finding one of them wanting, I made diligent search for it; and when I had searched every corner, and could not find it, I presently gave notice, that I missed such a Plate; to the end that some diligence might be used, for the sooner recovery of it, with those his servants that appertained to the Poop.  
The Captain and my Master did believe what was truth at the first; but 
Hatred, what effects it produceth.  because my enemy Soto bare witness against me, it was voiced out amongst them, that myself, abusing the favour that I had with my Master, had stolen it, and conveyed it away, that I might lay the fault upon others, and so go away with it myself. This roguish Page, did put a helping hand here-unto, and did all that he could to disgrace me; So that now the doors began to be set open to suspicion, and had made some little entrance; and stepping farther in by degrees, my Master was often earnest with me, to confess the truth, before the business should grow fouler. But because I knew mine own innocence, and that I was as clear thereof, as the child that is new borne, I could give him no other satisfaction save good words.  
Then this Traitor the Page stood up, and said; methinks, Sir, it were not amiss that you would cause his Dispense, or Pantry to be searched. For it is not possible, but that he must hide it some where or other thereabouts. For, being that I had not gone out of the Poop, it was very likely they might find it in my lodging. This course took best, and was of all very well liked, and approved: And so getting them down, and rummaging all that little room; first this place, and then that, they lighted upon it at last where the Page had put it; and taking it forth, they came up with great joy, and proclaimed, that now they had found it, and that I had hid it there; for that it was not possible, that any body else should do it.  
Now, because this carried with it a show of truth, and that they had caught me in the Negative, this confirmed them in their suspicion, and this crime was laid to my charge.  
The Captain commanded the Alguazils servant, to glue me fifty stripes; from the which my Master did free me, entreating my pardon, for that it was the first fault that I had committed; advising me withal, that if hereafter I should be taken with the like, I should be sound punished, and pay both for the old, and the new. After this, I held not up my head any more, my heart was never truly merry, nor did enjoy myself, as before; not for that which was passed; but fearing that which was to come; Thinking with myself, that he, that had done me this wrong, would (having 'scaped this so well) watch his time to do me a greater mischief. And being jealous of some farther foul play, I earnestly besought both the Captain, and my Master, that they would quit me of this charge, and that I might have their good will to deliver over those things that were in my custody to some other, and I should take it from them as a favour, that they would return me back again, laden with my irons, to my Bank. They thought, that the ground of all this, was the desire that I had to go back again to serve my old Master, the Masters-Mate: And howbeit I did importune them very hard, and was very instant with them; they, for the same reason, were more earnest and urgent upon me; and that I should (though it grieved me) serve and attend there all the days of my life. Miserable man that I am (said I) I know not in the world what to do, nor how to defend myself from Traitors; who, it seemeth, have set themselves against me, only of purpose to undo me.  
I did all that I could possibly do for my life, no man living could be more careful, watching (like Argo's) with a hundred eyes, whatsoever was committed 
Argo's eyes are not sufficient to keep a man from the malice of his enemies.  to my charge, not neglecting those things that were scarce worth the looking after, being but trifles, and not to be reckoned of: yet all this my care would not serve my turn; it hath done me, you see, no good; I was now in my rising, but Heaven hath thought it fit that I must first fall.  
One evening, as my Master was coming forth, I went out (as I was wont to do) to receive him as he was to ascend the stairs, I gave him my hand; he comes up: I took off his Cloak, his Sword, and his Hat, and gave him his Sea-gown, and Cap, which was of green Damask; for these things I had still in a readiness.  
When I had done, I carried down those other things, putting them in their right place. That very night, not knowing, how, who, or by what means (unless it were the Devil's doing, for I could not conceive otherwise of it) that the Hat being fall'n down from the place where it hung, I found it without a Band, which was set with gold Buttons. Whip, Sir john, it was gone in a trice; so that in the morning, when I saw how it lay, and the Hatband gone, I stood like a man amazed.  
