A BOULSTER LECTURE.   

This wife a wondrous racket means to keep,  
While th' Husband seems to sleep but does not sleep:  
But she might full as well her Lecture smother,  
For ent'ring one Ear, it goes out at tother.   
London. Printed for R. Best and are to be sold at by 〈…〉 Houlbourns.   

Art asleep Husband? A BOLSTER LECTURE; STORED With all variety of witty jests, merry Tales, and other pleasant passages; EXTRACTED, From the choicest flowers of Philosophy, Poesy, ancient and modern History. Illustrated with Examples of incomparable constancy, in the excellent History of Philocles and Do●iclea.  
By Philogenes Panedonius.  
O nox longa!—  Hor. 
LONDON, Printed by R. BISHOP, for R. B. or his Assigns. 1640.   


TO all modest Dames  
From tweed unto THAMES,  
Who prise their good names above Nectar;  
With a Paphian kiss  
Do I tender them this  
To silence a Canopy Lecture.   

TO you, this Book may well addressed be  
Since none from Bolster Lectures is more free:  
Be you then patroness without offence,  
And with a smile return me recompense.    

TO HIS DAINTY DOXES.  
DAINTY fine Creatures,— I will not swear, in good faith you be; But— if in your censure you prove sweet to me, I little care, believe 't, how sour you be. One thing I must tell you, the World has a strange opinion of you: But let not this trouble you: for the most of those that sojourn in it, are Walking Pictures, or Puppy Motions. So you live without Scandal, let the Constable of the Ward snore, and Diogenes walk all the night o'er with his Candle. Though he find Works of lightness in Houses of darkness: Single Skirmishes in blind Alleys, Back-stayres, and long Entries: whole bunches of Cornucopia in his newfound Utopia: Cleave you like Ticks to your own, preserve your renown, and sing hay down a down, to the honour of our Town.  
Thus, neither to all, nor to many, but to very-very few, and those of that Crew, who are loyal and true, bids Musaeus  
Adieu.   

THE SUBJECTS whereof it treats.  

1 THe Excellency of Women in their Creation.  
2 Their imitable virtues, illustrated with Examples.  
3 Their moderation of Passion.  
4 Their Continency in assaults.  
5 Their modesty in Countenance, Habit, and expression of their Affection.  
6 The violence of some Women used upon such as were Corrivals in their Choice, enlarged with memorable Examples.  
7 Their modest defence, to allay those passionate extremes discovered in the former Subjects.  
8 Their witty Aphorisms, Apothegms, and Answers.  
9 Their eminent Labours: And how they were Assistants in the exquisitest Works that have been formerly composed, either for History, or Poesy.   
Every one of which Subjects you shall find intervened with choice variety of pleasing Tales, and delightful Stories, to comply with the Fancy of the most curious and censorious Reader.   

A TABLE, OR Apt Disposure, both in number and Order, of all such material Points, Tales, and Stories, as are here related, or familiarly couched in this BOLSTER LECTURE.  

SECTION I. First, of the Excellency of Women in their Creation. Pag. 1.  
Under which Subject (to allay a fastidious hour, and sweeten the Sequel of a more serious Story) are these Tales contained and continued.  
1 THe Answer of a lukewarm Husband to his Neighbour, being asked how his Wife did: Assuring him, that for his part, he was sick, because his wife was no ●●ker; And what an heavy doleful house he had; grounding their sorrows upon two contrary fears. 
Pag. 4  2 The Scholastical Wooer. 
6  3 The amorous Graduate, or the Pedantical Suitor. 
ib.  4 The Story of Apelles and Campaspe. 
9  5 Zeuxis his incomparable Art in the delineature of Crocous daughters. 
ib.  6 Several Posies derived from several fancies, writ in a Window with a Diamond. 
10  7 The Tale of the Maid, who after a long and straight siege, was enforced to expose her honour to the barbarous violence of an insulting Soldier. 
11  8 The ancient Vestals votive Order, and with what austerity they preserved their honour. And of that heroic Princess' resolution in defence of her honour. 
12  9 The ●ale of a Shrew, and how she encountered her Husband, meeting him amongst other Goodfellows at a Tavern door. 
13  10 The Answer of a shroud Girl upon occasions of displeasure taken at her husband. 
14  11 Fields bring forth miscellaene grains, and all ages women of mixed conditions; instanced in our Roman Matrons. 
15   

Four distinct motives to affection.  
1 Beauty; whose opposite is Disdain. 15. and 16  
2 Agility of body; whose opposite is Liberty. 15. and 16  
3 Quickness of wit; whose opposite is Distaste. 15. and 16  
4 Gentleness of speech; whose opposite is Dissimulation. 15. and 16   

OF BEAUTY.  
Under which Branch, are these Stories shrouded.  
1 THe passionate Amorist his Canto. 
18  2 The resolute Gentleman's Passado. 
19  3 The Western Pedlar's Daughter; who fed her Suitor with Consideration, till too long delay brought her to a Conception. 
21  4 The Story of that great Favourite Flaviano, and why he disliked his Wife. 
22  5 Fancy is not always grounded on beauty: instanced in the Pastoral of Nais. 
23  6 Socrates Glass. 
ibid.    

DISDAIN.  
Under which Branch are these Stories shadowed.  
1 THe noble Disposition of that brave Lady Marcelles, in the discovery of her affection. 
26  2 Caesar accounted greater in Cleopatra's victory, than in the discomfiture of her Anthony. 
27  3 Memorable Examples of Continency in both Sexes: and of the incomparable beauty and chastity of Sputimia. 
ib.  4 The glorious Act of the incomparable Chiomara. 
28  5 The excellent Saying of a religious Votaress. 
29  6 The Tragic Disasters of three unfortunate Italian Lovers. 
30  7 A pitiful passionate Letter of a rejected Lover to his Mistress. 
31  8 A desperate adventure entertained by a passionate Lover. 
ib.  9 The resolution of a discreet Lover in the disdain of his Mistress. 
32.33  10 A Tale of a wanton Widow, and her answer to a stale Bachelor, and importunate Suitor: with the Bachelors witty reply in disesteem of her fancy. 
35.36    

AGILITY OF BODY.  
Under which Branch are these Stories couched.  
1 IN the Empire of Monomotapa bounding upon the kingdom of Congo, among all the rest of the Emperor's Soldiers, the most valorous in name are his Legions of women. 
38.39. etc.  2 The Licentious practices of the insatiate Messalina in her Antonine Baths. 
40  3 Cleopatra's pearl broths. 
42  4 Where a strong Constitution accompanies a promising feature, there needs no potions to procure Love, nor powders to enable nature. 
43    

LIBERTY.  
Under which Branch these Stories are closed.  
1 OF Liberty in Restraint: and of Restraint in Liberty. 
44  2 Of the nimble Monkey in Cheapside. 
45.  3 The Tale of the Maid, when her mother found her suspiciously in a corner with a young man: and how she fitted her mother, and kept trice with her Lover. 
46  4 The ●ale of the Good Wife, when her husband found her in bed with a Neighbour. 
ib.  5 The Tale of the Court-Gentlewoman, who was found in a long dark Entry with a young Cavalier. 
47  6 The Tale of the Bridegroom, first night he was married: and her Bridal Curtain Lecture. 
ib.  7 The Widows twitting of her second Husband with the abilities of her first. 
48  8 ☞ The arrogant Widowers proposal upon terms of marriage: and the Widow's peremptory answer to his unequal demands. 
48.49  9 The discreet patient Cuckold. 
49.50  10 The converted Courtesan. 
50, 51  11 The Tale of the merry Miller and his wanton Minton. 
52  12 The Spirit in the Vault, or the Curtaine-confession of two wanton Wenches to two suspicious Husbands. 
52.53.54.55. & 56  13 The Tale of a delicate Student, who made his Bed his Study: And how his Bed-fellow requited him with like curtsy. 
56.57  14 The Humorous Lady; with her inglorious end suiting well with her distempered quality and disdainful life. 
ib.  15 The Northern Girls answer to a subtle Opposer. 
ib.  16 The reply of a Barber's Wife to her Husband upon finding her it'h suds. 
58  17 The answer of a witty Woman to a discursive Husband; who was more active in his liberty of discourse, than performance of any due benevolence. 
ib.  18 A Widows answer to One who came to speak with her Husband, after he was dead. 
ib.  19 The answer of a good Wife to her Husband, occasioned upon the relation of the nature, quality, and disposition of a Turk. 
58.59  20 Of the Women of Sio. 
59, 60  21 The Tale of a fat Farrier and a bouncing Hussy, delivered in a merry Epigram. 
60, 61  22 The Tale of an Atturney's Clerk. 
62, etc.    

QUICKNESS OF WIT.  
Under which Branch are these Stories ranked.  
1 THe Tale of that finitive Girl in excuse of her Lady. 
68  2 Of the Curate's Wife in behalf of her Husband. 
ib.  3 Of the soft-tempered Gentleman's answer to a Lady's demand, when he thought his Wife would be brought a-bed. 
ib.  4 The arrogant opinion of Velleius the Epicurean. 
69  5 Feminine Disputants should be silenced Ministers: they flow in words, but drop in matter: but no less infinitely erring in the first, than barren in the latter. 
17  6 The eloquent Lady, who though a foul Delinquent, caused her Audience to melt with compassion, and hold her innocent. 
ibid.  7 A resemblance in our variety of wits, to diversity of Soils. 
p. 71    

DISTASTE.  
Under which Branch are these Stories displayed.  
1 THe Tale of a wenching Companion, who could not far well, but he must cry roast-meat. 
74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, & 81  2 A Story related to like purpose, happening in our own time, and in our own Clime. 
81, 82, & 83.  3 The Tale of a wanton witty Dame, who advised her Sweetheart, to secure them the better from her Husband's presence, to attire his Servant in a Bear's skin, etc. which Story is commended to the relation of a Poem. 
84, 85, & 86.  4 The fury of a jealous Dame unto her Servant, upon finding some favours bestowed on him, in her Maid's Cabinet. 
86, etc.  5 The Tale of the Woman who accused One before a justice for a Rape. 
p. 87.  6 The Tragical intention, but Comical conclusion of a Gentleman, who employed in Service abroad; and having a very beautiful Wife, desired to be satisfied how she behaved herself in his absence, etc. 
p. 87, 88, etc.  7 The easy Credulity of a lightly-perswaded Gentleman, who choosed rather to incur the worst of infamy, than harbour the least suspicion (though he had sufficient occasion) of his Wife's honesty. 
89, 90, & 91.  8 The Tale of a jovial goodfellow, who armed himself with barley broth against his Wife's shrewd tongue. His fearful vision in his midnights wand'ring: his encounter with his Wife at his home returning. All which are lest to the faithful relation of a pleasant Poem. 
92, 93, & 94.  9 Of the Man, who being ta'en tardy, feigned himself pursued by a Spirit, which caused him to fly for succour to his Neighbour's bed. 
94  10 The tale of an University Virago. 
95, 96  11 The Answer of a brave Blade, being in company of a bevy of jovial Wenches, who had whittled him well with liquor: and how he retorted the demand of a braving Blouse too too enquisitive after his actions, to her own dishonour. 
95, 96  12 How a sociable Goodfellow finding his Wife laid speechless, returned her ample recompense for her sullenness. 
97  13 The Answer of a witty Wench to One, and that a familiar One, who asked her the reason how it came to pass that her Children should be so like their Father, when all the World knew that they had many Fathers, etc. 
98  14 Of a trifling Girl who was cracking nuts; and of another ill-nurtured Tomboy who fell to catching of Flies, while her Sweetheart was preferring his Suit. 
98  15 How Alcibiades drowned Eupolis in the Sea, because Eupolis had drowned his fame so often upon the Stage. 
100  16 The Story of the Gentleman and his son being Corrivals to one Lady; and of the Imprese they writ with Diamonds in a Window. 
p. 101    

GENTLENESS OF SPEECH.  
Under which Branch are these Stories digested.  
1 WHat excellent fruits, this Gentle Speech graced with a pleasing presence have produced both in affairs of peace and war. 
104  2 What passionate effects that sad relation of Aeneas wrought in the heart of the Carthaginian Queen. 
ib.  3 Of the princely presence and unaffected Eloquence of Sophonisba. 
105  4 The excellent Commendation of a Peer of this Kingdom, for ability of discourse and persuasion of argument. 
ib.  5 The deserving praise of a Burgomaster's Wife. 
108  6 The Bridegroom's funeral, or the Bridall-Bra●le. 
108, 109, & 110  7 Zantippes Story with other Vixons of the like quality. 
111  8 Aphorisms extracted from Hypocrates, and applied to our present purpose. 
112  9 How a Woman was wa●ned from her inbred Condition, and with kindness won to a sweet disposition. 
112, 113  10 A Tale of a Falconer. 
ib. 110  11 The strange opinion begot out of Custom, which the Muscovian women have of their Husbands, if they do not beat them: And of an heavy design arising thereon. 
114, 115, & 116.  12 How kisses came first from Trojan Dames, hoping by that means to pacify their incensed Husbands. 
1●6, etc.  13 Excellent Directions for our form of Speech. 
117  14 The prattling of a Fondling to her Husband: And of the Millanoises his confession, that his Wife's tongue had ever a charm in readiness to unloose his purse 
118    

DISSIMULATION.  
Under which Branch are these Stories discovered.  
1 THe sundry Resemblances of Dissimulation to divers Creatures. 
119  2 The nimble Device of a witty Wife, to delude her Husband. 
120  3 The like instanced upon several occasions. 
121  4 Dissimulation expressed in Subjects of Passion: and returned in the Tale of a passionate widow at the Burial of her Husband. 
122  5 The Answer of a Good wife to her Husband, in pointing at a Cuckold. 
ib.  6 The like upon Thames, occasioned upon the same Subject. 
ib. etc.  7 The Answer of a young Bride to her Bride-maid upon her marriage night. 
123  8 A single Woman's answer to her Confessor. 
124  9 Historical passages of Thomyris, Penelope and Hypermnestra. 
ib. & 125  10 The Story of the Hesperides, with their Emblem. 
126  11 Of a subtle Coy-Ducke, who dissemblingly from her credulous Husband shrouded her stain, till a more public discovery exposed her to shame. 
ib. etc.  12 The constant loyalty, and faithful secrecy of a noble Italian Lady: and how the concealing of her love, became the deprival of her life: which likewise procured his death, whom she did entirely love. 
127, 128, etc.  13 A familiar manner of Wooing betwixt two homespun Lovers. 
129, etc.  14 When Affection comes in place, Portion is ever to take the second place. 
131  15 Love is not to be strangled, but easily repelled, and by distance allayed, and not only distanced, but with employments wearied. 
132  16 The Speech of a brave Spartan Lady, upon report of a disloyal act done by her endeared Servant. 
ib.  17 Those who can pretend fancy to a Lover, and reserve a Corner of their heart for another, are resembled to Paphlagonian Partridges, that are said to have two hearts. 
ib.  18 The nature of the juniper; resembled to a loyal Lover. 
133  19 Women should not be to free nor open in the impartment of their fancy: instanced in a Lady, who after her inconstancy, engaged her fancy to her rejected friends discovery. 
134  20 A pretty Tale of a discontented Couple, who, to mend the matter, jointly resolved to be married again. 
135, etc.  21 The choice of a merry Greek touching his four Mistresses; clozed in an Epigram. 
137, etc.  22 The brave temper of a Biscoy in the expression of her Love. 
138  23 Of dissembling Widdow-mourners. 
ib. & 139  24 The Story of the Indian woman. 
ib. & 140  25 A conceited Treatise composed by an Italian, entitled, A Supplication to Candle-light. 
ib. & 141  26 Choicest Cates cloy the soon. 
142  27 Of a Wanton Florentines free invitation of fresh Servants. 
143  28 The chased and temperate Sovereignty of an honoured Lady. 
ibid.  29 Contempt or Self-opinion, the sole estrangers of affection; made clear by an experienced relation. 
ib. & 144  30 Theodora's her divine discourse to a loose Lover. 
145, etc.  31 To our amorous Surveyors of Belcone's, and professed Courtiers of casements; with the story of a deluded Gallant in the quest of his Mistress. 
146, 147, 148, 149, & 150  32 The like story (but interlaced with sundry choice passages) of a young Prodigal, who found his own wife in the habit of a Courtesan. 
150, 151, 152, 153, & 154  33 The famous story of Isabel, wife to Luchino Visconti Lord of Milan; her pretended Pilgrimage purposely to visit her dear servant Ugolino: which caused the Milanese to lay siege to Mantua, though afterwards removed by the mediation of friends. 
155, 156  34 An excellent modern story of a young Gentleman and his Lady; how after a long division, by a strange occasion they became reconciled, and made one in affection. 
156, 157, 158, 159, & 160  35 The Character of a Gentleman Vsher. 
161, etc.  36 Evil society the stain of Gentry. 
ibid.  37 Pleasure and Profit make up the best Music. 
167     

SECTION II. Imitable virtues in Women; illustrated by Examples.  
Under which Subject are these Stories contained and continued.  
1HE descends to a serious survey or diligent display of every Cardinal Virtue. Wherein he finds rare feminine instances in each kind: and such as may deserve imitation of the Stronger Sex. 
168, etc.   

PRUDENCE.  
Under which kind, are these Stories connexed.  
1 OF the City Cockney, who expected a continued penthouse in all her Country-journey. 
169  2 The discreet and prudent carriage of Thomyris, in her besteading of the Massagetes, and discomfiture of Cyrus: the wise mannagement of her estate, in the whole course of her reign. 
 Her witty Inscription upon her Tomb. 
170, etc.  3 The wise and peaceable Government of the stately Semiramis. 
172, etc.  4 The glory of the Amazonian state under their invincible Penthesilea. 
173, etc.  5 The wisdom and resolution of that excellent Sophonisba. 
174, etc.  6 Of Berenice; Nicaula, the Sabean Queen; Sheba's visit of King Solomon; The prudence of royal Hester, in preventing her people's danger; And of Abigail in pacifying David's anger: winding up this link with the living fame of our renowned Eliza, who made her Kingdom (this hedged Garden) an Elysium. 
176    

JUSTICE.  
Under which link are these Stories in wreathed.  
1 Justice an Abstract of all other virtues, illustrated by sundry memorable Sentences, delivered by such women as were held not only professors but practisers of that virtue. 
178  First, of the Thracian Lady. 
ibid.  Secondly, of the Alban Lady. 
ibid.  Thirdly, of the Empress in her patronage of justice.. 
ib. & 179  Fourthly, of a just Mother in the censure of her daughter. 
ib.  Fiftly, of the resolution of those Almain Sisters. 
180  Sixtly, the like example of a noble Gentlewoman in our own Coast. 
ibid.  Seventhly, the noble disposition of a modest Matron. 
ibid.  Eightly, the advice of the Sabine women. 
ib. & 181  Ninthly, the impartiality of Aurelia in her husband's election. 
ib.  Justice, when corrupted, may be compared to the Celedonie stone; when equally dispensed, compared to the Selenite stone. 
ibid. & 182  In the Emperor Basils' time was found neither Plaintiff to accuse, nor Defendant to answer. 
ib.  The Princess Decree against litigious Plaintiffs. 
ibid.  justice resembled to the Evening Star. 
ib.    

TEMPERANCE.  
Under which link are inchaced these Stories.  
1 THe excellent saying of a Lady in the attemperature of her affection: occasioned from Livia's and Lucilia's different passions. 
184  2 This virtue pitcheth mainly upon three Objects. 


1 Irascible. ibid.  
2 Concupiscible. ibid.  
3 Intelligible. ibid.    3 For Commanders in the first, are instanced Architas, Chilo, and a noble Lady. 
185  4 For Commanders in the second, a discreet Ethnic Lady; the incomparable Armenia. 
186  5 Their command over their desires in contempt of Honour, Habit, Appetite, instanced in many excellent Ladies: not without just, reproof of that famous Italian Domenico Silvio his wife, who preferred luscious fare before her fame, light consorts before her honour. 
187, etc.  6 The Romans made Recluses of their own Houses. 
190  7 What temperance the ancient Romans observed in their abstinence from wine. 
ibid.  8 The diversion of their passion; their zeal to reputation. 
191  9 For Commanders in the last, He refers them to his Eight Section, wherein their witty Aphorisms are contained. 
192    

FORTITUDE.  
Under which link are inchained these Stories.  
1 OF Epicharia, that famous Libertine of Rome. 
193, etc.  2 Of Leaena, though a prostitute, secret and resolute. 
ib.  3 The speech of a discreet Gentlewoman. 
195  4 The exhortation of a person of high quality, and one of our own Country, addressed to her husband about the death of his son. 
ibid. & c  5 What women aptest to retain secrets. 
ibid.  6 The strange cautious flight of Geese in their passage from Cilicia over the mountain Taurus. 
197  7 Dionysius his straight command for beheading Bryas. 
198  8 A sweet consort the only allayer of grief and augmenter of comfort: their secrecy, their husband's safety, 
ibid. etc.  9 The speech of a discreet Grecian, touching secrecy of counsel. 
ibid.  10 No better Inns for Curtain conference to lodge in, than at the Signs of Harpocrates and Anacharses. 
ib.  11 Excellent instruction in matters of Secrecy. 
201  12 Milo was not half so strong in bearing a Bull; as Stilpho in opposing his own will. 
ibid.  13 The Wife of Bath, upon whose Tale, the Author at request of some noble Friends, hath lately annexed his illustrations, was nothing nice, in telling the World what liked a Woman best. 
ib.  14 How wittily a Gentlewoman covered her jealousy. 
202  15 How commendable it is for women to decline their minds from an apish imitation of fashions. 
ib.  16 The humorous Lady; who ever wore the best clothes, when she came lee in sight. 
ibid. etc.  17 When opportunity and youth meet together: the Combat makes a glorious Conqueror, instanced in Penelope. 
ib.  18 What Women, and those of noblest rank, to their lasting glory, have in our own Country, by their continued widowhood, honoured their Husband's memory. 
204  19 The devout Meditation and constant resolution of a young Gentlewoman: with a farewell to all vanity upon her Conversion. 
205, etc.     

SECTION III. Their Moderation of Passion.  
Under which Subject are these Stories presented.  
1THe unexemplary Disaster at Cannae. 
210, etc.  2 The patience of Octavia, Porcia, Tanaquila, whose well-composed temper raised her Tarquin from a subject to an Emperor. 
ibid. etc.  3 The temperate moderation of Caecilia and Cornelia. 
ibid., etc.  4 Instances of our own, in a most loyal Wife, who was distasted by her Husband only because she was his wife. 
215  5 Women may be too insensible of injuries, aswell as too apprehensive. 
p. 216  6 Houses are neither to be governed by Shrews nor Sheep. 
ib.  7 A legendary Story of a patient Votaress. 
ib. & 217, 218, & 219  8 A Discourse of such Women who thought they had Spirits stout enough to revenge, & Power enough to second that revenge, yet held they it their highest honour to moderate passion with a recollected temper. 
ib.  9 A Colonel's attestation of his wife's calm disposition. 
220  10 A Virago, quite of another nature. 
ibid.  11 The Syracusans strong testimony of his Wife's temper. 
ib.  12 Loss of estate more sufferable than loss of good name: instanced in the resolution of a noble Roman Lady. 
221  13 A Gentlewoman's answer to a perfect Courtier, laying siege to her honour. 
222  14 Mildness begets in women, a near resemblance with that well-disposed feminine Monarchy of Bees: they have honey to sweeten their stings. 
223  15 No virtue more ennobles a rational soul than this Moderation of Passion. 
ib.    

SECTION IU. Their Continency in assaults.  
Under which Subject are these Stories related.  
1 SOPHRONIA'S modest answer to a Wanton Suitor. 
225.226  2 Scipio commended for returning to Allantius his Spouse, after such time as her beauty was presented to him for a booty. 
ib. etc.  3 The like of Alexander, for sparing Darius' wife and his three Daughters. 
ib.  4 What a firm tye Conjugal love held, even among Ethnics. 
ib.  5 The Tragical story of Camma wife to Synattus and Synorix. 
ib. etc.  6 The resolute answer of a Noble Captive to a General: And what a fortunate issue crowned both their desires. 
229, 230  7 The constant affection of a virtuous Maid: with her Answer to her father touching her Choice. 
ib. etc.  8 The story of those dainty Dalmatian virgins: showing with what continency they resisted the assaults of their commanding Enemies. 
ib. & 233  9 The like of those Scythian women, who after their Husband's discomfiture, choosed rather to expose themselves to death and danger, than forfeit their honour. 
ib. etc.  10 Instances in Women, who wained their fancies from those whom they once loved: And this he confirms with a pleasant Story happening betwixt two Lovers upon the yielding up of Brada. 
ibid. & 235, 236, 237.    

SECTION V. Their Modesty in Countenance, Habit, and Expression of their Affection.  

COUNTENANCE.  
Under which Subject are these Stories ●mopiled.  
1NOne can say they have modest minds, so long as they have immodest eyes. 
239  2 Light Habits suit not well with grave hearts: nor wandring-eyes with settled minds. 
ibid.  3 He inveyes against painting, powdering, purfling: and strengtheneth his reproof with the testimonies of S. Hierom, S. Cyprian, S. Ambrose, S. Nazianzen, Clemens, Pet. Martyr, Tertullian, Scultetus, Petrarch, etc. 
240, etc.  4 A pleasant passage betwixt a Bedlamer and a fantastic Girl. 
242, etc.  5 ☞ Lacides Prince of Argos, accounted lascivious for his sleek looks, and mincing gate. 
244  6 So was Pompeie for scratching his head with one finger. 
ibid.  7 Augustus discovered the dispositions of his daughters, by the places where they frequented; the company with which they conversed. 
ibid.  8 The directions of a Roman Matron to her daughters. 
ib. & 245  9 Th● composed Countenance, and constant ●●desty of a young maid, both in the presence and absence of her choice. 
246  10 The modesty of that incomparable Aemilia. 
247    

HABIT.  
1 THe Habit of the body, the Anatomy of the mind. 
248  2 The answer of a Lady of this Kingdom to a Peer who came to visit her, ask her why she appeared still a mourner? 
ib. & 2●9  3 The Answer of an Outlandish woman to one of our own Natives, touching following of fashions. 
250.  4 A Divine Answer returned by an excellent Lady to an impertinent Objection. 
ibid.    

EXPRESSION OF AFFECTION.  
1 THe Expressive and most Emphatical Speeches of Aurelia, Sulpitia, and that brave Burgundian Lady. 
251  2 A rare expression of affection in a young Maid: and how in a disguise following her Lover she died of a fever. 
252 etc.  3 A passionate story of a deeply enamoured Girl. 
ib●●. 255  4 The modest affection of majestic Marcelia. 
ibid.  5 A woman should neither be too forward, nor 〈…〉, nor too easy in the expression of her fancy: shadowed in two posies. 
256, etc.     

SECTION VI The violence of some Women used upon such as were Corrivals in their choice: with Examples.  
Under which Subject are these Stories recorded.  
1 ITALY, a tragic Theatre of such Presentments. 
258, etc.  2 The jealous Lady, who stabbed her Favourite. 
ib. & 260.  3 The Lady's Duel. 
261, etc.  4 The cunning plot of Madam D'Alveare, to discover her Servants familiarity with another. 
263, etc.  5 The Corrivals bloody banquet. 
268.    

SECTION VII. Their modest defence.  
Under which Subject are these Stories confined.  
1THe different affections and effects of Lucilia and Livia; Phedra and Dejanira. 
271  2 Good intentions many times produce heavy events: and now and then mischievous plots, Comical ends: with instances of the latter, in Olympia's unjust suit to her son Alexander: And Mandanes Dream. Of the former, in ●litemnestra and Aegystus: unfortunate Agrippina in the hopes she conceived, and breeding she bestowed on Nero. 
ib. 272, etc.  3 Of an over-kind Duck, who killed her too ticklish Sweetheart with kindness. 
ib.  4 A Review of all such Tragic Examples as were presented in the last Section. 
274  5 Their just Apology in defence of their Continency and Constancy. 
275  6 A custom amongst the Romans of breaking their Bride-waines. 
ib.  7 Plato's difference betwixt two kinds of Venus: with the application of that Fiction, and Moral to all modest Women: in the regulation of their Thoughts, Words and Actions. 
ib.  8 The Counsels of mellifluous Bernard and sententious Seneca, with all instancy recommended to them. 
279  9 By making Heaven their Object; whatsoever is less than Heaven, becomes their Subject. 
ib.  10 We should be Pythagoreans to all the World, and Peripatetians to Christ. 
ib.  11 The young Gallants encounter with his wanton Mistress, in Erasmus. 
ib.  12 A view of such Errors wherewith Women are taxed: As their Ambition after honour, pleasantly instanced: with an Other, who desired rather to have her husband nimbly agile, than aged and honourable. Their frequent to Court-Maskes and other public State-shows. Their Working affection upon any moving action. Their proclivity to change their choice; wherein occasionally Bodin is confuted. Their short and feigned funeral tears, over their Husband's Graves. Their Unbounded desires. Their easy inclination to temptation; an Objection assoiled in the very first Section. Their longing affection after a promising proportion. Their inconstancy in their desire of Change; with their jealousy in the enjoyment of their Choice. Their perspective Pattentary Sedands, wherein they desire rather to see than to be seen. All which groundless aspersions and corky objections are so clearly refelled▪ as these Timonists or feminine T●tters are enforced to come off with dishonour: with an acknowledgement of their error, a disclaiming of their Censure. Their easy simplicity an excuse to their error: how misconstruction, rather through ignorance th●●● malice, makes them subject to mistakes: with a merry example to that purpose 
279, 280, etc.  13 A 〈◊〉 vindicating of them against their 〈◊〉, who tax them of pride: by bringing in their toys▪ tires, and dress▪ w●●ples, wires, and curl; 〈◊〉, poudring, and purfling upon the stage. 
289  14 The 〈◊〉 of Lessius and Alagora, in 〈…〉 women may use painting and 〈…〉 without sinne● in which 〈…〉 himself spa●●ng, to 〈…〉 
ib. & 290  15 the Author's opinion is, that none of these Critics would so injuriously hate, nor maliciously write against women, but that they have been lightly hurt, or wantonly wounded by some women. 
291  16 He closeth this Section with a twofold exhortation: the one, to encourage women to sleight these malicious affronts squeezed from the pen of Calumny: the other, to ad●vise them to stand upon their guard, seeing no place can be so free from occasion, as to promise itself security. 
ib. etc.    

SECTION VIII. Their witty Aphorisms, Apothegms, and Answers.  
Under which Subject are these Stories contracted.  
1WOmen recorded for their wisdom in allaying their Husband's affliction. 
294  2 Others for their brave composed spirits, in scorning to stoop though they were crushed with affliction. 
ib. etc.  3 Others so far from coyness, as they run into all hazards, to seize themselves of the Object of their affection. 
ib.  4 Others such loving kind Turtles, as they could not endure the absence of their own: nor conceive any defects or infirmities in their own. 
297  5 The loyal answer of a loving Bride to her Husband, occasioned upon our late distractions in Scotland. 
ib.  6 ☞ A discourse of Aphorisms, arising from Anacreontick Spirits; illustrated by Instances. 
ib.  7 The strange question of a Tradesman's wife at a Gossip's feast. 
ib. & 299  8 The Tale of a reverend old Bencher, and his Shrieking Lady. 
ib.  9 The pleasant importunity of an amorous Tomboy, to her Sweetheart. 
ib.  10 A witty Girl's Receipt to a broken Tradesman. 
ib. & 300  11 The hot-brained Calacute, and his jealous humour: with his Ladies religious answer. 
ib. & 301  12 The desperate Malcontent. 
ibid.  13 With these stories, He retires from the Booths of Suburra, and repairs to the Temple of Viriplaca. 
ib.  14 Others who extracted from those indented lines of their decayed Beauty, Emblems, and Lectures of mortality. 
302  15 Instances in the first; Theogena wife to Agathocles; and Sulpitia. 
294. etc.  16 Instances in the second; Lovely Lydia, and brave-Spirited Martia. 
ib. & 296  17 Instances in the third; Marcelia and Chariclea. 
ib.  18 Instances in the fourth; Caja Tranquilla, Ruth, Armenia, and Hieros' heroic Consort. 
297  19 Instances in the last; Bellingeria and Eugenia. 
302  20 Aphorisms, Apothegms, and Answers of an other nature; beginning with that pertty pert Girls answer to her Mother. 
ib. etc.  21 That bold Wanton who left her child to the care and charge of the Parish. 
303  22 ☞ That witty wenches shrewd answer to a cassocked Dunces encounter. 
ib. & 304  23 That good-wifes' reply to her Husband's pretended progress. 
ib.  24 The Good-wises answer to a Chemic Doctor. 
ib.    

SECTION IX. Their Eminent Labours; And how they were Assistants in the exquisitest Works that have been formerly composed, either for History or Poesy.  
Under which Subject are these Stories concluded.  
1WHat happiness attends those men who cast their Lots in fair fields: and what infelicity accompanieth the contrary. 
306 307  2 A Catalogue of such creatures, whose sweet nature and choice temper have both with modesty and majesty tendered their Consorts a Bolster Lecture. 
308  3 Zenobia, beside other Princely Tasks, made an abridgement of the Alexandrian, and all the Oriental Histories. 
ib. ●09  4 What inward beauty upon their Sex, bestowed that virtuous Cornelia, mother to the victorious Gracchus; Portia, Brutus his wife; Cleobula, daughter to Cleobulus, one of the seven Sages of Greece; the daughter of Pythagoras; Theano daughter to Metapontus; Phemone, that mysterious Sibyl, who first gave life to an Heroic verse; Sulpitia, Calanus his wife; Hortensia, daughter to the famous Orator Hortensius; Edesia of Alexandria; Corinnathia, who contended for the Laurel with Pindarus; Paula, Seneca's wife; Argengentaria Pollia, or Polla, wife to Lucan; and his assistant in his highest & heroick'st composures? 
309, etc.  5 Such as these might make good Companions to pray, play, and converse with. 
312  6 Mouth-lovers are but Month-lovers: when their Honey-month is done, their love-threed is spun. 
ib.  7 Modest Matrons will admit no youthful parlance: nor stoop to any uncomely dalliance. 
ib.  8 Those loves quickly expire and die, which receive their only infusion by the eye. 
ib.  9 Lovers easily deluded, when by their Sense only directed. 
ib.  10 A Courtesans Anatomy-Lecture. 
313, etc.  11 Love grounded on Sense, produceth jealousy; jealousy revenge. 
315  12 These very modern times afford Ladies, so highly enriched with unequalled abilities both by Art and Nature as they have deservingly acquired, & constantly retained that select style of THE WITS. Their desire is, to have their Muses rather buskined than busked. Sweet and dainty Airs, their choicest cares. 
316  13 Others we have, though not altogether so happy for strength of fancy, yet no less useful in another faculty: by reading Principles of House-wivery to their well ordered family. 
ib. & 317  14 These welcome their husband's home with a smile: and entertain his friend without a thought of ill. 
ib.  15 To gain themselves more improvement, they task themselves to some employment. 
ib.  16 They read not to dispute, but to live: not to talk, but to know. 
ib.  17 A man ill-married, (and finding in himself a willingness to suffer) may boast that he possesses in the person of his wife, all necessary qualities to be put into the List of Martyrs. 
318  A man well-married is so far from that opinion, as he has a Consort ever ready to afford him sweet Music without Division. 
ibid.  18 In the conclusion of this Section, he exhorts Ladies to retain a memory and resemblance of those he has described: and he shall acknowledge this his Labour and Service addressed to them, highly requited. 
ib.   

1 Menippus his Madrigal, to his Coy-duck, Clarabell.  
2 Love's Festival at Lust's Funeral.     

Art asleep Husband? A BOLSTER LECTURE, Stored with all variety of witty Jests, merry Tales, and other pleasant passages; extracted from the choicest Flowers of Philosophy, Poesy, ancient and modern History.  

