CUPIDS' MESSENGER: OR, A trusty Friend stored with sundry sorts of serious, witty, pleasant, amorous, and delightful Letters. What Cupid blushes to discover, Thus to write he learns the Lover. Newly written. Cupid with bow and arrow aiming at richly dressed man and woman standing close together (with her left hand in his) in a landscape How Not love, Thou Shalt love Printed at London by M. F. and are to be sold by Francis Grove over against the Saracens head without Newgate 1629. The Contents. A Letter inviting his Friend to write to him. Fol. 1 The answer. A Letter excusatory for not writing Fol. 2 A Letter to a friend upon the death of his wife. Fol. 3 A comfortable Letter upon the loss of an husband. Fol. 4 A Letter of grief for friends absence. Fol. 5 A Letter for the entreaty of good will to a young Gentlewoman. ibid. Her Answer. Fol. 7 Another Letter to his Mistress, desiring her love. Her answer. Fol. 8 To a beauteous Lady upon a long affection. Fol. 9 Her Answer. Fol. 10 To a judicious Gentlewoman. Her answer Fol. 11 To a Lady, with whom he fell in love seeing her at a solemn Triumph. Fol. 12 Her Answer. Fol. 13 To his Mistress that was of wanton and light carriage. Fol. 14 Her Answer. Fol. 15 A desperate Lover to his quondam Mistress. Fol. 16 Her Answer. Fol. 17 A Letter of true kindness. Her answer. Fol. 18 A Letter of counsel from a discreet mother to her daughter newly married. Her answer Fol. 19 A Letter in case of wrong supposed to be committed. Fol. 20 A Letter from his Servant to his Master. Fol. 21 An answer of a Letter for courtesy and favour received. Fol. 22 The Father's Letter against the Son. Fol. 23 The Answer. Fol. 24 To his mistress (quondam) having spent all his means upon her in prosperity he being imprisoned she forsakes him. Fol. 25 To his friend lying long sick. Fol. 26 A Letter wherein is recommended to a Nobleman from his inferior the conditions and behaviour of a person. Fol. 27 The Answer. Fol. 28 A merry Letter to his friend in London. Fol. 29 A Letter gratulatory. Fol. 30 A Letter to his silent friend. The Answer. Fol. 31 A Letter expostulatory for breach of promise. Fol. 32 To his friend salve to poverty. ibid. A Letter of a Gentlewoman to a Gentleman with whom she fell in love, and, His Answer. Fol. 33. 34 A Letter from a Chapman in the Country to a Tradesman in London. with, The Answer. Fol. 35. 36 A Letter of thankfulness for kindness shown to his son. Fol. 37 The Answer. Fol. 38 A Letter to his Mistress in the Country that desired news from the City. ibid. Her Answer. Fol. 40 A wooing and comfortable letter to a noble widow that had newly lost her husband. Fol. 41 Her Answer. Fol. 42 Another to the same purpose. Fol. 43 Her Answer. Fol. 44 A Letter of discontent after the falling out of Lovers. Fol. 45 To his angry Mistress. Fol. 46 A Letter from an Apprentice in London, to his father in the Country. ibid. A Letter from a husband to his wife. Her Answer. Fol. 47. 58 A Letter from one kinsman to another in London or any other place. Fol. 49 A Letter to request the borrowing of hundred pounds. Fol. 50 The Answer. Fol. 51 A Letter to his friend for breach of promise. Fol. 52 The Answer. Fol. 53 To his friend a Mercer. Fol. 53 A Letter to an unfaithful friend. ibid. A Letter for admittance into service. Fol. 55 To his love upon a long and fruitless affection. Fol. 56 To his sweet heart in the Country. ibid. A young man's Letter to his enamoured mistress. Fol. 57 Her kinds answer. Fol. 58 A Letter of Request. ibid. A Letter of discontent, upon a denial of a Request. Fol. 59 To a Court Lady. Her Answer. Fol. 59 60 CUPIDS' MESSENGER DELIVERING SUNDRY Excellent Letters. A Letter inviting his Friend to write to him. THough the want of your sweet society my worthy Friend) do occasion reason of grief, yet it lies in you even by the often mission of your desired Letters, to mitigate that sorrow: and since the distance of place doth deny us our accustomed conference and oral communication, let the passage and intercourse of our Letters supply that defect. Now our tongues cannot be heard, let us be frequent in our writing: and let not the change of places alter our minds. Therefore that you might not judge me negligent of our fore passed amity, or forgetful of our old friendship, I have taken boldness to visit you with this letter, desiring you to be no niggard in this kind of friendly remembrance. I wish to you all prosperous fortunes as to myself, and continue my love to you with all sincerity. But lest the proliritie of my Letter grow to the length of an Oration, I set bounds to my writing, and remains Yours in boundless affection, C. D. London. Febr. 4. 1629. The Answer. A Letter excusatory for not writing. I Am afraid (judicious and kind sir) that it is with me as it is with that unfortunate Pilot who falls into the Gulf of Scylla, while he endeavours to avoid the danger of Charybdis. Incidit in Scyllam cupidus vitare Charybdim. I confess I have received Letters from you, and seeking by not answering all this while to conceal the rudeness of my unpolished pen from the deep discerning eye of your judgement, I doubt whether I have not made shipwreck of your good opinion, who happily imputes my silence unto my negligence of your love, or to my oblivion of your passed kindnesses: But I beseech you (kindest Sir) to have thus much confidence in disposition, that no confused Chaos of cogitations, no fullness of employment, shall banish your remembrance out of my thoughts: though I be never so busy I make answer to those I little regard, I dare scarce write to you (I am possessed with such a due reverence of your worthiness) when I am most at leisure. Yet finding in myself how fare greater a crime it is to neglect duty then to lay open my imperfection to a well wishing friend, I have chosen the latter to make tender of the former: wishing that as you equalise grave Nestor in wisdom, so you might parallel him in the longaevity of a happy life, I humbly surccase: At your command. E R. Newcastle, june 2. 