Well, I searched as diligently for it, as if my life had laid upon it; but to no purpose in the world. The Hatband would not appear, not was there any sign, or mark thereof, how it should be gone.  
When I told my Master of it; Ah (said he) now I know thee to be a thief; I wot well what thou art, and why thou dost it. But set your heart at rest, it shall not serve your turn, for the Hatband must not be so lost; I shall make you fetch it out, and yet fail of your purpose besides. I know your fetch well enough. Dost not thou think, that ever since the Plate was missing, I have looked into your water, and found out the disease thou art sick of, and that thou goest seeking new occasions, that thou mayst be quit of my service? But thou shalt serve me still in spite of thy teeth, if it be but to vex thee the more, and thou shalt have a thousand bastonadoes walk daily about thy shoulders: Nor shalt thou ever serve any other Master in the Galley, but myself; And in case I should go hence, I will so far befriend you, that thou shalt be ranked like a Rogue, according as thy Villainies deserve, and thy lewd and naughty dealings, since my good usage towards thee, will not make thee leave of, to be that which thou art, and ever wilt be Guzman de Alfarache; thats enough, I need say no more unto thee.  
I know not what to say unto thee, nor to endear the grief that I conceived here-upon. Finding myself clear and innocent, and yet charged with a just (as they would have it) and lawful crime, I replied not so much as one word, nor had I the power to speak; And if I should have sought to justify myself, had it been Gospel, that I should have delivered unto them, coming out of my mouth, no more credit would have been given unto it, then to Mahomet. I therefore was silent, and held my peace. For, when words will not profit a man, it were better that his tongue should be dumb, and his heart tell its griefs unto God. Inwardly to myself, I gave his Majesty thanks for this my affliction, beseeching him, that he would free me from this man's hands; for I knew not, wherein I had offended him. For I was so truly become another man, and so quite altered from that I was before, that I would rather suffer myself to be torn in a thousand pieces, then to commit any the least crime in the world.  
When they had used many diligences, and saw that by no means they could bring this Hatband to light; the Captain commanded the Alguazils man, that he should beat it out of me, and never give me over, till I had confessed the Theft.  
I was presently taken up, they did what they could, and I endured it as well as I could. They would have me to acknowledge that, which I never knew, whilst I with my soul poured forth such prayers, as I knew; invocating heaven, that that torment and blood, which those cruel stripes did draw from me, might be joined with those innocent drops, and undeserved tortures, which my good God both suffered, and shed for me, and that they might be available for me to salvation; seeing that there was now no way but one with me: For dye I must under these their tyrannous hands, if they did not leave off the sooner. They saw all of them in what a pitiful case I was, and there was nothing else wanting betwixt me and my death, but the breathing forth of my Spirit. And albeit it seemed to my Master, that my cruelty, in suffering myself thus to be whipped, was greater than his, in commanding it to be done; yet at last taking compassion upon me, and pitying the great torment that I was put to, caused me to be taken away.  
Then did they chase my body with Salt, and Wine Vinegar, which was of greater torment unto me, than the other. The Captain would have had them to have given me as much more upon my belly, saying; Little do you know, Sir, the condition of these thieves, who are of like nature to your Foxes; they will counterfeit themselves to be almost dead, and will lie, as if there were no life in them; but if you let them alone, and suffer them to take breath, they will run from you, like so many young Colts: And other some are so hardy, that for a piece of six pence, they will let you slay the skin from off their backs. But let this Dog assure himself, he shall not carry it away so; for I will never give him over, till I have either the Hatband, or his life. He commanded me to be carried away from thence to my Dispensilla, or little Pantry, where they did lie at me (I know not how often) with persuasions and admonitions, ever and anon notifying unto me, that I should either deliver up the Hatband, or arm myself with patience; for it was resolved, that I must be beaten to death, rather than I should enjoy what I had stolen. But, as no man can restore that which he never had; no more could I comply with that which they commanded me.  