SECTION I. The Excellency of Women in their Creation.  
DIscourses taking life from purest and refinedst Subjects, beget ever in the Reader most affection, in the Hearer most attention. Now, what Subject more pure than that which is of the most affable nature, amiable feature, and pliable temper? A smooth thin skin promiseth (saith the Philosopher) a free and ingenuous disposition: And where shall we find this philosophical Idea, but in a woman? This caused the Oracle to give sentence in a business which highly imported the Spartan State: that the approaching calamity of their principal City could not possibly be diverted, but by scattering the purest dust upon their Altars, which all their country afforded. Upon which Answer, it was long debated, what dust the Oracle meant by, to expiate the fury of the Gods: where, as it ever falls out in affairs of that nature, as many men, so many minds: Some, and those were rich Groundlins', who preferred Wealth before Wit, and esteemed Gold for the most absolute Good; were of opinion that the Oracle meant by the purest dust, the foil of Gold. Others, that no purer dust could be scattered on their Altars, than the ashes of such honest and pious Patriots, who had exposed themselves to whatsoever Fortune could inflict upon them, to secure their Country, and become her safety who bred them. Other mettall-men there were, who closed with that relation of Plutarch; who reporteth, that when Dionysius the Tyrant asked the Wisemen of his Court, which Copper was the best, Antiphon answered very readily, that in his opinion, that was the most excellent, and the dust most restorative, whereof the Athenians had made the pictures of those Tyrants, which, for their Country's delivery from such an insupportable tyranny, Armodius and Aristogyton had dispatched to their succeeding glory. But in the end, making recourse to the most esteemed Sage in all Greece, they were told, that it was the Dust of a Virgin; which was no sooner scattered, than their malady was removed. What excellent Cures have been produced, what happy deliveries effected by these means, may appear every where in the Poets: As in Andromeda, Polyxena, Iphigenia. This confirms that pure mould of a Virgin: that refined dust, or substance of her Composition: reflecting ever upon the Excellency of Women in their Creation. Yet, it may be objected, Man deserves precedency, because in his Creation he had priority. It is confessed: yet might Woman seem (if we may safely incline to the opinion of some Rabbis) to have a preeminence in the manner of her Creation: For whereas Dust gave Man his Composition; Woman took hers from Man's perfection. Yea, but the Matter she was made of, foretell what she would be. She was made of a Crooked Subject, a Rib: and out of her crooked disposition (will some say, who stand ill-affected to the Salic state) she will not stick to tyrannize over a sheepish husband, and give him rib-roast. A poor Objection! An equal and ingenuous exposition would rather frame this conclusion: That the Subject whereof she was made, begot not in her a crookedness, but pliableness of nature: ever ready to bend her will, and apply her affection to the mould of Man: not cruelly to domineer, but constantly to adhere to her Mate. Well did that wisest of Kings observe this; when he so definitely concluded: Where a woman is not, the house groans. This differed much from the opinion of that hard-hearted man, whereof I have sometimes heard this Tale; Who being one day asked by his Neighbour, how it was with him at home, and how his sick wife did, made this answer: Surely, Neighbour, the case is pitiful: my wife she fears she shall die, and I fear she shall not die, which makes an heavy doleful house. Thus grounded they their sorrows upon two contrary fears. That divine Plato, whom even in his cradle Bees fed with honey, to give a presage to his sweet Philosophy; retained a better conceit of so necessary a Consort: When he closed his Desires in this Orison So I may have but my eyes to read with, a mind to conceive, a memory to retain whatsoever▪ I shall read or conceive; and a Woman to serve me, that what necessity shall enjoin, I may seasonably receive, what fortune soever encounter me, though she assail me, she cannot soil me; though she assault me, she cannot foil me. He is a weak Proficient in Philosophy, who enjoying the freedom of his inner house, cannot smile at adversity. When Philogenes heard, how without society the world was a wilderness; The Maxim is true, said he, if you mean a mixed society; without which all Society would soon become a wilderness. But will some harsh Timonist or Women-hater, say; Well had it been for the world, if there had never been an Eve in the world; it was her Consent that brought a stain to the perfection and integrity of our state. Yet for all this, if you will believe that ancient Cabalist, who showed himself an exquisite discourser and discusser of conjectural Causes; he will tell you, that in his opinion, the Woman showed not so much levity in consenting to the Serpent; as the Man did facility in giving ear to the Woman. She expostulated the cause with the Serpent, ere she consented: Whereas he, without any more ado, weakly received, what she so unhappily offered. Howsoever, neither of them are to be excused; the one in not resisting the Serpent's subtlety (an act, no doubt, of greater difficulty;) the other in inclining to the Woman's persuasion, which might have been prevented with more facility.  
What an excellent State accompanies the presence of a goodly Woman? What attractive beauty in the eye? What an admirable disposure in the contexture of every part? So as I cannot sufficiently wonder at the stupidity of that mere Scholastical Wooer; who being in the way of preferment, received a very free welcome from a Gentleman nearly neighbouring, whose aim it was to bring him into acquaintance with a kinswoman of his, hoping it would be a competent advancement for her, by matching them together. All access, which promised all good success, was admitted him; with such opportunity, as might have induced another Zenocrates to enter into a parley of love. But hear how this amorous Scholar acquitted himself, as if his Soul by a strange transmigration had passed into that dull Zenophanes, or Zenophanes into his, in thinking love to be composed of Earth! One winter-evening was this Quintilian with that lovely Damsel left together; purposely (if there were left any beat of love in his pulse) to break the matter unto her. She, poor wench, long expected from this Predicament of fancy some pleasing encounter or other; but nothing was done by this dumb Orator. Stillness there was on both sides, without the least motion; till such time as she playing and toying a little with her foot, appearing a little out of her skirts; she received from her affectionate Scholar, after some fearful pumping, this lovely piece of Rhetoric: Surely Mistress, you have a goodly fair foot, God be praised. How meanly was beauty bestowed, to become an object to his dull fancy, who knew not how to value it? Though, no doubt, with that excellent Geometrician, he could well enough gather by the proportion of her foot, the entire feature; which would wound him as deadly to the heart, as Achilles was wounded in his heel. Nor had that great Graduate any more respect to beauty, when he entertained it with so disjointed and unbeseeming a treaty▪ as being one evening left with a select company of noble Ladies, to bestow some hours in such delightful discourse, as might not cloy the curious palate of so prepared an Audience; suddenly, as one newly awaked from an Endymion slumber, he accosts their gentele ears with this improper Dialect: I have read much Greek, yet read I never what was Greek for a pair of tongues. This unexpected passage was returned with a general jeer; but having the grace not to understand what they laughed at, he held on in his old Philosophical dump, while his impertinent Greek phrase made them merry greeks all that night. Truth is, to a compatible eye nothing more intimately moving than Beauty; nor any Lecture working more to mortality, than deformity. For these Anagrams to good faces are such impressive stamps; as some have made of them wonderful use. Deformiores afficiunt, quo formosiores minùs alliciant. They affected only to converse with Deformity, that they might have less familiarity with Beauty. Now, if such use might be made of the rubbish, what might be expected from a purer mettle? Reflect then a little upon this Idea; imagine with yourself that such a piece were drawn and presented to the full body, which might as really enamour and captivate the Senses; as ever Io, Danae, or Semele, did their jupiter; or any other amorous feature entranced a poetical Lover. It is the eye that conveys love to the heart; Curious Models to dull Spectators, move small admiration, and consequently leave but a weak impression. To see a Campaspe portrayed in her colours; her veins ●nazured; her sweet smiles shadowed; her ●ove-enthralling eyes sparkled; and all these with a native Art, and artful colour displayed, would make their Apelles to do what he did: Whence we read, that Alexander, that world's Monarch, not only affecting, but admiring the Art of Apelles; to parallel his skill with an equal subject; commanded him on a time to paint Campa●pe naked, who was then held the beauty of that age; which Apelles having done, his Pencil purchased him a pensive heart, fal●ing in love with her who was his Picture, and whose love he despaired to compass ever: which Alexander having perceived, he gave him her. The like incomparable Art was shown by Zeuxes, upon the beauties of Croton's five Daughters; which Pictures took more hearts, than his Grapes had before deceived Birds. But lest that Apelles, of whom I have spoke so much, as one regardless of his own praise, should find fault with me, as sometimes he did with Protogenes, for that he could not hold his hand from the Table; (A right English fault, I must confess, whose fate and fault it hath been ever, not to leave their work when it was well, nor their game when it was at fairest:) I intent to pass from the Picture to the Feature: making mention of such remarkable occurrents, as hold good relation to our Discourse: and what may tender any conceiving Reader, variety of delight.  
I have sometimes read written in a window with a Diamond, by one, it seemed▪ who was not settled in his Choice, but like a wanton-wavering Wooer, had fixed on many Objects, but on none such as yet he could like; these lines: 
If I might choose, I know not which were best,  
She that is naked, or is neatly dressed.  Which lines in another pane of the window directly opposite to the former, I found thus answered: 
If I might choose, I'd have her such an one,  
As she was first created, bone on bone:  
And in that naked-native posture have her,  
When th'Serpent with an Apple did deceive her.  It seems he would have had her as she was in her integrity and perfection: but at that time, I must tell him, though she were naked, she nor any other could not then discover it. Her unspotted Innocence became her garment of Purity and brightness. No Fig-leaves then needed; nor any Covert to shroud her from his sight, whom she afterwards offended. But it may be his wanton thoughts gave themselves more liberty. His wish was to have one naked, to enjoy without delay, what his heart so much affected. But loose desires are to be barred by and main from true Love's lists. Sensual Love finds ever the shortest period in pleasure. That only promiseth a continuate delight, which grounds her affection on Reason rather than Sense. Where, though Sin can never be without a short perfunctory delight, yet may there (probably) be delight arising from the proclivity of Sense, without much Sinne. Which makes me call to mind a Tale which I have heard, not altogether improper for this Argument; and it was this. There was sometimes a Maid of admired beauty and approved fame, who, after a long and straight Siege of a garrison Town wherein she dwelled, became exposed with other Virgins to the violence and fury of the Soldiers. One of these, having deflowered this Maid, demanded of her how she felt herself? Oh, quoth she, never had poor distressed Maid more pleasure with less sin. Meaning, that as the Act was far from her consent, so it was free from sin, which is ever accompanied with consent. For whatsoever is forced, is from the Will estranged; without which, sin cannot properly be said to be committed. This the Ancient Vestals received for authentic: Who, though they were by the strictness of their votive Order, never to infringe that sacred Vow which they had professed: nor consort with any, that might beget suspicion of a loose affection: yet if the extremity of War should engage that encloystered Society to the Soldier's fury; they were exempted from censure; adjudgeing their resolves to be pure; inviolated their Vows, though enforced acts had distained their honour: yet were they not to return to their former Order: for they held Vesta dishonoured by such a Sister.  
But you, brave English Ladies, whose happiness it is to close both your actions and affections in one pure Orb; you, whose immixed thoughts, cannot partake of an irregular love; nor can sort with a subject of lightness; nor labour to attract a stranger's love with a luring eye; nor imparadise a deluded Amorist with a dissembling favour; nor confine a light Passengers eye to a loose-displayed breast; nor soveraignise over a captived Lover, in holding his aye me's your best melody; nor to open your windows to get suitors; nor to offer your first Sacrifice to your Glass, or Ceruse box. You, I say, who hold Reputation such an unvaluable Gem, as an Empire should not command it; nor the extremes of Fortune, even unto death, impeach it. You, who with much confidence can say with that Heroic Princess, I know how to die, but not to lose mine honour. You, in whose chaste breasts, as in precious Cabinets of selectedst virtues, are stored all graces: such, who hold in their highest scorn to converse with a light favourite, or to be solicited in such a Suit as may detract from your honour. You, I say, are those fair and noble Patronesses, to whom I address this Labour. You are none of our Curtain Lecturers, who disquiet the rest of your Husbands. Nor know you how to call them up into the Garret, to give them gentle correction. You have a better, and far more gentele way to reclaim them. Mild and temperate be your Reasonings; wooing and winning be your tears; and after a virtuous and well-composed treaty, you are ready to close with them upon such fair terms, as the penance you enjoin them is no suffering; for your sweet-tempered Natures choose rather to suffer with them. far unlike to that Shrew, who meeting her husband amongst other good fellows at a Tavern door, and seeing him bear the Badge of that red-faced Ensign from whence he came; after many words of disgrace and reproach, willed him to go mend his colour, pale-faced Rascal as he was. No; your education has better improved you; your inbred graces more highly ennobled you; your tender care of your husbands esteem so truly informed you, as you prise nothing more than to preserve it untainted; or if at any time questioned, constantly to defend it. In which respect, you differ far from that shrewd Girl, who having taken occasion of displeasure at her husband, told him plainly one day, That since he had played her that prank, he would confess ere long, that the Sign was in Aries when they two were married. But for you, unblemished Beauties, who hold nothing comparably precious to a continent Soul: as your minds become devoted wholly to goodness: so you must give me leave to interveine my Discourse with others of your Sex, who fall so far short of your perfection, as it might seem strange to reason, that one and the same Mould should produce Subjects of such different Natures. For as much then, as Contraries, when most opposed, are best discovered: And that Venus Picture never showed more beauty, than when it was accompanied by Naïs' deformity; to revive the living memory of your Honours, we intent to bring upon the Stage (though closed from vulgar eyes by a Curtain) the too forward discourses of such, who distemper their Husband's quiet with their conventual Lectures, and that at uncanonical hours, to the great disturbance of private peace, and ill example of all young-married Couples. Nor can this be holden for invective: The reproof of those that are evil, cannot but highly improve the behaviour of those who are good. And in all ages, as Harvests have their Miscellave grains, so have we ever had and must have, severally-mixt Conditions. Rome had many eminent families; from whence were derived Matrons adorned with exquisite virtues. Octavia, Porcia, Caecilia, Cornelia, all famous Matrons, whose succeeding virtues were left for imitable mirrors to their Successors. Yet in that Age, wherein Moral goodness was in most request, and wherein nothing was esteemed better, than to live and die to their Country's honour; that flourishing City, the Princess of many renowned States, had an impatient Flavia, as well as a discreet Octavia; a wanton Laelia, as well as a Continent Cornelia; an immodest Semphronia, aswel as a shame-fast Scribonia; a Faustina, as well as a Cinna; a Messalina, as well as a Cincinna.  
Now to insist more usefully on this Subject; we have proposed to ourselves to enter into a Discourse of four distinct Motives to affection: which in their own nature beget affection; but inverted, express to life their owner's disposition. The first shall be Beauty; a Pearl in the eye, and a Pinion to the heart: The second, Agility of body; which begets in the owner a desire of liberty. The third, Quickness of Wit; which, being not well seasoned, ofttimes breeds occasion of distaste. The fourth, Gentleness of Speech; an excellent Ornament, and worth entertaining, if it be not shrouded or palliated with dissembling.  
To the first then, because every graceful accomplishment or perfection falling from itself, declines from what it was, and presents some dangerous imperfection which before it had not, we oppose Disdain, being found for most part an individual Adjunct to Beauty.  
To the second we oppose Liberty: for what youthful bodies, unless Mortification hath confined and impaled their affections, by devoting them to retirement, in affecting a Collegiate or Cloystrall life in their very first ripening of Nature, but being of Ability, they desire Liberty?  
To the third, we oppose Distaste. For Quick and prompt Wits, if they be not with discretion seasoned, they become so freely licentious, as they lose more friends than they purchase.  
To the fourth and last, we oppose Dissimulation; a quality whereto our Whitest tongues are commonly subject. Of each of these we purpose to Discourse in order, ever giving Beauty her due character, when she is Virtue's follower: And to allay more serious discourse with other pleasing passages of wit: you shall find each of these Subjects accompanied with choice Tales▪ such as may beget a modest laughter; and from equal judgements receive a fair Censure.  

BEAUTY.  
BEAUTY is a pleasing Object to the eye, 
MOTIVE 1.  improved by the apprehension of Fancy, and conveyed to the heart by the Optic part. If the Owner that enjoys it, know it: it begets in her a disesteem and contempt of inferior features. None can serve Echo but Narcissus. What a scornful eye she casts upon common persons, or a Plebeian presence? She could find in her heart to be angry with the wind, for dealing so roughly with her veil, or ho●sing up her skirts; and scourge those Aeolian scouts for being so saucy. She wonders that Venus should be for a Goddess recorded, and she never remembered. When she sees our countrey-Beauties, with a scornful pity she looks on them, and returns her judgement thus:" Alas, poor homespun beauties! A civil requisite curtsy she will not deagne to bestow on more deserving lips than her own: with a seeming averseness she forgets that winning salute of those Noble Trojan Ladies; holding it too high a favour to afford a lip to the compleatest Lover. This that passionate Amorist well discovered in this Canto: 

Beauteous was She, but too coy,  
Glorious in her tires and toys,  
But too wayward for that Boy,  
Who in Action Sphered his joys.  
Love-tales she could deagne to hear,  
And relate them week by week,  
But to kiss when you came near,  
Lip was turned into the cheek.   

Beauty that is too precise,  
Though it should attractive be,  
Darting beamelins from her eyes,  
'Twere no Adamant to me:  
She it is I only love,  
She it is I only seek,  
That does bill it like a Dove,  
And will make her lip her cheek.   

Honour is a rising bait,  
But not rudely to be pulled;  
Give me Her at any rate,  
Who loves to be kissed and culled:  
Country Ducks scorn to be nice  
To those Swains their fancy seek,  
Though their honour they do prize,  
Lippe they tender, not their cheek.   

Thus can Shepherd's Swainlings love,  
And express what they desire;  
Live to love, and love to prove  
Height and h●at of Cupid's fire.  
When a Sill●bub they make  
While their youngsters woe and seek  
For their love, they may partake  
Of their lip as well as cheek.    
Now did that incensed Gentleman show less passion upon the like regreet from a disdainful Lady▪ whose long practice in painting, and delicate tooth together, had so corrupted her breath, as Cocytus could not have a worse savour. 
A Lady gave me once her cheek to kiss,  
Being no less than I myself did wish:  
For this I'll say, and bind it with an oath,  
Her cheek tastes sweeter far than do'e's her mouth.  But there is nothing so much discovereth the vain Pride of these Beauties, as a coyness to their Servants in their wooing and winning. If they affect you, that affection must be so shrouded and shadowed, as Lynceus eyes could not disclose it. Walk from them, their eyes are on you; walk to them, their eyes are from you. There is no argument, be it never so well-relishing, nor sorting with their liking, that they will give ear to: no posture, be it never so graceful, they will afford an eye to. Opposition suiteth best with their condition. To a stranger they will show themselves familiar; to you, whose intimacy hath got a room in their hearts, they will seem a stranger. If you appear merry, it must be expounded trifling childishness; if grave, Stoic sullenness. It were a gift above apprehension, in every particular to fit their humour. And yet they must be humoured, or they are lost for ever. This would make any man think, if he cast his cards aright, that a man's only sweet Bed-fellow, were a Bed without a fellow. But that would spoil all humane society: better an inconvenience than a mischief: better one perish, than a multitude. Beauty is no such Phoenix, as she can generate from her own ashes. Suppose her then (disdainful thing) resolved to take one (though with a queasy stomach;) and such an one, as of all her choice she could not entertain a worse. And this youth she rather affects, because all her friends dis-relish him: For she measures not her Love by others discretion, nor her fancy by the line of others direction. She is too wise to be taught; and if she repent, it shall be at leisure: and if she have cause to put finger ith'eye, she will choose rather to die, than discover it to any other. Yet for all this, through a seeming indifferency and coldness of affection, the marriage-day must be protracted by them, till they cannot endure Whale-bone, becoming as Pregnant as Nature could make them. This makes me remember the Tale of the Western Pedlar; who, having one daughter, was sought after by many amorous Suitors: but one amongst the rest she preferred in her choice: feeding his longing appetite with hopes, and following her father's course, who had got in his time as much by Consideration as Principal; told him ever and anon that she would consider of it: till at last her Consideration falling into a Conception, and being asked the selfsame question, she never returned any other than that she would still take it into her Consideration: Oh, quoth her Suitor, being guilty of the Bill▪ consider your pregnant present state, and your Consideration, Comater, comes too late.  
But of all others, there is nothing to be admired more in this their trifling with Love, than those nice conditions they stand upon; which, though their hearts stand indifferent, whether they be ever observed or no; they will peremptorily conclude, without assent to such conditions, no Bargain. Now, the principal Article must be, that He who is pricked to be the man, must hold his Distance: Too much familiarity breeds contempt; and to avoid this: He must observe a kind of reverend state in her presence; Give her way in all arguments of discourse: And for as much as her brave disposition retains in itself thoughts of Majesty, she must have her Side for herself and her women, or what Male she pleaseth; divided Beds; seasons of repairing one to another; that every new visit may seem a fresh kind of wooing. In which Encounter, as he is to show himself importunate in his Suit, so is his spouse to show herself reluctant to his desires. But the issue proves fearful: for her long practice of Sovereignty over his weakness, brings this Fair one to that pass; as she begins to distaste him. Though the man be tolerable for his part, and of promising satisfaction, she cannot brook him; yet if you should ask her the cause, it is only this; He is her Husband. Like that great favourite Flaviano, who having taken to wife a noble Florentine Lady; grew in short time to dislike her: and being asked the reason why he could not affect her, being every way so brave and complete a Lady? I grant, said he, her parts deserve love; and as I live, there is none breathing that I could more constantly love, did she not bear that name which I so much loath: and being further demanded, what name that was? O, replied he with a sigh, A Wife!  
Neither for all this would I have you to mistake me, as if I restrained affection only to Beauty: for I have known Fancy taken as much, though not so often, with Deformity, as ever it was with Beauty. Yea, One in whom not so much as the least glimpse or show of favour appeared, has wrought no less impressive Effects in the heart of a deluded Lover, than if she had been the Astrophel of the age; which the Poet seems to confirm by his own personal experience: 
Naïs' I love, and most men wonder why,  
For none sees aught worth love in her but I  To close then this first Subject; as it was Socrates rule to his Scholars, to present unto them their outward physnomies in a Glass: where, if any of them were of a pleasing and amiable complexion, his exhortation to them was, that so good faces should not be blemished with the moles of Vices; but as they were outwardly beautiful, so they should be inwardly graceful: But if any of his Scholars chanced to be hard-favoured, his advice was, that they should supply that deformity with an inward beauty. Be it your care on whom Nature hath so freely bestowed her bounty; by adorning you with a graceful presence, to second it with those inward graces, which give accomplishment to the best beauty. And though the purest cloth may have his brack; the preciousest pearl her flaw: if any such inherent blemish darken those inward graces, be it your endeavour to rectify that error by a timely censure: that bestowing more cost on the Instrument, than the Case; on the pith, than the rind: That Gem which be●ore seemed blemished, may be so polished; as others induced to imitate your pattern, like lines leading to one centre, may desire nothing more than to be your Followers, in whom they see both an inward and outward Fair so harmoniously closing together. And so I descend from this attractive object of Beauty, to that humour, or opinionate error, which most commonly accompanies it, and ever detracts most from it.   

DISDAIN.  
THe several passages throughout this entire Section, are partly extracted from Ariosto, Tasso, Boc●act, Rheginus, A●●aeus, etc. And intended by them to cast a glowing shame upon those times wherein they lived: and on those persons at whom they aimed. Meaning by these lighter Stories to reprove their lightness; and not to introduce any corruption of manners. This it was that reduced those Epyrotes and Laconians to such strict civil Order, by presenting those Obscrenities of the time in so free a posture, as by a discreet recollection of themselves, they became ashamed of their Error: which Retractation in few years highly conduced to their honour. And this it was which the Poet so nearly struck upon in these enlivened airs: 
It is our best of Art, sometimes to write  
Light lines to tax such persons as be light,  
And with a glowing and vermilion shame  
To make them be more cautious of their fame:  
Which once impeached can hardly be regained,  
So deep a die holds reputation stained.   
DISDAIN is an humour bred from an overweening opinion or self-conceit of some extraordinary worth, 
OPPOSITE 1.  arising from person, place, or power. Personal, as from outward gifts, or inward graces; Local, as from office or dignity; Magisteriall, as from power or authority. Of the First are we only to discourse; for Official or Magisteriall Government suits not properly with our feminine regiment.  
It was an excellent argument of a noble disposition in that brave Lady Marcelles, who gave this attestation of her Sex and Country, to her own fame and national glory. It is not the property of an Italian Lady, to answer Love with scorn, or fancy with Disdain. If our Servants oblation be love, we can sacrifice to them the like. This Lady, though admired for her beauty, scorned with Disdain to entertain fancy; or to glory in the distress of a dispassionate Lover: or to relate amongst creatures of her own Sex what disgraces she had put on her discarded Servant. In which Triumph both former and present times have been sufficiently practised. Our renounedst Heroës have found store of such coy Mistresses. Fulvia knew how to domineer over her Pompey; Cleopatra, in the infancy of their love, over her M. Antony; Cressida over her Troilus; Helena, (to the subversion of a populous State) over her Menelaus; Phedra over her Theseus; Omphale over her Alcides. These knew the strength of their beauty; and what power there was in one amorous glance to inchain Fancy. These were so far from avoiding occasion to tempt, as their only exercise was to catch wand'ring eyes; and to lay baits by adulterate beauties, how they might surprise an effeminate Servant, and make his life a perpetual servitude. Although, they encountered with some, from whom they received a repulse with shame. For even that princely Cleopatra, who had all the Art to procure love: and whose presence retained that winning Majesty, as State contended with Beauty, and closing together, promised no less than over the victoriou'st Monarch a commanding Sovereignty: when she, I say, after the discomfiture of her Antony, and her then approaching period to her former glory, kneeled at the feet of Caesar, laying baits for his eyes; but in vain; her beauties were beneath that Prince's chastity. Others we might here instance; who were so far from Disdain; as rather than they would be an occasion to tempt another by means of beauty, they choosed to disfigure themselves to remove all motives to Fancy. And of this Moderation, (or if you please to bestow on it so graceful a Title as Mortification) we might here produce examples, and those memorable in both Sexes. Incredible is the Story which Valerius Maximus reporteth of that young man Sputimia, whose beauty did so incomparably become him, as it occasioned many women to lust after him: which this noble youth no sooner perceived, than he wounded his face, that by the Scar he sustained, his beauty might become more blemished, and consequently, all occasion of lusting after it, clearly removed.  
The like resolution showed many noble Ladies, during those raging persecutions, where neither vidual, conjugal, nor virgin estate, were they never so much strengthened with modesty, nor magnanimity, could oppose themselves against Soldier's fury, nor Tyrant's insolency. Where, woe shall find some flying, in defence of their honour, to desert and remote caves; choosing rather to become a prey to wild beasts, than to expose their unblemished honour to the Barbarous cruelty of savage Miscreants. These found a hand ever ready to strike, to prevent a stain: preferring an honourable death before an ignominious life. This might be instanced, with much admiration, in that one act of the incomparable Chiomara, a constant Consort to an unfortunate Prince; who upon discomfiture of the Gallo-Graecians (a Province so styled from her mixed inhabitants) being ravished by a Roman Captain, gave a memorable example of conjugal virtue; for she cut off the fellows head from his shoulders, and escaping from her Guard, brought it to her Lord and Husband.  
Others we shall likewise find, purposely to preserve their honour, discolouring their faces, to make them seem more deformed to the insolent Soldier. There was nothing more hateful to them than that beauty, which might probably engage their persons to an act of infamy. To these I might add that excellent saying of a religious Votaress, who understanding one to be much enamoured of her, called him aside and told him: Sir, I honour you so much, as I have chosen rather to suffer, than by my beauty to make you a prisoner: Wherewith discovering her face, in complexion much altered, by some colours which she had caused to be laid upon it: he vowed to relinquish his suit, imagining that she had poisoned her face, to wain him from his affection. This he had no sooner said, than she ran to a spring near adjoining to wash it off: See, said she, I am the same I was; but you are much better: for now you are brought to see your error, in being so much taken with a skin-deepe beauty, which only consists in die and colour.  
But, howsoever that memorable Marcelles, of whom we formerly made so honourable a mention, seemed in defence both of herself and Sex, to inveigh against Disdain; holding it the most unwomanly quality that could be, to have an heart steeled against the persuasions of an affectionate Servant: Ariosto, that ingenious Poet, can inform us sufficiently of many hard-hearted Ladies in Italy; who prided themselves in nothing more, than to make their unhappy Lovers, Tragic Subjects: while Some of them raved with Orestes, transforming Fancy to a frenzy; and amongst many other, whose heavy Fates brought them to unhappy ends; he brings in three distressed Lovers murdered with Disdain: The first, as well as the rest, under a borrowed name, he calls Infeliche: who to discover his infelicity, and make his name and fate partake in one quality, is presented weeping, and so long till he has left no eyes to shed a tear. The next, is his Inamorato, whose Disdainful choice brought him to that disaster, as he vowed with an intentive fixing of his eyes upon the Sunbeams, day by day, never to look off that Object, till the reflex of the Sun had consumed his sight. The third, his Desperato; one who scorned to protract time, or make truce with Death: for upon his Ladies scornful answer, as one Despairing of all future fortune, because estranged from her favour; he leaps headlong from a Rock; which gave a period to his unhappy love.  
Disdain then, it seems, hath soveraignized in every country: while poor distressed Lovers, rest of all hope, abandoned health, rather than live a languishing life. So as, being so far embarked in this subject, I must needs in this place acquaint you with a Letter, writ, it may well seem, by a perplexed homespun Lover; who impatient to admit any other compliment in his lines, than what might to life best depaint his sorrow, proceedeth thus:  
DEarest Duckling, be it known to you, and to all People, that I have pissed blood three days and three nights since I last saw you, and received that unwomanly relentless answer from you: so as your harsh and untoward quality was the only cause (blink-eyed Cupid forgive you) of this my misery and malady. Let it now suffice you, that I am utterly undone by you: while I live to subscribe (and loath am I to live such a Scribe)  
Your most unfortunate Servant.  
No less rueful was the case of that pitifully-complaining Lover, who discovered his Judaical passion in this manner: 
I loved a Wench, and she a coy Precisian,  
Her scorn of love brought me to Circumcision;  
If Circumcision be the way to woe,  
I would my Wench had my Praeputium too.  
But since my Choice makes me an hapless man,  
England adieu, I'm now for Amsterdam:  
Where I may find what here I cannot move,  
Affection in a Family of Love.  Though afterwards repenting himself of such a rash resolution, he salves it with this conclusion: 
Yet my Coy-duck, take my resolve with you;  
" Loss of no Jewel can make me turn Jew:  
But if you'll have a Circumcised one,  
" My foreskin only shall be yours or none.  
The Lowest, but not unloyall'st of your Servants.   
far less hot in his Love, but more discreet in his Choice, appeared that Signior; who having pretended love to a Shrew, though she seemed a Sheep, fell so highly in her books, as in the end she became a Solicitor to her Suitor, importuning him much to marry her; to whom in a poetical strain he returned this answer, covertly shadowed under the person of another: 
My Wench o'er me presuming to have power,  
Willed me go with her hand in hand to th' Tower.  
For what, said I? To close our marriage rite;  
No, to see th' Lions, 'twere a better sight:  
For th' Lion, Tiger, Leopard, Panther, Bear,  
Are all meek Creatures to my Minivere.  Closing the aversion of his love with this resolve: 
I'd rather cope with Lions in a Grate,  
Than in a Bed with my imperious Kate.   
One more I will only here insert, and so descend to the next subject: which I have occasionally heard related of a wanton widow, who scornfully and in a jeering way, disclosed that Disdain which she lodged in her heart. An ancient Bachelor, who had been ignorant before, what the working of Love was, or what effects it produced; having had formerly good access to her house in her husband's time; which promised him, as he thought, no less success now after his death: made one day suit to this widow; she, neither gave him great hope, nor any just cause to despair. And thus his cold suit continued, till she falling aboard with a more amiable and affectionate Suitor; one, whose rising-youth both seconded her expectance, and promised more performance: One day, amongst the rest, upon more familiarity betwixt them, she began to acquaint him how such a Batchlers-button had her in chase, and if his arguments did not dissuade her, for aught she knew, she meant to make him her Choice. This she never intended, for her affection begun now to be free towards this active youth; and to scorn nothing more, than a doublet with a Monsieurs Belly; a pair of Trunk-hose; an inclining ham, and a mouted beard; for so was this old Bachelor accommodated. Notwithstanding all this, her young choice feared much to suffer a defeat; which to prevent, so soon as he came to his chamber, rapt with a poetic fury, or amorous fancy, he addresseth these Lines unto her: 

DORICLES to DULCINA.  
Dear, where is thy discretion to engage  
Thy matchless beauty to decrepit age?  
Dew-dropping Violets hang down their head,  
When their prime Leaves are too much moistened;  
But thy pure-featured Orb shall never find  
Any such pearled moisture in a Rind.  
Believe me, Sweet, no colour may beseem  
Thy Virgin-veile worse than a Frost on green.    
This Letter sent and delivered to her hand, who had already devoted her heart; the selfsame day she chanced to leave it upon the drawing-cupboord, while she went into her Orchard to take a walk: Her overworn wooer, as one impatient of longer delay, came, as it happened, that same time into her chamber, as he was formerly accustomed to do; where finding this Letter open, and directed with an amorous inscription, he dispensed so far with civility, and her patience, now in her absence, as to peruse the contents: which did not a little nettle him: howbeit, to shroud all things with as much secrecy as he could, he held it discretion; and to discover no passion, till he saw further occasion. While he stood thus conversing with his own thoughts: The Mistress of his thoughts came in, never so much as suspecting the discovery of her friend's Letter. After some conference betwixt them, he renews his suit, and with the best Rhetoric that the Terms of Law could afford, he enforceth his love-plea; but his long impertinent preamble was soon cut short with this tart answer: Sir, quoth she, for you to spin Penelope's web, is to no purpose: it were well you fixed your affection some other way; for I must freely tell you, I have vowed that no Gray-horse shall ever stand more in my stable. To which unexpected answer, he returned this resolute reply: And I vow, fair Mistress, that I prefer this conceit before yourself. Which said, without more sollicitancy of love, he took his leave. But coming home, and remembering the Letter, which he verily thought was the argument which gave life to her answer; he held it fit, under an unknown name, to return that young Gamester a reply; which, after many invocations of his Melpomene, the fittingst consort for loves melancholy, he addressed in this modest manner: 

SENE●IO'S Answer.  

Thou that of youth dost vainly boast,  
Know, Buds are soon nipped with frost:  
Though thou be fresh, more fair than I;  
Yet stumps do live, when flowers die.   

Though thou be young, and I be old,  
Though thy veins hot, and my blood cold,  
Though youth be moist, and age be dry;  
Yet Embers live, when flames do die.   

The tender Plant is easily broke,  
But who can shake the sturdy Oak?  
Think thou thy fortune still doth cry,  
O fool, to morrow, thou mayst die.     
But having thus far discovered the effects of Disdain; and displayed the danger of this Humour with variety of instances, to afford more solace to the Reader, I purpose now to descend, in the same methodical way, to the rest of the Subjects, as they shall arise in order.   

AGILITY OF BODY.  
AGILITY of body proceedeth from a quickness or vivacity of spirit, 
MOTIVE 2.  enlivened by a sweet and equal temperature of the Humours. This appeared in the exact temperature of that Universal Monarch, the invincible Alexander: whose body was of that excellent composition, as like a sweet perfume, or some odoriferous confection, it sent forth a sweet smell wheresoever it was. The like we read of that beautiful Alcibiades, whom Plutarch reports, to be the best favoured Boy in all Athens; one of such Agility, as he bore away the prize in every mastery: of a winning complexion, and performing constitution. Albeit, he was never more outwardly beautified, than he was by too free and frequent consorting with his Courtesan Timandra, blemished. His fair face begot him a foul fame. His Agility of body, the gage of infamy. Agile and active women we read of in all Ages; such as even in in public managements of war, showed themselves both for spirit and action to surpass the effeminacy of their Sex. This might we instance in that warlike Semiramis, the puissant Thomyris, the undaunted Menalippe, the courageous Antiope, the heroïck Hippolyta.  
In the Empire of Monomotapa, bounding upon the Kingdom of Congo, among all the rest of the Emperor's Soldiers, the most valorous in name are his Legions of women, whom he esteemeth very highly, and accounteth them as the very sinews and strength of his military forces. These women do burn their left paps with fire, because they should be no hindrance unto them in their shooting; after the use and manner of the ancient Amazons, that are so greatly celebrated by the Historiographers of former profane memories. For their weapons, they practise bows and arrows: They are very quick and swift, lively and courageous, very cunning in shooting; but especially and above all, venturous and constant in fight. And that their Prowess might be seconded by Policy: In their battles they use a warlike kind of craft and subtlety: For they have a custom to make a show that they would fly and run away, as though they were vanquished and discomfited; but they will divers times turn themselves back, and vex their enemies mightily with the shot of their arrows. And when they see their Adversaries so greedy of the victory, that they begin ●o disperse and scatter themselves, then will they suddenly turn again upon them, and with great courage and fierceness make a cruel slaughter of them. So that partly with their swiftness, and partly with their deceitful wiles, and other cunning shifts of war, with which long custom and continuance have made them familiar, they are greatly feared in all those parts near which they inhabit: retaining in them those masculine spirits, as they hold it not sufficient only to defend their own, unless they enlarge it by their Enemy's spoil.  
They do enjoy by the King's good favour certain Countries where they dwell alone by themselves: and sometimes they choose certain men at their own pleasure, such as best likes them both for favour and feature, with whom they do keep company for generations sake: So that▪ if they bring forth Male-childrens, they send them home to their father's houses: but if they be Female, they reserve them to themselves, and breed them in the exercise of war.  
So lightly do they affect any sensual pleasure, as they would not admit it, were it not to preserve Society: and to continue their flourishing Feminine government to a succeeding Posterity.  
But we are to find other exercises for these Agile Bodies; yet modestly; not such as that Soil to her Sex, the insatiate Messalina practised in her Antonine Baths. These would strike a glowing shame in a chaste cheek. Nor will we receive into the List of our Discourse, the least mention of any hard-hearted woman; for our Pen is addressed rather to pencile their praise, than detract any way from their fame. For what, though some women have bestowed their Agility only upon Cruelty, tyrannising above the softness or delicacy of their Sex; Every Lark may have his crest (to use that old proverb of Simonides) but every wench hath not the same mole, though the same mould. What though Orpheus were torn in pieces by women? Hippolytus guiltlessly murdered by a woman? Hercules' poisoned by a woman? The Capitol betrayed by a woman? Few or none of all these acts, but with an e●sy exposition, might admit Apologies. For first, what those women did to Orpheus, might upon the first glance seem cruelty; yet he may thank himself for effeminating their youth with his melody; the only moving Scene which brought on his Tragedy. Next, for Phedra, though her f●●t admit the worst Apology; had she not loved so much, she had not become so wild. The lover is ever blinded, nay madded with affection towards the object beloved. It is not given to us, to love and to be wise. Discretion is admitted for a Directrice in all affairs, excepting love: yea, though the Object of her love was unjust: Love hath always challenged a privilege in acts of Justice. Thirdly, for Deianira's poisoning of her dearest Hercules; alas, if there were poison in too much affection; she was guilty of it: render her, as she was, deluded. Glad would she have been to enjoy him solely, by weining him from his unlawful love of Omphale. There was no venom in this. Though the issue proved fatal; firm was her faith, her love loyal. Lastly, though that treacherous Tarpeia might be as strongly charged with Censures, as she was pressed down with Targets: All Historians are not of one opinion, touching the moving cause of her Treason. It was not hope of gold, nor of bracelets, but the affectionate embraces of an amorous youth, who had already surprised her heart, and why not then by her means, as well the Capitol?  
Nor is it discretion, as I conceive, in man to reflect upon these, by way of aspersion. None ever of their Sex committed so foul a crime, as to burn Diana's Temple, and that was done by the masculine spirit of an Herostratus. None amongst them so treacherous, as to betray their own Lady, to usurp an unjust sovereignty; yet was this done by a Nabarzanes. None so cruel, as to imbrue their hands in the blood of their own Alliance for filthy gain; yet was this done by Pygmalion upon Sycheus. Idaea, indeed, was cruel in persuading her Phineus, Aegenors' unfortunate son, and Arcadies unhappy Prince, to put out his children's eyes, which he had by his first wife Cleopatra: but if she were cruel in persuading, he was more unnatural in consenting. Tullia, indeed, showed herself an unnatural child, in causing her chariot to be hurried over the dead corpse of her discomfited father: yet was her usurping Tarquin as unjust, to plant his Empire in blood, which shortly expired to his dishonour. In these then, let us hold both Sexes, as equal delinquents.  
But these Agile bodies are none of those Bona-roba's that we are now to converse with: Cleopatra's Pearle-broths, and licentious banquets become our Subjects. We must present such active spirits, as were those of Penthisilaea's and Antiope's, who in an amorous encounter would mee● their brave metalled Macedons, and return with equally-conferred favours, equal honours.  
These were Ladies, who had never taken Physic to restore their decayed strength, nor been in custom with their Apothecary for a Potion to procure love, or a Powder to enable nature. Nature had given them that strength, as no Art could improve their state. Suppose them then coming in pairs, to receive their first fruits. But you must imagine them withal, taking the air, tracing the fields, and traversing the diapered meads, where they are as ready to take as give: To take a Green-gowne, as to give a Syllabub: for if you should bar them of Liberty, they could find small employment for Agility of body.   

LIBERTY.  
LIBERTY points at two Objects properly, 
OPPOSITE 2.  Mind, and Body. The former, the better, because purer. For restraint of Mind is a miserable servitude. For the other, many suffer restraint of Body, who fully and freely enjoy inward Liberty. This the Noble Pibrach proveth in his Paradox of Liberty, with the benefit of imprisonment to a Mind winged with Contemplations heavenly. Which that restrained Lyric no less merrily chanted: 
Good men and true, will you be pleased to come  
And see a man laid in a living Tomb?  
Come, you shall find me here, and finding see  
My cause is good, however it fare with me.  
For I am none of these that e'er did feed  
(Like Bankrupt Brats, who break before they need)  
On others substance, and do make a prey  
Of simple Snakes, that are more poor than they.  Annexing these as a sovereign receipt to his undeserved restraint: 

Nec me meavincula terrent.  He that thinks I'm restrained, whosoever he be,  
Let him know this, I am as free as he:  
For though my Body be restrained, I find 

Carcere clausa suam modulatur avicula sortem.  
— Sic Carcere canto.    
An unrestrained freedom in my mind;  
" Birds in a cage sing with a sorry heart,  
" But ay do feel no such thing for my part.   
We are to hold then many free, who are bound; many bound, who are free. Those who are engaged to Earth, hold nothing more miserable, than to suffer restraint of body; the reason is, all their Lights and Liberties look outward: whereas those, who make Heaven their Haven, find no calm but in a composed mind: no freedom, but in their Inner-roome. But the Creatures, whereof we are now to discourse, being carried away much by Sense, crave nothing more than outward Liberty; without which, how should they enjoy the benefit of their darling Sense? For they hold Agile bodies no fit stuff to make Hermits. But admit, they should be cooped up, the Cat, for want of a Consort, will play with her own tail. As that nimble Monkey in Cheapside did; who playing her Tricks. above, while her husband was selling his trinkets below: made an assay to lay her heel on her neck; which she did; but like the Weasil in the Fable, could not get it back again: till at last, after long struggling, falling out a bed upon the floor, her husband affrighted with the noise, caused his Foreman to run up stairs to know what the matter was: who returning back, assured his Master, that she was either bewitched, or turned into an Ou beast.  
Liberty is the very key that opens to Opportunity: which must be had; for a kind natured wench will see light thorough a small hole; yea, and with twirling of their Apron-string, have as ready an answer, if at any time taken napping, as if a longer time had given them provision.  
The Tale of a countrey-maid, (for our Stories must fix on all Sexes, States, and Places) falls pat to this purpose: Who, when her Mother found her suspiciously in a corner with a young man: O mother (quoth she) I knew where you would seek me! But she fitted her mother afterwards with a pennyworth; for being hopeless of all opportunity, by reason of her mother's jealousy, she comes in running one day crying, - hay Ginger, hay— What means the Girl, quoth her mother? why, Swine are in our Pease, mother,— hay Ginger, hay. The Mother suspected nothing, but bade the carrian make haste with a wenian; which she needed not, for she and Ginger went to meet her sweetheart in a Pease-rigge, where, no doubt, before she returned, she found them fully codded.  
The like Tale there is of a Goodwife, who being found by her husband in bed with her Neighbour; told him, that she did it for love of him, to save him a labour, and withal, to know whether other men had a stone at rig, as he had, which made her suspect him for a Monster. 
Boccase.   
The Tale of the Court-gentlewoman (to make a fair survey of City, Court, and Country) may take place in the next Story: Who being found in a long dark entry with a young Cavalier: Her answer was, That in good-sooth, there came such a damp before her eyes, such a beating in her Pulse, such a working on her Sense, and such a shaking Palsy thorough every part, as she verily thought, it was some Spirit that wrought on her weakness: neither durst she cry, lest she should scare the Spirit.  
But of all Stories, there was no Activity, sure, a wanting in those two jovial Bridallers; neither justly could the One find much fault with the Other, having been, by all probability, both guilty: This Bridegroom, first night he was married, after such time as he had given his Bride that Nuptial benevolence which was requisite; presently, turning himself on his right side, fell a praying: His Bride intending Action more than Devotion, addressed herself to him, in this Bridal Curtain Lecture. Sweetheart, why turn you so soon from me? are you so soon weary of me? Pray thee chick, what art ' doing? Praying, Con●y, said he. For what, Pigsney, said she? For his welfare, replied he, who made me so good way. What other answer she made to this frump, I have not heard, saving only this: Go to, husband, it seems you are cunning.  
You were told a Tale in our Discourse before, of a wanton Widow, and her answer to a stale Bachelor, and importunate Suitor: His resolute reply upon her repulse: With the occasion of that Widow's answer from a Poem writ by an amorous young Gallant (which he likewise answered) who dissuaded her to lie frost upon green. 