1629. A Letter to a friend upon the death of his wife. THe acquaintance I had with your virtuous wife (honest friend) makes me feel the sense of her loss, for he that can be insensible of the loss of a good woman, is an alien to nature, and a rebel to all moral virtues. I may truly say she was praiseworthy for her many good parts, but they were but good provisions for the world to come. Give me leave to ask you why you mourn, I mean not why you mourn outwardly; which is an old custom and a matter of formality, but why do you mourn inwardly, which is the true sorrow: you will say (I say) for the loss of a companion. Indeed you do well, for as a man was solitary before God gave him one, so should he be after God takes her away: but there is a mean in all things. To be hard hearted is beast like, to been tender is effeminate, to be sensible is manly. As for you, you cannot offer a more acceptable sacrifice to the dead, then by turning the love you bore her, into care of her children, to which I know you by nature so well inclined, that I need not to instruct, but only remember you: but since wise men in sudden accidents and in cases concerning themselves are sometimes to seek, I am bold to advice you now, though henceforth I would be glad to be advised by you: resting Your servant, I. M. Arthingworth. july 7. 1629. A comfortable Letter upon the loss of a Husband. Madam: THough none knows the value of your loss, nor feels the want so deeply as yourself. yet I may take upon me more feeling than another man, being for the love I bear you more sensible of your misfortune and affliction: I myself have contributed many tears, and I confess there is great allowance of grief for good wives for the fatal departures of worthy husbands, but you were better forget the dead then the living, (your daughters I mean) to whom (I am opinionated) you would not wish so sad an increase as your death would bring them, which by this 〈◊〉 c●●●se of ●●●cating sorrow is too much hastened. O let not your virtue of patience die before you, but so magnanimously behave yourself in your troubles, that your acquaintance may find more cause to commend you, then to advice you. Madam I beseech you hold me to be Your Honour's friend W. M. Arthingworth March 11, 1629. A Letter of grief for his friend's absence. OF such comfortable use is the familiarity of a sweet companion, that those hours of our life seem most happy which are passed away in the society of a friend: If we take a journey his company is in stead of a Coach; there's not a thought, nor a word, of the tediousness of the way: If we abide at home, we imagine that the of Time too speedily swéepes away the hours. But on the contrary, needs must his life been melancholic that hath no friend to sweeten the slow transcursion of Time. I wish my own experience were not too true proof hereof, for since your absence, sweetest friend, melancholy hath been my concomitant, and your remembrance my greatest comfort. And as the Turtle pines away after the loss of his mate, so since your departure my bosom hath admitted no consolation. I request you by that interest which I have in your love, since in person I cannot, that I may see you in a Letter. Silence between absent friends incurs the censure of an inofficious and incivill disposition. But I know you will vindicate yourself from a stain of so abhorent a nature. I rest Yours unremovably, I. C. Frandon. Aug. 1628. A Letter for the entreaty of good will to a young Gentlewoman. THe long and considerate regard by which in deep contemplation I have eyed your most rare and singular virtues, joined with so admirable beauty, and much pleasing condition, graffed in your person, hath moved me, good mistress E. B. among a number whom I know entirely to favour you, earnestly to love you and therewith to offer myself unto you. Now howbeit I may happily seem in some eyes, the least in worthiness of a number that daily frequent you, yet may you vouchsafe in your own private to reckon me with the greatest in willingness. Wherein, if a settled and immoveable affection towards you if fervent and assured love, grounded upon the undecaiable stay and prop of your virtues, if continual, nay rather inexterminable vows, in all perpetuity addicted unto your services, if never ceasing and tormenting grief uncertainly carried by a hazardous expectation, closed in the circle of your gracious conceit, whether to bring unto the ears of my soul a sweet murmur of life, or severe sentence of a present death, may aught at all prevail, either to move, entreat, sue, solicit, or persuade you, I then am the man, who shrining in my inward thoughts the dignity of so worthy a creature, and prising in deepest weight (though not to the uttermost value) the estimate of so incomparable a beauty, have resolved living to honour you, and dying never to serve other but you, from whose delicate looks expecting no worse acceptance, then may seem answerable to so divine an excellency: I remain Your most passionate, loyal, and perpetually devoted, R. F. january 20. 1629. Her Answer. THat men have skill, and are by sundry commendable parts enabled to set forth their meaning, there needeth no other testimony than your present writing, your eloquence is far beyond the reach of my poor wit, and the multiplicity of your praises fit for a poetical goddess, then to the erection of any such deesse. For my part, I shall hold them as the fancies and toys of men, issuing from the weakest of their humours, and how fare myself can deserve, none better than myself can conceive. Being one of so good sort, as you are, I could do no less then write again unto you, the rather to satisfy the importunity of your messenger, wishing such a one to your lot as might paragonnize those excellencies you writ of, and answer every way to the substance of all those inestimable praises. So having your love and your writing, (as I take it) be best suited together. Yours as fare as modesty will, to answer your courtesies. E. B. ●●nuary 24. 