Then I knew what it was to be a Galleyslave; and how that the love, which some made show to bear unto me, and the good looks that they gave me, proceeded only from the pleasure that they took in my merry jests, and witty conceits, and not for mine own sake. And the greatest grief that I did feel in these my miseries, was not so much for the pain which I did endure, nor for the false witness that was given against me, as that all of them did verily believe, that I did justly deserve this punishment, and therefore took no pity of me.  
Some few days (after this my rubbing and being washed with Salt and Vinegar) passed over my head, when lo, they came afresh upon me, commanding me to make restitution of the Hatband; and because I would not or (to speak more truly) could not give it them, they pulled me out of the Pantry, being very weak and ill, fastening Cords to the wrists of mine arm, and haling me up with a pulley, I hung (I know not how long) in the air, which was a terrible torment unto me, where I thought, I should have breathed my last. For my heart was so afflicted, that I had scarce any feeling that there was any such thing in my body, and my breath began to fail me. At last, they let me down, not to give me case, but to lay me down upon my back athwart the Cannon, that lies between the Forecastle, and hinder Deck; where when my belly lay fit for their purpose, they laid thereon such cruel blows, as if it had been for some heinous crime, charging the Officer to belabour me even to the death.  
But the Captain, beginning now to fear, that I was ready to give up the Ghost, and that he should be accountable to the King for me, if I should through this his cruel usage perish in my punishment, he held it the better option of the two, rather to lose the Hatband, then me. Where-upon he commanded they should take me away, and carry me to my wont lodging, there to be cured.  
When I began to recover, and had got a little strength, they yet thought themselves not sufficiently revenged of me; for they had still this steadfast belief o●…me, that I was such a notable Villainem and such a stubborn Rogue, that I would rather suffer all that rigour of this their whipping and scourging of me, then lose the interest of this my supposed theft: Insomuch, that they commanded the Master's Mate, that he should never pardon me, when I did offend, but that he should be very careful to punish still in me, those sins that were venial, as if they had been mortal:  
And he, who could not otherwise choose but fulfil his Captain's command (for he durst not for his life do otherwise) did chastise me with unaccustomed cruelty one while for that I did not get me to sleep at my due hours; another-while, for that I did not wake in time; if to supply my other wants, I did sell my allowance, sparing the meat out of my belly, to relieve my necessities, I was sure to be lashed for it; using me so extremely ill, that I was weary of my life, and did desire with all my heart, that I were out of this wretched world. And, that they might have the better colour to do as they did, and that they might pick occasion to pay me sound, and yet save themselves harmless; they committed to my charge the trouble of the 
a The Italian will have this to signify tu●…a la robo del Rey. The French ●…nders it, Con●…ille.  Cor●…lla; with protestation, that if any thing therein should be wanting, I should be sure to pay well for it. I was likewise upon all occasions, like the rest of the Galleyslaves, put to tug at the Oar; my Bank was the hindermost, and therefore the more painful, as being subject to the inclemency of the weather; in Summer, to heats; and in Winter to colds; being still tied to have a care to keep up the Beak of our Galley in the winds mouth, and to go snug and tyte. To my custody, were committed all the iron implements that were aboard her; as likewise the Cables, to cast or weigh Anchor, as need should require. When we did sail with the wind, I was fain to look to the foresail, as also to the sheate that was to the Larboard; sail, or not sail, I had something still to do, either before, or behind. I did spin all the Hemp, whereof your smaller cordage, and lesser Ropes were made, which were spent and employed on the Galleys. It was put to my account to tie up the Yards, to ruffle the Sails, to dry them, and then deliver them to the Shipboys, to hoist the Foresail, and see every thing fit about it. I did mend those ends of the sails that were torn and rend with the wind, I did patch and lengthen out those that were grown too short; I did strengthen the old tackle with odd ends, that I had in store for that purpose; but the Cables I supplied still with new stuff: I did help the Gunners to plant their Ordnance, remove their Carriages, and to wind and turn their Artillery, as they would have it. The care was laid upon me, to stop the touch-holes, and to see them well covered, that no wet should come at them; to look to the scouring sticks, and the Spoons to pour in the powder, to the Rammers, the Sponges, and the Lin-stocks that belonged to the Artillery. And when the Master-Mates man was out of the way, or otherwise occupied, it was enjoined me to sweep and make clean the Galley, and to be the common Swabber, causing the Shipboys to bring Mats and Rushes, to make Maps wherewithal to rub it, keeping it always neat and clean from all kind of filthiness. And of old ends of Rags, or of Flax and Tow, to make wads and wisps for those that go to the Long-house (you know what I mean) and this was the utmost of all miseries, and that went most against my stomach, as being of all others the meanest and the basest Office; for being to serve them with these, for so beastly (that I may not give it a worse word, for fear of turning thy stomach) a piece of business, I must first be forced to kiss it, before I give it into their hands, so that by an Attorney, I must kiss, you know what.  