Viduae, defuncto primo conjuge, comitantur oculis funera siccis.  
Viduales lachrymae citò numerandae.   And sure that Widow was a feather of the same wing, who finding nothing so as she expected, at least, what her Agility of body required, twitted her second husband with the ability of her first, telling him, that she had a husband would have made a chamber-pot roar.  
That arrogant Widower discovered himself too speedily, to become a speeding wooer: who encountering a rich Widow, and one of a sufficient pleasing feature, to beautify her fortunes: Told her, that he could well find in his heart to make her his Bride, but he thought good first, to impart to her three things, which she might look to find from him, if ever she enjoyed him: and to acquaint her all the better with his humour, they were these. First was, that whether he had cause or no cause abroad, She might be sure of a Bridall-brawle when he came home. Second was, He would eat his meat alone. Third was, He would lie with her but once i'th' month. Why, these are tolerable humours, answered this witty Widow: And so you will give way to other three things which I shall desire, this shall be no occasion of breach betwixt us. Whereto, when he had promised his free assent, were they of what condition soever: Sir, said she, whereas you say, you must needs brawl when you come home: you shall not need, for I will prevent you. Secondly, whereas you must eat your meat alone, do so, and spare not: but I must tell you, you shall then feed on my reversions; for as I satisfy your humour, so must you satisfy mine too, and give me leave to be your Taster. Thirdly, whereas you will but lie with me once a month, take your pleasure; but I must tell you withal, if you will not, another shall: for I shall have a months' mind to another. This answer so miserably perplexed this humorous Wooer; as he took leave of his Widow, and never revived his Suit after that time to her.  
He showed himself a discreet Capricorn; who being made acquainted by an intimate Servant of his, that his wife abused his bed: and if he pleased, he should with his own eyes see such a Comrade of hers embracing her in naked bed: Servant, said he, Such a Sight cannot please me well; yet shall it please me to discover her shame, and with her shame quicken my revenge. The opportunate hour being come, whereof his Servant had given him notice, by a private passage, and without company he rusheth suddenly into the chamber, where he saw too personally presented the act of his dishonour: yet showed he such an incomparable temper, as calling his astonished Brancher unto him, without more passion, thus accosted him: Sir, I shall take a course with you: and with that he shuts him in his Closet; and calling his Servant to him, grievously chid him; and withal told him, how he had abused him, in making him jealous of his wife's honour without just cause: For, see, quoth he, how she poor Girl lies alone without a Bed-fellow: whereas thy lavish tongue suggested to my too credulous ear a conceit of that which I now see, poor innocent Soul, was the least of her thought! And to confirm the strength of this seeming passion, he puts his man from him, and would by no persuasion after that time entertain him. Thus salved he his wife's credit by relinquishing his servant; and abstaining from inflicting the least revenge upon her Minion confined to his Closet. Only, He ever after that time divorced her from his bed: but in all other respects used her as a loyall-affectionate Bride.  
He was moulded to as good a temper, who pretending one day an occasion of going from home, purposely to try some conclusion of his wife's private affection: coming secretly home about dead time of the night, found what he had more reason to suspect than expect; his room supplied by an active Youth; whose Bachelor life made him more ready to encroach upon others possessions, than closed either with his honour, or the Owners reputation. His wife steeled with re●olution, as well as freedom of affection; tells her amazed Husband, that what was done could not be undone. O thou unsatiate One, quoth He, if indifferent benevolence would have served thee, I am sure it was never a wanting thee! It is true, Husband, said she, but the body may be sooner wearied, than the desire satisfied, or the sense sated. The appetite is best pleased with variety: whereas, the daintiest Viands ever dished to us, beget satiety. But be advised by me, Husband, and all shall be amended: For your horns, Sir, it is far better for you to shroud them, than to blow them: Cover these, and my continence of life hereafter shall amply redeem my honour: With which promise, Her Husband (good man) became so well contented, as his patience begot in his wife a love to goodness: So as, the Comic conclusion of their life clozed with much happiness.  
That goodwife was of a merry humour, who, after the Miller had taken his moulter, and by all likelihood had done her a pleasure in grinding her too near the Louder: could not contain herself, but returning back, and finding her Husband at home, cried still— With o the lusty Miller! Her Husband mufing much at his wife's mad humour: Sure I believe, said he, the Miller has done thee: yes, I warrant you, Husband, quoth she, and would have done you too, if you had been there. And as she begun, so she continued her canting humour; With o the lusty Miller!  
That confident goodman received Satisfaction to the full of his wife's demeanour; who praising her one day above comparison, to one of his Neighbours: He advised him not to be altogether so opinionate of her honesty; but rather to try some conclusion whether she was in deed, what she appeared in show: For, said he, many can subtilely shadow their shame, and delude the world with a colour, and yet keep a bit for their Friend in a corner. Be counselled then by me, and I will teach you a way to resolve you of all doubts; and it shall be thus. At night when you are in bed with your wife, you shall ask of her, if ever she had use of any man beside yourself; and if she deny it, as there is scarce one of a thousand that will at first confess it, leave the rest to my device; and if she do not discover it, being guilty of it, discard me for ever: nay, I will never conjure more, but burn my books to save you a labour. This Device her Husband approved; and now when night approached, he puts those Interrogatories to her, as he was directed: Demanding of her, if ever she knew any man but himself? Who I, Husband, quoth She? I hope you have no such opinion of me. No, Duck said he; but I desired to be resolved: I may set my rest then on this, thou never wronged me! Never, quoth she. Yes once, answered her Neighbour, being purposely shrouded in the Chimney-corner. She, poor Soul, being surprised with fear at the voice she did hear, ingenuously confessed, that the Spirit said true: & that she had indeed once transgressed the bounds of modesty, but it was only to purchase his liberty. For your hard-hearted Creditor, careless of your ruin, having laid you fast upon an Execution, came unto me and promised me your freedom for one night's Lodging. Why, says her Husband, this transgression argued an Act of affection; and deserves a kiss beside a pardon. Well, Chick, said he, thou never then offendedst in this kind but once, No, never but once. Yes twice, said the former Devil in the vault. Trust me, Husband, it is true, quoth she, and if the Spirit had not put me in mind of it, I had quite forgot it. But this too was rather for your love than any lust. For one day when a roguish Sergeant came to arrest you, after I had conveyed you up into the Garret, to save you, and satisfy him, I lay with him: but all this was rather to secure you, than any desire I had to him. Why, all this, said her Husband, highly contents me. Thou never then wrongedst me more than twice? Trust me, Husband, never but twice. Yes thrice, said that Neighbourly Familiar in the Chimney-corner. Nay, if thou were't all the Spirits in Hell, said his wife, thou liest, for I never wronged him that way but twice.  
The next day, after this Spirit had returned to his shape, he laughed above measure, to remember how he had served his credulous Neighbour: Which to requite, you shall hear how he used this jeering Spirit in the like nature.  
Neighbour, said he, I commend your device in discovering my wife's folly: and now I am f●e●d of my jealousy: I pray you, let me now play the Spirit to your wife, as you have done to mine. With all my heart Neighbour, said he, and I thank you too: but I am confident there is no voice out of a vault will detect my wife of any vice. But pursue your plot, I shall give you free ingress and egress, as you gave me.  
The very next night he conveys himself privately betwixt the Arras; whiles He, who presented before the part of a Spirit▪ is now to converse with a parcel of his Flesh; Ask her, whether she ever lay with any one but himself? To which question she as peremptorily answered, that she had never. Yes Once, Echoed that under-pentised Spirit: at the noise of which voice, this conscious Bona-roba trembled and confessed, That she had once indeed laid with a Beggar, to whom she out of mere charity had given Harbour; and he poor thankful man, to requite her, desired to return her one curtsy for another. This Beggar stuck deep in his stomach, but whether he could or no digest it, there is no remedy, he must bear it. Yet to be resolved better, he proceeds further: I hope wife, you never did this but once; Never but Once. Yes twice, hallowed the Spirit. O the memory of these Spirits, said she! Truly, I had like to have forgot it. I must confess, I had one time doings with a Pedlar; and I gave him a dozen of Tin Buttons of your doublet for his labour. These were but mean Tradesmen for thee to truck with, said her Husband. But Thou didst never trade after this manner more than twice? Never but twice. yes thrice, bellowed the Spirit; yea thrice, and thrice, thou moppe-faced Incubus (quoth she) and more than all you Hags have Horns in your lower region. And with that, whipping out a bed, as if this Spirit of frenzy had wrought some strange operation in Her body, and drawing near to her Close-stool which stood shrouded under the Arras; instead of it she fell upon the Spirit, on whom for want of her stool of ease, she eased herself sufficiently, till that airy Spirit resolved itself to a substantial body.  
He showed himself a soft delicate Student, who being in bed with his wife called for his Book. Which his Wife observing, called likewise for her Wheel. Why, what do you mean said he? To fall to my Work, as you do to your Book: And may you speed as I spin. Mean time, I have spun a fair thread to become his Bride, who makes his Study of his Bed. But if you had made right use of all the Problems you have read, you might have found that a Study was a place for you to conceive in; but a Bed for me. I could wish you Husband, to turn over a new leaf, lest I in time turn Haggard and check at your love.  
Which caused this effeminate Scholar, for fear of his Wife's displeasure, never to to suffer his Book communicate with his Bed thereafter.  
It was sometimes my fortune to be known to a brave-domineering Lady, whose Will was her Law, though there was no Law in her Will. For her only sweet humour, was ever to be out of humour: being never better pleassed, than to be displeased. Her Mess was ever served up with store of Ponts. Her best clothes were sure to be worn on Worst-dayes: and if any Neighbour of quality came to visit her, she would feign herself feverish and out of temper. This humorous Madam, as one cloyed with commanding, and now after the death of her noble Spouse, twitted with the dishonour of her second matching: When she could not revenge herself of reproach, took revenge of herself; by dying no less estranged from remorse, than she lived at distance from repute.  
It was a pretty apish answer of that Northern girl; who being asked by one, how She, being so small and slender, durst adventure on a Man so strong and of so large a stature? O, quoth she, a little Worm may lie under a great stone!  
It was a shrewd reply which that Barber's wise returned her husband; who finding her scowling, louring and all out of temper, and enquiring the cause of that lumpish humour? Good man, said she, you need little be so inquisitive after this: for whom, I pray you, had you ever under your hands, that you brought not into th' suds? 'Tis true, wife, but I never jest them i'th' suds. O husband, replied she, but I should soon leave these suds, would you but once leave me!  
A wanton discursive husband, when he had rioted so freely in his talk, as modest ears grew weary in the discovery of his youthful liberty; his wife being then and there present: O husband, quoth she, were you as free in your Course, as you are in your Discourse, you would make an excellent Courser to breed on!  
That Widow was in a merry-mourning mood, who having been Survivor to many husbands: and being asked by one, who upon occasion came to inquire of her husband, who was likewise lately dead: Which of my husbands, Sir, do you mean of? For I can assure you, Sir, at this time, my Husbands are all alike able to dispatch your occasions.  
And seeing Birds of one feather will flock together; That Tale which I have sometimes heard of one, will pass well enough for current amongst the rest. A late-arrived Traveller, who had authority to speak of strange things, by the privilege of his Charter, relating the nature, quality and disposition of a Turk: and how his usual Course was to have four Meals a day: and every day to noon it with his wife. The good woman hearing this in the presence of her husband, and impatient of holding any longer: O husband, quoth she, you would make an ill Turk! Not al-altogether so, answered her husband; Give me but so many meals, and thou shalt find me one of the strongest Turkish Males that ever English Jennet bore.  
Should I here relate the servile condition of those Women of Sio; Whose Husbands prefer base lucre before their Wife's honour: prostituting their bodies to shame, in hope of gain: as I should display the one full of agility, so should I deblazon the other hunting after base commodity. But as the eliot's were wont to bring forth their Slaves drunk, and acting all their obscene and brutish parts, purposely to deter their children from the like filthiness; and implant in them a native horror to such unmanly looseness: so I will give you here a touch of the slavish condition of those inhabitants, to weine the most mercenary Palliard from the like qualities. You are to understand then, That the Women of Sio are the most beautiful Dames of all the greeks in the World, and greatly given to Venery; Their husbands are their Panders, and when they see any Stranger arrive, they will presently demand if he would have a Mistress: and so they make Whores of their own Wives, and are contented for a little gain to wear horns: such are the base minds of these ignominious Cuckolds. A base traffic for money, to make a barter of Honour. There appeared far more freedom of spirit, and no less agility of body in that fat Farrier and his bouncing Hussy; who meeting in a Forest, and both addressed for pleasure: after long parlance, concluded to preserve the wench's modesty, who seemed loath to do aught uncivilly; that he should blow her down, for otherwise she would not incline to his motion: But how the Forester composed this Controversy, I leave to the Poet to deliver to you in this Epigram for me.  

M●la●nd. Epigram. lib. 1.  Sith Smug (a wanton Farrier) there was,  
Who made appointment with a Country lass,  
That against the time from market she'ist return,  
He would keep toutch and do her a good turn.  
The place where these two lovely Mates should meet  
Was a vast forest unfrequented with feet  
Of any passenger, save such as were  
Rangers so'th ' chase, amongst which a Forester  
Upon occasion chanced to come that way,  
And heard, Eve-dropper-like, what they did say;  
Their place of meeting, with the maid's consent,  
Which he resolved as quickly to prevent.  
And being under shade securely sconst,  
Which place he had elected for the non'st,  
He stays to see th' return of this same Lass,  
Which (as she wished) did quickly come to pass:  
For Maids that know not what 'tis to consent  
To a lost Maidenhead, nor what is meant  
By giving of a green-gowne, sooner will  
Assent to ill, because they know no ill,  
Than such as have of active pleasures store,  
For well were they experienced in't before.  
Yea, such will never deal unless they smell  
●ome hope of gain, or like the Trader well.  
At last the Maid having her market made,  
(Perhaps far sooner than her Parents bade)  
With clothes tucked up returns with speedy pace,  
Down by the Forest to th'appointed place:  
Where Smug the Farrier lay all this while,  
That he the Maid might of her gem beguile.  
If you had seen what meeting there was then  
Betwixt these two, you would have vowed no men  
Of any rank or order were so good,  
As Lemnian▪ Lemons unto womanhood.  
So humble was the Horseleech, as to please  
The shamefast Maid, he oft fell on his knees,  
While pattering paltry Love-spels on her lips,  
Down fall his breeches from his naked hips:  
And all this while, poor soul, she stood stock still;  
Not thinking (on my conscience) good or ill.  
At last the jolly Smith (when all was shown,  
That he could show) willed th' Maid to to lay her down  
Upon a shady bank, which with all sorts  
Of flowers was chequered fit for Venus' sports.  
She (though she were resolved no ill could be  
By lyng down) yet in her modesty  
Would not unto his motion so assent,  
Yet let him blow her down she was content.  
The short-breathed Smith (for he was wondrous fat,  
And stuffed withal) makes me no bones of that,  
But Aeolus-like, puffs up his cheeks well-grown,  
And he no sooner blows than she was down.  
The Forester, who all this time had stood  
Under a shady covert of the wood.  
Steps in, when th' Smith his smelting should begin,  
Saying, all Windfalls they were due to him. 
The Windfall.   
Many such Smiths our Anvile-Annals show,  
And present times may show as many now.  
To inlay this our Lecture with mixed stories, I shall add one only Tale of a sprightly Male, who, for love of a Female lost his Mail, and afterwards run post-naked down Sautry-laine.  
There was an Attorney's Clerk, who coming along with his Master by Stanegate-Hole, (or the Pursers' prize) and hover a little behind his Master, purposely to ease himself: tied his Gelding to a Stake in the Hedge, and went over into the Thicket adjoining: where he no sooner entered, than he perceived a dainty young wench, of an amiable presence, cheerful countenance, & a wooing eye, beckoning unto him, as if she affected nothing more than dalliance: The Clerk, whose heat of youth prompted him on, though his Master's speed called him back, friendly and freely accosted her, preferring his own sport before his Master's speed. But while they were clozing up their youthful bargain, two lusty Takers leapt out of a Brake and surprised him, calling him to a sharp account for the dishonour he had offered their Sister: He, who had no time admitted him to put in his plea, besought them that he might be dismissed: which Motion they inclined to, but by no means till he had paid his fees. To be short, they stripped him naked to his skin; seized on his Port-Mantua: and tying his hands behind him, mounted him Mother-naked as he was, into his Saddle. His Gelding, missing his Master's horse, fell a galloping and neighing after him. The Master with an other fellow-traveller, hearing such a noise and clattering behind them, though a good distance from them, looking back, might see one in White with great speed pursuing them: They imagining it to be one in White Armour, put spurs to their Horses: where all along Sautry-laine, this eager chase continued: the man harmelesly following; they fearfully flying: till they got to Stilten, where they thought themselves happy in such an Harbour: where they reposed, till that Armed-man appeared a Naked-man; whom we will leave to the correction of his Master: to whom he made a free discovery of his misfortune, and consequently deserved more favour.  
With which Tale we will close this Subject of Liberty, descending to the next, though confined to a narrower Scope, yet of more ingenuity.   

QUICKNESS OF WIT.  

MOTIVE 3.  QUICKNESS OF WIT, consists in a pregnant present conceit, arising from an happy fancy or strength of apprehension, having an answer ready to any objection: or a pleasing delightful humour in bandying jests one to another. Which are divided into Festive, or civil: Both, if seasonably used, and without danger of any personal toutch, freely received; Though the Orator hold, that the former is allied to vanity, one degree nearer than the latter.  
These Quicke-wits are best expressed in present extremities. I have known some wits of our time, held it their greatest honour, to contest in arguments of Wit with Women: Nor have they held it less honour to gravel them. The conquest was not so virile, that it should retain any such esteem: But in these Duelloes of wit, I have observed some of these self-opinionate ones, fail so far in their expectance, as they ever merited least praise, where they were most confident of an undoubted prize. A just judgement! That wherein Wits are most presuming, they should ever appear most failing. It is true, what the Apologue sometimes observed; Epimetheans are to be found in every place, but it were rare to find any one of all Prometheus race. To foresee what may befall, is an eye surpassing the lower verge: yea, we shall find the pregnantst piercingst wit many times most blinded in what imports them most. Apt to pry into others secrets, but neglectful of their own▪ A censorious quicksighted Argus to others Counsels: A blind Tiresias in the Survey of their own. It is a rare felicity to enjoy a quick-wit, & to have Humility to manage it. More have perished by it, than procured them safety from it. Ripe early Wits are soon blasted; as rarest beauties quickliest blemished. Wherein those are ever most erring, that are most given to talking: especially, in observances, regreets, salutations, compliments: which, many times fall out unhappily to those who most affect them; & following the current of Court-rhetoric, mistake the terms: or through ignorance of the true Dialect of Speech, fall into ridiculous absurdities, by mistaking words, or inverting the use of them; familiar errors to most of our affected Speakers. This may necessarily seem to introduce the Tale of that Finitive Girls; who coming down from her Lady to a Gentleman; and desirous to excuse her Lady, that she could not presently be at leisure to receive his Message; requested him, that till her Lady was ready to dispatch him, he would be pleased to go along with her and take some procreation in the Garden. Which could not choose but puzzle him as much to answer, as she poor wench, was simply forward in her liberal offer.  
Nor had that Curate's wife any ill meaning, how ere her words might be misconstrued, who coming to her Land-ladies house, and being asked of her; How happens it that all this while you have no children Neighbour? Verily, quoth she, I know not, but by the motion of the spirit we do both our endeavour.  
Nor did that soft-tempered Gentleman, show any great propriety of speech, nor pertinency of answer, when coming to the house of a neare-neighbouring Lady, and being demanded of her, How long his wife reckoned, and when she would be brought a-bed? For want of a better answer, suffering both in his tongue and conceit a fever, made this reply; Even when your Ladyship pleaseth.  
But to speak generally of quick-wits, they are naturally bold: which many times endangers the owner's discretion. There is no Discourse, wherein he will not have an Oar. No Argument, wherein he holds not himself fit to be a Moderator. Yet, in this he so far over-shoots himself, as he finds it more prejudicial for man to be accompanied by self conceit, than to be endued with a mean, but humble conceit. It was the Saying of a daring Stoic, that he was in all things so well resolved, as there was nothing wherein he so much as doubted: Which was likewise the arrogant opinion of Velleius the Epicurian. His confidence had so strengthened him, as no opinion of error could surprise him: Imagining his knowledge to be liable to no error, so firmly and irremoveably sixth was he to an opinionate humour. But he who fools himself with such an arrogant confidence, ever fails most in his expectance. He is most wise, who is lest opinionately wise. For he that seeks to be more wise than he can be, shall be found to be less wise than he should be.  
But now, whereas many women have singular quick-wits; it is very rare for any such to have them, and not to know them. It is commonly seen therefore in public Assemblies, how apt they are to give occasion of discourse: and how willingly they embrace any Argument to exercise their Wits on. And in this they have a great advantage of the stronger Sex: For whatsoever they object by way of reason, receives a more favourable construction, than others may probably expect. For indifferent things delivered, where little is expected; begets more admiration in the hearer, than where more solid Arguments are handled, but by such where nothing less could be expected. Indeed, the greatest error that can be found in these feminine Disputants; you shall observe some of them (ever teserving our best esteem for the discreetest and selectedst ones) to flow in words, but drop in matter. Copiously shall you find them worded; but for matter penuriously stored. Howbeit, their very presence ever accompanies their discourse with an applausive grace.  
I have in my time seen a Woman brought before a Judicial Seat; where she was accused of enormous crimes: and such, as before she laboured to vindicate her own honour, begot in her Spectators an hateful horror: yet no sooner had she delivered her own misfortunes; the undeserved extremities of her Adversaries; the disrespect she bore to life; the tender care to redeem her fame; than she begot tears in those who before did spite her: a noble Compassion in such, who before did hate her. Now, if a quick-wit, prompt speech, and prepared spirit wrought such effects in actions of that quality, what might they produce in affairs of true worth and magnanimity?  
It is true, what an excellent Moralist well observed: that it fareth with wits, as with diversity of Soils. Some are naturally so fruitful, that if they should be manured or marled, they would grow over with weeds. Many such luxuriant Wits there be; who, the more they are fed, the more are they famished. These must be kept Sharp, or they will not mount. Others there be, who must be forced, or they are starved, but these partake not of such whereof we have here discoursed.  
To dwell longer on these I shall not need, seeing the Trial of wits will sufficiently inform you. We will descend then from those benefits accrueing to quick-wits discreetly managed, to those distastes they beget by being too lavishly vented.   

DISTASTE.  

OPPOSITE 3  PRECIOUSEST things have ever the worst keepers: which proverb is made good even in this Subject. There was never good Wit, saith the profound Stagyrian, without some mixture of folly. Nay, the best Wits have the vicioust parts. Dangerous tools to be in mad men's hands.  
Let us reflect a little then upon that Noble Sex, whereto we are to address our discourse: and in these rich Minerals of Wit, observe if those purest and precioust metals are not blemished with some foil. Quick and piercing be these feminine wits: which being well disposed, incomparably beseem them. For as that Relater sometimes delivering a passionate Speech, expressed every passage so emphatically, as he begot a general Compassion in his Hearers; till, in t●e end, Concluding his whole discourse, he demanded of them what they thought of such an Orator? Their answer was, they could admire nothing more. Nor can you do aught less, replied he, coming wholly from the sweet pen of a Woman.  
Every Action, saith the Philosopher, hath two helves or handles. And we shall find these two metalld wits strike upon the same Shelves. The one more apt for projecting, the other for discoursing. This tart; That dangerous. As for our old Beldame wits, we will let them rust in the sheath: Their Plots are ever casting for Husbands for their Daughters: or how they may gather a little more useless trash into their knapsacks: which they enjoy with as much content, as those who live in continual want. Our Stories must take life from more youthful Madeona's. Such, as to purchase the persons whom they loved; and whose fidelity they had sufficiently approved; took upon them disguises, that they might enjoy the fruits of their affection with less suspicion. Others becoming Pages to those who were foes to their Lovers; to make those whom they loved, happy Conquerors. Others exposing themselves for Slaves, to secure their Sweethearts States. Of which sorts, you may furnish yourselves with Instances plenteously both in our ancient Roman and our latter Italian Stories. All which, as they pitched upon love, so closed they for most part with Comic ends.  
But of all others, there are no Plots more desperately dangerous, than those which are grounded on jealousy: which in all ages hath brought forth such implacable Revenge, as nothing could find it a period without blood. But our desire is not to rivel your eyes with tears; nor to close our Curtain Lecture with a funeral pile: But to furnish you with fresh Messes of merry mates, where the effects of jealousy or Revenge shall wind themselves up in mirth. I will begin with the Tale of a Wenching Companion, who could not far well but he must cry roast-meat: For having received a fair and free entertainment from three several witty Wantoness in his Parish; it could not suffice him to enjoy them but he must boast of it, and so defame them. These three merry Gossips practised one day how they might pay him home in his own Coin: and how they might each of them affright him most, and harm him least.  
The first, being a Barber's wife, was long in the suds, till she had wrought what she had so long sought; which the better to bring to pass, with an affable invitation she cheers her youngker, and wils him not to break with her: for such a day would her husband be employed in trimming some Burgess against such a festival day, and no time more opportunate for his safe ingress and egress. The time is observed, all things ●●●ted: but while these two amorous factors are in naked embraces, enjoying each other, by a private practice with her Maid, in comes the Barber. He perceiving nothing, chid his Dame, for spending so much time in her bed; bidding her arise for shame, for (said he) I have trimmed two gentlemen already: yea, Husband (quoth she) but I would know him that trimms you.— But you promised me, one day, Husband, to pair my toes, do it now for me, and I will rise instantly. The good simple Barber, conscious of no such things as his wife had practised, began to give an edge to his razor, while his witty wife whisphering underneath, willed the Currier to put out his feet, and to fall low in the bed, for fear of discovery. Which the poor trembling Snake did accordingly.— O cut me nearer, quoth the Barber's wife: till he went so near the quick, as the Palsie-shaking Cavalier feeling more than he durst find fault with, to free himself from fear of further torture, bit the Barber's wife into the shoulder. This procured a shriek from the wife; and caused the Husband to lay aside his tool. So taking along with him some Camphier Balls for which he came thither, he left this shaking Shark with his Subtle Siren together: the one trembling for fear; the other laughing at his fever.  
The next was of the Lemnian Order, a black-Smiths wife; One, who could forge and hammer any thing cunningly, to compass her pleasure. And she must play her Pranks too; which the better to effect, this Lady Venus pretends that her Vulcan is to play the Farrier abroad, and therefore privately invites this Martial younker to her house, to play the part of a stout and stiff Warrior at home. Such a pleasing occasion requires all expedition: Love loosens fetters, and transforms feet to feathers to seize upon such a purchase. The way he finds easy; his free access promiseth all success: He is not only admitted, but permitted to do what he list. But an unexpected storm altars this Calm: while these two lie billing like two loving Pairs, she hears her Husbands boisterous tongue below the stairs: It is high time then for her now or never to ply her anvil, or feel the fury of her Farrier: which to prevent (no wit comparable to a woman's at a dead lift) she opens a Chest which stood close to her bed; and puts in her Paramour by the head and shoulders: and locks it fast, when she has done: Up comes the Husband, chase like an Horseleech, and fretting like gummed grogran, to find his wife i'th' Cloth-market at that time o'th' day. But poor wench, she feigns herself sick, giving such a passionate grace to her counterfeit groan, as her simple Actaeon imagined her to be sick indeed. He, to comfort his sweet Dulip, asks her what she would have, and where her pain held her most? O, at my stomach, Husband, at my stomach; I find a great loathing at my stomach.— Where's the Aqua vitae bottle, said the Smith? that will either recover thee or nothing. O, in that Chest, Husband, but I know not where the key is; the grief of my stomach h'as made me quite forget myself. Marry, quoth he, but I will break it up with my hammer and pincers;— I will not lose my Coy-Duck for a little labour. As they were thus communing, and he preparing his tools to break up the Chest, or this Paramours cabin, you may partly imagine what a pitiful perplexity, that inchested Lecher was in: Which he discovered, for being not able to contain himself any longer, the chinks of the Chest disclosed his fear by the distillation of his Water. Which the disssembling sick Dame perceiving; Oh, quoth she, Husband, you may now save that labour, for by the jogging you have made, you have spilt all the Water: and I thank God, I am at better ●ase than I was.  
This highly cheered the good man to see his wife so well recovered: while she after the departure of her Husband releaseth the prisoner; who came forth like a drowned Rat, and without scarce taking leave of his jeering Minion, run down stairs in a pelting chafe, vowing ever after to be more wary of preferring such a Didapper to his Choice.  
But carnal repentance holds no long residence. The third merry Gossip, being a Feather of the same Wing, and had purposed to render her Wanton Tell-tale the like Wage: sends one Evening to this Fly-blown Flesh-Fly, acquainting him how her Husband, (being an Excellent Painter, and such an One as not a Rush-bearing or May-Morish in all that Parish could subsist without him) was to go a good way (as she pretended) stay a long time from home about setting forth of a Pageant; so as, he might enjoy the freedom of her love securely, without the least suspicion of any within her family. The Jovial youngker forgetful of his late fear, and desirous to second her aim, whose love was his lure; with winged speed fits himself for this Love's adventure: where he no sooner arrives, than he is received with all expressions of familiarity and privacy of favour. Though she were a a Painter's wife, and one practised much in adulterate varnish, he found her affection laid on with such Colours, as they were in grain and admitted no stain: for nothing was denied him, that could be desired by him. He found more agility and quickness in this amorous Creature, than ever Pygmalion could do in his artful (but as then un-enlivened feature.) Prometheus' his fire had infused such heat; as never more active nor virile love accompanied Ida's seat, nor Eryca's grove, than that love-entranced Myrmidon did enjoy in the seazure of his Peg Painters love.  
But were there no flaw in a Picture, Art might worthily admire herself, and esteem her work an Architype of Nature. Men would in time become Zanies and surfeit in the Sweets of pleasure, if there were no Aloes to immix itself with it, and allay the quality of it in some measure. This that sensual Amorist felt, heard and understood; when ready stripped to imbath himself in his Stove (or if you will) Stew of delights: that perfidious Phidias (for so no doubt our youthful Gamester held him) was heard below: what a pickle than may you imagine this sou●'t Gurnet was in, at the resound of his voice? But some present course must be taken, to secure this unfortunate Goat, or there is no more life to be expected, than in a Picture which Art only form. But a device this Wanton has in readiness, to revenge her wrong; and with some fear to her Bed-fellow, shrowded both their lightness. The Plot is this: She wills him stir his stumps; and follow those directions she prescribes him. He must now of a living Creature become a dying Picture: he must hang behind the Door for something, and be as mute as if he hung there for nothing. Mother-naked he hangs there by the Arms; while the Painter, who knows little of the Drift or practice either, enters the Chamber, and contrary to the custom of the Country, begins to read his Wife a Curtain Lecture; but she, tender of her honour, puts up all with patience: telling him withal, that though she loved to take her ease, it was not altogether without pro●it; she could bargain in her bed, that would pay for washing her sheets. And to make this good, look (quoth she) behind the door, what a Picture I have bargained for at the second or third hand! Tell me now in good sadness, did you ever see any one nearer to life? Peruse every vein, sinnew, member, artery; and then resolve me, if ever you saw an exacter piece of Symmetry? Trust me, said the Painter, the Work is very lively, only I find one disproportionable part, which our best Artists have ever held a great deformity. Now, the only blemish which I find in this Picture, is, that the one Cod hangeth longer than the other; which I shall rectify forthwith. The Aguish-supposed Picture, fearing much that the Painter was fetching his knife or some other Instrument in use, to correct that error; which if he did, he were undone for ever: just as the incensed Painter turned his back, leapt the the scared Skaledrake from off the hinges of the Door: running naked through the open street, to preserve his Genitories from the stake.  
Now, I will not ask you, which you verily think of all these put him in most fear, and harmed him least; for so you may suspect me that I relate these purposely to sell you a Bargain. No, the discovery of these sleights was only to set forth the Levity or want of Secrecy in those, who should be most strong: with the strength of their Revenge, whose Sex argues them to be most weak.  
A Story to like purpose in our own time and in our own Clime I have heard; and it was thus. A loose Libertine, who cared little for engaging his honour, so he might be Master of his pleasure. Amongst many others, to whom his irregular desires, had tendered love and service; it happened that there was a Gentleman's wife of good account and approved fame, whose affection he strongly solicited: Many repulses he received, but his impudence put him on afresh; renewing still his siege, hoping in time to become seized of the Hold. At last, when she could by no means dissuade him from his uncivil Suit, she seemingly consented to his request: yet acquainting him withal, that her Honour was such a precious Gem, as she desired to have the Fame of it preserved, though it were privately blemished: If then he meant to enjoy her, he must be conveyed secretly into her Chamber: which he, with much willingness inclined to. The Night is appointed; the manner of Conveying him contrived: a Trunk provided; to seize him of what he so incomparably desired. Mean time, she acquaints her Husband with the whole Plot: Who infinitely longs for the approach of that Night, to discover to his shame, his odious lust: as the wanton Lecher was impatient of that tedious day, to enjoy the shaken fruits of his ranging love. The Porter receives his hire, and directions from her: willing him to set the Trunk upon end against the Wall: and in such manner, as his feet might stand upward, and his head downward.  
Long, may you imagine, did this incoffined Puffin lie there incased, before he was opened: at last the Husband comes in, and looking about him, demands whose Trunk that was? A Friends, answers she. What Friend, said he? No friend should have any Trunk or any such matter in my Chamber, but it were fitting that you made me first acquainted what it were, and for what end it came hither. For I have been partly made privy to your tricks before, Minion, quoth he, seeming enraged: I will therefore make bold to see what trumpery you have here; and break it open, if I may not receive so much favour from you as to have the key. She seemingly dissembled all things, beseeching him to be content, and spare the Secrecies of that Trunk: but the more her subtlety importuned him: the more did her delays seemingly provoke him. To be short, the Trunk is opened, where this loose Lecher could not inwardly be more polluted, than his fair Satin Suit (whose inside partaked entirely of Satan) was found hatefully scummered. Now, with what dishonour he was kicked out o'th' Chamber, I leave it to you, if you had your wives besieged in like manner, to censure.  
But amorous ears, no doubt, would be more delighted with hearing Devices of an other nature: as for instance, to hear the Party beloved cast a bait how she may deceive a suspicious eye, to close her own content, and crown the long-wished desires of her lover.  
That Tale of a wanton witty Dame will sound well in such ears, who advised her Sweetheart, to secure them the better from her Husband's presence, to attire his Servant in a Bear's skin; being a Beast, which of all others he most feared and hated. The Story I commend to the relation of this Poem.  
A wily wench there was (as I have read,)  
Who used to Capricorn her Husband's head;  
Which he suspecting, lay in privy wait  
To catch the Knave, and keep his wife more straight.  
But all in vain: they day by day did mate it,  
Yet could his four eyes never take them at it.  
This subtle wench perceiving, how they should  
At last prevented be, do all they could:  
For now Italian-like, her Husband grew  
Horn-mad (I wis) and kept her in a Mew:  
Invented a trick, which to accomplish better,  
Unto her friend she closely sent a letter,  
And thus it was;" Friend, you shall know by me,  
" My Husband keeps me far more narrowly  
" Than he was wont; so as, to tell you true,  
" You cannot come to me, nor I to you.  
" Yet spite of his eyes and as many more,  
" we'll use those pleasures which we used before:  
" Only be wise, and second what I wish;  
" Which to express (my friend) know this it is.  
" My Husband, as he hates the horn to wear  
" Of all the Badges forth, so fears he th' Bear  
" More than all other Beasts which do frequent  
" The Heathy Forests spacious Continent.  
" If thou wilt right me then, and pepper him,  
" Cover thy Servant in a false Bear's skin:  
" And come to morrw, as thou used before,  
" Tying thy Servant to my Chamber door.  
After this acquaint direction he attired  
His man in Beare-skinne as she had desired;  
Entering the Chamber, he received is  
With many a smile, back-fall, and sweetened kiss:  
For they're secure of all that was before,  
Having a Bear that kept the Buff from door.  
The Wittol fool no sooner incling had,  
Then up the Stairs he ran as he were mad:  
But seeing none but th' Bear to entertain him,  

A Cuckold with a witness.  Of Horns he never after did complain him.  
There be other extremes of love which fall by degrees into mortal hate: hammering upon nothing more than revenge: and these tragic effects are ever hatched from jealous spirits: which the Tragedian seems to discover in a passionate admiration: How boundless is the height of woman's hate! This that jealous Dame published to all the World; when finding one day in a Cabinet of her Maids, divers especial Love-tokens and affectionate Favours, which she had bestowed upon a Servant of hers who s●ood strongly interessed in her love; became so violent in her hate towards him, whom before she preferred before all the World; as the very next time, that he presented his service unto her, he was pistaled by her, without ever so much as expostulating with him the ground of her distaste.  
Nor will we leave this only here: As mortal, though less fatal was that woman's malicious pursuit of revenge, (to give an instance in actions of base brood) who accused one before a Justice for a Rape. The discreet Justice perceiving that the ground of her accusation proceeded rather from malice than any just cause, wished her to be well advised before she impeached him of such a Crime: for, said the Justice, I am half persuaded, in regard of the honest report and repute of the man, that he is clear.— But tell me in good earnest, said the Justice, did he ravish thee indeed? Yes, quoth she, I'll take my Corporal Oath of it, though your Worship will not believe it, that he has ravished me twenty times at least, before ever I came before your Worship.  
Those who are addicted to melancholy, are ever esteemed most witty: and these most subject to Jealousy: On which humour, of all others▪ the Devil (as Guido observeth) worketh for his own purpose most powerfully. This might appear by the Story of that perplexed Gentleman; who being employed in service abroad; and having a very beautiful Wife, desired to be satisfied how she behaved herself in his absence: To be resolved herein, he makes recourse to a Necromancer; Who, after some little time, showed him a Glass, wherein he presented to his view, his Lady in full proportion, and a young Cavalero with his breeches down entering her Chamber: This amazed him much, for as he was naturally addicted to jealousy, so this so fully confirmed and strengthened his conceit, as he could scarcely contain himself from picking at the eyes of his Lady presented in the Glass: And to second his conceit with revenge, he begs leave of the General, that he might obtain so much favour as to leave the Garrison for a season, and return home into his Country, to dispose of sundry affairs which at that time required his personal attendance. Way being given him, he returns home: where, though passion would scarce admit a parlance, he thought good to call his wife aside; and with much abruptness of speech, fire and fury in his eyes; he asks her what Company she had in her Bedchamber such a day? She at the first, much amated, yet knowing her own innocency to be without the reach of scandal, at last recollecting her dispersed and distracted thoughts, she called to mind who at that time accompanied her: Upon which recollection, she returned him this answer: O Dear Sir, let not the Devil delude you; I well remember, how your own Brother, that very day, came into my Chamber, and that I laid a plaster upon his boil, which was on his thigh. This so well satisfied him, as his fury was turned to affability and sweetness: repenting him sore, that ever he inclined to give ear to such an hateful suggestion. So as, albeit he had brought her into a private-desert grove, where he intended a fatal revenge; he not only freed her person and untainted honour, but retained a constant opinion of her noble carriage ever after.  
This Story I inserted, to deter such from giving too much trust to these Sorceries: For what was the Devils sole practice or aim in this false deceiving Glass presented to that deluded Gentleman; but to suggest to his jealous thoughts grounds of revenge? He was ready enough to show him occasions to increase his jealousy: but not to discover to him what person it was, to whom his Lady showed herself so familiarly. He was ready to present to his sight a youthful active Cavaliero, and that in an uncivile posture, entering his Lady's Chamber: but never the love nor affection she bore to himself, in this office she did to his Brother.  
He was not half so much distempered with jellows; being far more easily persuaded, though he had less cause to be so quickly satisfied; who riding one day a Hunting, suddenly and unexpectedly receiving News that his Wife was brought a-bed, could not choose at the first but break out into some passion; thumping his breast, and doubting still that his Dogs, Actaeon-like, would not know their Master, cried out, till the Field re-ecchoed again, I am dishonoured, I am dishonoured. One (and such an One very likely as had a finger in the pie) seeing him in this mad mood; begun to chide him, bidding him be content for shame, and not to make the whole field witness of his folly; for what's the matter, said he, that brings you to this distemper? Why, my wife (quoth he) is brought a-bed. And why should she not, answered he? Because it is too soon (said this honest Goos●in:) all the world knows, it is not above twenty weeks since we were married: the Child then can by no ways be mine. No more is it (said his friend) it is as much your wifes as yours. But, pray you Sir, tell me▪ will you publish yourself a Ninny to all the world! Is it not twenty weeekes since you were married, and twenty weeks too since she was married; and do not these two put together make up forty weeks? Tell me then▪ how are you Unhonoured? Which reason: this tractable Trout had no sooner heard than he became well persuaded: humbly beseeching his Friend to excuse his error, and not to publish to the World his folly: which he promised to do upon hope of a further favour; conditionally he would not suffer himself to be misled by any such jealousy.  
But to return to our former Discourse, and the Subject whereof we now treat; As our Quickest wits are many times apt to minister occasion of distaste: so we may distinguish these occasional grounds of distaste into three particular or distinct Motives. Some whereof might seem so free from giving occasion in this time, as they may admit an exemption, and from so general a rule a regular exception: yet shall we make it appear that even from Silence, wherein is many times shrouded a great measure of implicit Sense, distaste may be taken as well as from Speech. For a Sullen cloudy humour can never sort nor suit well with a candid nature. But to our division: Distastes of this kind may derive their being or essence, from Speech, Silence, or Impertinence. The first, in speaking more than they should; The second, in not speaking when they should; The third, in impertinent action, by declining from doing what they should.  
Now, forasmuch as Instances give the clearest light and perspicuity to all Subjects: our care shall be to illustrate these by examples: that what we propose, by way of opinion may be confirmed in each of these by some exemplary person.   