1629. Another Letter to his Mistress, desiring her love. GOod mistress I. P. I am bold, though a stranger, to make these lines messengers at this present of my good meaning towards you, wherein I go not about by pretence of a most entire and hearty good will, which I profess to bear you, to make present surmise thereupon that on so bare an assertion you should immediately credit me, I prize your worthiness at a far greater value, and weigh your good allowance so much, as I only desire by your favourable liking I may entreat to have access unto you, not doubting but by being in your presence, I shall so sufficiently by apparent proof maintain the efficacy of that I now protest, and give so good occasion, to deem well of me, as you shall have no reason to repent you, that upon so honest and loving a request you have condescended to my entreaty: whose health and prosperity tendering as mine own. I send you with my Letter a token of that great affection I bear you, which I pray you most heartily to accept of, and wear for me. And ever so do continue, Yours if so you please to accept of me. R. M. Her answer. SIr, your message is to me as strange as yourself, who are unto me as stranger, and what your good meaning unto me is, I know not: for giving of credit unto your assertion, as you seem not to challenge it, so was I never hitherto of myself so hasty to do it, having oftentimes been taught, that of fairest speeches ensueth the foulest actions: I cannot condemn your purpose, because I intent the best of your dealings, and howbeit I am in no point so restrained, but that in all reasonable sort that may be, any access may be granted, so when you shall by farther notice sufficiently make apparent that with modesty I may do it, I shall be willing so fare forth as my years and present being may minister occasion, in any thankful requital that may be to yield myself unto you. Till which time I return your token again, and my hearty thankes unto you by this bearer. Your friend as one unacquainted hitherto may be. I. P. To a beauteous Lady upon a long affection. HOw impossible it is to keep heat from fire, being that very nature of the element, I refer to your best judgement, and how near a spirit of that nature, is the love of the heart kindled by the eye of beauty, I leave to your kindness to consider: since then such is the force of true love, as cannot be so smothered up in silence, but that it must burst out into words and actions, either to gain comfort, or to suffer death, pardon (fairest of beauties) that Patient that in anguish seeks ease and deny not your help in the excellency of the cure: your beauty hath moved me, your excellent teature your comely gesture, your sweet behaviour, have all concurred to make me unhappy, unless your hand help me, and though the hurt be more felt then seen, yet is it not deadly, if you be kind: loathe I am to be a beggar without desert, and yet love will stoop a high spirit, which, by the bond of due honour hath sworn me your true servant: in which Title, under heaven, shall be my hearts greatest honour: and in the honour of whose favour, shall be the height of my world's happiness: in hope whereof, praying to the highest Power in the heavens to bless you with all felicity on earth, I rest Your devoted, and not to be removed P. E. Her Answer. SIr, how easy it is to quench a fire in his first kindling, experience can deliver; in the diversity of hearts love being not the least that is like to do much hurt, I wish you to take order with your wits, lest it bring your brain to an ill comfort. And therefore in placing of affection, be not too far from discretion, lest the persuasion of self will, be an abuse of a better sense. If I had skill in Physic, I would prescribe you help for your disease, but being a simple woman, you must have patience with my plainness, who not knowing how to do you good, and unwilling to wish you hurt, leaving you to a better Paradise then in the torment of an idle passion, I rest in what I may, Yours as kindly as I find cause. A. N. To a judicious Gentlewoman. Dear friend: THe forcible effect & conquest which your beauty hath wrought in my heart constrained me in your kindness to place the hope of my fortune: beseeching you so to equal your outward excellence with an inward perfection, that faith may not have fear of favour, where humility shall guide the course of affection: I should esteem myself the most unhappy if I should give your ears any distaste by my suit but if it light within the line of your liking, it shall begin the garden of my paradise: so under heaven seeking no other star, than the guide of your grace to lead my heart to the joy of my life: I rest, never to rest till I ever rest Yours all, or mine own nothing at all. E. C. From Madrid. March 26. Her Answer. I Am sorry to think that a shadow of dust should have that force (in conceit) to rob reason of his contents: for beauty is but a shadow, which if your eye hath found in my face, let it go no further lest it do wrong to my will in hurting your heart: my inside I hope is fare from disgracing any good in my outside, and both altogether unhappy, if they have been any occasion of evil: but lest I may seem discontent either at the matter or manner of your writing, I discharge you of the burden of that fear, by the kind acceptation of your affection, which though I cannot answer as I would, yet, as in good reason I may, I will think and consider of, which if it fall out to your liking, be not unfaithful in your love, in hope whereof I rest, Yours wholly, if at all. A.B. To a Lady, with whom he fell in love seeing her at a solemn Triumph. When I saw you (excellent Lady) viewing the Triumphs, looking upon your eyes me thought Heaven opened to discover a greater glory, and Angels tylting there taken from my judgement all things else done out of that blessed compass, but mine amazement became my death, and my death must be your Triumph, for how ever the conflict appeared, your glances which were the wounding weapons, struck through my weak sight, and slew my heart, though armed in the strongest sort of my bosom; I am not so happy as to been a prisoner (for there were hope) but so infortunate to die in despair, that to have the monument of my remembrance erected in the Temple of your pity, is the utmost aim my bliss looks to, the cruelty of fair ones hath pronounced my judgement, and saith, it is impossible to affect where they have not seen? Oh see me in this sorrowful paper, (you fairest of adored beauties) and let that sight move affection, affection knowledge, knowledge pity, and pity that work of the highest, which is only to do miracles, so shall cruelty give himself the lie, prove you a