He, that should have so many things committed to his charge as I had, and had not been accustomed unto them, it must have been almost impossible for him not to have failed in the performance of them; but through the great care that I always took, I did study to do all things well, and did seldom or never miss in doing of my duty, and with use, they grew every day less difficult than other. Even from hence also would Fortune have thrown me down if she could; but because her force cannot extend itself against the goods of the mind; and that adversity makes men wise and prudent; I still bore up stoutly, and continued firm and constant, withstanding all the power that she could make against me. And as he that is rich, and lives happily, is evermore afraid of falling; so on the contrary, was I in good hope of rising, because it was impossible for me to fall any lower. And as my mind gave me, so it fell out.  
Soto, my Comrade, came not to the Galleys, either to give Alms, or to preach Faith in Christ to the Infidels It was his sins that had brought him thither; for he had been the greatest, and most notorious thief, that ever was heard of in his time, either in all Italy, or in Spain. He had sometimes been a Soldier, and knew every part of the Country, as one that had travelled it to and fro many a time. He perceiving that our Galleys did sail along the Mediterranean, and that we went touching now and then upon the coast of Barbary, seeking reprizals, it entered into his imagination to treat with some Moors, and other Galleyslaves, that were of his faction, to make purchase of this our Galley, and to go shear away with it. For which purpose, he and they were already provided of some weapons, which they had hid in by-corners, and under their Banks, to make use of them, when time should serve. But because he could not bring this his design to pass, without having me to be of his Party, in regard of the place that I had in my Bank, where I was behind at his back; and for that the ordering of the Tackle and Cables were committed wholly to my charge, he thought fit to make me acquainted with this his intention, casting and considering with himself, that this business would be better welcome to no man then myself, as well for that I was condemned to serve there as a Slave all the days of my life; as also, that I might free myself from that Hell, where-into they had thrust me, and did so severely punish me. Soto would have broken the Ice himself, and did much desire to confer with me about it, but he could not find the means. Where-upon, he sent a Messenger unto me, (one that he might trust) desiring my reconciliation, and favour, and that I would join with him for the better effecting of our freedom from this cruel bondage and slavery wherein we now lived. I returned him answer, that this was not a business so easily to be undertaken as he supposed; but aught to be well weighed and thought upon, before we did resolve thereon; for we must needs run a very great hazard in the undergoing thereof; for that there was no medium betwixt these two; either to come off clear, or to lose our lives. To the Moor, who had brought me this message, my Counsel did not seem amiss; Telling me, that he would go with my answer to Soto, and find a time to come again unto me, and talk farther of it.  