SPEECH.  
FOr the first; the Tale of that jovial good fellow, falls fit for our purpose; who to arm himself against his wife's shrewd tongue; amongst many other nights of good fellowship, stayed, till after midnight playing the Cup-shot: and how he was encountered by the strength of his Fantasy and distempered quality with a supposed Spirit, and how he reasoned with it: all which I leave to the faithful relation of this Poem.  
A Man there was, who lived a merry life,  
Till in the end he took him to a Wife;  
One that no image was (for she could speak)  
And now and then her husband's costrell break:  
So fierce she was and furious, as in sum  
She was an arrant Devil of her tongue.  
This drove the poor man to a discontent,  
And oft and many times did he repent  
That e'er he changed his former quiet state,  
But alas, repentance then did come too late.  
No cure he find to cure this malady,  
But makes a virtue of necessity,  
The common cure for care to every man,  
" A pot of nappy Ale: where he began  
To fortify his brain against all should come,  
Amongst which the clamour of his wives loud tongue.  
This habit graffed in him grew so strong,  
" That when he was from Ale, an hour seemed long,  
So well he liked th' profession: on a Time  
Having stayed long at pot, (for rule nor line  
Limits no drunkard) even from Morn to Night,  
He hasted home a pace, by the Moonlight:  
Where as he went, what fantasies were bred,  
I do not know, in his distempered head,  
But a strange Ghost appeared, and forced him stay,  
With which perlext, he thus began to say:  
" Good Spirit, if thou be, I need no charm,  
" For well I know, thou wilt not do me harm;  
" And if the Devil; sure, me thou shouldst not hurt,  
I weded thy Sister, and am plagued for't.  
The Spirit well approving what he said,  
Dissolved to air, and quickly vanished.  
For Guido reports that there are Spirits of such a merry Genius, as they are infinitely delighted with such pleasant Conceits: As there be others full of melancholy and discontent, who to vast Tombs, silent Caves, and dark Charnell-houses make their usual frequent.  
Nor is it easy to determine what affinity this Spirit had to his, who being found tardy, said, he was troubled with a Spirit, and so hotly pursued, as for fear he was forced for want of other succour, to fly for shelter to his Neighbour's wife.  
To aggravate the distaste arising from these active feminine tongues, who will rather suffer the worst of Spite, than alloy their Spleen: I might here relate the Tale of that University Virago (for the Civilest places are not exempted from these Tetters;) a Girl of a stout stomach, though of a soft and pliable temper: Who, walking the streets one night, either to take fresh air, or in hope to encounter with some flush Heir; chanced unhappily to meet the Major: who standing upon the punto of his authority, after he had unpinned the Casements of his eyes with much difficulty, being close cemented together with rising so early; at last asked her what she was? One, quoth she, of the feminine gender, and a Scholar. What, said he, A Scholar in a Waistcoat? yes, quoth she, this poor Flanning Waistcoat h'as answered and dare answer oftener under Bachelor, than those larded-Sattin fore-skirts of yours, durst ever yet in defence of your honour. But the tart Oratory of this waistcoat brought her to a lodging in the kid-coate.  
There be other Talkative Girls, who priding themselves a little too much in their glibbe tongues, many times in casting about to catch others, are catched themselves: which I might take occasion here to instance in the answer of a brave Blade, who being in Company of a bevy of jovial Wenches, who had whitteld him well with liquor; One amongst the rest finding him apt enough to discover his thoughts, importuned him much to tell them what was the worst thing which he in his Conscience thought, he had ever done all his life time.  
He, unwilling to satisfy her demand, though seconded with great importunity, told her expressly; That though they had made him as right as their leg to their purpose, he would be loath to make them his Secretaries, who could not keep their own Counsels: But for her especially, he never meant to make her his She-Confessor, who was as open as a Sieve, that could not hold water. At last, overcome with her instancy, he told her roundly, that since she would needs out of ancient familiarity, enjoin him to such a discovery:  
He must ingenuously confess, that the worst thing that ever he did in his life, and that which troubled his Conscience most, was getting her with child (directing his speech to her that so importuned him) and causing her to lay it upon his Neighbour, such an one.  
This unexpected answer made the rest of her Gossips bite the lip: but for his inquisitive Comater, she vowed, so long as she knew him, never to ask him any questions.   

SILENCE.  
AS Speech occasions Distaste by speaking too much; so does Silence in speaking too little: This might be instanced in the discontent which a Sociable good fellow took in his wife's Silence: Who had intended, it seems, to requite her Husband's unthriftiness, with an humour of sullenness. He, as it was usual with him, coming home at an unseasonable hour; asked of his Wife many questions, but received no answer to any. Having tried many Conclusions to receive one comfortable tone from her, but all in vain; at last he resolved of a course to bring her to her tongue again, and it was this: He gets the key of the Sexton, and goes into the Church: where he tolls the Bell, as is usually done for such as are dying. Some of the inhabitants come in, purposely to inquire for whom it was that the Bell was towlling? It was answered by this Conceited youth, that it was for his Wife, who was lately laid speechless.  
Which report, no doubt, would in time loosen the strings of her tongue, and make her Husband know that she was recovered: and cause him confess as much to his torment.  
Albeit, in many question's Silence deserves to be approved and preferred: especially in such where the resolution of those questions propounded, may trench highly upon the Speakers credit: This, that forward answer of a witty wench little considered; who had been long known to be no Niggard of her flesh, to One, and that a familiar One; who asked her the reason how it came to pass that all her children should be so like their father, when all the World knew that they had many fathers? O quoth she, I never take in any Stranger, till I find my vessel full fraughted!   

IMPERTINENCE.  
FOr the last, though not the least, where distaste is ministered by Impertinence of action, or a diversion from what it should intend, we might here bring upon the Stage, That trifling Girl, who fell a cracking of nuts, while another was taking pains to pick out the kernel of her virginity▪ with his surly answer to her: Is it time to crack nuts? Mind that thou art doing with a murrain.  
Or that ill-nurtured Tomboy; who like one of Domitian's daughters, was catching Flies, while her Sweetheart was preferring his Suit. Thus have we no less plainly than fully discovered those various delights and benefits arising from Quickness of wit, well seasoned: with those distempers and distastes which usually accompany them, when too freely exposed. For these roving wits, as they ever strive to wound others, so they never come home unbaited.  
But, as that divine Plato sometimes said, The Lover is ever blinded with affection towards his beloved; So, even in these inward graces, many become so affectionately doting on their own parts and abilities, as no conceit how present or pregnant soever delivered by another, may pass for current, if they may be Censors. So highly are they enamoured of their own, as they disesteem all others. These presuppose an exuberance of wit, which indeed, many times draws nearest soaking, when it should be, in regard of the occasion offered, plenteously flowing.  
But these presuming wits are ever safest when they are stillest: being generally transported, or extased rather, with a confidence of their worth: as there is no person may evade them, wherein they will not take occasion to use the dexterity of their wits, and assume to themselves more freedom than is granted them.  
It is a rule worth remembering: 
Play with me, but hurt me not;  
jest with me, but shame me not.  Which that divine mellifluous Father well observed, when he said: Jests are no less suspicious to me than anger; seeing by jesting I have many times escandalized another. A great care and circumspection than is to be used in experiments of this nature: lest by venting their jest, and losing their friend, they incur Eupolis fate: who having many times brought that warlike wanton Princely Alcibiades upon the Stage, dandled on the lap of his Timandra; at last received, for those many bitter Scenes wherein he had personated to life that noble Prince, this closing Act from the command of Alcibiades: Thou hast many times, Eupolis, drowned my fame upon the Stage, I will once drown thee in the Sea.— And so sent him the way of all fish.  
But indeed, there is no Argument wherein these prompt and nimble wits are better shown than in these subjects of Love: especially, where one Object begets an amorous Contest: and breeds Corrivals in pursuit of one Mistress.  
Which encounter admits no order; nay, admits no privilege nor prerogative to nature, so it may procure that matchless booty, the purchase of beauty to her Lover.  
This, if I had a purpose to enlarge myself any further in this subject, might be instanced in the Story of the Gentleman and his son, both Corrivals to one Lady: and of the Impresses they writ with Diamonds in a Window privately, but expressively. Where the Son perceiving his Father to be far in love with her, whom he so entirely affected: and to whom, if the presence of his Father had not interposed, he might have been before that time espoused, wrote this Impress with his Diamond: Secreta mea mihi. Which posy his Father one day finding, by way of answer, wrote this▪ Et stultitia tua tibi. Which his Son chancing to read, clozed the conceit with this fancy: Nec tibi, nec mihi, sed dividatur. Which words might have relation either to the Party by them equally loved, or to the Impress before; wherein either for Love, or Folly, they might be equally shared.  
But descending from these, I pass to the next Subject; wherein Gentle speech must take your ears, as Objects of beauty have taken your eyes: both which introduce a living Oratory, to work the powerfuller effects upon your fancy.   

GENTLENESS OF SPEECH.  

MOTIVE 4.  GENTLENESS OF SPEECH is an affable treaty or conference one with another. Or, a winning kind of Rhetoric, which of all others, purchaseth most friends with least cost. An excellent grace it gives to Hospitality: especially, where a welcome accompanied with a cheerful countenance is delivered with the mouth: and an entertaining eye becomes ready to usher in that speech. Where two meek men meet together, their conference (said Bernard) is sweet and profitable: where one man is meek, it is profitable; where neither, it proves pernicious.  
Many Motives be there to induce Fancy, which well tempered, work upon no blind love, such as a deluded eye dotes most upon, but a clear and well-grounded affection. Such were those exterior goods or embellishments, which begot love in the beholders of those Sabine beauties: which so enamoured the Romans in the infancy of their foundation, as they begot a succeeding alliance in their posterity. Egnatius in Catullus is brought out showing the whiteness of his teeth. Lacides with sleek looks, and mincing gate. Pompey scratching his head with one finger. But as the wind Caecias draws unto it Clouds; so did outward postures beget sinister conceits: for Lacides could not use that sleckenesse without suspicion of lasciviousness: nor Pompey, that affected scratching with one finger, without opinion of wantonness.  
White teeth imply a strong constitution; rolling eyes, like Lais Lamps, heat of affection; with a pure Sanguine, which is ever accompanied with a beautiful complexion. That which Euryala, Nurse to that subtle Greek, praised, when she washed the feet of Ulysses, was Gentle Speech, and tender flesh: both referring to two several Senses; the one to the Ear: the other to the Toutch. Now to express the singular effects of the former, whereof we are here to treat: There is nothing that engageth more the affection of the Hearer than affability of Speech. I have known a great and eminent Person in this Kingdom; who, how undeservedly, I know not, having incurred the distastes of some Societies, touching some indirect passages, as they conceived, whereby they stood highly injuried: upon Conference with them, and declaring his innocency, not only freed himself of their prejudicated opinion: but gained their good esteem and affection. Nor is it almost credible what excellent fruits, this Gentle speech graced with a pleasing presence have produced both in affairs of peace and war; at home and abroad.  
It is the Wise man's observation: Soft speech mitigates wrath. We read of few so barbarous (if Commanders) who could not find an heart to receive a compassionate tear: nor an ear to a fair submission.  
Though Affranius, hearing his effeminate Son cry out— Alas me wretched! hate such a weak servile condition in his Son, as he seconds it with this severe reply: 
To thy bas● spirit I am suc● a foe,  
If one part grieve, let th' rest afflict thee too.  We shall find even in Strangers more pity than in such fierce Fathers.  
For in our Surveys of ancient and modern Histories: we shall find ever some Princely compassionate Spirit, though a Conqueror, suffer in his Conquest. What passionate effects wrought that sad relation of Aeneas in the heart of Queen Dido? How soon were those words (those Emphatical words) setting forth the Trojans misery, conveyed to the heart of that affectionate Lady? But indeed in passages of love; when occasions of distaste chance to be bred betwixt the parties: upon a fair and free parlance (if that happiness may be admitted them) how quickly are minds, before seemingly aliened, reconciled? Their former hate begins to resolve itself into amorous tears. So strong is the force of Gentle speech; seconded with easy reasons: which work well enough in the ear of Love: who, melting in affection, is as willing to be attoned, as the party to move it.  
Whosoever should but see to life personated that Princely Sophonisba, whose attractive Majesty and unaffected Eloquence, interessed herself more in hearts, than any Princess of her time; would conclude hence, that a sweet and debonair Speech works wondrous effects; as might appear in those moving Speeches of hers, which so tentered her Hearers hearts, as ●hee herself could not suffer more upon reflex had to her own wrongs, than they did in commiserating her wrongs.  
It was an excellent commendation which I have sometimes heard given to a Noble Peer of this Kingdom. That none ever came to him, how irresolved soever, but came away from him well satisfied. This was a great felicity: that none, were he never so dis-affected to him upon his Entry: but departed so well contented, as he won his opinion, whom he before highly distasted.  
True it is, that vulgar Eyes and Ears are only taken with outward Objects. They stand not upon sounding or examining the vessel: so it make a noise, they rest satisfied. A courteous answer or affable salute affords them sufficient measure of content: and makes them render an approvement of his affability to the World. This is very rare to be seen in the countenance of such who are advanced to high places. These can put on a stern awful brow: and make appear very legibly, how their State is changed.  
A poor State that begets pride! An undeserving honour, that moulds in the owner a supercilious aspect; a difficulty of access; a fantastic circular gate; and a surly uncivile speech! Weak habiliments of honour! But far weaker Supports to bear that Colosse of honour up, if he should decline.  
I have observed an excellent temperature in this kind, in many of our Ladies: whose pleasing countenance, & affable salutes freed them of that censure which those disdainful women worthily incur, who hold it the best posture of State to dis-value those they consort with: and as those, who are transported with an opinion of their own worth censure nothing worthy hearing, but what their selecter judgements approve. Dainty Idols to dote upon! These had need furnish themselves of witty Husbands; or the Honey-month will be soon done with them. Whereas those, whom we formerly touched; resemble Lights shining in an other Orb.  
If their Husbands be pleasant, they rejoice in his pleasure. If he suffer in any overture which he neither expected, nor his actions deserved; they bear a part in his Lachrymae. Husbands to such wife's are made happy in their choice: and have good cause never to wish a change. For they may consort with those they affect, without fearing of being called to an Evening account. If their day's expense should chance to be too immoderate; they need fear no fingers but their own, to dive into their pockets, or to make privy search for more than can be found. These need not fear to have their shoulders besprinkled with Zantippee's livery: or to have their breakfast changed into a Morning Curtain Lecture: Or to receive discipline for their last night's error: Or to wear their Night-Capps after the old fashion, with both their ears through them: Or dream, that their pillows are stuffed with horne-shaving. These can play the merry Mates with their wives, and never laugh till their hearts ache: and hear a hornpipe played, and never rub their brow antlers. If they come home late (though sooner were better) they are entertained with a cheerful welcome: They find no Pouts in their dish: nor amongst all their necessary utensils one Chafing-dish. Out of this precious Mine, was, surely, that good Burgomaster's wife cut out, who ever met her Husband at the Portell with a gentle word in her mouth; a sweet smile on her lip; a merry look on her cherry cheek; a pair of slippers in one hand: and in the other, a rubber (not at cuffs) but a Towel to rub him after his travail: whereas that old beldame Thestylis would have exchanged that rubber with an halter, if she might have had her will, rather than be bound to such a Task. And to such an one, without all doubt was he matched; who in a pensive plight, all full of discontent, published to the World, from whence he desired a speedy dismission, his hard Fortune in this Bridal Brawl.  

Married! whereto? to distaste;  
Bedded! where? all grief is placed;  
Clothed! how? with Woman's shame;  
Branded! how? with loss of Name;  
How wretchelesse is that Man that is disgrased  
With loss of Name, shame, grief, and all distaste?   

Imprisoned! how? to woman's will;  
Engaged! to what? to what is ill;  
Restrained! by whom? by jealous fear;  
Enthralled! to whom? Suspicions ear;  
How hapless is that wretch that must fulfil,  
A false, Suspicious, jealous woman's Will?   

Taxed! for what? for modest mirth;  
Exposed! how? a Stale on Earth;  
Surprised '! with what? with discontent;  
Professed! as how? times penitent;  
How can that forlorn Soul take joy on Earth,  
Where Discontent and Penance is his Mirth?   

Threated! how? as ne'er was no man;  
Fooled! by whom? a foolish woman;  
Slaved! to what? to causeless Spleen;  
Sprite-affrighted! when? I dream;  
How should th'infernal Prince more Furies summon,  
Than lodge in such a Spleenful, Spiteful Woman?   

Cheered most! when? least at home;  
Planted! where? i'th' Torrid Zone;  
Chafed! how? with oil of tongue;  
Hardened! how? by suffering wrong;  
How wretched in his Fate who is become  
Contented most, when he is least at home?   

Urged most! when? she is near;  
Ushered! how? with fruitless fear;  
Shielded! when? when I do fly;  
Cured! with what? with hope to die;  
How cureless doth that cure to sense appear,  
Whose Hope is Death, whose Life is fruitless fear?   
This wench had been a dainty dangling fruit for Timon's figtree. And very likely it is, that with one of this Airy that Falconer had encountered, or at least it were to be wished, he had been so matched: who coming to a Wedding with an Hawk on his fist, and being asked to what end he came thither, being a Marriage-meeting, and no place for pouting, with his Hawk? answered, Purposely to know how many Marriages would reclaim an Hawk. Nor did he doubt, but if such occasions had power to tame a wild Bachelor, they would in time reclaim his Haggard. Yet, for all this, his discretion by a wise moderation of his passion, might, no doubt, have rectifide much this whirly-gigs disposition: for a good jack will make a good Gill. Nor will inveighing, reviling or abusing of a Vixon, bring her to a good temper: for such usage would quickly make her madder. This was the cause that moved Socrates to forbear his wife Xanthippe, though a froward woman, because he thought he might better converse with others. Thus wise men, who are regulated by reason, and with the rule of discretion, can moderate passion, when they are matched to such Necessary Evils, can make a Virtue of a Necessity; prepare them by such trials, with more constancy to suffer all extremes. Nor can there be made any question, but such Corrasives as are applied nearest us, and upon the Vital parts, work the sensiblest effects. And who more near than our own bosome-consort: whose cheerful aspect makes all those Planets of her family successive and auspicious: as chose, her malignity begets in all those inferior Lights, the like disposition. In the description of an Oeconomick State, Aristotle expresseth himself most Philosophically, when he renders it thus: A Private family (saith he) may be properly called a little City; and a City, a great Family: where like a City without a Wall, a House without a door, a Ship without Helm, a Pot without a Cover, and a Horse without a Bridle: so is a Family, when guided by a passionate violent man, and he matched to a waspish unquiet woman. Many excellent Aphorisms are contained in Hypocrates; amongst which, this: Eight things (saith he) make man's flesh moist and fat: the first, to be merry and live at hearts ease; the second, to sleep much; the third, to lie in a soft bed; the fourth, to far well; the fifth, to be well apparelled and furnished; the sixth, to ride always on horseback; the seventh, to have our Will; and the eight, to be employed in Plays and Pastimes, and in things which yield contentment and pleasure. Yet work all these to a remediless consumption, when the Wife is transformed into a Fury, and makes it her day's Task, to put all things out of order.  
Howsoever, a great measure of discretion is required in an Husband; first, to know the nature and temper of his wife: secondly, in the carriage or demeanour of himself towards her accordingly. You see, how the same Sun works several effects upon Wax and Clay: for it softeneth the one, and hardeneth the other. Let him apply this to his own condition: by disposing himself towards her, to whom he stands engaged, nay religiously devoted by an inviolable tye of affection. I have heard of a domestic combat betwixt two, who afterwards became such loving affectionate Turtles, as nothing could displease the one, what the other affected. But before this continued peace could be procured, or these Civill-warres quenched: many domestic bicker and skirmishes were there, who might wear the buckler, and return quartermaster.  
The more he laboured to soveraignize; the quarrel ever became more implacable; for she ever ended that day's conflict with this peremptory close: Trust me, Husband, this will not do it. At last, as later considerations prove ever wisest, he recollected himself: beginning to expostulate the cause with himself in this manner. How long shall I entangle myself in this intricate Maze of endless miseries? To what purpose is it, that I contest with my own flesh? Raise a Pad in the straw: and awake a sleeping Lion? It may be her disposition is more generously tempered, than to be thus haled. Turn then the Scale; and let her enjoy the freedom of herself. This will relish better to any well conditioned nature: than ever to be contending for mastery: and make the whole Country ring with our folly. Upon which resolution, they closed together in such an equal Concord and Harmony of their minds: as they were never known to be angry both together: The one giving way to the others passion, with such sobriety and discretion; as they never afterwards needed any neighbourly Mediation. This I have the longer insisted on, because I am not ignorant how many surly and rough dispositions do abuse by their harshness the easy and well-tempered Natures of their unhappy Consorts: which might be instanced and illustrated with many Tragic and doleful examples, both in our own and other Countries: where weak and fearful natures were so disheartened, as they inclined to strange melancholic fits, and such incurable distempers, as they were never rest of them, till their tedious life left them. Others of higher Spirits, but of more vindicative natures, impatient of longer suffering, have woven up the Tragic Scene of their miseries with the ruin of their cruel husbands.  

The 〈◊〉 condition of the M●sco●ian Women.  Indeed, were all Women of that servile condition, whereof the ingenious Barcley in his Mirror of Minds, reports those women to be of; who cannot be persuaded that their Husbands love them, 
Barclays Icon animorum. Cap. 8.  unless they beat them: Correction then would be found the only introduction to affection: But these Nations are more civil; and our womanish Spirits more Virile, to endure such affronts. It is worthy our observation to relate what happened to one jordan, in his marrying in those parts; being a native Germane, and one who had accompanied Barcley in his Travail. He reports it thus: Being in those parts, one jordan, a Germane, and who had kept me Company in my Travail: fell in love with a woman there, & married her: Demeaning himself to her, as became a loving and respective Husband; but the more she was tendered by him, the more she seemed to be discontented with him. No dalliance, nor all the tokens of love or affection that he could show to her, could either win or wain her from that discontented humour, to which his too much kindness had brought her. At last, seeing that the more he laboured to content her, the less she seemed to be pleased; he takes her aside one day, demanding of her the reason of her distaste? O Sir, saith she! how should I be well pleased when you show no argument of love towards me? Not of love, replied he! what more Signs of respect can I show you, than these I already do? I am sure you want nothing. Yes, Husband said she, I want Correction: And if you did truly love me, you would beat me: as you see other husbands in these parts use their wives: for I must freely tell you, for all your professions of love and respect toward me, till you begin to beat me, I shall never be persuaded that you love me. This could not choose but beget admiration in him: yet, lest he should lose his Wife's good opinion, at last he began to follow the Country-fashion: and to give her such correction, as might sufficiently persuade her of his affection. Although, in the end, his disciplinary Love grew to be too bitter: For he broke her neck before he left her.  
But no modest ear can endure any such breake-necke-love: Wives are not to be made Slaves but Companions. And as their constitutions are soft and delicate; so should their usage be mildly tempered and affectionate. Sweet and gentle is their Speech; albeit, no Rule so general, but admits some exception; full of rich delight is their Fancy. No storm of adversity so violent, but their pleasant society will allay it. No loss so heavy, but by the enjoyment of them, supplied. Those dispersed Trojan Dames, how soon had they pacified their incensed Husbands, with a winning kiss, and a friendly salute? Their anger was soon done, when they saw those pearled tears distilling: those amorous arms spread abroad to embrace them: those pretty witty prattles they had to entertain them.  
These were such harmless careless Charms; as they wrought far stronger on the affection, than any other forcible Conclusion.  
Now, as I have formerly observed, seeing there is no Society that can possibly subsist without speech: divers qualifications are to be used, whereby that Cement of society may be better seasoned: and in all Companies better accepted: which I will divide into these two necessary precepts. The first is, to know what you are to speak. The second is, to know when you are to speak. In the former, is Deliberation; In the later, is Moderation necessarily required. He that knoweth how to speak well, knoweth also when he must hold his peace: which may serve for an excellent Rule to the Later. Think an hour before you speak, and a day before you promise: and this may usefully serve for a direction of high importance to the Former. These observed, many errors incident to indeliberate speech, may be prevented: which our too free and glib-tongued Dames are usually subject to. I have noted a kind of pleasing Dialect used by our City Dames to their Husbands: and delivered in that loving familiar way, as it infinitely became them: a kind of fondling speech, (as I may properly term it) or apish toying, neither unpleasing to their Husbands, nor unuseful to themselves: as thus:— trust me, Chick, thou shalt not.— Now, pray thee, Prick, do not.- i'faith, you're a sleake youth.— you played the wag with me last night.— well, God forgive thee.— wiltst buy me this toy, my Pigsny? These pretty prattles make me remember that free and ingenuous confession of that rich Milanese, That the strings of his purse were never so hard tied, but his Nansy had a Charm to lose them. Which brings us no less properly than occasionally to fall upon that dangerous Attendant to Gentle Speech, which we formerly particulized, to be Dissimulation: a smooth Orator, and such an one, as makes her own end, the sole Object of her Endeavour.   

DISSIMULATION.  
DISSIMULATION is most in Semblance, lest in Substance: 
OPPOSITE 4  Seeming most, what it is least: Most in profession, Lest in expression. For, 
howsoever they be, thus do they seem to me,  
They be and seem not, seem what least they be.   
Sundry proper Emblems have our Ancients fitted them withal: Some whereof have Emblematized them by Sodoms apples; fair to the eye, false at the heart: outwardly, promising juice; inwardly, proving dust. Others to the Crocodyles of Nilus; who never weep, but they intent to wound. Others to the Hyene; who counterfeits the voice of man, purposely to prey on man: and requite humane hospitality with savage cruelty. Others, to the Harpies, those three monstrous and ravenous birds, A●llo, Ocypete, and Celano, having maiden visages, but inhuman usages. Others to the sirens, the three daughters of Achelous and Calliope; who on a Promontory or prospective rock of the Sea were wont to sit, and by their sweet songs and amiable countenance, to draw passengers unto them, whom they slew. Thus laboured our ancient Emblematists to deblazon them; that like perilous shelves, others might be aware of them. But certainly, as the Fish Sepia is bewrayed by a black colour which she casteth out to cover her; So these, though Tiberius-like, they glory in nothing so much as in cunningly cloaking their purposes with fair pretences: going invisible, and deluding vulgar opinion with a Seeming good: they must come to be unmasked, and then that vizard or disguise which before kept them from discovery, shall publish to the World, that as all humane wisdom is vanity, so no vanity lighter than that opinion which grounded itself on dishonest policy. This was wittily glanced at in the Apologue: who could not endure that mouth, from which cold and heat proceeded at one time.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  Who mak'st thy tongue a stranger to thine heart,  
I hate thee worse than Hell, whosoever thou art. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Homer. 11.   
Now there be several kinds of this glozing evil: some whereof, are more pleasing than greatly noxious: more delightful than dangerous. For we shall meet with some pretty harmless dissemblers, who are so far from plotting or projecting mischief, as they intent nothing less. Their Ambition is to purchase some trifling toy, or to wind themselves into their Husband's good opinion, by pretending most what they affect least: and by relishing least, what they affect most. Like that good witty wife, who affected liberty but might seldom enjoy it: and therefore did seemingly dis-affect it; that she might oftener procure it. Of all things, Husband, quoth she, there are no pleasures I so little care for; as these Stageplays▪ they are the tediousest Shows to me, that are in the World. And this moved her Husband, who was of an harsh cross nature, to carry her abroad to Plays, which she most affected, though seemingly least desired. Another, who had a Month's mind to see the Booths, Jew-trumps, Hobby-horses, and other Trinkets in Bartholomew Fair, told her Husband, that she wondered (pretending Puritanisme) how people could be so naughtily given and profane as to feast in such Booths and Brothels of sin, which her tender Conscience even yearnd withal. Which her Husband, no sooner heard, than to th' Fair they must go: labouring to cross her in that, which indeed contented her most. But you shall find another merry Wanton, quite of another humour: Her aim is to purchase her pleasure under a virtuous colour. Her Husband, purposely to raise a rent; will have a Tenant: and many are proposed, but none as yet admitted. A Lodger he must have: and she prefers One in her thoughts: but of all others, when he is in quest, she is ever at furthest distance. This puts on her jealous Husband, who would be loath to be directed by his wife in the Choice of his Tenant, to admit of him whom his cunning wife seemingly most disliked, but really most approved.  
Now, this Dissimulation is most expressed in Subjects of Passion: as I have heard a Tale of a passionate Widow (for reverence sake, to begin with the antientst degree first) who could not content herself, but she would needs be buried quick in her Husband's grave. O, content yourself, said one of her ancient acquaintance; you are ordained for another end. But all this nothing at all seemed to assuage her sorrow: for falling into a trance, after such time as she had continued a space as one senseless; coming at last out of it; the very first words she uttered were these; Well, I will ever be of that mind, it is better to marry than to burn. That good wife, (to instance in the next Order) had a ready answer and a dainty Colour to palliate the love she bore to a Friend in a Corner; who, when she heard her Husband take notice of One of her inward acquaintance, and pointing at him in the street, using these words:— There goes a Cuckold! With speech gentle, but not wholly free from guile nor gall, she replied: Trust me, Husband, you are such an other.  
Nor was that good wench void of all good nature, but very tender (it seemed) of her Husband's safety; who hearing him unadvisedly, as he was passing over Thames with other company, (as one who wished not his own good) beseech God very heartily, that all Cuckolds were thrown into Thames! She kind heart, made answer:" Husband can you swim? Poor Girl, she doubted much his drowning; and therefore desired to be resolved, whether he could prevent it by swimming? That young wife meant, no doubt, simply; who, when one of her Bridemaids told her the same day she was married, that she verily thought, that never any day would seem longer to her than that day: Well, Sister, said she, and if the day seem long, I hope the night will seem as short. But you are cozened, Sister, saith she, to her Bridemaid: For I vow to thee, so I may but enjoy him whom I have loved and now married (always provided that he had what a man should have, and I myself satisfied, that he stood so furnished) if I should live and die a maid, i'th' same mind that I now am, I should never repent of it.  
Alas, poor fool! many provisoes were there before she could well incline unto it, yet would she seal to it, provided that he were well furnished. What variety of evasions this Fondling had, dissembling with her own thoughts: and pretending what she least meant, that she might appear to her Bridemaids more indifferent than she was, for that which she most dreamed of? A pretty kind of harmless shift! being, what stands most with a maid's modesty, and consequently in civility, merits her Apology.  
No less simply than freely, did that single woman (for maid she cannot properly be termed) answer her Confessor; who, after she had discovered to him a long Bead-roule of loose wanton pranks which ●hee confessed herself culpable of: Her Confessor began sharply to reprove her: laying open unto her the heinousness of those sins: and telling her, that whoredom was such a sin as highly displeased God. I am more sorry, said she, for I am sure it pleased me.  
There is another kind of dissimulation too, which is so far from incurring any grounded offence, as it deserves high approvement. And this is, when Beauty is not only wooed, but seemingly won, to produce some good effect; by his means who imagines himself master of the prize. Of these, to omit instances in Sacred Writ, we shall find our Stories plentuously stored. The redoubted Thomyris could practise this feat, to expedite her Son's revenge: and restore her Country's fame. This did that chaste Penelope, deluding her numerous Suitors with hopes of success: only to spin out time: and with her never-finished web to keep them ever in suspense. This did that wise but unbelieved Cassandra; who, seemingly inclined to Apollo's suit; that he should enjoy her; if he would bestow on her the gift of prophecy: which, when she had obtained, she denied him that which she had seemingly granted. But the preservation of her Chastity impaired the Credit of her prophecy: being never believed, were it never so true that she related. This pious act did that memorable Hypermn●stra, who pretending nothing less than what her virtuous aims directed themselves wholly to; saved her husband Lynceus, from that fatal massacre, committed by her Sisters, in slaying their husbands. Nay, it has been the safety of many flourishing estates to dissemble Vertue●● and to comply with the times; ever expecting some fair opportunity to put in execution, what their addressements for the public led them to.  
This wise and commendable kind of Dissimulation, some of our witty Wenches many times use; in putting on a Countenance of Disdain, at least, of strangeness towards those whom inwardly they unfeignedly affect. Nor have these Sleights produced insuccessive effects to their desires. For by this means, have they enjoyed, what their simple inclining affection would never have made them Mistresses of. For proffered fruit is sedome tasted: and if tasted, not half so well relishing, as if restrained.  
Those golden Apples which the Hesperides, those three watchful Daughters of Atlas so carefully kept; were more preciously esteemed, because they were by such vigilant beauty guarded Forts which open to their Beleaguerall. passages, unless the miseries of a long Siege have brought them to that pusillanimity, promise no rich booty: nor to the winner any glorious victory. The way then for beauty to be prized, is to be rarely seen: and when seen, so indifferently seeming to be seen, as it desires to retire so soon as it is seen. This is the lodestar to affection, to ●eeme estranged from the least thought of affection: and to fix least in that Object, which he's most interest in her heart. This that subtle Coy-duck had learned to an hair: when, if any time she were invited with her jealous Husband to a public Feast; she would always fix her eye upon the antientst and reverendst in years at the Table: whereas the eye of her inward affection was elsewhere spheared: assuring her Husband, withal, that no Sight was more seemly in her eye, nor conveyed more reverend love to her heart, than a grave Old-man, who had already spun the entire web of his Follies: and could discourse with all sobriety of what he had seen in the World. And this neat kind of dissembling pleased her credulous Husband out acry. For he believed, good man, that there was a thorough fair betwixt his Wife's mouth and her heart. Whereas, Meander had never more windings, than she had dainty sleights and devices, to delude his facility: and to shroud from the World her private affection to youthful liberty. Till in the end, found where she lest suspected: and closely enfolded in the embraces of a loose Lover, whom she entirely affected: she begun to relinquish shame, and in a public manner to contest against her Husband's disability: And how her modesty had so long restrained her: but seeing no hope of remedy, she held change no robbery: and that no Censure should thenceforth abridge her liberty. This Dissimulation produced a dangerous issue; such as a virtuous breast cannot harbour; we will therefore divert from this, and return unto the former: being such a modest bashful kind of punishing their desires: as, many times, that too much retiring or restraining of their Lovesick thoughts, procures no small distemper to those who love and would not be thought so. As it happened to that noble Italian Lady; who, loath to impart the ground of her love: or to make any other, Secretary to her own breast: fell into such a languishing sickness, as, though the expertest Physicians of those parts consulted about her; labouring by all the means they could use, and all the receipts they could apply, not only to discover the source and occasion of her grief, but alloy it: yet all their experiments were in vain: they could not find out the Cause: till she at last (drawing near her last) discovered it: For when her vital parts began to be so enfeebled, as they surceased to perform their office, and all hope of recovery perished, in the presence of her Dearest, whom, till that dying period, she never made least show of, to be her Dearest, she took leave of all the World with this Dispassionate close: Adieu, my dear Leontius. Which words were the last she ever spoke. But what deadly effect those words brought forth in her Leontius; the Story amply relates. For if the words of dying men be precious even to strangers: how impressive the voice of one we love, call and beckoning to us from the deathbed! O what a passionate conflict, what a soule-dividing combat do those words raise! How strongly doth grief and affection, like Sisiph●s loving Twins, strive to enclose them! knowing that in a short space, a very short space, that tongue, the Organs whereof yet speak, and move attention by their friendly accents, amorous interbreaths, teare-trickling adieus, was to be eternally tied up in silence; nor the sound of their words salute our ears any more. This it was, which brought heart-sicks Leontius, to his bed of Earth soon after her. For recollecting with himself, how his love was the sole cause of her death: like an affectionate Mate, who well deserved so faithful a Mistress, after her Obsequies finished, he immured himself from all society with the World, where he enjoyed himself, till his many pensive disconsolate hours brought him to her whom he loved above himself. But these are too heavy for soft ●ares. That Love deserves approvement which is till death: but that Love requires a seasonable restraint which may occasion death. Those two Lovers are more for our purpose, who one day falling into a piece of Country-love-Complement, proceeded thus: O jug, how do I love thee! Nay, you know best, said jug; but sure am I, I shall never die with loving you: No, jug, said he! But I warrant it, thou wouldst, if thou hadst an handful of me. A proper handful, quoth she. I should be much better for a bit and a buffet with't. Nay, faith, wench, I would never buffet thee, but as my Neighbour Grisedale did Guddy Tringles. Nay, Oswold, quoth she, you are cousined, I'll warrant you. Pray you say, why should you think I love you? Did you ever see me cast a sheeps-eye at you? Or did my Nose ever bleed when I was in your Company? And, poor wench, just as she spoke this, to show her true heart, her nose fell a bleeding. How now, jug, said he? Who is in love now? Not I on mine honesty.— Howsoever Oswold, you may marry me when you list, but I will never say I love you.  
When a man bleeds at the nose, and through abundance of blood is brought in danger of his life, the Physician lets him blood in his arm to turn the course of the blood another way. Let us apply this Physical experiment thus: If Love issue out in too violent a stream, it is to be cooled by a temperate expostulation with Fancy: by discussing the probability of those grounds of affection which have taken seizure of the heart. Or else by fixing our eye upon some more attractive Object, divert the course of that madding passion.  
But against these two it may be objected: For the first; that is a cool Love, indeed, that will admit of any such expostulation: for this would imply discretion; such should be as far estranged from Love, as youth from affecting the gravity of age. Love's axiom is this: None can truly love and be wise. And must affection then be regulated by deliberation? Must we examine what reason we have to love, when Love even to this day hath been ever impatient to converse with reason? Must we discuss what probable inducements we have to love; when there are no such arguments suffered to be disputed of in the School of Love? Must we fall to betray Love, in ask Friends and Parents what they will give? Or stagger at our choice, or study a change; when our choice ranks not with us in blood; or Fortunes, or disparity of years; or difference in other Tenets, which more concern us? This were cool Love! And yet should Love be so moderate, if rightly seasoned: For to make choice by the eye without relation to Reason, makes a ●oole of affection: But what receipt against love when it breaks forth into extremes? Absence from the Object you love Yea; but Love is more vehement, when deprived of her Object. It is, where Reason gives reins to Fancy. For than is the Party beloved ever made the Object of the Imagination. This begets an obstruction in the stomach▪ a malignant quality in the appetitive part. This estrangeth the Eyes from sleeping: Because the representment of the person loved keeps the Senses ever waking. This distracts the eye, and makes it look wildly: never minding that whereon it fixeth, because taken up wholly with that it fancieth. And for that (as one well observes) Love is not to be strangled, but easily repelled, and by distance allayed; and not only distanced, but by employments wearied. The way to remove an inconsiderate Love from taking too deep rooting in you, is to prevent the way of thinking of the party you love. Like that brave Spartan Lady, who when she heard of a disloyal act done by one whom she held dear; would not suffer her thoughts to entertain him; saying: He shall never lodge in my bosom, that can teach his thoughts to become disloyal. Had the Carthaginian Queen learned this lesson, she had never harboured a Servant so injurious to hospitality, as to requite her too much love with such impiety.  
Now, for the latter Objection; how should we, will you say, fix our eye upon any Object more attractive, than his person to whom we have engaged our heart? If we were, indeed, like those Paphlagonian Partridges (whereof our Natural Historians report that they have two hearts) then might we have one for an apparent Friend, and an other for a Friend in a Corner. But as a heart divided cannot live; no more can any Object really attract the eye, but what the heart doth unfaignedly love. Where the treasure, there the heart; but no treasure like Love to enrich the Treasury of the heart. The heart guides the eye: and can we turn our eye from that Object which guides the heart? This were to dissemble with love: and disesteem that which we most honour: despice that we most tender: all which would exact revenge one time or other. This were too subtle love to come from a true heart! And yet, if you desire to prevent erring, you must in this manner mould your affection. Love by degrees, was a Sages Counsel: lest by bestowing all your love in wooing: you leave none when you come to marrying. It is said of the juniper tree, that of all other trees it makes the hottest coal, and the coolest shadow: The coal being so hot, that if it be rak't up in ashes of the same, it continueth unextinguished by the space of a whole year. Be you such sweet junipers; Woooers are but Shadows, saith the Poet; be your shades cool; but your coals hot. When you are once come to the height, heat and true fervour of love: let no steames of foreign fancy darken it: no storms of adversity weaken it. Yet let the Introduction to Love, after you perceive a likelihood of proceeding, be so managed; as your too much coyness occasion no discouragement. For by that means may you timely avoid, what your disdain may otherwise deservingly inflict. But of all others, beware of Love-letters; for they are such Injunctions as you cannot appeal from. With such reservancy then become Warders of your 〈…〉 uningaged hearts, as your Favourite 〈…〉 never show witnesses against you under your hands.  