goddess, and make me (the happiest of men) a trumpet of your renown and glory: My love is like your goodness without parallel, my faith shall go beyond that love, and my service crown both with an infinite merit. This is my sacrifice, which if you accept, (excellentest of fair beauties, and ennobled with all rich perfections) I live, if otherwise, my joy is, I perish by so excellent a creature. Prepared to suffer. I. S. From Dover june 9 1628. Her answer. SIr, he that of a light blow with the eye, makes a deadly wound at his heart, is either too unworthily faint, or much too superstitious in the signs and planets; for mine own part, my knowledge assures me I am free from any such malignant influence: I confess a weak appetite unguarded with judgement, nay oft stumble and receive knocks: nay sometimes fall to utter ruin; and to give to that weakness the government of my fortune, were to rob myself of all good men's pities. In my worst mischances, the ills I cause not, reason cannot blame me, if I cure not, since what is without me, nothing appertains unto me, but you will make my beauty guilty, poor nothing, how pitifully art thou slandered; which being a mere Chimaera of imagination, hast not any thing in th●●, but the strength of folly, and man's fancy; it is not a substance, for than it might be felt, let lose or restrained; it hath no certain shape, for then all men would like one figure; nor hath it any abiding, for than it would ever be found in its own mansion; it is not compounded of perfect colours for then no man would dote of mixed deformities, nor doth it subsist of real virtues, for then no man would wed with the vicious: to conclude, it is nothing hath hurt you, and that nothing I send to cure you: rashness shall not breed my repentance: your love is too infinite, your faith too worthy, and your service too rich; a meaner proportion will guard safest a mean fortune; and so wishing your great sacrifice to a greater deity, I rest, Your best Counsellor. A. N. Canterbury. To his Mistress that was of wanton and light carriage. BEcause my vow of love (my sometimes dearly beloved mistress) hath made me your friend, therefore the care of your honour shall make me your counsellor; whether it come seasonably or no, examine your heart, that it comes freely and with a wholesome intent, truth been my witness. It is told me (mistress) that your actions are publicly noted: for their contumelious levity, and your wanton lightness is so marked by your beholders, that contempt is become your only companion your apparel is like your mind unconstant and uncomely, and draws rather admiration then reverence toys are your studies, and vanities your practice, so that making yourself a slave to pleasure, you have forgotten the violence of misfortune, if this he true (my dearly beloved mistress) then in this I must perish, since living in you, your least fall wounds both me and mine honour: I know you are fair and young: but if you cloth them here with vices, what will you wear in the grave, but infamy? life runs without feet, misfortune strikes without an alarm, and the glory of vanity breaks like a bubble, and leaves nothing behind but the print of disgraces: it is too much to be evil once, for the evil is never forgotten, and it is too little not to be ever good, since the smallest blot dashes all out of remembrance. I would I could as easily excuse you, as fame is apt to accuse you: pardon me if I be too hold in writing, it is urged by a too much boldness in action the one made good, the other shall be gracious beyond expression; till then give my pen leave to keep my heart from breaking. Your grieved friend, A. Z. Farndon. Apr. 1628. Her Answer. A Zeal that is kindled (my best servant) with the false fire of men's reports, is rather held a superstition then an honest devotion; for it both wrongs truth, and wounds an innocent reputation; and those light believers, which build faith on such weak grounds, deserve nothing but ignominy and contempt: if now you accuse my life in your absence, where was your judgement when I walked in your presence? O be not so false to the worth of your own truth, to say you could not see that which all the world hath discovered, or if you did, to be so blind to affect a thing unworthy, but it may be, absence hath begotten new thoughts, those thoughts new affection, and that affection must needs find a new quarrel with old friendship: if it be so, your own course lead you. I freely confess I am not such a beggar that can wear rags, such a miser that can eat roots, nor so subtle to speak like a juggler, with a reed in my mouth: Truth I serve, freedom I love, and plainness is my condition. If these have tastes you cannot relish, you must in some other soil seek new comforts, for mine own part I will be no bondslave to opinion, till I know it constant, nor no servant of the time, till it be uncorrupt, and more honest. As for my life, had it for every feather a wing, and my fortune double so many hazards, yet will I bring the one to my grave with honour, and make the other ashamed with my sufferance. I rest, Your injured mistress. D. P. Maidston. May. 7. A desperate Lover to his quondam Mistress. IT shall be virtue in you (fairest) to receive my despairs though you 〈◊〉 no comforts, and if in the reading you vouchsafe a sigh to my remembrance, it is a dirge that shall make me for ever sleep in quiet: despair long since gave me judgement, and obedience only shall make my death patiented: ●t is necessary I die for you, since fate denies me to live with you, for myself is such an interposition betwixt you and your glory, that my griefs would keep much of your Sun eclipsed: I know my wants, and that there is nothing either in my life or fortune to deserve you, only an infinite desire, which but by death can never be lessened, then since all things suit with my despairs, be all delays with your love (ever fare from me) and let the world only remember this in my Epitaph, that it was not my folly, but your will; not my despair, but truth in obedience: But O this is that I should do, not speak: and the music is more unfit for your ear, than your love for my heart: pardon my tell-tale sorrow, it rather speaks things fit to been done, then done, and will sooner crave the glory in wish then action, and yet the poison of disdain is so violent, I know it will waste me, and waste me it shall, for my comforts are already consumed, and in that consumption let all things but my memory turn to its first Chaos, and so live as happy as I unfortunate: Only in remembrance. F. L. Northampton. Septemb. 