In the Interim, while these messages passed to and fro, I consulted with myself; and for that I had put on a full resolution, not to do any thing that was infamous, or ill, no not for any profit or benefit that should accrue thereby unto me, I knew that it was now no time for me to advise farther with them; as well, for that I saw how they were resolved; as also for fear, if I should fall off from them, or otherwise miss of their purpose, they might chance to disclose me, and suborn some false witnesses against me, the better to excuse and save themselves: Giving out, that I, to free myself from the misery, wherein I lived, had incited them thereunto. Well, I gave them good words, and made myself to be of their party, they being resolved to put this their plot in execution upon Saint john Raeptists' day, betimes in the Morning.  
Now, when the Eve was come, and that one of the Soldiers was going to untruss a point, when he came to me for some Ockame to wipe his posteriors, I rose up, and whispering him in the care, secretly said unto him, Sir, tell your Captain, that it imports both his life, and his honour, to hear two words from me, which tend to his Majesty's service: and therefore let him presently give order that I may be brought to him into the Poop. He did so, and the Captain forthwith commanded me to come before him, where, in his presence, I revealed unto him this their conspiracy: whereat he blest himself, and would scarce give credit unto it; it seeming unto him, that I had invented this of mine own head, that I might be eased of those troublesome labours, and great miseries which I endured, and that by this means. I might procure some mercede or favour from him. But when I told him, where he should find their Weapons, and who, and how they were brought thither, he rendered many thanks unto God, that he had delivered him from so great a danger; promising, that he would see me well rewarded for my labour.  
He commanded one that was Captain of a Squadron, that he should make diligent search about those Banks, which I had pointed forth unto him, and looking there for their weapons, at last they lighted upon them. Presently there-upon, was a Process fulminated forth against all the Offenders: And because the next day following was a great Festival day, and very solemnly observed by us, their punishment was deferred till the next day following-God, (and my good fortune) who was well pleased with this my service, and did guide these businesses of mine, by his own divine hand, would needs have it fall out so luckily for me, that opening a Chest to hang out the Streamers that belonged to the Mainmast, the Misne, and other fitting places for them, as well in acknowledgement of their thankfulness unto God, as the honour and solemnity of that day, they found therein a nest of Rats, and amongst other trinkets my Master's Hatband.  
Soto conceiving how the world was like to go with him, was very desirous to have his ghostly Father come to him, that (like a good Christian) he might make confession of his sins, and craving pardon and forgiveness at my hands, for the false witnesses, that he had suborned against me about the Hatband, he did together declare, how, and wherefore he had done it, and howbeit he had made show to be reconciled unto me, and to enter into a new League of friendship with me, yet his purpose and resolution was, when they had made themselves Masters of the Galley, to have stabbed me, his hatred being such towards me, that nothing could satisfy it, but my death. From whose revengeful hand, my good God, that day, was so gracious unto me, as to free me from this his implacable malice.  
Soto, and one of his Companions, who were the Ringleaders of this rebellion, were condemned to be drawn in pieces with four Galleys; and five other to be hanged: Which sentence was executed. And as many as were found to have a finger in this business, were confined to the Galleys for term of life, being first publicly whipped, passing from Galley to Galley, till they had rounded the whole Fleet. As for the Moors, most of them had their noses and their ears cut off, that by this mark, they might be known, where ever they came, to be Rogues upon record.  
This exemplary justice having passed upon these Offenders; when all was ended, and things settled as before, the Captain sends for me, and highly extolling the goodness of my nature, my innocence, and my loyalty, craving pardon of me for my former ill usage, he commanded my irons to be struck off, and gave me leave to go at liberty up and down the Galley, till his Majesty's Royal Scedula should be sent for my absolute discharge. For so the Captain had supplicated for me; and being consulted on by the Council of War, the Petition was signed; which was no sooner sent down, but I was set at liberty.  
And here (gentle Reader) do I put a full point to these my misfortunes. I have given thee a large account of my lewd life; it is truly summed up unto thee. What it was hereafter, thou shalt see in my third and last Part, if God shall give me life: and that I do not first exchange this transitory one, for one that is eternal, which is the hope and life of the faithful.   
FINIS.