☞  I knew one, who, excepting this Error, demeaned herself in actions of discretion and modesty, above the reach of scandal or reproof; But betraying her love to the secrecy of Pen and Paper; and falling afterwards to inconstancy, engaged herself to her forsaken Friends privacy. Who so tendered her esteem, that till such time as she had made an apparent breach and violation of her vow, by relinquishing her former choice, and bartering love with an indiscreet exchange, never disclosed those sacred-secret ingagemenes she had made; but with a constant defence of her honour, laboured ever to cover her shame.  
And this is the worst kind of dissembling in affairs of love. For to dissemble or double with ones Faith, is a dangerous equivocation: being such, as makes the Party which showed inconstancy, of all others, most miserable in their affection. For it is not the outward rite only which consummates a Sponsall love: For if their hearts be not linked, before their hands be ever joined: their house music is very likely to close in discords.  
As I have sometimes heard a pretty pleasant Story, of two, who after such time as they had been a 〈◊〉 ●hile married, fell into such debate an● variance, as all such as neighboured near them▪ were wearied with them: but their next Neighbour worst of all, for it was his hard fortune, good man, to ride for them. After they had continued thus for a good space, in these civil broils, without any amendment: One Evening, being in bed together, says the Husband to his Wife: This is a wonderful thing, that we must after this manner all the year long make our House a Fencing-school: Sure, Meg, quoth he, we were not rightly married, or else we should have lived more peaceably together: for we have not any two Neighbours that so fearfully baste one an other. What thinkest thou, Wife, if we be married again, and see if that will mend the matter? The Wife easily consented to his motion; and held it fitting, saying, she would do any thing for a quiet life. With all speed than runs her good man to a Sir john; who, as he could read on no book but his own: so he was of no such deep reading as to know whether Re-marrying were lawful or no.  
A new Bridall-feast is provided; Friends invited; nothing wanting to perfect what they both intended. At last, coming to the Church, Sir john falls to work; where he goes on still and without interruption, till he came to Who giveth this woman to be married, etc. and holding her by the hand, looking ever when some one or other would do the office of a Father, to give her: No, says the mad Bridegroom, none shall give me her; take you her, Sir john, as long as I have had her; and if she be not worthy taking, why would you give me her?  
But to dwell a little longer on this Subject, now in agitation; as pure love can admit no dissembling: so are young women to be cautious where they fix their love. Many shall they encounter with all, who profess affection to all. But their drift closeth ever with such a Curtsy, as may hazard their honour. These are our Libertine Bachelors, who choose rather to graze in Common pastures, than Enclosures. Yea, many of these will boast of your Favours: and i● public places speak liberally of will do before their sweet Husbands departing; With— hay ho— what shall I do dear Love, if you die? Marry another (says the Comedian) before one stitch of his shrouding Sheet be broken; or those flowers which stuck his Corpse, bewithered; or one Wormling entered his Coffin. Yet will these cunningly disguise their solace, and with tear— blubbered vizards close up his eyes, and infinitely rejoice in that last office. Then must they at his interment seemingly desire to be buried with him; rave, and look distractedly, as if fancy had brought them to a frency; leap into the Grave; and perform all these pageants with such a completegrace; as not a Neighbour attends them, but suffers with them: commending their simple hearts, for leaving with such unwilling hearts their faithful Husbands.  
But this sorrow is nothing so sincere as the Story of the Indian women discovers the lovely and lively effects of their mourning. Who upon the interment of their Husbands, strive (by way of an amorous Encounter) in relation of their deservings to him, and his expressions of love to them, which of them may have the honour to be buried with him. The Body of the Story presents itself thus: The women of India, when any of their Husbands dyeth, are wont to fall in contention through the vehemency of their affection, which of them (for they have many Wives) he loved best in his life: She that winneth, being very joyful (and solemnly attended by a great Company of her Friends and kinsfolk following her) is cast into the fire with her dead Husband.  
But were these, whereof we now discourse, put to that Election, a short strife would end that contention. They must live by the quick and not by the dead: and a living Dog is better than a dead Lion.  
But the wantonest of these cannot be so light, as their Gentleman Usher is, for most part lose: whom to the end we may here portray in his own Colours, and to life the better, we have delivered in a Character; which without any other discovery will present you him in his feature. Yet before we go on in this lively delineature of so dangerous a Piece: Our purpose is to propose some reasons why we have here brought him upon the Stage: and with what propriety he falls upon our discourse; which may appear in a more copious and perspicuous manner in this our prepared relation hereafter.  
There is a conceited Treatise composed by an Italian (as what wits more pregnant or present) entitled a Supplication to Candlelight: discovering the abuses committed and curtained by the silent and secret Shade of Night; where it might be demanded, as God in Esay did sometimes ask the devil our watchman, Custos, quid de nocte? What seest thou? what discoverest thou? Though Lantern and Candle-light hang out; though the Belman traverse the street; though the Constable and his rugged Gownemen after a nod or two, take care for discharge of their place and punishment of vice, to put out a peremptory Question to a Nightwalker, from whence came you? or, whither go you? whom do you serve? or, what business have you so late? yet it seems they have no Commission to examine Coacted sin: These may hurry along by their Noses: and shroud a loose Gentleman-usher with as light a Courtesan in a running-Brothell from those conniving eyes of Endymion and his brotherhood. And this light piece must be conducted to his Lord, while he is to be admitted to his Lady; to present both their Actions on the stage of Folly. With what a commanding posture rides this Foot-cloth sin? How apt to forget his composition; and how confident in the privilege of greatness? These, generally, have their Purveyors to furnish them with such stuff as may content their liquorish appetite, and feed their intemperate desires with fresh fuel. In every Solemn or Festival Show, these Foragers take their stand: eyeing what beauties are of most attractive quality: then inquire they of their places of habitation: Occasions they take to converse with them: and in short time so to win in upon them: as they begin to commend their Master's suit to their too easy attention: and with long battery, according to the strength of the Fort, so seize on their affection, as they make entry to their Lord's admission: clozing their indirect aims with an unlawful Conclusion. These Contractors for blemished honour; or those obscene Palliards, who prefer their traffic in sin, before the treasures of Zion: were sit attendants for that wanton Damasella, who portrayed the affection of her heart in as light an Impreze; writing these lines with her Diamond in a Window: 
The choicest Cates soonest ●loy the appetite,  
One is too st●le a dish to feed delight.   
Her Choice, it seemed, affected nothing more than Change. She could not conceit how any love could possibly be so pure, as to be confined to one Object: or so firm▪ as to restrain itself to one Friend. Her Barge stood engaged to many Owners: Whosoever would hazard their fame upon the adventure, might find her as ready to impaune her honour: This was the condition of that Wanton Florentine, whose direction it was to some of her closest and secretest retainers, to invite such, whose personages promised performance, to their Lady's house: for whom she had a private Garden-house, where she would as freely impart her Courtesies, as if one hour had made them commanders of her affections.  
This was far from that chaste and temperate sovereignty, which that ever honoured Lady bore over her desires: who being one day highly advanced for those exquisite parts which did accomplish her: and that incomparable beauty which made all others inferior to her: answered her Husband, upon the recital of those endowments, in this manner: Trust me, my Ephestion, if there be any thing that may merit love in me, I shall only value it so, because it pleaseth thee.  
Now, there is nothing that estrangeth affection from the party whereto it stands religiously engaged; but either Contempt of that Object which it ought to love: or self-opinion in conceiting itself too worthy of that Objects love. For the former; many Tragical instances might be produced: where the Parties Contempt begot in the Owner such Discontent: as nothing could heal it, but what did seal it with blood. Which distaste, as it is privately grounded, so these dangerous Agents, for most part aggravate it: Suggesting to them other beauties, or promising personages to to alien their affection from their own. Now, for self-opinion; it is such a working illusion, as it presents myriads of fancies to the imagination. For if it be in the Woman, it begets in her such a disdain: as first, she entertains her Husband with a rare access: She prescribes seasons, which, good man, he must observe, or keep his distance. But a short time makes a perpetual Progress betwixt them. Beds must be divided: A Countenance of strangeness entertained: The Baths must be visited: Private Friends admitted; Now, Gentlemen-ushers provided, such as can be secret, and with resolution perform their errand. Her Doctor must tell her, and in the presence of her Husband; that living apart for a season would be infinitely useful and behooveful to her weak Constitution. And he believes all; puts up all; prays for his wifes needless recovery: while she, kind Duck, wants nothing but fresh employment for her Libertine Fancy.  
Long would it be, ere she would give that repulse to an importunate Suitor (if his presence deserved the stile of a Lover) which that virtuous Theodora did to an eminent personage: whose inward parts, as they were exquisite, so were his outward highly accomplished. Who, being long time solicited, but never vanquished, at last, by her virtuous instructions, she so won in on him, as he began to conceive a remorse; and to turn the course of his affection to a virtuous admiration. This, when that Noble Lady perceived, to strengthen those good motions in him, which formerly had been so far estranged from him; One day, after such time as they had long discoursed together, but in such manner, as nothing was less intended than actions of dishonour: and he, taking a Lute in his hand, had played Lacrymae unto her: she forthwith, returned that Lute-lesson with a fair requital in this pious direction: Lacrymae should not only be in the eye, but stamps of more retentive sorrow in the heart: A Pilgrim's passage is such a passionate progress, as it cannot be pursued without Sobs: nor continued without Sighs. I have found sufficient occasion for that Music: nor can ● eye that place, which may afford other Melody. A continual Sinner, and a rare Sigher, promiseth small comfort hereafter. Our days are but few and evil. Not an hour without some Crime to accompany it. Let the Soul never receive her surfeit of sorrowing, till she he's first found in herself a loath to sinning. As your toutch makes this Instrument speak tears; So let tears of Devotion trickle upon the Strings of your Heart. This will make you a noble Lover, and more enamour you in the Contemplation of your Maker, than ever you were taken with the deceiving fancy of any Creature.  
Now, if this Self-opinion domineer in the man; how quickly dis-affects he his Choice? No House more estranged from him, than his own. No Bed more dis-relishing, than what should be most pleasing. If he at any time make his Gallery of the Street: his eyes are so far from imitating the Swan in fixing them on his feet, to bring him in a disesteem with himself, as they gaze upon every Belcone. Not a window opens; nor a painted face looks out; nor an enforced smile; nor leering eye; but these enjoin a Salute from him: an amorous humble Cringe to an unknown face: a formal curtsy, to a borrowed beauty. This Object sets his unfortunate Genius a work. He h'as taken precise notice of her lodging: although her movable estate will not suffer her to sojourn long in a place. And he resolves to lie siege to this easy-wonne Fort, and to call her to Parlance by Paper-pellets. To the Sovereign then of his thoughts, whose short acquaintance might in modesty impose a silence, he addresseth his letter, like a soone-taken Lover: His Page must deliver it; but so weak and imperfect was his Master's direction: and so little to life this Maddona's description, as many times, foolish Boy, he miscarries in his errand.  
As it sometimes happened upon like occasion, when an amorous young Gallant, and a professed Courter of Casements: having taken especial notice of a young beautiful Lady, who, as he thought, deserved as much love, as any earthly beauty cou●d possibly merit: and collecting by her eye, that there was no aversion in her from fancy; sought by all means to become partaker of his hopes; which all the better to expedite, he sends his Page with a Letter to intimate the constancy of his zeal to her; and how he preferred her affection before any contentment whatsoever. This unfortunate Boy, whose heedless care to his directions, made his Master as hapless in his affections, comes to this Gentlewoman's Lodging, where he delivers his Letter, but to another hand than he was directed to by his Master. Howsoever, the ancient Matron, who not only by the benefit of the room that was dark, but with her cypress hood vailed, perceiving well she could by no means be discovered, or distinguished; not only received his kind amorous Letter, but returned by the Page another: acquainting his Master, that, albeit nothing was more precious to her than her honour, and how many spies were over her in regard of her strict charge, which was given the Matron of the House by her Father: if he would privately come to such a place such an Evening, and return her some valuable pledge of his professed affection, she would dispense with what she tendered most, to second his desires. How acceptable this Letter was to this frolic Gamester, we need make small question: But tedious seemed the hours till this Evening came: which winged his loose thoughts with all speed, to approach the place of meeting. And to the end, he might with more freedom enjoy the Object he sought; he had furnished himself of a rich Juell, to engage his affection unto h●r; and to confirm what he had professed in his respect to her, whom he so highly honoured. The experientst old Madam, who had more ways to the wood than one; faithfully observes the time: and in such a disguised way, as she might be the Grecian Helen for aught that he could see. A sweet perfumed Room; a rich bed; and so closely curtained, as old age from youth could not be discerned. Nor needed he to fear her coyness; though she pretended at first a kind of apish niceness. For the long Custom and habit of sin had so enured her, as nothing less than modesty or shamefastness could possibly become her. Having now received the Gentleman's Juell, which she preferred before all his dalliance: she entertains him with as free and liberal an embrace, as her icy-cold arms could afford. But scarcely had he entered that Brothell-bed, or enjoyed his sere and meldewed Mistress; but a fearful cry of fire breaking forth with much violence in the very next Lodgins, with scaling Ladders raised to every Window, prevented the unfortunate Gamester of his decayed pleasure.  
The unwieldy Beldame, not willing to die before she were better provided for it: leaving her Mufflers behind her, crawls with the best speed she can from her shuddering Gallant: who seeing, by the light of the flakes of fire, and multitude of Toarches without, the bald Scalp of his Chop-falne Bedfellow: made no less haste in flying away from that Hag, than she did to escape from the fire. Nor could they without, cry faster Fire, Fire: than he within cried, A Fiend, a Fiend. Nor had he power to get out of the Chamber, so surprised he was with terror. Till all fear of fire being removed, and all occasion of further dispersing it, prevented: The Constable of the Ward being desirous to know what raised that cry; entered the room, where he found this half-distracted Gentleman, running up and down the Chamber: and this decrepit Chrone, shoulder-shut with a fall, lying all along behind a Trap-door. But when the Constable had heard every passage, upon the Gentleman's relation, who uttered nothing without much distraction; to cool her fancy, and temper his frency; he made bold to bestow them both in convenient Lodgings for such unseasonable Trade. Which egregious disgrace so reclaimed him, as loose love for long time after was a stranger to him.  
The like Story might be here related of a young Prodigal; who, after such time as he had betaken himself to a Choice: One descended of a noble family; and adorned with excellent Ornaments to accomplish that descent: growing weary of the enjoyment of one beauty: & affecting nothing more than change: after many modest Curtain. Lectures which his wife had from time to time delivered unto him, to decline him from that loose course which threatened to him and his posterity an approaching misery: fell to that debauched and exposed riot both in the Choice of his Company, and prostituting himself to all inordinacy: as it begun to lessen the respect and affection of his wife unto him: holding equal distance with him, as he to her.  
It chanced one time, that this Nightwalker traversing the Streets: and with other Associates exposed to the like looseness, entering an House of good-fellowship, where any light Commodity might be purchased for money: the Protectress of that brittle Society, to discover her Office and quality; demanded of these Cavalieroes if they would have a Withdrawing room and a Mistress? By all means (said these Gallants) for what end came we hither? And having bestowed them in several rooms; Every one was readily furnished with his light Courtesan. But this prodigal young Gallant, on whom the Subject of our Discourse is here Sceaned, had of all others most property in his: for she was his own wife. What a strange kind of passion or Antipathy this intrview begot, I leave to the strength of your imagination; who can to life present two such Objects, as if you had been in presence of them. Long was it ere the one could utter one word to the other: with glowing blushes sometimes disclosing passion, sometimes shame. Affection was far from giving way to any amorous encounter: and though Looks might speak, their Tongues had quite forgot all Dialect. At last, after a long continued silence, in an abrupt disjointed manner, her Husband addresseth himself thus unto her. Ha, Minion, have I found you? Have your many Curtaine-Lectures edified you thus? Have I found your way of trading? and are these the fruits of your teaching? well! go on. We are now both so far entered the high beat-path of folly; as it were madness for us to hope ever to wipe of our dispersed infamy. No Sir, quoth she: To despair of recovery, were to conceive a distrust in God's mercy. But believe it, Sir, howsoever you esteem me, I am not what I seem to be. These are no places I affect; nor trading I conceit. I am what I have been ever; careful of the tender of mine honour. Now, the occasion of my coming hither, was the knowledge I received, how this House was your familiar Rendevou. A place which you mightily frequented: and where your fame stood dangerously engaged. Your person I described to the mercenary Governess of this hateful family: that if I might be exposed to any, it should be to such an One as I described: which upon hope of sharing with me, she promised. Now, Sir, reflect upon yourself, in me: how odious would these foul actions of looseness appear in me? how contemptible would they make my person appear to any modest eye? And are these such inexpiable crimes in the Weaker Sex: and must they be esteemed such light Errors in you whose strength is greater? Is modesty too effeminate a quality for man to retain? Is the Spirit of man to be employed in that most, which detracts most from man? O, recollect yourself, Sir! and you will see, nothing can more transform you from yourself: nor blemish your inward beauty; nor enslave you to servile fancy; nor deprive you of future glory, than affecting of these Consorts of sin and shame. The only conduct that these will afford you, is to the Hospital, where they will leave you. Be pleased to put off yourself a little: and with a single eye to observe their light Embraces: Proceed these, think you, from a resolved love? Will they not for base lucre, show as much kindness to their next Suitor? And can there be any true affection, where the Party makes no distinction? Nay, tell me, would the faithfullest acquaintance you have amongst all these, relieve you, if your Fortunes had left you? Or afford you one nights Lodging, if want surprised you? Have they not got the art of professing what they least intent: and sacrificing love where they have none to bestow? Return then to your own house: and find that in a lawful love, which you shall never enjoy in hateful lust.  
This advice delivered by so deserving a Creature, and in so winning a manner, might have wrought singular effects in any pliable or well-disposed Nature: but so strongly steeled was his relentless heart unto these, as with a disgraceful and uncivil kick he pushed her from him: vowing, withal, to publish her shame to all the world, if she desisted not after that time to solicit him, or personally to repair unto him.  
So strongly had those loose and light Consorts seized on his affections: as stolen Waters seemed to him the sweetest. A conjugal joy, was a servile yoke, which his misery afterwards felt: being both by friends and fortune left. For having offered the remainder of his decayed estate to that Common Sewer: he died a miserable unpitied Beggar. Whence we may collect and confidently avouch: That a great office is not so gainful (though too many at this day in their rising revenues to their injurious owners highly useful) as the Principall-ship of a College of Courtesans: no Merchant in riches may compare with these Merchants of Maidenheads, if their female Inmates were not so flitting.  
This may appear in those useful Collections gathered out of the History of Italy: the truth and authority of which testimony, if we may credit; Rome wanteth no jolly Dames, specially the street julia; which is more than half a mile long, fair building on both sides; in manner inhabited with none other but Courtesans; some worth ten, some worth twenty thousand Crowns, more or less, as their reputation is: And many times you shall see a Courtesan ride into the Country with ten or twelve horse waiting on her.  
But to look back upon our discourse: As there is nothing more dangerous to youth than self-opinion; so is it a cure of greatest difficulty, having taken once seazure of a Woman. This that flourishing State of Mantua was in great hazard to have felt: when Isabel wife to Luchino Visconti, Lord of Milan, a very fair woman; feigned to her Husband, that she had made a solemn vow to go in Pilgrimage to Venice: and under that colour, obtaining licence, she took Mantua in her way; where she lodged in the house of the Gonzagis, ancient friends unto her Husband. And after she had supped, sent secretly for Vgolino; unto whom she declared, that for the fervent love she bore to him, she had taken on her that journey: beseeching him, in lieu of her entire affection, to keep her company unto Venice.  
This Loves-intended-Pilgrimage came to the ear of Luchino; who provoked therewith, laid siege to Mantua; albeit, finding the friends of Vgolino innocent of the fault: and that Guido his father did his best to correct him, Luchino through intercession, raised the siege.  
Fitting for our purpose is that Story which our modern age brought forth, being in effect thus. There was a dainty beautiful young Lady, who, self-opinionate of her own worth, after such time as she had been a space married, fell in dis-esteeming of her Husband. He, having sought by all means to regain her good opinion, and to ingratiate himself in her respect, which his own parts well enough deserved, howsoever he stood in her books neglected: could by no means receive a pleasing countenance from her. Which distaste wrought so strangely and strongly on his spirit; that could never stoop to baseness: nor engage his noble thoughts to an ingenerous revenge: (though many visible Motives might justly enrage him: and cause him transgress the bounds of patience;) as he resolved to betake himself to Travail: that so by distance of place he might in time banish from his thoughts the cause of his discontent. But long had not he there remained, a banished man from his Country; but desirous to see some other Nations, and so by improving his knowledge, learn to forget his grief: then being embarked in a Merchant's ship, bound for such a Coast, they were so encountered by contrary winds, as it happened that they arrived at a small Port-town, within his own native Country, where his Lady at that time resided, by occasion of some Fortunes lately to her descended. She, who, kept a liberal Table in the absence of her Husband, dis-affecting nothing more than privacy: hearing how a Ship was there lately arrived, and divers Strangers of seeming quality entered the Haven: Caused the Groom of her Chamber to address his way to the Port: where, if he found any one of graceful presence or personage, to invite him withal unsuspected privacy to her House. Her command is observed: and to second his Lady's desire, he finds none more likely to tender her content, than her own Husband.  
But before such time as her Servant, sent forth upon this message, would return his errand; he seriously eyed that Stranger: perusing his complexion and favour, which discontent and his late absence had so estranged from his knowledge, as at first he could not know his Master. But at last, becoming assured that it was no other, & desirous to do him a pleasure, as became a faithful servant to so respective a Master: yet without so much as discovering himself, or acquainting him with any plot he had; he privately at first returns his message from his Lady: but withal, desires him, as he tendered a Lady's honour, to use all secrecy: that his Lady's freedom in her respect and entertainment to him (if any such curtsy should appear) might be free from all discovery. This the Gentleman promised, though wholly ignorant what was intended. Meantime, her honest Groom returns an account of what he had done: acquainting his Lady, that a Gentleman of as proper parts, graceful presence and hopeful performance, was that Evening landed▪ as ever his eyes beheld. And withal, how he had taken occasion to deliver her message unto him: and with what modesty it was by him accepted: and how to prevent suspicion, his desire was with all privacy to be admitted by some back way unto her Chamber, and without Lights (fearing above all things the discovery of his Master.) Easy admittance is granted, a private way over a Moat, environing the house, is prepared; nothing neglected, that might promise to this seeming stranger free entertainment. Nor is her servant remiss in aught that may facilitate his lawful affectionate desires. One thing only he conceives himself to have omitted, which might conduce highly to the effecting of his plot. He perceives a Diamond-ring upon his Master's finger, well known to his Lady by a private Posy: This, he wisheth him, upon his mounting the Stairs, and entering into her Chamber, at his departure, to bestow upon her. For, said he, our Ladies in these parts never receive any strange Servants, but they expect some token of their Love should be left them, to renew their affection upon next acquaintance: and give them more confidence of their secrecy.  
This Lady longing for the embraces of so accomplished a Guest, as her Servants relation had described him: with a countenance as clear, as the room was close, had long before this prepared a welcome for him.  
Albeit, upon his entry into her Chamber, he found no person there to entertain him: Only a Lamp darkly burning; which showed him sundry choice and dainty Succots, with other acquaint Junkets: wherein, no doubt, Art had shown herself such a Confectionesse, as nothing was there awancing which might enliven Nature, or Italian-like, inflame vigour. Having taken a taste of such Places as best liked him: a Fair Canopy-Bed, with Curtains close drawn, invited him to take a further taste of what better entertainment was prepared for him. And having made himself unready, and drawing the Curtain a little aside, he might perceive a Creature in the Bed, but seemingly covered with clothes, as one unwilling to have her own eyes witnesses of her too much freedom. Which the rather quickened in him an ardour of affection: so as like a bold Stranger, he addressed himself to that forward and lawful encounter. The Comic effect whereof, upon discovery of him by the ring, produced (to omit all other circumstances of dalliance) a constant reconciliation betwixt them. All which was brought to pass principally by her Gentleman Vsher. But all of them are not of one stamp, as you may perceive by this Character.   

A GENTLEMAN USHER  
IS his Lady's Creature; One who stands much upon his dimension and posture. A tall man he is of his Legs, and no less it behoves him to be tall of his Hands; being engaged to such desperate Encounters for the Wall. Pretty fool! He carries his Ladies Misset most gracefully, which she loves so tenderly, as she is ever putting him in mind of his charge: Pray thee Puny, do not squeeze my puppy. Continuance of employment makes him in time grow more familiar with his Mistress; Which makes her chastise the Sauce-boxe with her glove; mean time, the man knows her mind. He bestows so much time in the pointing of his Stellettopeake, and powdering his Locks, as he leaves little or none for his Orisons. He makes his whole Pilgrimage on earth a continued Peraembulation: and having learned to pace from his youth up, he can never show himself commendable but in that garb. He had an excellent shaped Leg, and a sufficient Calf, but every thing is worse for wearing. If to reserve more state, the house be divided, and his great Lords rooms from his Ladies severed; he is sure to be one that must lie on his Lady's side. Should he fall of in his posture, through debility of nature; her Page must be preferred before her Usher: and the reason is, a Cock-Sparrow is more active than a Bald Bussard. He h'as a notable volubility of tongue; which he tips with such formal protests, as he will engage him yours, before ever he know you. He knows how to play the Secretary; and is oftimes put to't. Blush he will not, lest it should unrivet a Secret in his message. He reserves no time for reading, he bestows so much on walking; unless it be some wanton Pasquil, a sociable account whereof he makes his Pastime. He h'as at all times ready access to his Lady, which procures him better success in his Suit to her Lord. He must make no love to the Maid, lest it beget a jealous suspect in the Mistress. Affection cannot brook Corrivals. If his Lady grow sickish, and desire to take fresh air, the Coach must he mount and jog along with her; where the Curtains must be drawn, lest the light discover her, or the air distemper her Here they couch as silent as a Charnell-house, but that mansion of frailty they never remember. The height of his employment principally consists in ushering his Lady to the Church; where it is admirable, with what punctual observance he conducts her to her Pew, kisseth her book, as if he had sworn by't; and to prevent all rash intruders, he stands at the door, like a pious-pretending Pimp, as if he were to keep Centinall there for ever. And this he conceits to be one of his most tedious tasks; because Subjects of that nature do not altogether please his taste. It is rather his Element to be versed in the perusal of Play-bils, which he presents to his Lady with great devotion; and recommends some especial one to her view, graced by his own judicious approbation. His choice she admits: to the Playhouse she resorts: enters a prime box, and upon close of every Act, gracefully whispers in her Usher's care; commends their action, and now and then at some amorous-moving passage, plays at Cent-foot purposely to discover the pregnancy of her conceit. At Night, if her Gentleman hear of a Court-Maske, Show, or some other Presentment of State; Cupid be their Guide, winged is their Speed, eager is their Spirit, swifter is their Pace; so they may enjoy the Object that may please, and close their day's prelude on Earth, with an Evening interlude of Courtly mirth. But here, this Gentleman Usher must show himself rough, that he may get his Lady better room. He must puff and look big, and swell like a pageant of State. A soft spirit would bar them both of all entertainment. By this his Lady h'as got a place, which was his Master-prize. The Presentment done, he must Usher her home; which performed, a curious Knot of valiant Skinkers must Usher him. The Cellar is their Centre; where they must drink deep their Lady's health to do them honour; though a lasting surfeit reave them of all health for their labour. Here he inhabits till he take a nap in the Cellar, or the napry Drawer become his Gentleman Usher to waft him to his Chamber. Now for his Place, though his revenues be but small, his veils are great. His Lady's Purse is his portion, which supplies him so long as he keeps Counsel. Her Countenance is his greatest purchase, so as, by the loss of her favour, he dies a Beggar. The fortune of a younger Brother called him to this place; since which time, he he's ever walked most uprightly in his Vocation. But if the Master be a Tradesman, the Foreman of his Shop supplies this place, whereby he is made for ever. For if this reverend Trunk-hose turn up his heels, whosoever stumble on his Grave, his Foreman Usher is in fair possibility, to enjoy his grath. One of the greatest of his fears is Corns on his toes: His Mistress cannot endure halting; nor the condition of his place lumping. Vulcan's polt-foot befits not an Usher, nor his smug-looke a smooth retainer. His comfort is, as he begun with a small stock, so he cannot fall from any great state. As his risings were light, his height low, his continuance short, so his fall cannot be great. Truth is, if he live to be his Master's survivor, (provided that he flourish in strength and ability of nature) he may prosper. But for most part, his Master out wears him, as he in his time outwrought his Master. The Meermaid h'as left him, but not without Consorts to attend him. Aches, Cramps, and Ring-bones are his incessant Associates. And now he walks more upright than ever he did, for he cannot stoop, should a Diamond lie in his way: He remembers the follies of his youth, with— O the reins of my back! He needs no other rack, this will make him discover all. He is much troubled in his Sleep, and awakes with an ache, which he utters in a shriek:— O my Mistress! 'Tis a wondrous thing to see how this spruce youth is metamorphosed! How his wild-luxurious beard grows unkembed, his lard-twilted doublet goes unbuttoned, and his Eve-dropping nose flows like a common Sewer, and would bestow itself on any one that would wipe it. Well; he cannot possibly stand long; for his very legs, those proper Supporters of his youth, may now truly cry out with aged Milo; they cannot bear a Calf. It might be doubted, that death were better provided for him, than he provided for it, did not poverty bid him embrace it, and a Myriad of infirmities summon him to it. There is hope of him, for the flesh had left him, before he left the World.  

☞  But we have insisted too long on these; let it be sufficient, that as there be some of those who retain this name, properly ranked in our Character: So be there those, whose better parts merit all approvement: But one Swallow makes no Summer: the Object of pleasure many times makes shipwreck of honour: whereas others, for whom we will ever reserve our deservingst approvedst thoughts, will rather choose to leave their Coat in the hand of a loose Mistress, than lose their honour. That Maxim, indeed, is too holding: if we be companions to Ostriges, we shall savour of the Wilderness. Nor, is there any Rush without Mire: yet a Myrtle will show itself a Myrtle amongst Nettles. And such we have of these; whom neither occasion can corrupt; opportunity deprave; hope of fortunes delude: nor any indirect way decline from professing themselves just in discharging that place, wherein they stand necessarily interessed.  
Now, in our diversion from these, we are to descend to Subjects of higher and more serious importance: yet such, as reflect ever upon the female Sex, wherein pleasure and profit, which ever make up the best Music, shall hand in hand accompany you; to second your expectance with such variety, as our Discourse may amply recompense a retired hour with double interest to Posterity.    

SECTION II. Imitable Virtues in Women.  

EXAMPLES.  
VIRTUE is of such a rare quality, as she can neither be over-prized, nor over-praised. Nor can this Princess, whose beauty is her own, without borrowing; and whose honour is essential in herself, without deriving, show more true worth than when she deigns to lodge in that bosom, which may seemingly dignify her least; though, indeed, by a modest improvement of what it hath received, it magnify her most. For to descend to the quality of every 
* Th●se four Cardinal Virtues are resembled by S Ambrose to those four Rivers which issued from the four borders of th● Garden of Paradise. In lined Paradiso. c. 3.  Cardinal Virtue: we shall find rare instances in each kind; and such as may deserve imitation of the stronger Sex. And first of the first.   

PRUDENCE.  
SOME jeering Swetnams, 
PRUDENCE.  whose strength of pen and ability of brain only consist in inveighing against Women, will not stick, perhaps, to laugh, when they hear us speak of Prudence, and attribute a great portion thereof to a Woman; and will say, Truly we have heard of some women called by the Name of Prudence, but endued with Prudence there is scarce one amongst them, no not One. A weak inve●tive! It is sufficient, will these poor Critics say, for women to have so much wit as to go out o'th'raine: and some of them not so wise, neither: but like that simple She-cockney, imagine all the world to be a City, and every way they travel, such a continued Penthouse, as they need neither Cloak nor Hood to shroud them; so well h'as the world's Archi-tect provided for them.  
But how far these err, we shall quickly discover; by those memorable and surviving monuments of Wisdom; which Women not only of former ages, but even in our own times, have expressed, and to posterity recommended.  
And first, to take our instances from a far; how much did the Prudence of Tomyris bestead the Massagetes; when by her own policy and dexterity of wit, she discomfitted the powerfullest and redoubtedst enemy that the World then had? In what a deplorable estate was her Country; when nothing but fire and fury assailed them without: want and famine within? When their strongest Forts were quite demolished? Their fruitful fields wasted? And their people, by a fruitless resistance of a victorious Foe, consumed? Nay, reflect upon the miseries of this desolate and disconsolate Queen! how her son by an improvident and remiss mannagement of his affairs, became a Prey to the Enemy: his Army vanquished: himself slaughtered: all things disorderly scattered and confounded! Yet, was her spirit still the same. She well considered, if in that disaster her courage should quail, what could probably follow but an irreparable Subversion? Though few or none then were left to afford her remorse: neither was her Spirit so weak, nor Wisdom so small, but they had power enough to study a revenge. Which she effected with such expedite policy; as she not only freed her distressed Country of that threatening calamity: but imbrued her hands in the blood of her Enemy, to revenge that cruelty which he had not long before inflicted upon her own blood. Nor did this Wisdom of hers only appear in the Government of her State: but in the composing or moderating of her own affections. For whereas, her command had so far enlarged itself, as many neighbouring Prin●ces stood in fear of her: doubting that their more confined dominions might be swallowed up by her Greatness: Her Noble Spirit scorned to take advantage of others weakness: or to soveraignize over those who never gave her occasion of offence. In a word, as it was her care to preserve her own; so it was her Princely scorn to invade another's. This moderation she showed excellent testimonies of, in her death aswell as life: When she commanded, that this Inscription should be engraven upon her Tomb: purposely to make a trial, as it were, whether the same height of spirit succeeded to Princes of following times, which sometimes possessed her royal breast. The Inscription was this: Who ere thou be'st that shalt have the fortune, amongst other rich booties of thy Conquest, to dig up this Stone (meaning that Monument which covered her) know, that thou shalt find an infinite mass of treasure, fit to enrich thy princely honour, under it. But what found that victorious Monarch under it? Nothing less than he expected. No gold; but such a golden sentence as incomparably surpassed all Treasure that could possibly be buried under it. For when he had carefully removed the Stone, he found this engraven under the bottom of it: None but miserable Covetous men would violate the Obsequies of the dead: or with profane hand disturb the quietness of those that sleep in the dust.  
Many other excellent virtues was this Noble Princess endued withal: which for brevity sake I must omit: passing to others of her Sex, who not only equalled, but far exceeded the most eminent Personages of their time in the prudent Carriage and Dispose of their affairs.  
This that stately Semiramis showed in the wise and peaceable government of the Assyrian state after the decease of her Husband Ninus. What excellent Laws were by her enacted? What Principles of State recorded? How free she kept her kingdom from division? How safe her utmost Coasts from invasion? With what policy, she sought to remove from herself and people, all opinion of effeminacy: and produce in others a conceit of their magnanimity: when she commanded all without distinction, to wear Tyars upon their heads: and to put on them women's apparel; purposely to cover their effeminate parts: and by an Amazonian imitation to beget a confidence of resolution in her Neighbours? How careful she was to insinuate herself in the zeal and affection of her Subjects? What a wise course she took to effect it? And in what short time did she confirm it? Admired she was by those to whom only report of her Wisdom had made known the greatness of such a Spirit: enriched with such transcendent gifts: as it was not easy to determine whether the height of her Spirit for achieving, or strength of judgement for contriving more exceeded. To sum up all in One; and all this in an imparaleled One: had not one stain blemished her beauty, she had been a Princess of incomparable majesty.  
Nor did that glory of Amazon, the invincible Penthesilea fall short in those accomplishments fit to manage a State: and to leave precedents both of Wisdom and Courage for posterity to imitate. How well she rectified the disorders of a distracted Empire: and in every Design expressed herself glorious to the improvement of such a State, and the advancement of her honour! This might be illustrated by one Instance: For at such time, as Neighbouring Princes disvalue their Feminine Government: and every one laboured to enlarge their Dominions by the Subjection of that State: She not only preserved her own from the injurious usurpation of foreign Powers: but won of those, who were hopeful to make a prey of her. Nor was she only careful to establish the foundation of an Empire for an age: but to recommend such useful Laws and Constitutions as might settle a prosperous State to their Successors. Many famous Battles did she fight: and those with the renownedst and most victorious Princes that then reigned. Yet seldom or never was she discomfitted: But if at any time it chanced that she should suffer, her moderation and discretion so temperately bore the loss, and so diligently laboured a redress; as the second day made amends ever for the former repairing her losses both with advantage and honour. All which I refer to those Stories, which with most probability and authority discourse of her.  
What wisdom that excellent Sophonisba manifested to the world, in the discreet carriage of her affairs: if it were needful here to relate, we might apply this Subject, in the instancing of her virtues. Who so nobly demeaned herself in the daringest affronts of fortune: as never more true resolution or constancy of spirit appeared in the most virile and heroic tempers that ever the world became possessor of.  
Extremes could not amate her: nor distractions of State so divide her from herself: as, when her advice was sought, she could show the least perplexity in her well digested thoughts. Her own safety was never so dear to her, as the Security of the State public. And when any of those ancient Counselors or Conscript-fathers', who were to sit at the Stern; seemed troubled: or showed the least irresolution, she would usually interpose herself: and chide their weakness in this manner. Is it fit, grave Fathers, that your advice should be to seek, when the State is ready to sink? Will dejected spirits cure our distempers? Must Fathers turn Children, and put finger i'th' eye, when imminency of peril menaceth the State's ruin? Has your Country made choice of you, to embathe her wounds only in tears, and to labour no redress to her griefs? O, let not wisdom only appear in your habits, but disposition of your hearts! A passionate tear is but a weak Countermure to repel the Engine of a Foe. Let it be our Task, who are women, to intercede by Prayers and Tears: yours, to remove danger with Courage and Advice. We are neither so abandoned of solace in hope, as to lie down and die: as if our present condition had estranged us from all hope of recovery. Be what you seem, or we must seem more than we be. Present danger requires dispatch: let not opportunity lose herself by delay.  
Next her, I might here instance the brave Berenice, a woman of incomparable beauty; alacrity of Spirit; strength and maturity of judgement. Next her the Sabean Queen, that wise Nicaula: a Princess so highly taken with the fame of Salomon's wisdom: as she left her own Country to be one of his Auditory: leaving him with this attestation of him: I believed not the words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it: and behold, the half was not told me; thy wisdom and prosperity exceedeth the fame which I heard. Nor could so diligent a pursuer of Wisdom, be in herself ignorant of so inestimable a blessing. Never did State enjoy more freedom; nor abound with more wealth; nor partake so continued a peace; than Sheba's State enjoyed. Nor could aught less be expected, where such a Lover of Wisdom reigned. For if Plutarch commend Plato so highly for coming forth of Asia into Cilicia, for no other cause, but only to see his dear friend Photion: what commendations might this noble Princess seem to deserve, who, though a Woman, left her own Nation to hear the Wisdom of Solomon? Should we, next these, take a more exact Survey of the divine Prudence of royal Esther; whose discreet behaviour purchased God's people so happy a delivery, even in their imminentst danger? Or of that wise Abigall, whose discretion declined David's fury from her churlish Nabal? We would so highly admire such precious Mirrors, for their piety, policy and discretion, as we should account them wisest and deservingst, who drew nearest them in imitation.  
Neither shall we need to travel so far for instances: but that those flowers are ever esteemed best of, that are brought from foreign borders: For Princes we have here enjoyed of our own; whose names retain in all places of Christendom a memorable testimony for Wisdom.  
Witness the living fame of our renowned Eliza, who made her kingdom an Elysium. Being of a Majestic presence; judicious advice; constant resolve; terrible to her foe; affable to her friend; a gracious preserver of peace; a courageous advancer of War for honourable ends. Of a rare memory; a rich fancy; for dispatch happy: and in present dangers fullest of noble spirit and alacrity.  
And these shall serve for Instances in the first.   

JUSTICE.  

JUSTICE.  THIS divine virtue, which is an Abstract of all the rest, that noble Thracian Lady well expressed; when, unurged, she professed: That if she were conscious to herself of any Crime deserving death: her own actions should not need to receive any other sentence than her own. So impartial a Judge would she demean herself in her own particular; as not the severest Court should pronounce upon her an heavier Censure.  
When that just Alban Lady heard what Demadis saying was, that Draco's Laws were written with blood, and not with ink: far be such Rubrics, quoth she, from our Calendar: Let mercy and truth kiss each other. That royal Empress showed herself a Patroness of justice: when on a time the Emperor her husband had presented to him the Names of sundry Delinquents; to receive from him his pleasure how they should be disposed of: which, as one minding more a game at Tables, than pronouncing judgement on those offenders, he commanded without any further deliberation, that they should suffer death. O, quoth that worthy Empress, let not my Lord be so forward in pronouncing judgement upon an untryde delinquent? the life of a man is to be valued above a game at dice.  
Just was that Dame towards her own; when hearing, how her daughter had violated that Order whereto she was Vestally devoted, she came before the Senate, and beseeched them for justice: who, when they had understood the quality of the Offence, and how the offender was her own Daughter: They made answer; you need little doubt of Justice, in a Crime of such a nature: yet might this personal offence have well deserved a Stranger rather than a Mother to be an Accuser. O, answered she, but Nature must forget herself, when unnatural Children forget God. She was my daughter so long as she preserved her honour: my part is now quite lost in her: Be it your justice to vindicate the Wrong which my blood hath received from her. Else shall I conclude, that your unjust mercy is to me a cruelty, which Vesta will revenge to redress her injury.  
Excellent was that resolution of those Almain Sisters, who professed in a public Place of Judicature; That they would rather suffer the utmost extremes of want and misery, than share in the Fortune of any other unjustly.  
The like example might we her produce of a noble Gentlewoman in our own Coast: who by the prodigal and dissolute Course of her Husband, falling into great poverty: was so far from inclining to any thought of Baseness; as when her powerful friends, commiserating her present Condition, wished her to inquire of something that might raise her Fortunes, and they would use means for procuring it: O, quoth she, I know well how to shape my mind unto my Fortune; but I hope my thoughts shall never know how to screw themselves into an others possession.  
What shall it benefit me, said that noble Matron, to enjoy what belongs unto another▪ and betray my Fame, which I should prefer before all other? I cannot live, and be unjust: for life consists not in being, breathing, or performing any outward action: but in a pure and undefiled Soul, raising her thoughts to an higher Motion.  
When the Sabines had suffered that infinite injury, in being deprived of the beauty of their virgins: though they might (probably) have taken fit opportunity for revenge: O, said those ancient Matrons, let us first see how these Strangers use our Daughters! if they demean themselves lovingly unto them, it were unjust for us to take revenge of their Husbands for the Love they bear to their Wives: Honest Love should be rewarded; dishonest revenged.  
In that Election of Consuls, when the virtuous Aurelia understood that her Husband sought indirectly for voices; O, said she, This argues in you a diffidence of your own worth: desist then from standing for such an honour, which your personal actions can not merit, nor these mercenary votes and voices obtain, without detracting from another.  
justice, when perverted, may be compared to the Celedonie stone, which retaineth her virtue no longer than it is rubbed with gold: but when employed to the preserservation of the State, and dispensation of what is just to every one, being neither induced by amity, incensed by enmity, nor corrupted with hope of commodity: this divine virtue may be compared to the Selenite stone; a precious gem found in Arabia, which is of this nature and property, that when the Moon increaseth, it likewise increaseth in beauty: but when the Moon decreaseth, it lesseneth of her splendour and glory. It retains likewise another quality; and it is this: Being tied to any Tree, it makes it fruitful: The application will appear both proper and useful. When Changes in the State are most frequent; when Command seems to soveraignize most on these smaller and inferior Lights: then is she most constant: in her beauty most resplendent. Neither can Might oversway her: nor a despicable Plaintiff dis-relish her. She ever shows most Constant; when times seem most wavering and fluctuant. Nor is any branch so sere; any member so fruitless, in the whole body of the State; which her application cannot make fruitful: so sovereign is she in herself, so commodious unto others.  
Happy, will some say, were those days wherein Basil the Emperor of Constantinople lived; that whensoever he came to his Judgement-Seat, found neither Party to accuse, nor Defendant to answer. Here needed no Conscript Fathers to sit upon trial of Causes: no fear of Corruption, because that Halcyon peace admitted no occasion: What wilt thou give me, was no Interrogatory in those days. And yet me thinks that noble Princess, in the moulding of Justice, and fair carriage of all business; made her State no less happy; who decreed: That if any plaintiff exhibited a Bill against any person, and could not prove the justness of his Action; he should pay treble costs to the Defendant: and besides his pecuniary Mulet, receive such corporal punishment as the quality of the complaint deserved. This made commencements of Suits as rare as the former; by reducing the State to such an exact Order; as neighbouring Princes had her in admiration: taking Precedents from her of State-Government, to second her Rules in a serious imitation.  
Thus have you heard how this Virtue, which our Philosophers have resembled to the Evening Star for beauty; hath been so carefully observed, and constantly preserved by women: as they addressed their endeavours to no Object more seriously, than how they might improve her glory. Let us now then see what they did in honour of Temperance; a Virtue which seasoneth and relisheth the rest with her presence.   