6. Her Answer. HOw much I stand divided with the unresonablenesse of your affection, my distracted writing may witness; wherein I can observe no order, because nothing in your desires holds good proportion, you bid me love, and will not hear when destiny denies it, and you seek that rule from me, which is quite taken out of my knowledge (dear Sir) awaken up your first wisdom, and tie your actions on providence, then shall you see I have less power to draw on mine, than you to withdraw your affection: will you make beauty such a slave, that it must obey every gaze, or the poor owner so unfortunate, that she must be servile to the desire of any wilful longing, then so, how much safer were it to be foul and fortunate? But you will dye, woes me that folly should make you so impudent, to boast you dare do a sin so damnable; but I know you will dye but as actors die, in one scene and revive in the next, to make it more glorious, thus to dye I allow you, and to such I will give a smile for pity: to any other a charitable tear, to think that any Gentleman should become a traitor to Nature. Lastly, let me win you by the love you boast of, never henceforth to solicit me, for as no relief can come from such vain labour, so nothing but great disdain will grow from my vexation: So hoping you will make that hope desperate, which is without all hope of virtue, I rest, Your chaste friend. P. C. Rowel March 7. A Letter of true kindness. IF dame Nature had been pleased to have made my bosom transparent, your eyes should see the secrets of my heart, which if it have any happiness in the world, it is in the hope of your favour: but amazed with the admiration of your worth, I know not what to say of your worthiness, but only this, that finding the due of your desert exceeding my capacity in commendation, I will leave the excellency thereof to more honourable invention, and think Fortune enough favourable, if she prefer my service to your commandment: presents I have none worthy the sending, but the heart of my love at your employment which being nothing more than what you will, I rest, ever one and the same. Your servant. W. W. Her Answer. IF your speeches be led by your thoughts, it is needless to desire a transparency in your bosom, for when as the heart and the tongue agree together, than men's protestations are followed with real performance: words of admiration trouble discretion, in construction, and eloquence in love hath not the best commendation, inventions are ready where fancy is studious, but where wit is virtuous, there is will gracious: your present most worthy of all acceptance, cannot be better requited then thankfully remembered, and if conceits meet in a mutual content, what comfort may follow, I leave to the heaven's favour, and so I rest, Your friend. A. W. A Letter of counsel from a discreet mother to her daughter newly married. MY good daughter: thou art now going into the world, and must leave to be a child, and learn to be a mother, and look to a family, rather than to the entertainment of a friend, and yet both necessary, in their kinds: find the disposition of thy husband, and in any wise move not his impatiency, let thy kindness bind his love, thy virtue his comfort, thy huswiferie his commendations: avoid tattling gossips, yet be kind to thy neighbours, and no stranger to thy kindred: be gentle to thy servants and not over familiar: have an eye to thy door, and a lock to thy chest: keep a bit for beggar, and a bone for a dog: cherish the Been that brings home honey, and make much of the Cock that makes much of his Chickens, take heed abroad of the Kite and within of the Rat: pray to God for his blessings on all thy proceed, and have a religious care of thy modest government; and rather for charity then praise, give relief unto the poor; if at any time thou hast need of any good I can do thee, be assured whilst thou hast a mother, thou hast a friend: so hoping in thy kindness, thou wilt take care of thy counsel, beseeching God to bless thee, that I may ever have joy of thee, with my heart's love, to his tuition I leave thee. Thy most loving mother. R. S. Her Answer. MY good Mother: I have passed the years of a child, and know the care of a mother, and therefore for your kind advice for my carriage I thank you, and what benefit I will make of your lessons, you shall find in the fruit of my observation, I am but newly come into the world, and God knows when I shall go out of it; and am yet scarce warm in my house, and therefore hardly know yet how to go through it. For me husband's humour, if he altar not his nature, I do not doubt but we shall live as Doves, while care and kindness shall continue content: my servants shall find me both a mistress and a friend; my neighbours no strangers, and idle gossips no companion. Thus in the duty of love, with thankes for your motherly care, in prayer to the Almighty to bless me with his grace, and to live no longer then in his love and yours: I take my leave, for this time, but rest during life, Your most loving daughter, P. E. A Letter in case of wrong supposed to be committed. SIr, your Letter is more troublesome to my conceit then savouring (as I am credibly led to think) of that your wont most noble disposition unto me I have received. With what supportation and unaccustomed grief I have retained them, I refer to any one (guiltless accused and suspended from so high savours, as formerly by your bounty to me have been performed) simply to be conjectured. Long was it ere I could satisfy myself by any access that might be, to proffer myself or these humbled Letters unto you, yet nevertheless weighing how fare different those new occurrents were from those your ancient favours, I surmised with myself that the instigation proceeded solely from others, hardly perchance bearing those graces wherein I stood with you, and becoming thereupon my bitter enemies, the sinister devise whereof stood upon me wholly to overthrow or impugn. For which having no other nor better means at this time then these submissive lines, I purpose them unto you as solicitors of your former liking, confessing if in any ways I have erred unto you, as I will not utterly seclude myself from every error, it was but as a young man rather by ignorance then of malice any way to be intended: as touching any other objection, let me but crave pardon to have access unto your presence, and then judge as you find me: two ways are only left, my accusers to my face, or mine own simplicity to clear me. This is all I require, and so much I hope you will not deny me: wherewith resting in due acknowledgement of that your former bounty, I humbly surcease, this 15 of Decemb. 