TEMPERANCE.  

TEMPERANCE.  EXTREMES are those Shelves on which Virtue suffers. Livia dispatched her husband, because she loved too little; Lucilia, hers, because she loved too much. But that noble Lady observed a fair and equal temper betwixt both these: when she proposed this Conjugal Rule unto herself: As I made a Contract with mine heart not to change, where I made my choice: so I resolve to retain that command over my affections; as neither my too much loving him, shall feed in me jealousy: nor my too much coolness beget in him a conceit of my inconstancy. This Virtue fixeth mainly upon three Objects; the Irascible, when Passion labours to soveraignize over Reason. The Concupiscible, when outward Motives produce in those divine Organs of the soul, some discord or distraction. The Intelligible, when the light of the understanding becomes darkened, by some light Object of Vanity interposed. For as the Eclipse of the Sun is occasioned by the interposition of the Moon; So is the Light of the Soul eclipsed (in resemblance of the Moon) by the interposition of the Earth.  
For as the Moon doth never Eclipse but when she is at the Full: so the Mind is never so much obscured, as it is with the superfluity of riches. And again, as the Moon is the furthest off from the Sun which giveth it light, when it is at the Full: So a Man when he is fullest of Riches, is furthest off from that equity and justice, which ought to give him light, in all his proceedings.  
For the first; The Saying of Archytas is much commended (nor deserves it less than to be highly approved) who being angry with one of his Hinds, said: O how would I have beaten thee, had I not been angry with thee!  
The like commendations deserves that well composed temper of that Sage Chilo; who observing his Brother to be discontented, for being rejected in standing for Ephorus, and himself elected: wished his Brother not to take his repulse impatiently: for I must tell you, said he, that you were altogether unfit for the place: seeing, your high-unbounded Spirit cannot bea●e the height or burden of an injury, but I can.  
Nor was that Noble Lady's temper to be less admired; who professed in a place where her innocency had borne more than humane patience could well suffer: I have learned, quoth she, how to suffer, but never to suffer myself to give way to anger.  
Secondly, for the Concupiscible part; that Lady, though an Ethnic; had been fruitfully Schooled in Morality, by confining her desires to bounds of such equality; who with much confidence affirmed: I have made a constant League with mine eyes, never to fix on that Object, with desire, which I may not with Lawfulness enjoy.  
Armenia, a noble Lady, being bidden amongst other eminent personages, to King Cyrus' Wedding, went thither with her husband. At night when they were returned home, her husband asked her, how she liked the Bridegroom; whether she thought him to be a fair and beautiful Prince or no? Truth, says she, I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon none other, but upon thyself.  
So well had she limited her affections; as she would not suffer her eyes to wander: nor to be deluded with the glances of an unlawful Lover. For eyes are those Tarpeja's, or privy Conspirators, which lay the Fortress of the Soul most open to advantage. Nor would the Heart give way to an unjust Love, if a leering eye threw not out first a Lure. For this end h'as that wise Creator made it a Sense of Sorrowing, because it is a Sense of Sinning. That a Conduit of tears, might better rinse that kennel from whence the occasion sprung.  
Nor have these Feminine Wonders expressed less command over their desires in contempt of honour (an attractive bait to that Sex) in their disesteem of riches, or pomp in apparel; dangerous Motives to unsettled Souls. Where you shall find one so respect less of Honour; as being offered her, she finds this answer to her amorous besieger: I have ever preferred the honour, which a precious fame bestows on me, before that painted adulterate honour which any wanton favourite of the time can purchase me.  
Here shall you find an other so indifferent for Fortunes; as her attestation is this: No poverty can amate me, so I enjoy myself: They cannot but have sufficient, who are sufficient to themselves: Whatsoever is without us, should not transport us too much by enjoying: Nor deject us too much in the losing: No true State, but the inward Store.  
What excellent Rules were these to mould the mind to every condition, according to that philosophical Maxim: Learn in prosperity to be silent, and not transported; in adversity to be patient, and not dejected; in neither to be discontented; in both, discreetly and philosophically affected.  
Here shall you likewise find an other so humbly minded; for outward Habit so indifferent: as she professeth; No Habit can beseem beauty, but what suits with decency. This might be instanced in those Virtuous Votaresses, who were so little taken with any outward wear: as they hated nothing more than such light phantastik attires, which lay baits for others eyes. Modesty they only affected both in behaviour and dress: which begot them more honour, though less opinion in the eye of lightness.  
That Habit, said the Roman Citizen to his  
Wife, doth well become thee:  
Trust me, quoth she, I did not hold it so,  
till I heard it from thee.  
But, whereas this Subject of Temperance, whereof we now treat, is most expressed in abstaining from luscious fare, precious liquors, amber-broaths; with other foments of sensual delight, we shall find what rare and incredible austerity many noble Dames used in their practice of that restraint. Where some became so abstemious in that kind, as they observed Lessius Diet: in proportioning themselves such a weight or measure, as might sparingly suffice but never surcharge Nature.  
far short of this Temperature came, indeed, the Wife of Domenico ●ylvio; whom our Italians report to have been so delicate a Woman, that she would have dew gathered, and in precious vials conserved, to imbath herself withal, with other rich perfumes and choice confections: and yet see the end of all these delicacies! e'er she died, her flesh did rot, that no creature could abide her: so much had loose effeminacy corrupted Nature.  
For this one, this exemplary enormous One, I could instance many of her Sex, whose noble minds were so far aliened from such delicacy, as they would hardly suffer themselves to be invited to any Public Feast, lest they might occasion others censure by their abstinence. Others in a retired privacy, (too monastic a course for our Gentry, whose education hath begot in them more desire of liberty) have embraced reclusive lives; contenting themselves with such homely provision as that remote Place or Desert could afford them, where they had taken their Plantation.  
The Romans, indeed, even at this day▪ make Recluses of their own Houses; and whether out of jealousy or some other innate quality, will not suffer their Wives to go abroad, either to Church or any place else, and some of them scarcely to look out at a Lattice Window; whence that Proverb came up: 

In Roma vale piu la Putana,  
Che la moglie Romana:   

In Rome the Harlot hath a better life,  
Than she that is an honest Romans wife.   Nor was ancient Rome less cautious of preserving the modesty of her Women: by preventing the use of that which most endangers Temperance; whence came up that Custom, for kinsmen to kiss their kinswomen, to know whether they had drunk wine or no; and if they had, to be punished by death, or banished into some Island. Nor was there any respect or restriction, if we may credit the testimony of Plutarch; who saith, that if the Matrons had any necessity to drink wine, either because they were sick or weak, the Senate was to give them licence, neither were they permitted within Rome to have that liberty; but out of the City.  
This restraint those Noble temperate Ladies little needed, who held it an high derogation to their honour, to consort with any wine-bibber: or such, whose liberty had made them subject to any such ingenerous distemper. Excellent to this purpose was her saying: She knows not the true estimate of her honour, who dare expose it to danger. Nor was her Resolution less useful, though, perhaps, too general; who hearing her Waiting-Maid to be distempered with liquor: Waiting woman, quoth she, you may call her; Maid you cannot, being subject to such distemper.  
In a word, hear what those brave Roman Ladies held of Temperance: We had rather, said they, suffer the extremest assaults or braves of Fortune, than lose the least grain of Patience by giving way to Passion. A deserving Memorial! which carefully retained, may regulate in us those straying affections which usually distract the mind; enfeeble the spirit; and make the noblest Creature by this ignoble servitude, more savage than any other.  
Thirdly, for the Intelligible part; what quickness and pregnancy of conceit hath appeared in women, may be collected by their ready Answers; and upon more deliberation, their weight of reasons: whereof I shall here in this place speak but little: having occasion to treat more amply of this Subject, in that Section wherein I am to speak of their Witty Aphorisms, which long preceding times have recommended to Posterity. Where you shall find such a complete Structure both for height of wit and depth of understanding; that as Cicero sometimes said of Galba's leaden and lumpish Body: His wit had an ill lodging. So without offence might it be spoken of those in respect of the weakness of their Sex: They had rich stuff for such weak houses. So preciously were they stored; so richly beautified; so completely furnished with all intellectual graces, as shall appear in his due place. And so we will descend to the last of our Cardinal Virtues: Even that which may seem most estranged from their Nature; yet through the strength and vigour of their spirit, enlivened in the highest measure.   

FORTITUDE.  
SOME will merrily say, 
FORTITUDE  We like not well that you should commend Fortitude in a Woman. We have Zantippe's enough in the World, who can break the pate of a Philosopher, without ever studying for a Plaster. Their strength and spirit should consist in Tongue: for them to be provided of any other armour, was never so much as intended by Nature.  
It is true; Nor is it our purpose to present them here playing their Prizes: but to express their resolutions in time of danger, wherein they came ever off with their Country's safety and their own honour.  
Though my Sex proclaim me weak, said that Noble Matron, I have a spirit in me can supply that want. Yet should the rigidst Censor be more charitably persuaded, than to think that she would employ this noble spirit of hers in trying mastery with him to whom she was to acknowledge a superiority.  
Epicharia, that famous Libertine of Rome, though she complied well enough with her Husband; expressing that obedience, which became a loyal Wife, patient in suffering; meek in remitting; kind and loving in all offices of affection; yet made privy to a Conspiracy against Nero (that prodigy of Princes) would not disclose the Plotters thereof, though tormented with cruel punishments. She choosed rather to suffer the exquisitest torments that could be invented by the hand of Cruelty, than to discover them who laboured to suppress his tyranny.  
Leaena, though a Prostitute, was endued with a brave spirit, who conspiring with Armodius and Aristogiton, her familiar acquaintants, against the Tyrant Hippeas, stood not aghast at the death of her Friends (though torn with extremest torments) but holding it baseness to reveal the Complices, bit in sunder her own tongue, and spit it out in the Tyrant's face.  
But you will say, these were too fierce and furious spirits to be enclosed in effeminate Casks; we will therefore give you a touch of such, whose moderate and well-tempered dispositions expressed their worth, even in a princely command of their desires in outward things: scorning to lament for losing what they could no longer possess: yea, so little joy conceived these on Earth, as they equally rejoiced in foregoing or enjoying whatsoever they possessed on Earth.  
It was a fair and imitable resolution of that well-affected Gentlewoman: The extremity of Fortune I shall little fear, seeing the worst she can do me, cannot make me base.  
Nay, even in the deprival of those blessings which more nearly concern them; and such as should touch Nature even in her bowels: have some of them shown such constancy of spirit, as they were ready to minister advice and comfort to those, who in respect of their Sex and Place whereto they were called, might more properly have seemed to perform that office to them. This might be illustrated by a domestic instance of our own. A person of high quality and rank, no less than a Counsellor of State, hearing the report of the death of his Son, fell into such a passionate overflow of sorrowing, as he would scarce admit any one for the present to have access unto him, or to minister any arguments of comfort to him: This his discreet Lady well observing, thought it best to supply that Office herself, which others had so fruitlessly laboured to put in practice: So as one day, she begun thus to expostulate the grounds of his sorrowing in this manner. Good Lord, Sir, has your wisdom so much forgot itself, as not to reserve one minute for recollecting your dispersed thoughts? Are all these tears for the loss of a Child? Me thinks, my portion should be as great in that loss, or else I fall off from the proportion of a motherly love. But I conceive, Sir, and this no doubt, your Wisdom will see into; That as we first received him, so we have but rendered him back to him from whom we had him. Again, Sir, should you but consider how ill these tears would beseem you, if the State should look on you: you would soon take truce with your eyes, and teach them not to darken that Light, which should employ itself in direction of the State. Who knows, but that our child's death now in his prime, prevented him from seeing and suffering many miseries in his time? The sewer his years, the fewer his tears. Let us then with patience recommend him to him who first gave us him, and now has taken him: lest through impatience we offend his Majesty; who if he chastise us, it is but justice: and if he spare us, it is his mercy.  
But this Fortitude, which we here treat of, consists most, in respect of the Subject we now handle, in a Constancy of retaining what is privately committed to them; next, in opposing whatsoever relisheth most with their affections. Truth is, though some too Satirically compared a Woman to Danäus tub; fitting her with no better Emblem; but as that Tub could hold no water, no more could she retain long undiscovered any secret or counsel committed to her: yet may some of them, the worse sort I mean, be properly compared to Sieves, who let go the best, but keep the worst: as the better sort may be resembled to Fans, which let go the worst, and keep the best.  
There are many chattering jays, that have no feathers: who cannot hear of a Storm, but they must make the whole Forest known to't. It is said of Geese (Birds, whose very appellations design their simplicity) that when at change of seasons, they pass from Cilicia over the Mountain Taurus, which abounds with Eagles: fearing their own Secrecy, they carry Stones in their bills, for fear their cry should discover them to their Enemies. Reason, whose portion is our beauty, and whose gift our Maker's bounty, should teach us that, which Nature hath instructed them; lest by declining from the rule of Reason, we become inferior to them who never had the use of Reason. For there is nothing which so highly disparageth a reasonable Creature, as by too prodigal a discovery of himself, to lay himself open to the trust of an other. So as, it may be positively averred; There is nothing that betrayeth a man so much to ruin as his own credulity. Had that strongest of men seasonably foreseen this, he had never been betrayed by a Dalilah. Yet have I heard some, and those cautious enough in other affairs, lay down this for a Conclusion: That they would never entrust them with their bodies, to whom they durst not communicate their Counsels. Which can hardly be without danger: but being an Error of Love, and no Love of Error, deserves a milder Censure. An alluring she-Gossip is a perilous Jngle to siftout a Secret: and a rare constant Spirit has she, who amidst freedom of mirth, retains a power in herself to conceal it. Nor (indeed) can such merit aught less than sharp reproof, who with the abuse of a minute's liberty, to engage a strange ear to their attention, will expose the Secrets of so dear and near a Consort to Censure and Detraction.  
Dionysius gave strait commandment, the head of Bryas, one of the Gentlemen of his privy Chamber, should be cut off, for telling Plato, who had demanded of him, what the Tyrant did, That he had stripped himself by reason of the heat, and was painting in a Table: So tender were Princes of their actions, even in affairs of indifferency: for had Dionysius been never worse employed, his reign had never incurred the title of Tyranny.  
Husbands, who are Princes in their own Families, are to be strict Censors of Such, who are apt to discover what they hear: and to enlarge it too, in hope to gain more atttention from an itching ear. Nor, in very deed, do such men deserve less rebuke for their facility, who so freely impart themselves to those, be they never so near them, nor seemingly tender over them, who have no ability to conceal what in Counsel is committed to them. As we use then to try Vessels by their sounds, so were it good for us to try before we trust. For if She, whom you have made choice of, have such a retentive faculty, as she holds not her own reputation at an higher estimate, than your secrecy: As she is your Bosom-friend, so let her be your Secretary. For if that which you impart to her, tend to your comfort; her Communion will augment it. No single Instrument be it never so singular, can render the ear so full Music, as a Consort. Again; is it any occasion of discontent? Her sweet society will allay it; by cheering it, if she cannot cure it. Many such excellent Creatures shall we find in the world; who affect nothing more than to share in their Husband's misfortunes. To be most of all his, when he is least his own; Bearing the countenance of his Fortunes in their face.  
And these be they, who well deserve to be retained in Counsel by their Husbands: because they prefer his Comfort before their own, or equally as their own: and value his Secrecy as their own Safety.  
As for others, who are too openhearted, to have any thing in Counsel to them imparted: Let their Husbands imitate that discreet Grecian of former times, who being told that his breath did smell, answered; It was by reason of the many Secrets, which had a long while lain rotting and putrifying within him. And may they ever rot in them, rather than communicate them to such dead flies, who will corrupt whole pots of the preciousest Ointments. Let their Bosoms (those divine Recluses of Secrets) be like the Lion's Den in the Apologue; towards the mouth whereof the prints and prickings of sundry sorts of Beasts might easily be discerned, but from thence none at all.  
Let them always, even in their Curtaine-conference, talk with Harpocrates, at the Sign of the finger on the Mouth: and learn of Anacharsis that the Tongue hath need of a more strong restraint than Nature. And that there is no greater argument of true Fortitude than to conceal from others what were fitting to be concealed; and with a religious piety to retain, whatsoever is by others in secrecy recommended.  
Let them not be so curious with them of Bethshemesh, 
1 Sam. 6.19. 2 King. 20.13.  in the search of other men's Secrets; nor yet too careless with Hezekiah, in the discovering of their own. Morality gives them a prohibition for the One, and a Precept for the Other: 
Seek not to others Counsels to be known;  
But known, conceal them as they were thine own.   
Now, for the other particular, consisting mainly in a strong and resolute Opposing whatsoever relisheth most with their affections: There is no point of Magnanimity of higher degree or nobler quality than this.  
Milo showed not half so much strength in bearing a Bull; as Stilpho did in bearing what most opposed his Will.  
That Wife of Bath, upon whose Tale, at the instancy of some peculiar Friends, we have by way of Comment, lately annexed some Illustrations, could tell you well enough, what would please a Woman best. Now, when that Will or sovereignty of Command receives her Countermand from Reason: so as the Course becomes diverted, by declining from what the Party most affected: what a brave conquest is this; and how well do the Professors thereof deserve a virtuous esteem?  
She well expressed this in herself, who though naturally jealous, and (perchance) had sufficient Cause given her to be so, being in Company where she heard at large of those jovial pranks of her Husband, was so far from inclining to passion, or falling into any humour that might give them occasion of suspecting her jealousy; answered: Content yourselves, I do not hold myself so unworthy of his love, as to have the least Conceit that he will be kind with any other.  
It were no less rare to observe some of our women; who stand most affected to curious Apparel; and to comply with the Fashions of the Age; to decline wholly from that humour; by affecting plainness: and with an entire distaste to all garish vanity, to entertain no other habit than what might best suit with the modesty of their sex.  
Nor would I have this to proceed from sullenness: as I have sometimes noted in a fantastic Lady in this Kingdom: who in her private Chamber or Garden would accommodate herself like a complete Gallant: but if any Neighbouring Gentlewoman came to visit her, she would put on her meanest Apparel, saying; Such stuff was good enough for such course Guests. No; such Malevolees are made to grind and grate the hearts of their Husbands: by affecting nothing more than to cross them most, whom they are bound to oppose least.  
Those, whom we here propose for Patterns to imitate; have set their rest on this resolution: Never to give way to their own Wills: but if they desire liberty; to curb those straying desires with a convenient restraint: remembering, how Dinah by gadding lost her honour.  
If Luscious Fare; to moderate them by an imposed abstinence: holding Cleopatra's banqueting an introduction to her wantoning. If entertaining of amorous servants; to shut their doors from any such admittance; knowing how that Vestal Virgin impeached her fame by too freely admitting and conversing with Crassus.  
Now, this noble resistance is best expressed, where opportunity is most frequent, and the strength or vigour of nature most predominant. It was an ample addition to Penelope's honour, to have an Husband so far distanced from her; to be encountered with such confluence of Suitors; to live in the prime of her youth divided from her Mate, and to preserve her fame so unblemished: as those who were most confident of her affection, could never so much as justly boast of any favour received from her, the giving or receiving whereof might trench upon her honour.  
Some women, and those of noblest rank, have we here had; who not only declared to the world their true fortitude and virtuous resolution in the lifes of their Husbands; who in martial affairs and other public services, lived long time divided from them: but even after death, retained such constant Memorials of them: that though they wanted their Persons, they kept their Portratures ever near them. Nor held they this sufficient, unless by a perpetual Widowhood they had preserved their Names in them. Their rooms bore the habit of mourning; Funeral Lamps were ever burning; No musical strain to delight the Ear; No object of state to surprise the Eye. True Sorrow had there her Mansion: nor could they affect any other discourse than what to their Husband's actions held most relation. Each of these with good Cornelia could play the Mourner, and breath out their passions in this manner: 
Pompey's my Husband wheresoever he be,  
None in Cornelia he's a share but he.   
But to instance this resistance of Will in One for all. That discreet young Gentlewoman deserved so well in this point, as we cannot without injury to so meriting a Subject, omit her. One, for descent ranked with the best: of excellent natural parts, and those enriched with such gifs of Grace, as very few equalled her, none surpassed her.  
This Gentlewoman, having received singular breeding, and all liberty she could possibly desire: Falling one day into a serious Consideration of her own state; debated the matter with herself in this manner. I have thus long lived, and enjoyed what liberty or pleasure I desired. Young I am in years: yet though my years be few, many are mine hours of fruitless expense. Delicacy I affected, and none ever was more cockered. Public places of meeting I frequented; and from these have I ever returned more depraved. How tedious was an hour employed in devotion? How short, bestowed in any light recreation? How many Mornings have I sacrificed to my Glass? With what winning looks have I opened my windows; while the Windows of mine own body let in sin? With what Care were my breasts laid out, to take a wand'ring eye? How pleasantly to my light ear sounded any amorous discourse? What a Wardroabe of vanities had I in store to catch a vain Passenger? How happy were I, if I could but find one day that might justify her plea for that day's employment? Was it not mine highest ambition to be impaled with multitude of Suitors? Was it not my glory to triumph in their repulse: and to supply their decrease with an admittance of fresh Servants? Have I not expressed most scorn where I received most love? Have I not solaced myself with their sighs: and highly prided myself in putting on a Countenance of disdain? Was there any dress so fantastic, which did not quickly take me? Did any habit less please me, than what seemed most graceful in the eye of modesty?  
What rests then, but that thou redeem the time? Put off that Habit of Lighnesse which thou hast so long affected: address thy thoughts to win nobler Suitors than thou hast hitherto desired. Thou art but yet in thy Prime; defer not one hour longer from rescuing thine honour. Blush at those sensual delights which have so long ta'en possession of thee. Let it be thy greatest scorn to blemish thy Souls glory, with making an Idol of a light portion of earthly beauty. And though thy youth will hardly admit so strange an over-ture: let it be thy Task to prevent occasion, and to subject Sense to the command of Reason. The more difficulty which attends the Task, the more glorious shall be thy victory. One minute is too long, to adjourn such a purpose: Bid adieu then to thy darling pleasure; and that for ever: so mayst thou enjoy those will last for ever.  
Nor was this Noble-femal Convert slower in performing than she was in promising. For desiring a small portion from her Friends, to support her with a Competency of livelihood: with a constant resolution she bad farewell to those misspending pleasures which she formerly so tenderly loved. embracing a private retired life, where she bestowed many precious hours in Devotion to her own Comfort and others direction. A rare Precedent in this Age, for one in the very flower of her age, to change the condition of light love, with the profession of a strict life.  
Thus have we made appear unto you what excellent Professors, and Practisers Women have been in all these imitable Virtues, with store of choice Examples in each of them. From these we are to descend to their Moderation of Passion, wherein, as in all the rest, we intent to be as brief as may hold with the quality of the Subject whereof we are to entreat.    

SECTION III. Their Moderation of Passion.  
TO vindicate their weak Sex from what they are most taxed: and clear them in the testimony of Opinion of that wherein they stand most censured, might seem to some supercilious Eye a task of main difficulty: And yet such a Province are we to enter, and to accomplish (if our hopes fail us not) to their demeriting honour. Nor do we assume this Task, to ingratiate ourself with that Sex: For our decline from youth hath wained our affections from all such Objects: but to bestow upon such as deserved well of Opinion, their just character, reward and guerdon.  
It is our common English proverb, The Worm will turn again: and weak women, who have no other armour to shield them, no other refuge to shroud them but a few hasty words, or passionate tears, must needs plead their innocence, when injuries shall assail them, with such supplies as Nature has afforded them. Yet even in this defensive provision, I shall instance some so rarely moderate; as discretion enjoined them silence in the one, and resolution a masculine patience in the other.  
At that unexemplary disaster at Cannae, when the utter ruin and overthrow of the Romans rung in every place (not to mention the well-composed temper and resolution of the men themselves) with what moderation of passion did those Roman Dames bear themselves? far were they from shedding effeminate tears, or exclaiming against Destiny, or demeaning themselves in any thing unworthily. No, their spirits were inflamed to better and higher designs. Let not there Occurrents amate you, said they to so many as survived that slaughter; if you want of your own Sex to supply you; behold your second-selfes ready to die with you. Perish you cannot without us, you may with us. Hearts we have that shall not fail you, so long as you fail not from doing what may become you. On then with resolution, and let Apulia know, where you suffered this disaster, that Rome can want no Soldiers so long as she has women to defend her honour.  
Yea, should we relate what incomparable moderation of passion, those famous Roman Matrons expressed in their great trials of patience, we should find it more easy to admire them than imitate them. Though Octavia suffer in the highest measure; she can pass over her indignities with a sweet smile: and slight her too good grounds of jealousy, with a winning Letter, wishing only her Husband to be tender of his honour.  
Porcia can suffer in a noble manner for her endangered Lord, yet scorns in tears to manifest her love. Her study is to second him with advice, to prevent danger, come off with honour, and leave to posterity a memorable testimony of his valour.  
Tanaquil, that noble Lady, wife to Tarqvinius Priscus, can in the lowest ebb and defluence of Fortune, encourage her Husband to noble attempts: saying, it was not the property of a brave spirit, to lose any part of his courage for an adverse encounter, or put finger i'th' eye for any disaster▪ but to arm himself with resolution so much higher, as the insulting braves of Fortune have brought him lower. Nay, consider, quoth she, how Fortune owes you, so much as she has taken from you.  
By which advice he became so strengthened, and by her persuasions so encouraged as of a private Tuscan, he so discreetly and moderately behaved himself, that after the death of Ancus, he was created King of the Romans.  
That temperate Caecilia, how wisely she moderated her passion in those extremest gusts of Fortune, may remain a singular instance in this kind. Danger could not beget in her a shivering fear; nor her present suffering one trickling tear. She found nothing worth prising but her honour; which preserved, she could with all indifferency entertain any encounter: To lose that which I never had, quoth she, I cannot: and to grieve for the loss of what I once had, I will not: Seeing, as my Predecessors once enjoyed what I now have, so must my Successors have what I now enjoy. Hence do I gather a moderation of passion in either.  
Cornelia, whose very name merits a title of succeeding honour, showed no arguments of unbeseeming passion in the very height of her affliction; knowing how to value the quality of grief. Though not the least beameling of comfort appeared, she retained such a noble spirit; as not a Roman Lady but admired her; nor any Annual writ in her time, but records the memory of her. Nothing could trouble her but Septimius treason: and this appeared more nobly in her. For nothing can be more odious to any Heroic mind than the ignominious act of a Traitor. And what worse than to see a servant betray his Master? To see one, whom her lord had relieved; with many favours graced; and to immerited honours advanced; deprive him of life to whom both his life and Fortunes stood engaged!  
To this virtuous Lady, whose many misfortunes had taught her sufficiently how to moderate passion; and with a discreet check to discourage the proffer of any light affection, might those Lines be aptly applied, exhorting those young Ladies to follow the steps of so noble a Grandmother.  
For you, young Ladies, you've a pattern too,  
One, whose religious life will teach you how  
To manage yours: and this is your Grandmother:  
It were piacular to name another.  
Nor is there any such necessity to fetch our instances from Tiber: Excellent women have both former and present times afforded within this hedged Garden, whose admirable temper, to their never-dying honour, hath deserved no less praise. Such, who could smile at misery, and with such a composed grace entertain the storms of Fortune: as none that saw them, could do less than highly condemn her of inequality of judgement, or want of sight, (to her a proper attribute) to bring them down to the lowest part of her wheel, who deserved for moderation of passion, with other arguments of discretion, to be ranked with the highest in the Commonwealth.  
Nor, indeed, can this moderation of passion, whereof we now treat, receive more approvement from any person, than such an one, who sometimes has enjoyed the fullness of earthly happiness; and afterwards fallen into the extremities of want: Or such, who though they partake in all freedom and fullness of fortune; seconded by powerful Friends: rewarded with deserving honours: yet find an Eclipse or contraction of light in all these, by some private discontent; which by strength of Assistants is in their power to redress by revenge, but out of their nobleness of spirit will not. This I could illustrate by many notable examples: where we shall find one amiable enough for a Consort; and too accomplished for a Prostitute, by him dis●valued, where she should be most honoured: disgraced, where she would be most approved. Nor can this unhappy man allege any cause why he should not love her, but because he is tied to love her; Which tye and title of wife does so vex him, as she can devise no way to please him: yet is not her diligence any thing remitted; nor her desire to give content fore-slowed. Divided Beds cannot distemper her: she hopes in time to win him to her, and wain him from those, who have aliened his mind from her. Nothing discontents her more than to be discontented: Whatsoever shall happen, she stands prepared.  
O, but will some say, such a woman may be called rather a Picture than a Mirror! An Image made up of Rye-dow. One who is either so simple, as she knows not the quality of a wrong: or so sheepish, as she dare not say her soul is her own. And such are neither fit for Wives nor Mistresses. For as Fools cannot at any time be troubled with mirth, because nothing that good is, can happen unto them: nor perplexed with grief, because nothing that ill is, can seem so unto them; being as incapable of the one, as insensible of the other: No more can those apprehend the weight of an injury, either through weakness of spirit, or stupidity. Whereto I answer; that we receive not here into the list of our Discourse any such Stoical Apathists, who are insensible of passion: For such were strange Stocks to graft on. Yea, the O●conomick well observes, that a Family through want of spirit in the Governess, is no less disordered than by too much spirit disquieted.  
In a Legendary Story is mention made of such a Saintly Sufferer, which for the rarity of the relation I have here inserted.  
There was sometimes One, who weary of the World, desired to wain himself from all secular cares, 
The like mortification appeared in that Virgin Eugenia, during the pontificate of leuty cri●●.  and betake himself to a religious privacy: so as, within short time he was received into the Covent. Now it happened one day, that this religious man walking alone in the Garden, seemed as One much discontented: which the Abbot observing, came unto him, demanding the reason of his heaviness: willing him to impart unto him the occasion of his grief, as became an inferior member of the Society to d●e unto his Superior.  
Nothing, reverend Father, answered he, concerning my own particular: nor doth it repent me to have entered into this Religious Order: For I find more comfort in one hour within these Walls, than ever I could in all those possessions I enjoyed in the World. But I must tell you, Father, that I have one only son, which I left behind me, and very dear was he unto me; now I am much perplexed in mind about him: for I know not how the World may deal with him. Tender are his years, which adds to the measure and number of my cares. Nor am I so confident of their trust, to whom I recommended him, as to free me from that pious jealousy which I harbour in my breast touching him. Advise me then, dear Sir, what course were best to take, that my care may be settled: and his safety provided, on whom with equal hopes and fears the troubled thoughts of a father are many times fixed.  
Is this your cause of heaviness, said the Abbot? To rid you from these cares, and increase your hope in his succeeding years, send him to me, and see what effect will come of it.  
According to the Abbot's direction, he causeth his son, who, indeed, was a daughter (which he dissembled for some reasons) to be sent for. Who, after some time of probation, was admitted to the Society. Now it chanced, that the daughter of an eminent Person, not far distant from that Abbey, was got with child, and for some private respects to herself best known, desirous to conceal the true Father; laid the child upon this supposed Brother (who was indeed a Sister.) This Saintly creature was so far from defending her own innocency, as she took unto it, as if she had been the true father which begot it. The rumour hereof so highly incensed the Abbot; holding it to be a great scandal to his Society, to have any one under his charge, conscious of such impiety; as he straightly commanded that this adulterous person should be expulsed the House: and to receive no relief, but such as common-Beggers were wont to have at the gate.  
This Censure she receives with patience, without least discovery of her innocence: And though divers of the Fraternity interceded the Abbot in her behalf: acquainting him with the piety of her forepast life, with the patient suffering of whatsoever his Reverend authority had enjoined her: yet would not the Abbot relent, nor remit any part of her punishment: nor ever be persuaded by all the means that could be made, to receive her again into the Covent. Thus continued this simple innocent soul, free from that sin, yet exposed to all shame: relinquished by herself, because undefended: nor justifide by her father, because he had vowed that her Sex should not by his means be discovered. Till at last, Death imposed an end to her misery, and published to all the World her innocency.  
The report whereof so highly perplexed the Abbot: as he with the whole Covent continued a long time sorrowing: not without admiration of her Patience: recommending her Memorial to posterity for a recompense.  
This example when you read, I imagine, you will smile at; and say, this wench had a kind heart that could so meekly suffer for another's offence: which argued in her, rather a senseless stupid disposition, than any discreet Moderation of Passion.— And would you have us turn such young Saints, and in the end become Old Devils?  
No; (though this unexemplary precedent might deserve more admiration than political approvement) we propose such whose Conceits are apprehensive enough, to weigh the quality of a wrong; Spirits stout enough to revenge; and power enough to second that revenge: yet are endued with so noble a temper, as they held it their highest honour, to expostulate the cause mildly; rather than with fire and faggot to menace a revenge, where they owe an obedience: and aught to overcome extremities (so they be not above humane sufferings) with patience.  
Such an one as one of these, had that brave Colonel; who professed, that though he encountered with broils abroad, he never found any brawlles at home: though he bickered with Storms by Sea, he enjoyed a Calm still by Land. Not like that fierce Virago, who being married to a Soldier; ever used to welcome her Husband home with a powder; and being one day, in a more temperate mood, asked by him, why she used such liberty with her tongue, as after that manner to entertain him still with such hailshot? O, quoth she, I hold it good discretion, to enure you to what you must suffer: Seeing your cares are so well acquainted with the noise of the Canon abroad, you may well enough endure a little hailshot at home; Words break no bones, husband; would to God, your Enemy would use you so.  
That Syracusan General gave a strong testimony of his Wife's temper, when in a public meeting, he protested: That he had in all his time found it far more easy to discomfit a commanding Foe, or demolish the strongest Fort, than to overcome his Wife's patience.  
Albeit, there are many, whose discreet and well-composed temper can suffer all injuries; embrace poverty with a pleasant smile: receive any disrespect from their Dearest with incredible patience: yet, when their own Fame shall come to be questioned; they hold that too precious a prize, too high a stake to be hazarded. This was that noble Roman Ladies resolution: Let me suffer, quoth she, in the height of Fortune's Contempt; Let that ambitious One, whom I most malign; receive those honours I should enjoy; embrace that person whom I love best. Should I be enforced to beg relief from her hand, where I conceive the constantest hate: Should I encounter with all the extremities that adversity could lay upon me: All these were nothing; so I may preserve that Fame untainted, which I have hitherto preserved. Fortune can but take from us what is hers: it is our actions only, or others injurious obloquy can deprive us of what may be truly and properly styled ours.  
No less absolute was she in the Command of her Passions; who being one day in private discourse with a Gentleman of excellent winning parts; and one whose glib tongue could win ground upon least advantage: was demanded by him, how she could brook to hear her Husband to be such a general Courter of fresh Mistresses: and to boast of their Favours in her presence? O, Sir, quoth she, all this is but to Court me with more formality when he comes to me! I find no fail in his love, why should I then distaste what he likes? If he had more serious employments to bestow himself on, I little doubt but he would as much sleight the Courting of a Light Mistress, as he now affects it for want of better employment. If others bestow their Favours on him, and he reserve his best Favour for me; it were my weakness to suffer others respects to him, to beget a jealousy in me. I neither retain that mean conceit of myself, as to conceive the least thought of his Loving of any one better than me: nor have I any such opinion of his inconstancy; as to imagine him desirous to prefer any one in his esteem before me.  
Thus have you heard their excellent temper in Moderation of Passion, with what indifferency they could bear the braves of Fortune; with what innocency they could bear the weight of injuries. How their Fame was the only Touchstone of their patience: which secured, nothing so extreme, which they have not with resolution encountered, and with constancy subdued.  
Which mildness begets in them a near resemblance with that well-dispose feminine Monarchy of Bees; 
Rex Apum non ●abet aculeum ●um quo potest pungere sicut coeterae Apes. Plin.  for as the Natural Historian observes, that their King has no sting as other Bees have, retaining such an offenceless quality, as he cannot sting any, sufficing himself with a Princely Clemency, to supply the place of Sovereignty: So these hold it power sufficient to have had the power to revenge: and by their inferior Subjects to repel the insolence of a bold intruder; holding it a derogation to their honour, to become a personal revenger.  
Certain it is, that no virtue more ennobles a Rational Soul than this Moderation of Passion: Nor deserve they either to manage any public or private charge; who cannot restrain these insulting motions, which so miserably captivate the better part: as by giving way to appetite, man though he retain the name, he loseth the nature & prime privilege of man. He only, and none but he deserves to be honoured, who is with goodness endowed. For foot-cloth honour, it is but an Eye-object: it may exact of an humble Passenger a low Congee or Salute: 
Solusbonus est ●ono●and●s. Arist. 4. ●t●.  but his Horse, for aught that I know, being so richly covered, deserves as much honour as he that rides on it. And no doubt with a little help of a Cynics Lantern, it were very easy in this Silken age to find with Aristippus, Stones sitting on stones, and barbarous Asses riding on Barbary horses. But we have other Surveys to take in hand: being now to descend from their Moderation of Passion, to their Continency in assaults; even to Those, where they bore most loyal love and affection.   