1628. Yours to command. T. C. A Letter from a Servant to his Master. SIr, my humble duty remembered, unto you, and to my good mistress. You may please to understand that I have dispatched the business unto Master C. for the money you sent me for, and have given him an acquittance for the same, and according to your good remembrance unto 〈◊〉, I have bought for you twelve gallons of the best Sack, and eighteen gallons of Claret, and fifteen yards of fine Broad cloth, and thirty else of fine Holland all which I hope by God's grace shall come unto your hands: I have sent you also here enclosed your Bill of parcels, and their several prices. I wrote formerly unto you for certain commodities out of the Country, which I have now received by the Carrier. Here is at this present small news worth the writing unto you: wherefore praying unto all Almighty God for the health and prosperity of you and all yours, I humbly take my leave, and rest, Your faithful and ready servant to command, I.P. An answer of a Letter for courtesy and favour received. MY good friend M. G. how much I am bound unto you for multitude of favours, and especially for that you have made choice of me, as to write your kind and friendly Letters in my befalse, I can no other ways express, then to continue your affectionate poor friend, and will for ever acknowledge it, as of your great kindness beyond any merit of mine own, and as by duty I am bound, no day shall pass me that I will not pray to God for your health and prosperity, and the redoubling of your days: beseeching you to excuse me in that in person I cannot do or perform what I desire, by reason at this time some haste extraordinary will not permit me. I therefore most humbly take my leave of you, this 14. May. Your affectionate poor friend, P. C. The Father's Letter against the Son. THe sight of your Letters and message received by your servant, have (good Cousin) bred to me in perusing and harkening unto the same no small matter of disquiet: not that your letters or messages for themselves are or have been at any time ill welcome to my hands, but in respect of him for whom they come, so filled have I been long since with the evils by him committed. I am nothing ignorant that of mere love and good will you framed your speech unto me in the behalf of my ungracious Son. I need not repeat here unto you with what fatherly care I have brought him up to man's estate how likewise I sought both with maintenace and place of credit to continue him as a Gentleman. I placed him with a right godly and worshipful Knight Sir T. H. who for my sake loved him, and I know taken pains to reform him. Complaints were infinite against him. This man could not be quiet for him, that man's servants he misused: this party he deceived, and others highly wronged. Since which, too much to be revealed how stubbornly in mine own house, how injuriously amongst mine own people hath he behaved himself. And because it was against Christmas, and I would not dismiss him unfurnished, I gave him for himself and his man a couple of good Geldings, and twenty pound in his purse: he was no sooner gone twenty miles, but spent his money at Cards and Dice, pawned his apparel, sold his Geldings, and in the end coming to one of my tenants to borrow money which he denied to lend him, he fell upon him and beat him. Thus (loving Cousin) you see in part his ill led life, and may thereby conceive my grief. Sending in the mean time my commendations and earnest thanks for your care of my well being, to you and your bedfellow. This 20 Aug. 1628. T. R. The answer. I Have received your letter (my kind uncle) in answer to the last letter I sent, which was the business of your son. I am very sorry that a Gentleman of your gravity and knowledge in the world, and for the good estimation that the country hath of you, that Master F. C. your son should deal so unkindly with you. I know your fatherly care of him from time to time, and how diligent, and not sparing any cost in bringing him up; and to place him with a gentleman of the best rank in all the country was nobly done, yet with all you might (if so you please) do well to consider he is your own son, and if you look into your own youth, you shall find these were your youthful strains, and so much the more to be borne withal, and time and age will tame all these things in an ingenious and witty Gentleman. I desire you for my sake retain him kindly into your favour this once more, for he hath (upon the reputation of a Gentleman) promised never to do the like enormities, but to live as a most dutiful and loving son: and for the same I dare pass my credit. I pray you entertain him respectively, and I will ever remain, Your loving kinsman, T. F. To his mistress (quondam) having spent all his means upon her in prosperity, he being imprisoned she forsakes him. IF my paper were made of the skins of croaking Toads, or speckled Adders, my ink of the blood of Scorpions, my pen plucked from the Screech-owl's wings, they were but fit instruments to write unto thee, that art more venomous, more poisonous, more ominous, than the worst of these: for do but descend into the depth of thy guilty conscience, and see how many vows, promises, and deep protestations, nay millions of oaths hast thou sworn thy fidelity unto me, which one day will witness against thee. If I should speak with the voice of Mandrakes, or as loud as the noise of the Summer's thunder, yet could I not proclaim unto the world thy infinite