SECTION IU. Their Continency in assaults.  
OPPORTUNITY is a dangerous attendant for youthful Love. And yet shall we present to your eyes; such noble Commanders of their desires: as neither opportunity of place, nor importunity of person, though affection had entered far into their bosom, could make them dispense with honour.  
Long had that Roman Sophronia been importuned by a deserving Suitor; one, whose youth might deserve Love: and whose beauteous personage might have seized of store of Mistresses without much sollicitancy: One in whose eyes love sparkled: seeming to merit admittance without parlance. Yet finds he his Sophronia of another temper, than to prefer her pleasure before her honour: She can address him this answer: What straying eyes have you observed in us? What loose passage has there fallen from us, or wherein have you seen any argument of Lightness by us? That you should be so weakly opinioned of us? Do you know our Family, and c●n you conceit us forgetful of our Fame? Trust me, Sir, either light thoughts have so misguided you, as you have quite forgot who we are: or some base Trader, I might say, Betrayer of women's honour has deluded you, by giving you encouragement to such an indiscreet attempt. Return home then, Sir, I could wish you: and recollect those wits you have scattered: Which done, it will behoove you to beg from me a pardon, whom you have sought with so unjust an affection.  
It could not choose but redound highly to Scipio's commendations, that being a young man of 24 years of age, in the taking of a City in Spain, he should so nobly vanquish his own affections, by repressing his flames of lust, when a beautiful Maid was brought him, as a trophy of his Victory: restoring her to a young man called Allantius, to whom she was espoused, with a great reward, as an additament to her Dower. Yet for all this, it may be imagined with an easy gloss, that her Honour suffered an Assault: and that the Maid's repulse begot in that victorious Commander a singular esteem of her virtues.  
It is true, that Darius' wife and his three daughters, being spared by Alexander, improved more his fame, than all those glorious attempts which ever he had achieved. Yet our Critics will not stick to say, 
Quint. curt. lib. 3.  but they were attempted: yet so constant were they in preserving their honour, as neither Majesty could command, nor beauty (as what Prince more amiable?) allure; nor their own present estate admit any unjust freedom to so commanding a Suitor.  
But to prove unto you, that nothing is more incomparably precious than a Continent Soul; and that Conjugal Love held such a firm tye even amongst Ethnics, as they preferred that gage before all tenders of sensual Love or fading honour; I will relate here unto you one memorable Story, to improve that Sex's glory, and beget a pious emulation in posterity.  
Cannia, Wife to Synattus, shall be the surviving Subject of this Story; whom one Synoris, a man of greater authory than he, loved; and making no small means to obtain her love, yet all in vain, supposed the readiest way for the effecting his desires to be the murdering of her husband: which he performed. This Act of horror was no sooner executed, and by the robe of his authority shrouded (as what guilt so heinous, but may receive her subterfuge from greatness) than he renewed his suit, to which she seemingly assented: but being solemnly come into the Temple of Diana for celebrating those Nuptial rites, she had a sweet potion ready, which she drunk to Synoris: wherewith both were poisoned.  
In which Precedent, we shall find rare constancy in an Ethnic Lady. Honour, though it be a bait that is apt to take the most constant minds, could work no such effect in her. The vow she had made to her first Choice, estranged her affection from all new Favourites. She could find no breast to entertain him; nor a Love to receive him; nor an heart to harbour him; nor an arm to embrace him; who had embrued his hands in the blood of her Dearest. No Nuptial rites can allure her; no hope of honour delude her; she holds fast to her first Choice without Change. Yet since this Loving Murderer must needs enjoy her, she will incline to his motion, and with a Lovesick potion enshrine their liveless bodies, without further enjoyment together. No other way could she find to prevent it: and rather than she will assent to entertain him for her constant Lover, who was her husband's cruel murderer, the Scene must be made truly tragical, in both their disasters.  
Admirable was the resolution of that noble Captive; who, seeing her Husband not only discomfitted, but deprived of life; and herself presented to the General, as a booty worth receiving; being for beauty so rare, as the age afforded not a fairer nor more goodly personage: so bravely slighted her restraint, as she expressed herself more like a Commander than a Captive: If the General at any time sued to her for love; she would with a seeming graceful scorn reject him telling him; That neither her Fame nor Family would suffer her to play the Courtesan: and if he meant to make her his Wife; she had not yet wiped away her funeral tears; and therefore could not so soon entertain any Nuptial treaties. She wished him to retain a better opinion of her Sex, than to imagine women's honour to be as easily won as Forts or Sconces. Nor could her present condition so discourage her, as to admit a thought for a Kingdom, to impeach her honour. Demand nothing of me, would she ofttimes say, now when I am your Slave, but what you might as well require if I were free. Trust me, Liberty cannot so much please me; as loss of honour would afflict me. The one is in your hand to give; and the other in mine to preserve. Fetters are easy burdens to an enfranchised mind. Though my outward state be poor, I desire to keep my inward state pure. Lower I cannot be in fortunes, nor higher in esteem with the Immortal Gods, whom I prise above all fortunes; so I enjoy myself; by freeing my unstained honour from the injurious hand of an unjust incroac●er. Which resolution so well acquitted her; as after those due Solemnities observed for her deceased Husband: she was received for a Wife by the General.  
No less constant in her virtuous affection was that noble Maid; who, having set her love upon a young Gentleman, whose parts were many, though his fortunes few: Her Father taking notice of her extraordinary respect towards him: and having divers times admonished her to forbear his company; but all in vain: at last he resolved of a course, by bringing in an other Suitor, in fortunes richer, though his breeding m●aner; to weine his daughter's affection from him. Many weeks were not past, till the Match was concluded; the Marriage-day appointed, and all things prepared to solemnize this enforced bargain. But how far the young Maid's mind was aliened from her Father's choice, might well appear by the answer she returned her Suitor, at such time as he made her acquainted how all things were concluded: Is it possible, quoth she, that all things should be finished, and the Party whom it most concerns, never acquainted, much less consented? Yes, Mistress, quoth he, I can assure you, your Father and rest of your Friends knew of it long since; and your Father thought so well of it, as he consented to it. Has he so, answered she? Then it seems you have his goodwill? Yes, forsooth, quoth this Country Hoyden: Why then, said she, pray you go marry my Father, whose goodwill you have got: for you should wrong his daughter, to marry her whose goodwill you have not.  
But all this could not decline her hard-hearted Father from his rich unworthy choice. Married she must be, and to her lasting discontent. Which when it could not be prevented; you shall hear what accident hence ensued.  
The time being now come, when this enforced Match was to be solemnised, and she to be given in Marriage: even then when her unhappy Father was to take her by the hand, and give her to her contemptible choice: instead of her hand, he received from her this answer: Sir, expect no hand from me, for I cannot give it: having already sent it to him, who has most interest in it. Enforce me then no further, Dear Father; What joy can this heavy Bridal afford that Gentleman; when he makes choice of such a Consort, that has neither hand nor heart to give him? And such an one shall he enjoy in me. My hand, behold, I have sent him; and my heart I have engaged him. Surcease then to afflict an unhappy Maid with a supply of more discomforts.  
This sorrowful Spectacle (having shown her right arm without an hand) broke up that Match. For by the persuasion of Friends, her Father was moved to give her in marriage to her first Choice, with whom she lived in that content; as she thought her hand well bestowed, to rid her of one whom she so much hated: and confirm her his, to whom both heart and hand stood religiously engaged.  
Those Dainty Dalmatian virgins showed no less Continency in resisting the assaults of their commanding Enemies: who, when they saw their People discomfitted, their Country depopulated, their principal ●ities demolished, and themselves Captives; were nothing at all amated. Insomuch as, being lead away prisoners, one amongst the rest stepped out and spoke in behalf of herself and the rest in this manner: Whither do you drag us? What way do you hale us? Should you deprive us, of what is most esteemed by us; it were but a poor purchase; seeing, our Wills have vowed even unto death to make resistance. Take us then to your Wives, and we will serve you; whereas, if you make Strumpets of us, we will hate you: and when you are most confident, take occasion to be revenged of you. Which Speech made their Foes their Friends: causing their professed Enemies to become their Sponsall Consorts; by turning their inveterate fury, unto an affectionate Fancy: which procured their Country's safety, and published to the World their Continency.  
Full of masculine valour, and careful of preserving their honour, did those Scythian women bear themselves: when seeing their miserable Country made desolate by an unfortunate overthrow: they thought good to keep touch with their discomfitted and dis-slaughtered Husbands. For having promised them, that if they were vanquished by their Enemies, they would perform the duty of constant Wives, and keep their honours untainted in despite of all Assailants. These constant Dames no sooner heard of their husband's sorrowful discomfiture, than resolved according to their promise, to preserve their honour: with one voice and vote being gathered together, they conclude to have themselves shut up in several places provided for that purpose, and there burned, and in their own ashes buried together.  
There may be found likewise some of this Sex, who having yielded up the Forts of their Honours upon fair terms, and as they conceived, for their own advantage; yet declined afterwards from that familiarity which they formerly embraced: by forbearing their Company, whom they seemingly affected: And this strangeness proceedeth from some reasons either out of simplicity or policy best known to themselves. This makes me remember that merry tale (to interveine mirth with more serious discourse) which I have heard sometimes told to this effect.  
In the Town of Brada (a place which has ministered sufficient matter of discourse in these later times) there were Soldiers bill●ted for defence thereof against the Enemy. These according to the freedom of their profession, continued there for a season in all jollity and pleasure: every one having his dainty Doxy or Damasella to consort with. Thus they lived; loved, and neighbourly conversed, till the enemy approached: whose encamping spoiled their Courting. For being come before the Town, with a firm resolution, as they understood, to win, or perish: Those within the Town, fearing, as it afterwards proved, that it would be a long continued siege; were advised to remove from them all such as could not be useful for service, as Old men and Women; who if they stayed with them, would partake of their provision, but afford them no assistance in a time of such imminent danger. These Old men and Women, being thus disposed and privately conveyed to several Ports adjoining: This sharp Siege goes on: which fell out so commodious to the Enemy, so disadvantageous to the Town; as being blocked up from taking in any provision, they were driven into a great strait. Notwithstanding, with much prowess and constancy of spirit. they repelled the force and fury of their Be●iedgers repairing by night what was ruined by day: and suffering no opportunity to pass wherein they might either offend the enemy, or defend themselves from his hostility. But seeing no possible hope of relief; and an extreme Famine drawing on; having been enforced, for want of better provision, to eat Horses, Dogs, and Cats; which begot divers pestilent and contagious diseases within the Town: and having now their Magazines so emptied, as their very last Corn was in the Oven. Yea, taking notice how they were jeered by the Enemy; when at any time they came near the battlements: using to put their canes in arch holes, and to counterfeit the noise of Dogs and Cats, to delude them: by making them wait for their coming out, that they might take them and feed on them. Being, I say, thus enclosed with all extremes, they resolved upon a parlance to yield up the Town; upon such fair and honourable terms, as the least dishonour that could be, redounded to them: only, indeed, the Town was won from them, which was not lost for want of courage, but provision.  
And being now to leave the Town with Ancients and Colours displayed; and bullets in their mouth: One of these brave metald sparks, remembering himself how that sometimes before. Siege was laid to the Town: he was acquainted with a Bona-Roba; and how she was disposed of in such a Port: resolves with himself to repair thither, and renew his former familiarity with her: but coming to the place of her abode, he found the wind turned; being received by her with an unexpected Coyness; which he much wondering at, demanded the reason of her niceness? Putting her withal in mind of their former acquaintance, which might be an inducement to move her to tender him the like favour: No point, Souldado, quoth she; for me does much fear, you will get me with Colt, you have eaten so much Horseflesh. What a strange countenance the Soldier made upon this Wantoness answer, I leave to your conceit who reads this: no doubt, but he went away with a Flea in his ear, to purchase an other Mistress, and one more constant, if he might aspire to that happiness.  
But to omit these, should we peruse the Stories or Records of all times, we should find admirable instances in this weaker Sex for resisting the bold attempts of loose Suitors: being so constant in the defence of their honour, as neither price could betray; nor prayer persuade; nor power enforce their affections, to give way to the least breach of their continency: crowning ever their noble aims with a cheerful victory.  
But I am to descend now to the next Subject: wherein it shall appear that they have ever made Honour their highest Object: for in this may you see portrayed to life, not only their zeal to modesty, but their tender care to prevent all occasion of jealousy. No wand'ring eyes to hunt for a Suitor; no straying feet, like Dinah's, to betray their honour. A modest countenance shall you find without dissembling; a comely Habit, without fantastic affecting; and a firm loyal Love without apish toying: Mine shall be the Task; be yours the patience. We shall tender nothing to your modest ears that may possibly minister distaste; much, if opinion transport me not, that may afford you benefit: and amply satisfy your longing appetite with a variously stored and well-furnished banquet.   

SECTION V. Their Modesty in Countenance, Habit, and expression of their affection.  

COUNTENANCE.  
THE Habit or quality of the mind is best discerned by the carriage or composure of the body. 
a Aug. de Christ. Fide.  Do not say, saith that devout Father, that you have modest minds, so long as you have immodest eyes.  

b Hieron. ad Furiam de vid. Serm. Tom. 1.  How can she weep for her sins (saith S. Hierom) when her tears will make furrows in her face? with what confidence dare she lift up her Countenance to Heaven, which her Maker acknowledges not? etc. Light Habits suit not well with grave hearts: nor wand'ring eyes with settled minds.  

c Cyprian de discip. & hab. Virg.  These plaisterings and pargetting of faces to attract adulterous eyes, and to beget Suitors, sort better with prostitutes and impudent strumpets, who make sale of their honour, than modest women, who prefer their fame before the sad fruition of all earthly pleasure.  
O, what a madness is it to change the very form and mould of Nature, and to esteem more of a Picture than a Reasonable Creature! S. Hierom writing to Marcelia saith, 
d Hieron de exitu Leae.  that those women are matter of scandal to Christian eyes, who paint their faces with Ceruse and such like painting stuff: labouring to correct their Ma●●●r, and with an impudent hand to rectify the errors of their first feature. 
e Ambros. He●am. lib. 6. cap. 8  Such a picture, says S. Ambrose, is a vicious imposture.  

f Ibid.  Thou defacest the image of God, when thou deprivest thy Countenance of her native candour, and strivest to beautify it with an artificial colour.  
Nor can it move less than a pious compassion in the heart of any well-affected Christian, to see such ado made in patching and daubing this outward cottage, which threatens ruin daily: and such neglect shown to the Inner house, which communicates to the body, both life and beauty.  
Petrarches advice was otherwise: 
g Petrarch. de remed. utriusque fort.  Be not afraid (saith he) though the outhouse of thy body be shaken, so the soul, the guest of the body, fare well.  

h Tertull. de hab. Mul. c. 7.  I would, I poor wretch (saith Tertullian) might see in that day of Christian exaltation, whether with ceruse, and purpurisse, and saffron, and such compass of Tires about your heads you shall rise again? Whether such an Ornament or Habilement shall plead for you at the day of judgement?  
Seeing then, as Festus Pompeius saith, that common and base whores called Schaenicolae used daubing of themselves: 
i Pet. Mart. in 2 R●g. 9.30.  And that no good face will seek these helps. 
k Scult.  And that deservingly she incurs a censure, who seeks to improve Nature by any shop-beauty or borrowed colour. 
l Hieron.  And that such affected rubbish or refuse as face-varnish, or any such exquisite neatness can no way suit with Christian comeliness. 
m 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. Nazian. con. Mal. immodice comp●as.  And that there is one flower to be loved of Women, a good red, which is shamefastness. 
n Clem. Constit. Apost l. 1. c. 9  And that we are expressly forbidden to paint that face which God hath made.  
Let beauty receive her improvement from no other hand than Nature; what mor●, falls of from modesty, and argues a light disposition. But in my opinion, nothing discovers lightness so much; a● to make strange eyes familiar with the knowledge of your Breast. No serious judgement can conceit less than lightly of such exposed beauty; which that Epigrammatist glanced at happily, when seeing one of these amorous Girls, who had no meaning to lead Apes in hell, but would rather impawne her honour than enter any Vestal Order, attired in a light wanton Habit, and breast displayed, and this in Lent time; when graver attire and a more confined bosom might have better becomed her; he wrote these Lines: 

Nunc emere haud fas est (est Quadragesima) carnes;  

D●m●ar. ●p●g Cent. 1.  Quin mulier, mammas contegis ergo tuas?   

With breasts laid out, why should I Shambles tempt;  
" It 's held unlawful to buy flesh in Lent.   That passage was worthy observance, being sometimes betwixt a Bedlamer and one of these fantastic Girls. It chanced that a poor distempered Bedlamer meeting with one of these huffing Wenchss in the open street, daintily accoutred, and stoursy ushered: * Lucky Bess, quoth he, (seeing her breasts all bare as far as modesty would well permit, and her arms naked up to her elbow) art not a Cold?— Well, god keep thee Bess and poor Tom in our wits.— Else must we return to the place from whence we came, and receive whipping-cheere for our labour. Her Gentleman-usher bearing this affront of this Madman upon his Madam with impatience, gave him the bastinado; but his indiscreet valour brought him to more dishonour: for the Bedlamer feeling it smart, so belaboured him with his Horn; as if he had been Hornemad: and I verily think, had beat him blind, had not the Beedle of the Ward happily come in to his rescue.  
Dainty Nipples (said that excellent Moralist to a wanton Gallant) why do ye so labour to tempt and take deluded eyes? must not poor wormelins one day tug you? Must those enazured Orbs for ever retain their beauty? Must Nature in such ample measure show her bounty, and you recompense her love with lying snayres to purchase fancy?  
These Instances I the rather insist on, because there is nothing that impeacheth civil fame more than these outward fantastic fooleries, Where the eye gives way to opinion: and a conceit is conveyed to the Heart, by the outward sense: For, as by the Countenance, piety is impaired; so by the Eyes is chastity impeached. Where this is and hath been ever held for an undoubted Maxim: Immodest eyes are Messengers of an unguarded heart. The principal means then to preserve reputation, is to avoid all occasion of suspicion. And forasmuch as we may suffer in our fame through trifles, aswell as motives of higher importance; we are to be cautious in the least; lest we be censured in these, though we fend not in the greatest.  
☞ Lacides Prince of Argos, one, whose noble parts deserved that Title, had he never been advanced thereto by the suffrage of his people; was accounted Lascivious only for his sleek looks, and mincing gate.  
So Pompeie, because out of an affected way, as was conceived, he used to scratch his head with one finger; albeit very continent and modest.  
So Augustus discovered the dispositions of his Daughters, by the places where they frequented; the company with which they conversed. The Countenance which they showed; the manner of their carriage when at any time suited. Lightness he found in the one; and staidness in the other: while the one consorts with a Ruffian, the other with a Senator.  
Now to follow our former method, and present to your eyes the Modesty of sundry women, whose excellent parts as they merited high approvement: so their modest behaviour enlarged those additions of their honour. Where you shall find a whole Roman Family so derivative in their virtues one to another, as every action deserved some peculiar attribute of honour,  
One of these you shall find giving these directions to her Daughters: Wenches, be careful of your fame: attire your Countenances with Modesty; let not your outward appearance beget in a loose Lover, lest hope of prevailing. Looks are legible lines: men may gather by your Countenance, whether or no goodness have in you any residence. Nor can you so dissemble light thoughts, but they will at one time or other break forth in glowing blushes, or immodest smiles. I have been a Consul's Wife so long; as by his absence I might have taken opportunity to enjoy an inhibited pleasure by communicating my love to a Stranger; but never was pleasure comparably precious to mine honour. Trace you the same path; so shall the Elysian fields receive you, when these shady Emblems of vading fancy shall leave you.  
Another, though young, you shall find of so composed a Countenance, and constant modesty▪ as when her Friends had concluded a marriage betwixt her and a noble Gentleman; whom she preferred in her affection before all others: made no other semblance of joy, nor no other expression of liking than this: That she was bound to her Friends for their choice, yet so happy was she in her present condition, as she could hardly entertain one thought of change. Yea, at such time as her Nuptials were to be solemnised, and her vowed affection sealed: and nothing wanted but the rite itself to join their hands together, as their hearts long before had confirmed that tender; when her unhappy Bridegroom was by an Imperial command called away to foreign servive, as if that sad occasion had purposely pitched itself to decline their solace, and perplex their loves with a tedious expectance; she put on so cheerful a Countenance, as none could gather by her outward semblance that she conceived any discontent by his absence. Yet so constantly affectionate was she to her divided choice, as no distance of place could alien her love, remaining of a votaress (yet ever retaining an unblemished Countenance) till his return.  
More easily to be admired than imitated was the Modesty of that incomparable Aemilia; who, being one day invited to a sumptuous Feast; where, to delight the itching ears and wand'ring eyes of light Guests, were presented sundry wanton passages: Songs, whose very airs resounded nothing but lightness; Obscene Motions and Gestures, which relished nothing more than Wantonness: was asked by a merry Gossip, who sat next to her, how it fared that she laughed not at those revels aswell as the rest? A modest Dame (replied she) should not so much as give an ear, much less afford a smile to an immodest Scene.   

HABIT.  
NEXT to this Modesty which many of our Feminine Mirrors showed in their Countenance; we are to present unto you the Decency they observed in their Habit. Which, as it was first ordained to keep the body warm two ways: by keeping in the natural heat of the body: and by keeping out the accidental cold of the air; becomes so inverted by abuse, as it suits itself to neither of those Necessities for which it was first ordained. But the phrency of pride suffers no cold. Bedlam-like it can go in slashes, to comply with times humour, and scarcely feel the distemper of any unseasonable Wether. A Mistress eye is an Antidote against a fever. Here you shall have one to bear more than Milo's Bull, upon their shoulders. Such a weight of Jewels, stones, borders and carknets, as it seems wonderful to me (to use the words of a Learned Father) that they are not pressed to death with the burden they bear. Others like so many pye-coloured Butterflies, 
Cl●m. Alex. 2 Paedag.  falling from Silkworms, and changing their nature with their colour, disguise themselves in the lightest stuffs of vanity; which kind of Habit may be, indeed, truly styled the minds Anatomy. With these nothing can be received into grace, that appears grave: nor ought complete, that is not fantastical.  
far otherwise affected was that Noble Lady; who, when a Peer of this Kingdom came to visit her, and seeing all those inner rooms of her house hung with Black, demanded of her the reason of her sorrowing? Why, my Lord, quoth she, has your Honour slept all this while, and never heard how I was a desolate Widow? Yes, said he; but it is long since your Husband died, so as, by the custom of our Nation, you might before this time have left off that Habit. O, quoth she, but it seems but as yesterday to me, since he died; your Honour then must give me leave to wear one Livery both in Heart and Habit. Why, replied this Lord, the very Pagans had times limited for their sorrowing and Funeral solemnising. But we are Christians, said she; and though I weep not as those without hope, yet must I needs with a pious sorrow bemoan the loss of so Honourable an Help. But admit one in my case were not to be an incessant mourner: You will confess, I am sure, she should be a constant remembrancer. And though no professed votaress, yet would it well beseem her to make her Chamber her Cloister. Now, my Lord, for mine Habit, though it please not the eye of a Courtier, yet will it suit well with the humour of such Suitors as I mean to entertain. A richer covering I shall not need, and this I hope my means will maintain.  
She seemed constant to her Country wear; who coming over into this Island with other Outlandish women; was wished, to accommodate herself according to the Habit of our Nation: O, pardon me, Madam, quoth she, I am neither so forgetful of my own Country, as to put of her livery: nor so meanly opinioned of it, as to change it with any foreign bravery. Nor, if I should shape myself to the Habit of your Nation, could I any long time be known by it, being so changeable in her fashion.  
A Divine answer returned that excellent Lady to an impertinent Objection, when being one day asked, why she attired not herself to the fashion of the time? O, Sir, quoth she, because the Time observes no fashion. But if you wonder at my plainness, and why I bestow no more cost on my apparel; I must tell you, I can see no reason in the World that we should pride us in that, which, had we not sinned, we had never needed.   

EXPRESSION OF THEIR AFFECTION.  
NEXT this, let us instance what rare Modesty hath been shown by Women, in the Expression of their Affection. How loath to be seen to love; and how faithful to those they did love: How shamefast in their professing; and how steadfast in their expression.  
I prefer love before life, said that noble Aurelia to one of her Maiden-sisters; yet had I rather lose my life, than discover my love. The like said that sweet Sulpitia; I could find in mine heart to die for my Love, so my Love knew not I died for his love. The like said that virtuous Valeria: I could wish to die, so my Clarentius knew not for whom I wished to die. That brave Burgundian Lady expressed the like Modesty; I will pass by him, said she, and never eye him: my heart shall only speak to him; for my tongue, it shall rather lose itself than unloosen itself to him.  
A rare Expression of Affection showed that young Maid; who, seeing her Lover deprived of all means to enjoy her by the averseness of his Father: and understanding, how he had resolved through discontent to take his Fortune beyond the Seas, with a religious vow, never to solicit any Woman's love, for the space of five years: She, though till that time, she had ever borne him respect with such discreet secrecy and reservedness, as no eye could ever discover her affection; intended under a disguised habit, to accompany him in his journey. Cutting therefore her hair, and taking upon her a Pages habit; she came aboard in the same Ship wherein he was received; and so continued during all that Sea, by the help of that disguise and discolouring of her hair, to her Lover, altogether unknown. And being now arrived at the Port at which they aimed, this disguised Page beseeched him, that he would be pleased to accept of his service: pretending, that since his arrival, he had heard of the death of his dearest Friends, and such as his livelihood relied on; so as, he had no means to support him, nor in his present distress to supply him, unless some charitably disposed Gentleman like himself, would be pleased to take compassion of him, and entertain him. This exiled Lover commiserating his Case, took her into his Service; little imagining that his Page was his Mistress. But no doubt, bore his late-entertained Servant more respect for the resemblance he conceived betwixt his Page and Mistress.  
Thus lived they together for a long time: during which space, she never discovered herself: holding it to be to no purpose, seeing he had taken a solemn vow (as was formerly said) that he would solicit no Woman's love for such a time: so as, rather than he should violate his vow, (which by all likelihood he would have done, had he known who was his Page) she choosed to remain with him unknown, expressing all arguments of diligence and careful observance that any Master could possibly expect from his Servant.  
Hope, which lighteneth every burden; and makes the most painful service a delightful solace, sweetened the hours of her expectance: ever-thinking, how one day those five years would be expired, when she might more freely discover her love, and he enjoy what he so much desired. But Fate, who observes no order betwixt youth and age; nor reserves one compassionate tear for divided Loves, prevented their hopes, and abridged their joys by her premature death. For being taken with a Quartan-fever, she languished even unto death: Yet before her end, she desired one thing of her Master in recompense of all her faithful service; which was, that he would be pleased to close up the eyes of his Page, and receive from him one dying kiss: and lastly, to wear for his sake one poor Ring, as a lasting memorial of his loyal love. All which his sorrowful Master truly performed: but perceiving by the Posy of the Ring that his deceased Page was his Mistress: and that he had bestowed that Ring on her, at such time as he departed from her; it is not to be conceived, what continued sorrow he expressed for her.  
A Story of no less constant nor passionate affection may be here related of that deeply enamoured Girl; who, though she preferred her Honour before the embraces of any Lover: and made but small semblance of any fondness or too suspicious kindness to him, who had the sole interest in her love. Yea, so far was her affection distanced from the least suspicion: as her very nearest Friends could scarcely discover any such matter betwixt them: yet at such time as her unfortunate Lover, being found a notorious Deliquent in a Civil State, was to suffer; when, all the private means by way of Friends that she could make, prevailed nothing for his delivery: and she now made a sad spectator of his Tragedy. After such time as the Headsman had done his office, she leapt up upon the Scaffold: and in a distracted manner, called all such people as were there present, to witness: That he who had suffered could no way possibly be a Delinquent, and she innocent: For this heart of mine (said she) was his; how could he then do any thing whereof I was not guilty?  
Nor could this poor distempered Maid, by all the advice, council, or persuasion that could be used to her, be drawn from the Scaffold; ever and anon beckoning to the the Executioner to perform his office: for otherwise he was an Enemy to the State, and the Emperor's professed foe. Nor could she be without much force haled from the Scaffold, till his corpse was removed.  
The Historian gives a noble attestation of that majestic Marcelia: That none would ever have thought that she had loved her Husband, till she enjoyed him; but none more discreetly dear in the Expression of her Affection, after she had married him.  
But as Virtue receives her proper station in the Mean; so all Extremes decline from that Mark. I have heard of Some, who were so overnice or gingerly precise in Expressing their Affections; as they would not admit so much favour as a fair or equal Parlance, unless he observed his Distance, to their affectionate Servant.  
These will not grant admittance to their Suitors, to prefer their requests in their Chambers. No; they must be distanced by some Partition or Window; or else woo by Prospective Glasses: or utter their thoughts (with the Silent Lady) through Canes or Trunks; as if Affection were an Infection. But this niceness tastes more of Folly than Modesty. Those only deserve approvement, who can so season their Affections with discretion; as neither too much coyness tax them of coldness, nor too much easiness brand them of forwardness in the ordering of their Affection.  
This closeth fitly with those Posies of two cursory wits writ in a window by way of answer one to another: 
She, she, for me, and none but she  
That's neither forward nor too free.  Which was answered in this manner, in a parallel way to the former.  
That wench, I vow, shall be my joy,  
That's neither forward nor too coy.  
But thus much may suffice for instances of this kind: we are now to descend from the Expression of their constant but modest Love, to such as were Corrivals in their Affections; which have in all ages brought forth Tragic Conclusions.    

SECTION VI The violence of some Women used upon such as were Corrivals in their choice: With Examples.  

It is an useful observation: Satan's infections shoot many times through some great Star the influence of damnation into lesser bodies: as may be discovered by these Tragical Instances.  THERE is no Maxim more holding than this: 
Sceptres and Suitors hate Competitors.   
Agreeing well with that of the Greek Poet: 
Imperial power and Nuptial bed  
Brooke hardly to be rivalled.   

Pind.  Italy hath for many ages been a Tragic Theatre of such presentments. Where you shall find here a Lady so violently strong in her affection, as her Servant must have Spies near him, if he Court but an other Mistress: civil curtsies can hardly pass without some racked Construction. This fury, that passionate Dame expressed; when, having entertained a Gentleman of excellent parts and worthy descent, to be her Servant: and having enjoyed the freedom of their Loves, with much familiarity for long time together: at last, by some report which she had heard, or some other bad office suggested to her, she conceived a deep jealousy of her Servant, that he begun to alien his love from her, by setting it on such an amorous Courtesan. Time strengthened his conceit; For where suspicions of this kind are not at first resisted, they become daily strengthened, and break out into such fearful issues, as they are very hardly without blood to be quenched. This jealous Dame giving free scope to her own thoughts; contracted with a curious Limner to draw the feature of that Courtesan, as much to life as he could possibly do. Which done, she caused this Picture amongst other Pieces of incomparable art to he hung up in her Lodging Chamber. The next time that her Favourite came, having free access unto her, entered into her Chamber: where she had withdrawn herself (purposely as may be imagined) into a private Closet adjoining to that room. Meantime, her unhappy Servant taking a full view of all these Pieces, amongst which having found out the Picture of his Courtesan, he bestowed his eye more upon it, than all the rest: which she observing through a Cranny, and being not able any longer to contain herself, came hastily out of her Closet where she had retired▪ and having saluted her Servant with a seeming-gracefull Countenance as if all had been well, she began to ask him in good earnest what Piece he most affected, or (as he conceived) deserved most love? Madame, answered he, they are all excellent Pieces, and such as have received all perfection from Art: but to settle much affection upon a Picture, where such a Lady as yourself is in presence, were to prefer Art before Nature. Come, come (quoth she) you can dissemble daintily:— But tell me truly, whether this Piece (pointing at his Courtesan) has not nearest Seizure in your heart! And when he answered nothing: But I will procure a divorce betwixt you with this, (quoth she;) and with that, (having a poniard in her sleeve) stabbed him. Which fact of hers, as it brought to him a premature death; so it hastened upon her a judicial doom.  
A revenge of like nature, though performed in a fairer manner, was sometimes presented by that jealous Florentine: who suspecting the Constancy of her Friend: and vowing revenge if it proved so: at last she perceived, that the grounds of her jealousy were not without just Cause. One day therefore she invites her Corrival to her House: where pretending, after a free and friendly entertainment, that she had such a curious Antique Piece to show her, as the world could not parallel: she brought her to a private retired room remote from the noise of ear, or recourse of any. Where being entered; Madonna, quoth she, showing the Picture of her Servant; do you know that piece? Yes, Madam, replied she; And what would you do for his sake? For I know well you love him. She, though she began to excuse herself, could not satisfy this jealous Lady: who transported with fury, to have any other to share in the Object of her fancy; interrupted her in these words: No more; it is in vain. Your dalliance be it never so private, cannot shroud itself from the eyes nor ears of Florence. But as you partake in the fruition of his love, we will see what you dare to attempt for his love. If you deserve him, you will fight for him. Your spirit cannot be weak, if your fancy be strong. Though I might many times before this have prevented your usurped love by depriving you of life: and that in so private a manner, as no mortal eye were it never so piercing could discover: neither were my thoughts so base, nor breeding mean, nor family from whence I came, obscure; as to stoop to such Cowardice. I must tell you freely, you could not have bestowed your love on any, whom I did more fancy, nor any one, if my conceit delude me not, of love more worthy. But, Madonna, you cannot be ignorant of that Proverb: 

" Love and Command have ever had a care,  
" That none within their Territories share.   Provide yourself then, fair Creature, for the Encounter. Here are a case of Rapiers; and the Combat shall determine our Titles. Enjoy him both we cannot without distaste; nor receive him without distrust. Now, this will cure all distempers, and make him all yours, all mine, or neither's.  
And so it proved; for this fatal femini●e Duel, rest them both of their lives: Albeit, the one lived some few hours after, relating the sad occasion of their quarrel: and with what cheerfulness of spirit the Combat was not only entertained but performed on both parts.  
No less desperate, but fuller of dishonour was the design of that jealous amorist: who hearing sundry reports of her Servants inconstancy, would not at first be persuaded of any such matter, giving him all free entertainment, after her wont manner. Till at last, giving more easy way to credulity; she began to examine the circumstances probably inducing to belief: and she found (as she conceived) sufficient grounds to confirm her suspicion; and consequently a withdrawing of his affection. But desiring much to be more fully satisfied touching his familiarity with that Burgonesse, whereof such frequent report was every where dispersed; she resolved to counterfeit a Letter as writ from her servant unto her: and to the end all things might be with less suspicion carried, she used the help of her Secretary, who could so nearly counterfeit his hand, as comparing them together, none could scarcely distinguish them. The purport of her Letter was thus:  
Mistress, your Servant hath ever addressed his loyall'st endeavours to serve you. That Task you could never enjoin him, which was not with all cheerfulness entertained by him. His Friends and Fortunes he has neglected to observe your Commands. Madame, D'Alveare (meaning herself) suspects my intimacy with you. This cools her affection, and contracts my hopes of aspiring higher, for obtaining any place in Court. Let it not grieve you then, Dear Lady, if to salve my repute, which is highly questioned: and re-assure me of my Friends, who seem much estranged: I retire for a season to Vienna, where a Merchant hath tendered me all fair acceptance. Yet, before my departure, I shall desire in some private place free from suspicion to meet you this Evening. Where we may both enjoy ourselves with more liberty, and secure our loves from the eyes of jealousy. Nor only this; but to be advised by you, what course may suit best with my present Fortunes, and recovery of both our credits; which I must tell you freely, are brought upon stage in such a disgraceful manner, as no subject of discourse within the City stands more engaged to Rumour. Be pleased then, in lieu of those many devotions, which I have paid you; those constant vows of affection mutually received from you; those unwilling farewel taken of us both; those faithful remons●●ances returned by us both: to signify unto your Servant by this Bearer, my trusty Agent, where we shall meet by the assisting secrecy of this Evening: when and where you shall find a constant resolution winged with desire addressed to your attendance.  
This Letter she made up and sealed it with her Servants Signet, which she had got out of his pocket: and with all secrecy, lest her plot should be surprised, and come to discovery, she delivers it to a faithful vassal of hers, to be conveyed according to direction. Upon receipt of which Letter, it is not easy to imagine how variously her thoughts were divided betwixt Hope and Fear. Fear to forgo one whom she so unfeignedly loved: Hope, to persuade him by the reasons she might use, to stay. Howsoever, she resolved to return him an answer, which she addressed after this manner.  
Servant, in the enjoyment of which title I have ever joyed; upon the unripping of your Letter, and perusal of the Character, I cannot express unto you how infinitely I was perplexed. The paper tells me you must leave me: And my thoughts have ever-since answered those unwelcome lines with sighs, and told them you cannot. No; you cannot; if love or loyalty may confine you. The precious gage of my dearest honour detain you. Those free embraces of our securest privacy countermand you. O! but you tell me, many eyes are on us. Rumour has spread itself freely touching our familiarity. Nay; what is more! your own Fortunes become weakened; your friends estranged; All off the hooks, by reason of our familiar recourse. Nay; what most afflicts you; Your complete Madam D'Alveare grows cool in her love to you. And these are the Motives that must divide you from me. Fair pretences! And yet knew you the estimate of love, you would as lightly value these, as I have valued mine honour to close with your content. Neither are you so wanting either in Friends, or Fortune; should these who bear the countenance of Friends relinquish you: as you may not receive a supply from Friends as eminent, far more constant, and to the full as cautious of their honour, as your dainty Madam D Alveare. Let not these then decline you from continuing affection where you profess: and from contemning their proffers, who merit less. I have left noble Friends and Favourites, to remain wholly at your devotion. Offers of preferment, if they could have wrought on me, I had plenty: yet were all these weak inducements to the eye of Fancy. But I will not upbraid you with the neglect of my hopes: nor the numerous Favours of those graceful Suitors, who tendered me more if I would have inclined, than my own wishes could have expected. Let it suffice you, that none can more constantly love you, than she who has abandoned all her hopes to enjoy you. This very evening betwixt seven and eight of the clock, at my Garden-house I intent to meet you, where shall be provided both repast and repose for you. Your welcome you know; my true heart you know: let not my freedom in these beget in you a disesteem. My bosom is only for you, let me receive like approvement from you.  
This Letter Madame D' Alveare receives; which hastens her intended revenge. Longer did not the day seem to that Corrival, for the enjoyment of her love; than it seemed tedious to this enraged Lady, to accomplish her revenge. Which she performed with an act of horror in this manner.  
Receiving benefit from the silence and secrecy of the Evening, a little before the time appointed, she privately repairs to the place; where she shrowds herself closely in a Tuft of shady Tamriks standing near to the Garden-house: expecting still her Corrivals approach. Which happened all too soon. For coming to open the Door, this revengeful Lady having her back towards her, pistolld her: using these words to aggravate the quality of her Crime:  
Dainty Madonna, your Lover now at last has found you to be true Pistol proof.  

But die they must, who hands in blood do dip,  
God's judgements well may sleep but cannot slip.   
And so it fell forth with this cruel Lady, who surprised by divine Justice, suffered a just legal censure for committing a fact of such horror.  
But of far larger extent was her revenge; who being satisfied of the disloyalty of her affectionate Servant: under a fair and friendly pretence, invited him and her Corrival to a banquet: where in divers sugar plates she had caused poison to be enclosed: with which she not only dispatched those two, at which principally her revenge was intended: but herself too, to the end that Tragedy might be more completely closed.  
Other instances I might here produce from our own Pale: but these may already seem too many, being personated in natures of so sweet and pliable a quality. Neither let these unpleasing Examples distaste them, seeing our pen is addressed to return them recompense in this Their Modest Defence, here prepared for them.   