basenesses; I being so firm and constant unto thee when I swom in the golden floods of prosperity, than wast thou (as often thou didst protest) firm and constant unto me. But when the water began to ebb, and my ship run on ground, than (like thyself) thou forsookest me At first thy love was as hot to me as an Italian to a wench of fifteen, but when my gold was spent and consumed, than thy love grew as cold to me as a Fishmonger's fingers are in a great frost. Do not think I writ this unto thee to been a means to help me in this my great distress and imprisonment: for know thou though all my friends have forsaken me, nay though death, grief, affliction, and all the miseries that possibly can befall a miserable man in this wretched world while he liveth here, and all these griefs do every minute torment me, yet I had rather fall by their force, then rise by thy assistance, so hateful, grievous, so loathsome, so tedious and so incomparably abominable is thy very name unto me. Leprosy compared to thee, is all health, and all manner of infection but a flea-biting, and all manner of diseases, though they were fetched from twenty Hospitals, were but like the fit of an Ague: for thou art all Leprosy, all diseases, for neither thy body nor thy soul are free, thy body from the disease of shame and disgrace of the world, nor thy soul free from the sickness of sin. God amend and pardon thee. Once thy friend. I. P. To his friend lying long sick. MY worthy friend Master Prince: though the distance of place be such, that we cannot hear one another, you in the centre of the Kingdom (London) I at York, yet you shall see me in my Letter, my tongue, my pen, my heart, are all your servants. You plainly perceive a long lingering sickness will draw you to a long desired rest, where long your mind hath had his residence. You now perceive Fame is but smoke, metals but dross, pleasure but a pill with sugar. All these earthly delights if they were sound, how short they are, fleeting every day: they are but as a good day betwixt two Agues, or like Sodoms' Apples, fair red outsides, being handled are black dust. I admire the faith of Moses, but presupposing his faith, I wonder not at his choice, that he preferred the afflictions of Israel to the pleasures of Egypt, and chose rather to eat the Lamb with sour herbs, than all their fleshpots. That God hath given you a virtuous wife, dutiful children, wealth in abundance, an honest esteem and good repute amongst your neighbours, and the general love of your country where you live, are favours that look for thanks. Who would desire to live, that knows his Saviour died, who can be a Christian and would not be like him? Can you be happy and not die? indeed Nature knows not what she would have. Our friends of this world can neither abide us miserable in our stay, nor happy in our departure. What God hath given you on earth, is nothing to that he will give you in heaven: you are a stranger here: there at home. There Saints and Angles shall applaud you, there God himself will fill you with himself: have patience in all afflictions, and read the troubles of job, and in that exercise yourself both day and night, until God shall either mend or end these your days on earth. To which great God and merciful Lord I commit you, praying for your eternal rest. Remaining your friend; I. M. A Letter wherein is recommended to a Nobleman from his inferior the conditions and behaviour of a person. MAy it please your Lordship, this Gentleman the bearer hereof, with whom along time I have been acquainted, and of his qualities and good behaviour have sound and large experiment, having been a good time a suitor unto me to move this preferment unto your Lordship's service, I have now at last condescended unto, as well for that I know your Lordship to be now presently disfurnished of such a one, as also that there will hardly be preferred upon the sudden any one so meet as himself to supply that place. And thus much by your pardon and allowance day I assure unto you, that if it may please you in credit of my simple knowledge and opinion to employ him, you shall find that, beside he is in parentage descended from such of whom I know your Lordship will very well account of, he is also learned, decréet, sober, wise, and moderate in all his actions, of great secrecy, assured trust, and well governed in all companies. Finally, a man so meet and to this present turn so apt and necessary, as I cannot easily imagine how you may be served better. Pleaseth your Lordship the rather, for the great good will I bear him, and humble duty I own unto you, to accept, employ, and account of him: I nothing doubt but your Lordship having by such means given credit to my choice, shall find him such as for whose good service you shall have further occasion to think well of me for him. Whereof nothing doubtting, I do refer both him and myself, in all humbleness to your best and most favourable opinion. From my house in Arthingworth, this 5 of june. The Answer. AFter my hearty commendations unto you. Since the receipt of your last letters and commendations of W. R. into my service, I have had small occasion either to write or to send unto you till this present; and for as much as upon your certain notice delivered unto me in favour of his preferment, I held myself so well assured in all things of his behaviour, as I doubted not thereupon to receive him into place of greatest fidelity; I have thought good hereby to let you understand, what great pleasure I have taken in his diligent attendance, assuring you, for many unexpected qualities, which I have proved to be in him, and that with so good affection as that I intent not omit any thing that may tend to his advancement. In beholding of him oftentimes, methinks he many ways doth resemble his father, whose sound truth I do suppose might have been entertained with the best for his well deserving: this bearer shall inform you of two special causes concerning my affairs in the country, whom I do pray you to confer with, and to afford him your travel for his present dispatch, which I will not fail: hearty to require unto you. For your care had of my wants, and diligent supply of such a one, I do many times thank you, and have promised