SECTION VII. Their Modest Defence.  
NO age but may bring forth Precedents of clemency and cruelty in both Sexes: There have been ever Tares in the purest wheat; Cockle in the soundest grain; rankest weeds amongst freshest flowers. These were indeed, savage acts for such supple natures. But if the wisdom of Nature (to speak like a Natural man) hath provided for the poisonous Spider her Caule: give me leave, without the least apologizing of error, much less defending actions of such horror, to wove a thin Cobweb Veil in a Modest Defence of such, who, even in these designs though undeservedly have incurred high censure.  
It is an excellent rule which that Sententious Seneca sometimes observed, 
Maluerim veris offendere, quam placere adulando. Sen. de Clem. cap 1.  and to our use recommended: I had rather (saith he) offend by speaking truth, than please by playing the Flatterer; or palliating an untruth.  
And the same Rule shall it be our care religiously to observe. For where pens are free and not engaged to any; Truth must consequently be the argument of their Story.  
There is small doubt, but some will as highly reprove Lucilia for loving too much, as Livia for loving too little: Both were (equally) occasions of their Husband's deaths. Yet was there as great difference betwixt these two effects, as betwixt Love and Hate. Phedra and Dejanira, both of them brought their Husbands to untimely ends. Yet what the one did, was purposely done, to be rid of him: what the other did, was casually done to rid others love from him. Good intentions many times produce heavy Events. And now and then, mischievous plots Comical ends. Some have had their impostumes cured, by their weapons, by which they were wounded. Others have had their wounds empoisoned, where they expected to be cured.  
Olympia, mother to that great Commander, the invincible Alexander, could not but think it ill in her to prefer so unjust a Suit to her Son, as to request, nay conjure him by so many Motherly Obligements, to send forth his Command that One, and he an innocent One, but much hated by the Queen, should be forthwith executed: Yet was the effect hereof good. For as her noble Son dissuaded her from pressing any such unjust Suit: so it made him more cautious afterwards of entertaining any Suit, which his Mother preferred, through the injustice of that presidentall One which she presented.  
Mandanes, did ill in disclosing her Dream: for it plotted the ruin of her Son: yet the effect proved well: for the exposition of that dream made that Privy Counsellor of State, Harpagus, to provide for the Safety of the Child: and by the providence of heaven, to raise a flourishing Empire out of a Shepherd's Cottage.  
Again; of the contrary side: Clytaemnestra thought she had done well for the safety of Aegistus, when she privately hid him, when those Grecian Heralds summoned him; those fatal wars of Troy called for him. Yet what safety could there be in the arms of Adultery? A fearful revenge prevented their hopes! No sooner was that long ten years' Siege finished, unhappy Troy ruined; that light dishonoured booty, the hateful remains of vitiated beauty, wanton Helen restored, than Aegistus his shameful retire was fully revenged.  
The unfortunate Agrippina, whose birth was her bane, whose race was her ruin; thought she did well in fitting and accommodating her son, that Monster of men, for an Empire: yet happy had that Empire been, if it had never known such a son. His education prepared him to comply with time: To ingratiate himself with Senators and Plebians. To affect popularity: and to cover the craft and cruelty of his nature with a seeming Clemency, and graceful Majesty.  
Thus may you see, how good intentions may produce ill effects: and some mischievous Plots good ends. Some by loving their Husbands (or to use that complemental garb) their Servants too well, have by their too much love ruined both their Servants and themselves. Some desiring to please, have made them perish whom they sought to please. Like that over-kind Duck who perceiving her Sweetheart to be tiklish, and thinking it to be a pleasure, tickled him so long, till he burst his very Spleen with laughter.  
Now take a review of all those Tragic Examples, which in our last Section we presented to your sight! Was there any one of those induced to shed blood for any hope of honour? Filthy lucre? or any other pleasure, save only to become sole Sovereigns, or absolute commanders of their own Love? Their Plots were; not to bring in an Empire; usurp immerited honour, or to send their eyes abroad, to hunt for new favour. Their desires were confined, their affections closed; their goal obtained: so they might but enjoy, without Sharers, those whom they so infinitely loved. Content is worth a Crown: and this Crown they held themselves seized of, so long as they possessed their own.  
Their own, you will say! But you relate but of few such unto us. These whom you have brought forth for such Examples, had their bosoms open to more than their own Corrivals in others affections, as well as their own. Which as they fell into fearful extremes, so were they enlivened by unlawful desires.  
It is true; yet are we in charity to collect, that if they so highly valued stolen fruits, they would much more prise such as were lawfully enjoyed.  
You have heard sufficient store of Arguments and Precedents touching their Continency in assaults; their Constancy to their own. With what Equanimity they have borne all extremes to express their loyal hearts. Hope of fortunes could not tempt them; Baits of honour could not taint them; youthful pleasure could not take them. They continued Widows in the absence of their Husbands. Resembling Snails in the carriage of their houses: but Roes in dispatch of their business.  
Whence it was, as I conceive it, that the Romans had a custom, that when any of their Maids were married, they were to bring their household stuff with them, being such as was by their Friends bestowed on them; which being brought to their Bridegroom's house: They were likewise to follow in their Wain or Caroche (according to the quality of their persons) and at the Tressall of the door, to break the wheels of the Wain, and to put off their shoes; implying, that from thenceforth they were to be Housekeepers and no Gadders. And such constant House-wifes' have we here offered to your imitation.  
Plato in his Dialogue entitled Symposium or a Gossip-meeting, by way of fiction, (which relish best when they arise from a pure and refined invention) describeth the difference betwixt two kinds of Venus: whereof the first was more ancient, brought forth by the Heavens, whom Virtuous men do follow: the second much younger, begotten between jupiter and Dione, whom wicked men do serve. Which Fiction, as it is not without delight, so neither is the Moral without fruit.  
Ye Modest Ones, for to you only is our Lamp dedicated, are these who are brought forth by the Heavens. Your Thoughts are fixed on that Sphere from whence you came. It is not on earth that can depress you below yourselves, be your Fortunes never so dejected: nor on earth that may transport you, because your desires are higher seated. When you Love, that love of yours is so purely sifted from all loose love; as it confirms you nothing less than divine. When you Hate, that hate of yours is so far from all extremes: as you have an ear no less ready to hear a Submission, than a tender heart to seal their pardon. When you give, you give cheerfully; when you forgive, you forgive freely. You cannot hear any one defamed, but with an averse ear and declining heart, you leave the relater to himself: or dissuade him from dispersing such reports: or stand in defence of their honour whom you hear traduced, especially, when their absence leaves them unjustified. When any light object labours to suggest an impure thought to your unblemished minds: you take a wise course; you give it a repulse at the first assault: left getting entrance, it plead possession: and disturb the whole Family by her intrusion. Thus by making Heaven your Object; whatsoever is less than Heaven, you make your Subject.  
Your Speech, likewise is so seasoned; that nothing is uttered by you, but what is true; knowing, that the ground of every Speech should be Verity; nor any thing with vehemency pressed, but what may redound to civil profit; knowing, that the aim of every Speech should be Utility; nor continued, but with a pleasing sweetness; knowing, that the grace of every Speech is Affability. You think twice before you speak, and may be demanded twice before you answer. You are not like our forward Gossips, whose tongues make themselves thralls. Discretion has so regulated your Speech, as it ever stands at distance with Lightness and Spleen. Your words, unlike many of our feminine discourses, retain more weight than wind; they are like Nails fastened by the Elders of the Assembly; such is their efficacy. They are like Apples of Gold with Pictures of Silver; such is their propriety.  
All your Dialect is regulated by the Rule of Charity; you scorn to Speak that of another, which you would not have another to speak of you. Your Discourse differs far from that Talkative Orator, whose use was to pour forth an Ocean of Words, but a Drop of Reason. Or like that impertinent Speaker, of whose studied but stupid speech this judgement was given: That the shortness of it was the discreetest part of it. No; there is not an accent breathed by you, but it dignifies you: because preparation fits it: and an unaffected dress beautifies it. In a word; that which is a blemish in others, becomes an incomparable grace to you. For as you never minister occasion of discourse without cause; so you never close it without maturity of judgement and pregnancy of conceit.  
Your Actions, are so pure from stain, as they represent the purity of your state. Your Works desire not to be clothed with veils of darkness. You consider how that All-seeing Eye is over you, from which, though Adam fly to the bush, Sara behind the door, no, should the mountains offer themselves for a shroud: yet in vain is such retire: no place can hide us, from his eye that is ever over us.  
It was Seneca's council to his friend Lucilius, that whensoever he went about to do any thing, he should imagine Cato or Scipio, or some other worthy Roman to be in presence. This Rule you observe; you conceit with yourselves in the sacred silence of your hearts, which are so close from the affections of Earth, as they only aspire to the Contemplations of Heaven; that the eyes of all good men, no, even of those who are become Saints, of men, are upon you. Your desire is only to please them, who are only pleased with the Object of goodness: Being Pythagoreans to all the World, and Peripatetians to Christ; 
Nolan. 3.  mute to all vanities, and eloquent only to Christ.  
You follow the counsel of a mellifluous father, 
Bern. de vita solit●ria. Sen. Ep. 11.  and of a Wise Moral: by setting always before your eyes some Good person, to the end that you might so live as if he were ever looking on you, ever eyeing you.  
There is no young Gallant that need encounter you in those terms which that cautious Cavalier did in Erasmus to his wanton Mistress: Are you not ashamed to do that in the sight of God, and eyewitness of his holy Angels, which you are ashamed to do in the sight of men?  
But now to take a view of these Errors, to which your Sex becomes most engaged: or at least, for which you are many times innocently traduced. This free speaking Age will not stick to tax you of Ambition: and wherein must this consist but in your desire of precedency before others of your sex; and sovereignty over such as should be your heads? And these will tell you of an ancient custom, which if you observed as you ought you would not transgress that law of Obedience so much as you do. And this was; that when at any time a Couple were married, the sole of the Bridegroom's shoe was to be laid upon the Bride's head: implying, with what subjection she should serve her husband. But me thinks, this Ritual Emblem or Emblematical Rite was too much underfoot, to be observed by one that should be esteemed an equall-individuall mate. She came from his Side, not from his Foot. And though she be not to walk Checkmate with him, yet when her Check shall meet with him, it cannot choose but both appease him & please him when any thing shall distemper him. There are some likewise that will say, how your Ambition clozeth not only here: Your darling aim is Honour; you could love him that suits you, if he could bestow a new stile on you. The Title of Madam highly takes you. Nor is there any vanity that pleaseth more by playing on your fancy, than the naked Compliment of Lovely Lady. I have heard indeed, some of your Sex so affected; but alas, this was but an harmless Ambition. Of which humour, that honour-inamoured Damasella seemed to be, who in that Generall-grand Call of Knights, finding in her Husband an unwillingness to accept, as she conceived, of that Honour; so far at last prevailed with him by strong Reasons and high Relations of the Honour and Mirror of Knighthood, as she persuaded with him to entertain it. But upon his return home, having understood, how he had paid for what he got not; and disbursed money for that he had not: She entertained the poor Pilcherd with a Bastinado: telling him withal, that though his dungrell spirit would make her no Lady, her fury should make him know what she desired to be.  
Truth is, such an innate evil is the desire of Honour, as that person who affects it not, is of a rare temper. And yet that brave Girl seemed to be one of these; who being Ladyfide, by an honour conferred on her decrepit Husband: presently upon report of it, thus replied: Trust me, a Cullis were far more Sovereign for my spent Husband, than any Honour. For tell me, quoth she, speaking to the Messenger; will all this he hath gotten, restore in him Nature? Will it cure in him his dry Cough? Distillation of rheum from his head? That perpetual defluxion in his eyes? Will it strengthen his back? Will it make him bend less in the hams? Will it get me with Boy, which his Seere stock could never yet do? If his late-purchased Honour may produce these effects, I shall hold it worth acceptance: If otherwise, be it what it will, I shall hardly admire it, much less embrace it; seeing, a Post is still the same, be it never so neatly painted or pargetted.  
An other Error you are likewise taxed of (as what sex or degree so innocent, which the freedom of a calumnious tongue may not traduce) and it is, your usual frequent to Court-Maskes and other public State-Shows: where you use purposely to present yourselves, a pretty time before any such Shows are to be performed, in hope that some amorous Lord, or some other Complemental Court-Sparke will take you into some withdrawing room, to court your beauty, and so ingratiate himself within the easy Lists of your fancy. So as, you come not thither so much to see what is there presented; as to be amorously courted, affectionately suited; all which is with such yielding silence and pleasing smiles redarted, as they hold you won so soon as you are wooed, tainted as soon as you are attempted, soiled so soon as you are assailed, ent'red so soon as you are assaulted.  
Others likewise report you apt to take affection upon the moving of any personal Action. If you come to a Playhouse, and there chance to see an Active Roscius breathing life in his Action: you presently feel a glowing heat in your veins. You could find in your heart to bestow the choice of a Lover on such an Actor. Weake-grounded malice, to vent itself on such loving frailties! Injurious Tetters to female honours! Because their sweet pliable natures are such, as they can find no harbour for hate; must they therefore be taxed, because their Love breaks forth into too much heat? These deserve so little answering, as if they had no other Advocate, even Nature herself would plead for them.  
There be Some likewise who say; that as you are commonly light in the choice of your Love: so are you in your Love as subject to change. If your affection be for Youth; though it best please you: yet you can seemingly bestow it on Age, though nothing more displease you. And these effects those lovely fortunes of his loathed Love work in you. And what is all the employment you take in hand, after such time, as you have given him your hand and heart, (but with no good heart) but how to cousin him? Your use is, they will say, to give your old Chrone a sleeping powder; that you may take the keys of his treasure from under his head, the sooner, and so, long before his death, make yourselves his Administrators. You love him, but only in hope of a day will come: when you may freely make such an one his Heir, who may suit better with your affection, and in requital share freelier in his fortune.  
These will say too, that you bedew your Husband's Corpse with Stepdame's tears. Those funeral flowers which bestick and bedeck his Hearse, cannot be so soon withered, as your grief●s are vanished. You bury your sorrow with him: neither is that sorrow your own, but borrowed. A New-husband is formalled, before your old One be formally buried.  
Now; what poor traducements be these? Might Heathens have their times limited for mourning, and must yours be everlasting?  
Some will affirm too, that in comparison of men, your desires are more unbounded; and this, they say, even our own Modern Chronicles have sufficiently confirmed. But we find Bodin worthily taxed for writing that Caesar in his Commentaries should say, that the Englishmen of his time had but one woman for ten or twelve men; whereas indeed, Caesar never said so, or could say so, for that he never knew or heard of the name of Englishmen; seeing their coming into Britain, was (as may be clearly computed) almost 500 years after his death.  
Again; what might be the reason, will some object, why the Serpent first tempted the Woman rather than the Man? and this question (ever to your disadvantage) is no sooner, say they, proposed, than resolved by chrysostom. Women are naturally unwarier, easier, and frailer. So as, in that they are unwarier, they are easilier deceived; in that they are easier, they are sooner to good or evil persuaded; And in that they are frailer, they are the sooner vanquished. For this cause therefore would not the Devil assault the Man, but the Woman; for as much as he knew, that a Woman was sooner deceived, because unwarier; quicklier persuaded, because easier; and sooner vanquished, because frailer.  
But this Objection I have so clearly assoiled in the very first Subject of this Book; as I shall little need to stand in your Defence any further touching this particular. Only thus much may suffice: There is small question to be made, but the Serpent's cunning knew well that he might by all probability soon prevail upon the weakness of a Woman: yet albeit, she was first tempted, and tainted so soon as she consented: the Man was as soon persuaded by the Woman, though she infinitely less subtle than the Serpent; as the Woman, though the weaker vessel, was by the Subtlety of the Serpent.  
But we will pass from these, to those obvious reproofs which the present vanities of the Age lay upon you.  
Some here, amongst other objections, which groundless spleen is ever apt to suggest, and calumny with swift wings to disperse; will say that ever since that time, that your teeth watered at the Apple, they have ever watered at forbidden fruit. A liquorish and luscious tooth hath ever since that time seized on you. And were this all, it were to be borne with. You cannot see a proper piece of flesh, promising performance; no dapper youth, whose strong sinnewy posture confirms him an able complete Lover, but your eye woos him, and in so hot a chase pursues him, as though your tongue be silent, your sight is attractively eloquent.  
But what would these Critics have you do? Would they have you shut those beauteous Windows; and to open them to no Object that may delight you? Is there such a necessity that you cannot look on him, but you must lust after him? If there be any rare or prodigious Monster to be seen; we flock unto it, and bestow our money for the sight of it. And is it lawful for us to fix our eyes with such greediness on a Monster: and unlawful for you to delight that pleasing Sense with a beauteous Object of Nature?  
Yea; but will these say, we direct not our censure nor judgement only by the Eye; we have other arguments to evince them of lightness: for go to these late-licentiate Pattentary Sedans: you shall find them shrouded there for strange errands. Though their Couches have windows to eye Spectators; they would not for a World wish that which the Philosopher sometimes Wished: 
Epicurus.  To have windows in their breasts, that the whole World might transparently look through them. Poor Corky fools! These can see nothing wag, but they must p●epe here, and peep there, and think it is Actaeon's shadow: whereas, it is only the shadow of their own deluded fancy which inthrals them to this misery.  
Nor do these only tax you of a various lightness in respect of your Change, but of a jealous doubtfulness towards your own Choice. If you gossip it, none must question it: whereas, if they, good men, to allay a tedious hour, or drown the disquiets they suffer at home in a cup of Lethe, keep abroad late, they must be called to a strict account, and pay a new reckoning, after their misspent day, in the evening.  
Nay; you will tell your innocent Husbands, when, God knows, there is no great cause to suspect them: That you know by your pails, what way the milk goes. Whereas, if any rightly knew the integrity of your thoughts, they should find that such jealous surmizes were the least of your thought. No; you did never so much as suspect them, nor conceive any such opinion of them: for having such sensible experiments of their weakness, you knew well, there was no cause at all in that way to traduce them. It was your desire that late distempers should not abridge their days, and make you widows before your times. It was your aim, that your Husbands should preserve their fame: That they should not fall under the hazard of the Halberd, or the uncivile salute of a peremptory Watch. Besides, alas! it is your fortune, sometimes out of mere simplicity, to misconstrue the quality of an error. As that good Gentlewoman did, who desiring to hear how a young Student in Cambridge and her kinsman, behaved himself in the University: and enquiring of a Collegiate of his how he did: I can assure you, Mistress, quoth he, that he holds close to Catharine-Hall. I vow, said the Gentlewoman, there was no vice that I so much feared in him as that, for the Boy was given to wenches from his Infancy. Thus took this good simple woman, Catharine-Hall for some dainty Damsel which he constantly haunted, whereas it was a Collegiat-Hall, which this young Student so affectionately loved, and where he so studiously frequented.  
But let us go on with these ungrounded calumnies; and discuss the strength and solidity of them to the bottom. Some of these Timonists, or feminine Tetters, tax you of unbounded pride: These pencyle out your Borders, Habilements and Embroideries; your toys, tires and dress; your wimples, wires, and curl; your paintings, poudring and purfling. These, say they, make your father's patrimonies to shake, to maintain your bravery while you are Maids: And makes your Husband's Manors, to do you service, pass the Alienation Office. Alas, poor Girls! If you appear careless in your dress, you are quickly taxed of discontent; and if neat in your dress, you are censured of pride. What you do (I freely appeal to yourselves) is to please the curious eyes of your Husbands: And perchance to prevent the worst: for should they see you sluttish, who knows not, but it might beget instead of loving you, a loathing of you; and consequently, make them hunt after new Mistresses: which would ruin all, by making such a breach, as scarce time could repair, or the remainder of their declining fortunes redeem?  
It was the opinion of Lessius, that in some cases Women might use their painting and powdering without sin: First, if it were to the intent to cover any blemish or deformity: Secondly, 
L●ssius de I●stitia & ●ure, l●b. 4. 〈…〉. 802. Pet. Al●go●a in Co●pend●o M●nu●l ●a●arr●, c. 2● Num. 19 ●ol. 257.  if the Husband commanded it, to the end his Wife might seem more comely in the presence of others: which was likewise the express opinion of Alagora: That to add more beauty, were it by appareling or painting, yea though it were a mere work of Art, and colourably deluding, yet were it no mortal sin: confidentely maintaining the use of painting, grounded upon these precedent respects.  
But I shall not desire that my Lamp may give light to that line, which may seem to give fuel or foment to any light love. The age is apt enough to sacrifice too many precious hours to Idolatrize such a Shrine. My aim is only in a fair and just defence of your imitable actions, to wipe of all such injurious aspersions as calumnious pens shall or may lay on you.  
In which Task, I hold my oil so much the better bestowed; for that I am confident that whereinsoever you are defective, you will labour to supply it, by perusing this and collecting hence what may truly make you most amiable and accomplished.  
In the mean time, it shall be my constant opinion (nor do I fear that there shall be found the least sprinkling of heresy in it) that these Stigmatick Spirits, who have steeped their pens so deep in gall, have sometimes received some occasional scars from the worst, which has made them so causelessly, and without exception to inveigh against the best. For these (as I conceive) have unhappily got a blow on the shins with a French faggot, or fed too freely on a Neapolitan Rabbit. These are they, and only they, who stick not to say, if you be old, you are loathsome; if young, you are gamesome: you can scorn them that love you; love them that scorn you. You can play the Snakes, shrouding yourselves under the freshest and fragrant'st flowers: but you have a sting to dart upon every State. You can play the Sirens by tuning your voice, to allure the amorous Passenger to Vice: But slight you these malicious affronts: you have within you to secure you; which will so highly improve you, as you remain perched above the compass or reach of scandal. Yet is not all this which hath been hitherto spoken in your Defence, so to secure you (for so should I delude you) as to dissuade you from standing upon your guard. There is in no place security, brave Ladies: Neither in Heaven, nor in Paradise: much less in the World. 
Esay 14.12.  For in Heaven the first Angel fell. Whence Esay: How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of ●he morning? For he fell under the very power of the Deity. Adam in Paradise, 
Bern.  the place of all delicacy. judas in the World, from the School of our Saviour, the Seed-plot of all Sanctity. In one word, are ye Maids? you have your pattern in a Dor●as. Are ye Wives? you have your pattern in an Esther. Are ye Widows? you have your pattern in a judith. These, though dead, their memories live: and by their lives prescribe you how to live; that living as they lived, and doing as they did, your memories may live when you are dead.  
And so I descend from their Modest Defence, well becoming Creatures of such divine Excellence, to their Witty Aphorisms, Apothegms and Answers; which I shall illustrate in sundry choice and select instances.   

SECTION VIII. Their witty Aphorisms, Apothegms and Answers.  
TOo straight and narrow was the confine of his shallow conceit, who wished his wife to have no more wit than to go out o'th' rain. It seems, he had a desire to engross it all to himself, and to suffer his wife to have small or no share with him. But such a Consort were a poor Help. We shall here find Creatures of an higher pitch: such, who knew how to allay the discomforts of a perplexed Husband by their wise and sociable sharing with him in his affliction. Others so nobly composed, as they scorned to stoop to the lest thought of baseness, when crushed with the greatest weight of affliction. Others so far from coyness to those they loved, as to their highest hazards, they not only expressed it, but suffered for their affections. Others such kind loving Turtles, as they could not endure to lose the presence of their own; or to conceive any defects or infirmities in their own: and though all beside themselves distasted them: yet were their true affectionate thoughts ever individually knit and cemented to them. Others, who could make such excellent use of their decayed beauty; as they made it their Emblem of mortality: begetting no less veneration with their riveled age, than they did affection with their enamoured youth. Instances in each of these we shall take occasion to offer unto you, with such witty Aphorisms, pretty Apothegms, and pithy Answers; as may infinitely delight you. And first, of such as could apply comforts and cordials, seasonably to their disconsolate Husbands, when surrounded with Objects of approaching misery.  
☞ Theogena wife to Agathocles (of whom we have made honourable mention elsewhere) showed admirable constancy in her Husband's greatest misery: showing her self most his own, when he was relinquished and forsaken of his own: and confirming her true affection with this resolution: That she was not given him to leave him, or to share with him only in prosperity, but in what fortune soever should befall him, to keep him company.  
The like constancy of love, and comfort in advice showed Sulpitia to her●, when she plainly told him: What, though Fortune leave you, she who loves you best, and whom you should love best cannot leave you? Should you be wholly miserable, she will part stakes wlth you, to make you less miserable.  
Secondly, for such, whose brave and well-composed temper would not suffer their masculine spirits to stoop to any Disasters: we shall furnish you with imitable patterns in that kind: A lovely Lydia, who could with Medea in the Tragedy, express herself nobly, and make death and danger the least of her fears.  
Who can be forced, she knows not how to die;  
Honour knows how to suffer, so do I.  
This that brave-spirited Martia showed good proof of, curing all threats with this exquisite receipt: I know well how to pay my debt to Nature, but I hope I shall never know, how to ransom life with dishonour.  
Thirdly, you shall find such, who were so far from coyness to those they loved, as no danger could decline them from their embraces, to whom they had sacrificed their affections. This that incomparable Marcelia well discovered; answering such as advised her to be more reserved in her love, with that elegant Poet, in this manner: 


Ovid.  Non here conveniunt, nec in unâ sede morantur  
Majestas & Amor—   

Love coyness hates, as Birds distempered weather,  
" For Love and Majesty suit ill together.    
This that constant Chariclea expressed to her dearest Archas; when in a Tablet she caused this to be engraven, to confirm her resolution, in despite of all opposition: May I sooner leave to live, than my Archas whom I love.  
In the fourth siege, (though they deserve an higher place) shall you see presented such tenderhearted Turtles, who held it a punishment worse than death, to be deprived of the presence of their own: No Object could delight them, being reft their sight whose affection only enchained them.  
Of this rank both Divine and Humane Stories render us two examples: The one is that of Caja Tranquilla, who ever used this apt Posy for a Bride-bush, to her royal Spouse Caius Tarqvinius Priscus; Where thou art Caius, I am Caia. The other, that of Ruth unto Naomi; Whither thou goest, I will go: and where thou dwellest, I I will dwell.  
☞ This that noble Lady Armenia, (whom we have formerly mentioned, and whose memory cannot be too much revived) with a princely modesty seconded; when being invited to King Cyrus' Wedding, went thither with her Husband. At night when they were returned home, her Husband asked her, (amongst other Curtain parlance) how she liked the Bridegroom, whether she thought him to be a fair and beautiful Prince or no? Truth, saith she, I know not: for all the while I was forth, I cast mine eyes upon none other, but upon thyself.  
Nor could some of these conceive any such defects in their Husbands, as were more than manifest to the Senses of others. So as, when one of Hiero's enemies reproaching him with a stinking breath: he went home and questioned his Wife why she told him not thereof? Who answered, She thought all men had the same savour. Which confirms what Plato sometimes affirmed: The Lover is ever blinded with affection towards his or her beloved.  
No less graceful than loyal was the answer of that young Bride to her Husband; 
The loving and loyal answer of a young-married Bride, to her Husband, touching the late rumour of our Scottish wars.  who being borne of the Scottish borders, & married to an Englishman, was demanded one day by her Husband, whether, if she were to play the Soldier, she would fight for her own Nation, or for his? As I ●all, quoth she, ever an aye acknowledge my Husband for my head, so God forefend that I sud crack the allegiance I owe to the head of my Husband.  
☞ Some Aphorisms there be, if they may merit that stile, who lose much of their state, by their too weak discovery of an Anacreontick Spirit, and rendering themselves too light.  
That wench was of a more amiable face, than admirable conceit: who having entered marriage with a Tradesman, and afterwards entertaining too familiar acquaintance with a Knight; By whom, as it was suspected, she had children as well as by her own Husband: sticked not to ask this wise question at a Gossip's feast: Put case, a Woman having issue by a Knight, with whom she was acquainted, as well as by a Man of Trade, to whom she was married; whether those children she had by the Knight, might not take the wall of those she had by a Man of Trade? Or, being to be made Apprentices, whether they might not be Freemen before their Elder Brothers?  
A reverend old Bencher, the very first night that he went to bed to his Lady; She sent forth a Shriek; and being asked the cause; How could I do less? said she; If the embraces of an Husband be so cold, What coldness shall I find in the arms of Death?  
That amorous Tomboy was a kinder Trout; who, though she had no competent portion, yet had she a compatible proportion, an incomparable affection. She, one day, upon a loving Interview, debated the matter with her Sweetheart in this sort: Sir, I cannot conceive how you should love me, seeing you spin out so much time, when you so shortly may really enjoy me. You make much ado in getting of a portion, Whereas with less ado we might beget a Christian. Had I more, you should enjoy it: having less, your joy should be no less, in enjoying me with it.  
That Girl approved herself an expert and experienced Artist for repairing the decays of a broken Tradesman; who being rudely encountered by One, who showed himself more haughty, than his state was weighty; more sensually light than suited with his gravity: Sir, you've lent me your pulse, and I have found your disease.— Now, the best Receipt for any one who pines away of a Consumption in the bowels of his Estate, (of which distemper I find you labour) is store of Monopolian gold decocted from a Pound to a Noble; and to take such a quantity of this in a broth from six Mooneths to six Mooneths. A precious Cordial to make rich Heirs, and rare tears at a Funeral.  
That hot- brained Calacute showed himself of too Italianate a temper; whose Wife being surprised with an extreme Fever, which drove her into so a violent a distemper; as the fury or frenzy rather of her disease, forced her to discover many things she did, and (perchance) more than she ever did. He, after her recovery, believing what her distraction had intemperately disclosed, willed her to go along with him to his Countryhouse: where, upon his departure from her, he was pleased to use these words unto her: Madonna, here I intent to leave you; for I must tell you, I love your room more than your Company, such is my affection. And I replied she) prefer Rome before your Company, such is my devotion.  
That hapless Malcontent fell upon a desperate conclusion; who, having relinquished his own Bed for the embraces of a a Strange Woman: and in a Melancholy Fit, taking a pint of white Wine and mixing it strongly with Mercury; Willed his Courtesan (as ever she loved him) to drink half unto him: She, whether out of a servile fear, (or which is more rare in one of her condition) out of a real love, drunk it to him; which he with an active hand stirring, to make it more powerful, pledged and drunk it of to the bottom. She, to express a care of his life, as she had formerly tendered to his love; having in readiness some salad-oil with other sovereign receipts to repel poison, mixed them in another pint: Willing him (as ever he loved her) to pledge her another health; But his desperate melancholy would not accept it: While she, no less desirous to live; than tender of his love, drunk it, and recovered by it.  
But to leave the Suburra, and approach the Temple of Viriplaca; a place of more peace, and in the eye of goodness deserving more praise.  
☞ The Last, though not lowest, because furthest divided and estranged in their thoughts from earth; are those, whose decayed beauty, though it he's divorced them from youthful affection: yet hath the constant opinion of their goodness purchased to their riveled age, a reverend estimation. This appeared in that sometimes fair Bellingeria's excellent Apothegme: Though our beauty be despicable in the eye of youth: 
juvenilem vul tum amisimus, Senilem cultu● atsigimus.  our rivels are venerable in the eye of age. Though we lose that which our beauty did gain, opinion: yet we retain that which our beauty might have lost, reputation. What divine use that excellent Eugenia made of her decayed beauty, may be gathered by this expressive Aphorism: Sometimes I made my Glass a Corrector of my Face: now I make my Face the Corrector of my Life. Nor is it possible I should forget my Grave, beholding so many Graves (meaning furrows) in my Face.  
We shall find Aphorisms, Apothegms and Answers of another nature, and a rising from a lighter temper; less serious, but no less ingenious.  
This that pretty pert Girl expressed in her quick answer to her Mother; who being reproved by her for looking so boldly on men's faces, saying, that it became Maids to be bashful, and to look upon the Earth, and for Men to look upon Maids. No, Mother by your favour, quoth she, it rather becomes Maids to look upon Men, and for Men to look upon the Earth. For as Man is to look upon that whereof he was made, that is, the Earth: so is a Maid to look upon that whereof she was made, and that was Man.  
She came nothing short of this Girl's boldness, occasioned by her own lightness, who after such time as she had too freely played the Wanton, left the Child which she had brought forth to the Care and Charge of the Parish: and being rebuked for it, saying, she was unthankful, so to abuse that place where she had received so many Courtesies: O, quoth she, no such matter; I have in this rather shown myself every way ready to tender a requital, than any way ungrateful: For in this, I resemble the Stork, a Bird of a thankful nature, who ever leaves one of her young Ones in the house where she breeds them to the Owner.  
☞ That witty wench returned to a Dunce in a Cassock as shrewd an answer (though she ever reflected more religiously upon her conjugal honour;) Who telling this Maid, that Women were at best but Necessary Evils, and that they were never needful to any but in time of necessity: whereas the Lord stood in need of such as him. Truly, quoth she, I highly honour your place, yet did I never read that the Lord stood in need of any thing but an Ass.  
That well-meaning Wife knew rightwell how to shape her Husband a Reply: Who, when her Husband told her that it should be progress time for a season with him, and that they might lie apart, because it was Dog-days: Well, Husband, (quoth she) but I hope there are no Dogge-nights'.  
No less to purpose was that good Wife's answer to that Chemic Doctor: Who, telling her what rare experiments his sublimated Art had extracted from the Philosopher's stone. And that Kelly (that Austrian Captive) was but to him a Puny in that Mysterious Secrecy: And that, he would not only make her Pots, Pipkings, Kettles, Land-irons with all her other Utensiles, pure Indian Gold; but convert herself too, if she pleased, into the very same Mettle, and not only colour, but cover her quite over with gold: O no, by no means, quoth she, Good master Alchemist; I had rather be covered with a little good flesh, than all the gold of the Indies.  
Of such present flashes and flourishes of feminine wit, we might here in large ourselves with variety of Instances; but these for a taste, may serve at this time for a sufficient repast. Hence it may appear that our endeavours have been employed, not only to express their maturity of judgement, which i● of highest worth; but likewise their pregnancy of conceit, an infallible argument of a Mother-wit.  
From these are we to descend in order, to the last but not lest improvement of their honour: Their Eminent Labours; and how they were Assistants in the exquisitest Works that have been formerly composed, either for History or Poesy. Which relation will redound no less highly to their glory.   

SECTION IX. Their Eminent Labours; And how they were Assistants in the exquisitest Works that have been formerly composed, either for History or Poesy.  

This clozing Section is illustrated with examples of incomparable constancy, judgement, ingenuity, in that excellent History of Philocl●s and Doricl●a.  SUCH men, who have casten their Lots in fair fields, by making choice of such consorts, whose virtues confirm them Mirrors, and whose lives are lines of examples unto others; find Hymen smiling, nay shining on their Nuptials all the year long. Whereas such, who cast their Lots in barren fields, by joining hands to sensual Brides, Brothell-Beds: who are nothing but voice or air; with a small portion of skin-deepe beauty to practise on deluded Sense, till it grow weary. The Bodies of such men, I say, begin to undergo Mezentius torment, living in the embraces of the dead till they die. For as death holds in his power all that is past, governs all that is present, and pretends to govern all that is to come: the very like Sovereignty has death over these who have enwreathed and embathed themselves in such loathed embraces. Dead they are to all former comforts, for those are vanished: Dead to all present comforts, for these are from them estranged: Dead to all future comforts, unless their earth be with Heaven exchanged.  
The Stomach, (to use the words of an experienced Practist) resembleth the good man of the House, and being the cause of all Concoction and Digestion, must be fortified and strengthened, by being kept temperately warm, retentive, and clean, without oppressing humours; not empty, or fasting, being nourished by itself, more than by the reins; and lastly in appetite, whereby Digestion is sharpened.  
Their Stomaches are of a strong Concoction, that could digest Wenches of such an humorous condition. But I shall spread a Table dished up with Creatures of another nature, choicer temper, and such, as with modesty and majesty can tender you a Bolster Lecture.  
Not a smile but implies state; No light smile that may imply a stain. In these you shall find (to use Verstegens words) A restitution of decayed intelligence in Antiquities, concerning their own Nation. And lest I should keep your Stomaches too sharp, or tire your patience with too long preambles, I present here unto you their Catalogue.  
Zenobia, (to begin with a Princely pattern) after the death of her dear Spouse Odonatus, though a Barbarian Queen, yet by her reading of both Roman and Greek Histories, with other memorable relations, suiting well with the passage and posture of those times, so managed the State of that rich and free City Palmyra in Syria, as she retained those fierce and intractable people in her obedience: and in a Princely privacy, reserving ever some select hours for perusal of Philosophical Politics, Economics, Natural and Moral Philosophy, Discourses of History; all which held good 0correspondence with her Majesty, she a bridged the Alexandrian, and all the Oriental Histories: a task of no less difficulty than utility; whereby she attained the highest pitch of wisdom and authority.  
The like inward beauty upon her Sex, bestowed that virtuous Cornelia, mother to the victorious Gracchus; who, as she was an Exemplar or Mirror of goodness and chastity; so by the improvement of her education to her children (the lineal branches of so hopeful a succession) she expressed herself a noble Mother, in seasoning their unriper years, in the studies of History, Poesy, and Philosophy. Next her, Portia, Brutus his wife; Cleobula, daughter to Cleobulus, one of the seven Sages of Greece. The daughter of Pythagoras (to leave Rome and descend to Samos) who after his death governed his School; excelling in all humane Learning; and afterwards, to give the World a further testimony of her chastity, as well as ability; erecting a College of Virgins, she became sole governess or guardinesse of it. What shall I say of Theano, daughter to Metapontus, a disciple of the same Sect? Of which name there were two; both highly enriched with all knowledge. The one a learned woman of Crete, and wife to Pythagoras: the other the wise of Antenor, who was the Priest of Pallas. What of Phemone, that mysterious Sibyl, who first gave life to an Heroic verse: and in exquisite composures (amongst other prophetical raptures) recounted the memorable actions & occurrents of her time? What of Sulpitia, Calanus his wife, far wiser than her ill-advised husband, who before great Alexander, feeling himself sick and distempered, leapt into a great fire and there was burned: for she left behind her most sovereign Precepts touching Wedlock, with the Relations of that age, in a most proper and elegant style? And Hortensia, daughter to that most famous Orator Hortensius, who for copiousness of speech, gravity or weight of sentence, gave a living lustre to her lines, a succeeding ●ame to her Works? And Edesia, borne at Alexandria, one of such infinite Learning, sweetness of disposition, as she was highly admired by those that lived in her time: and amongst other excellences (to make her more accomplished both in foreign and modern affairs) singularly read in Histories; then held a Study worthy the entertainment of noblest Ladies? And Corinnathia, who is reported to have surpassed the Poet Pindarus in artful and exact composures: contending with him five several times, (as may be probably gathered by the testimonies of the Ancient, and such as were happy Spectators of those glorious Duelloes) for the Laurel Chaplet or Coronet, usually bestowed upon such ingenious followers and favourites of the Muses? And Paula, Seneca's wife, a Matron not only improved by his instructions, but highly enriched by the benefit of her own proper Studies: ever reserving some choice hours for the perusal of such Relations, as either in those or preceding times had occurred. So as, we may very well gather, whence the ground of her husband's grief proceeded; whence the source of his sorrow was derived, in bewailing the ignorance of his Mother, not sufficiently seasoned in the Precepts of his Father: by reflecting upon the abilities of his Paula, whose discourse for History, Moral Philosophy, and all Humanity appeared so genuine and proper, as her very name conferred on her Family a succeeding honour. Lastly, (that I may not dwell too long on these Feminine Features, Memorable Mirrors, lest their diligence should tax some of our trimmer Ladies of their supine and neglectful errors) Argentaria Pollia, or Polla, wife to the Heroic Lucan, is said to have assisted him in the apt and majestic composure of his verses: being no less rich in fancy, than he himself when most enlivened by a Poetical fury. Nor did she restrain her more prosperous studies, only to dimensions; being no less conversant in Historical Relations, with other humane Sciences, than Poetical raptures.  
Such as these might make good Companions to Pray with, to Play with, to Converse or Commerce with. These make the cheerful beams of every day break forth, as if every day were the Solemnisation of a new Marriage day. These with an averse ear listen to the Apocryphal verses of those foundlings, nor can they credit them, when they hear them: 

Primus erit Mensis Mellitus Origine Sponsis,  
Proximus extinctas sentit amore faces.   

First Months an Honey Month unto the Bride,  
Next Month all fondling must be laid aside.    
These have no knowledge of any such proverbial experiments. For so much estranged were they from fondness (an error too familiar with New-married Couples) as their discretion could never incline to any such lightness. Their youth never admitted youthful parlance: nor stooped to any uncomely dalliance. Their affections were not grounded on Sense, which made them to be of longer continuance. For those Loves quickly expire and die, which receive their only infusion by the eye.  
If thou wilt believe thy eyes, says Love's Lecturer, thou givest credit to thy betrayers; thy spirit will suffer a thousand pains and confusions: thou wilt take looks for azure Mountains, because that distance and proximity deceive the sight: a river may also deceive thee in its course, till a branch or straw inform thee what way the stream goes. So may the Glow-worm delude thee with her burnished Skales, and with a counterfeit shine surprise thy sight.  
Know, I say know (if at any time, any such adulterate beauty shall seize on thee) that this Woman, this sin-●eered Courtesan; who seems formally perfect, gulls and abuses thee. Yesternight she slept ugly, and this Morning is adorned with that beauty that thou so much praisest, so highly prizest, and yet she holds it not but by hire.  
If thou hadst piecemeal examined her, thou wouldst have found nothing but prinned cloth, parget powder and plaster; and to begin her anatomy at the head, the hair she wears came from the Periwigge-makers shop; for her own was blown away with an ill-wind that came from Naples; and if any remains, she dares not show it, lest it should accuse her of the Time past. Her Eyes have no other brows than those which a Pencil makes. Nor her face no other colour than that of painting: 'Tis an old Idol newly painted over, and yet it is no little wonder to see a Picture have Motion: and she is such a one, who hath almost found the secret of that famous Necromancer (that pretended to grow young again, by shutting himself in a glasse-violl) since that all that which hath made her appear so fair, as thou speakest, comes from the Alembick waters, Esseno's, and painting. If she would suffer her face to be washed, thou wouldst know her no more, she would be hideous unto thee; rivels and ridges would each where encounter thee: And were it not for the Confections she eats and the Perfumes she wears, her mouth and feet would quickly make thee stop thy nose; if thou shouldst kiss her, all thy lips would be stuck with oil and grease; embrace her, and she is nought but pastboord, canvas, & whale-bone, with which all the body of her gown (the better body of the too) is stuffed, to repair the faults of her proportion; and when she goes to bed, she leaves upon the table (at her beds-feet) half of her person in putting of her clothes.  
Upon what then is thy bleered Judgement founded, that thou findest her so accomplished? Thy eyes have they not betrayed thee? Admire thou thy ignorance, and know (not to trouble myself with this woman's imperfections) that most of the rest of the Sex (meaning such only as have engaged themselves to shame, and exposed their honour to sale) are but beasts full of pride, who triumph over the simplicity of men: and that even those who seem to be worth something, bring a thousand sufferings to those that seek after them; so that at the end of the account, the expenses do always arise to more than the Principal.  
And to make thee despise the embraces of these kind of Creatures, put before thy eyes that secret infirmity, to which nature hath so often subjected them; and I believe thou wilt entertain a profitable disdain, and repent that thou ever lovedst a thing so vile and hateful.  
By this, we may collect how miserable that Love is which draws breath from a deceiving sense: whose beginning, as the best of it is but fonding, so the issue thereof is many times seconded with distaste and revenge, closing their once pretended, but now vanished love, with an easy forgetfulness. For None takes greater pleasure to be revenged than a Woman, when she revenges herself on her discarded Friend or Favourite; and to play with advantage is the most pleasing and greatest vengeance that can be taken. And that they are apt to forget, who is it having eyes, and sees not? Experience will tell you, that she has seen one, that with her right eye wept for her dead Husband, and with her left laughed to her living Friend. But we have reserved our Lines, and bestowed our Oil on better Subjects. For even to descend to our own Modern times, we shall find store of noble Ladies, who are enriched with such unequal abilities, such matchless endowments both by Art and Nature, as they have deservingly acquired, and constantly retained that Select style of THE WITS. Their desire is, to have their Muses rather Buskined than Busked. Sweet and dainty Airs are the attendants of their Ears. High and Heroick measures those treasures, which they desire to store; and which give an incomparable grace to the Theatre of our state.  
These are they, who hold hours of such estimate; as they cannot endure that the least minute should expire in vapour, or spend itself upon perfume or powder. Yea, with some of their precious darling Poems have I sometimes encountered, wherein I found couched such a priority of Art and Conceit, as they matched if they outstriped not many of our most ambitious and laurel-assuming Labours.  
Others we have, who though they be not altogether so happy for strength of fancy; yet are they no less useful in an other faculty. And these be such, as read Principles of Housewifery to their well-ordered Family. These will never spend, where discretion bids them spare; nor spare, where reputation bids them spend. These know how to command without domineering, how to manage the charge of an House without mutining. These can welcome their Husband's home with an affable smile: and can put on the same Countenance in the entertainment of his Friend, without a thought of ill. These, though their care be great; yet so modest are they in arrogating aught to themselves, as they ascribe the good carriage and dispatch of all things to their Husband's wisdom and providence: holding ever the approvement of his fame, to be the improvement of their own. If at any time, These be given to Read; they make right use of what they read. They read not to dispute, but to live: Not to talk, but to know. Humility ever keeps them Company, both in Gate, Speech, Look, and Habit. They are circumspect whom they consort with▪ ever remembering that true Maxim: Tell me with whom thou conversest, and I will tell thee what thou art. To prevent the worst, they address themselves to the best, converse with the best: bestowing all hours of the day upon some proper employment. For they find more by Reading, than their own practic declining, that all Loose and Effeminate infirmities proceed only through idleness; for where that is, lust finds easy access. So saith Petrarch in his Triumph of Love.  

Einacque di otio e di lasciuta humana.  Where observation may inform every cautious Reader, lest through indiscretion he deservingly suffer; That a man ill-married, may boast that he possesses in the person of his Wife, all necessary qualities to be put into the List of Martyrs.  
Whereas, these, whom we here discourse of, are so far from making their Husbands suffer, as they esteem it their highest honour, equally to close with them in the harmony of their comforts; and to allay the surcharge of their griefs with the sweetness of their temper. This the Poet in the person of Cyrnus cheerfully chanted: 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Theog.  
Than a good Woman nought can sweeter be,  
Thou Cyrnus knows't, be witness then with me.   
In one word then, Brave and noble-disposed Ladies, be it your care to be the Same we have described you; so may you amply requite us for this Service we have done you.   
FINIS.