in myself to become a debtor unto you. And even so I bid you hearty farewell. From the Court this 5. of May, 1628. A merry Letter to his friend in London. Heroical spirit: I Have received your Epistle of alacrity and remain much indebted to your kind heart for vouchsafing us poor country Swains so much of the labour of your pen to deceive slow-footed time withal: Thanks unto the Almighty, I have had my health indifferent well since my coming down only the separation of my second self hath been a continual sickness unto me: to remedy which I have hitherto found out no better way then to call for a cup of Rubicular, to help to exhilerate and corroborate my fatigated spirits. We Ruricolars are very barren of any novelty worthy the presenting to your curious understanding, but do presume out of the bundle of your affection that you that live at the well's head will be pleased to vouchsafe us your poor friends a report by your Letters, at least of such Exchange news as passeth currant amongst you, which we shall take as a special favour from you and study how to remunerate We are at this present putting foot into the stirrup, and riding some dozen horse of us to a maritine coast, where there will be provided for us all the rarities for fish the Sea can afford, where I will not be unmindful to remember all your healths in a full ocean. In the mean time commending my love to my loving sister your wife, with your worthy self and all our friends, I wish you all true happiness suitable to a brave disposition, and will ever rest, Your assured l●uing Brother. R. S. A Letter gratulatory. Good Mr. P. I Am yet to learn the phrase and method how to write to so beneficent a friend as yourself, to whom I stand obliged more by desert than I can answer with requital, and more in affection than I am able to merit: a predicament it is into which I am easily and often (as it were) precipitated, and out of which to raise myself fortune only hath disabled me, who if with her gifts she had supplied my wants, and given me competent wealth to the freedom of my will my honest heart should not be debtor to the hand of any, nor should my disability curb the scope of my affection: but seeing wishes are but vain, I pray you accept these my lines as tokens of the remuneration of my thanks and the acknowledgement of the love of Your humble servant. D. P. A Letter to his silent friend. YOu are happily innocent (dearest friend) what pain I am in, and with what unrest I spend my irksome days, through your parcimoniousnesse, and sparing of a little ink and paper: Is it not enough that I am deprived of your sight, but I must be also unsaluted by your Letters, one of them alone doth too waightily oppress me with sorrow, and overwhelm my heart with disquietness. As place hath wrought a separation between our bodies, will your permit also that a few day's absence shall bury each others remembrance in the Lethean waves of oblivion; oh be not so injurious unto sacred friendship, which is the greatest joy allotted unto mortal men in all the universe: I have got the start of you in writing, but I hope I shall not need to send you any more expostulatory Letter for your slackness in this kind. For the sound state of my body I am well, yet I cannot be said to be perfectly well, being (as I am) so solicitous for your welfare, and so ignorant of your health, who are animae dimidium meae. Farewell. Animae dimidium tuae. L. M. The Answer, excusing his not writing. LEt the multitude of my businesses and my want of bodily health, and debility, plead my excuse with you for my remissness in writing. The drift of these present lines is to apologise for that I writ to you no sooner, and to inquire of your health and welfare. Compare not, nor do not think my love as little as my writing, for I protest unfeignedly, that if I may stead you in any kind, or if my means can procure any thing to make a clearer manifestation of my manifold love you shall assuredly find whensoever any occasion shall offer itself to you, to make trial what great interest you have in me and my best affection, I cease, ever resting Yours 〈◊〉 my power. W. W. A Letter expostulatory for breach of promise. IT had been more honesty in you to have given me a speedy denial, than not to perform what you so constantly promised me, for than you had not injured me, because you had not owed me any thing. Promise is debt: for I yet hope you are none of the number of those men who think promises do not bind them unto performance: this is my belief of you yet, it is in your power to make me hold or alter my opinion. I only desire thus much of you, if you will not do me that good turn, yet leau●e doing me injury: feed me not with improficient words, but bid me not trust any longer to vain hopes. In brief, you shall much oblige me by doing that kindness, by omission thereof you shall make me muse at the lack of your fidelity, and at your carelessness to incur the report and infamy of a dishonest man. Your injured friend. H. G. To his friend fall'n to poverty. IF your weath had been the foundation of my love, I should now cease to love, because you are no longer rich, but should I now so err, I should show myself to have been unto you in your prosperity not a friend, but (like unto the rest that have derelinquished you in your poverty) a mere flatterer: we see how during the Summer time the Swallows flock to our houses, we may observe how Mice will be sure to get into the barn that is replenished with corn and while the pot hath any honey it is hard keeping the flies away: but rare is the friendship which fleets not in the probation time of adversity. Besides that poor comfort of adversity, pity, I lend you the sum of twenty pound, which so long make use of till Time, the mother of of mutations, increase your store with a proportion able to make repayment to Your friend to his ability. I. R. A Letter of a Gentlewoman to a Gentleman with whom she fell in love. IF ever I could wish myself unborn (most worthy sir) or my well being taken from me, I call truth and my sometimes modesty to witness, it is now: not that I have found you, but that I am forced thus to seek you. Call to mind (fair, and I hope virtuous Sir) some horrid and violent women, taken with the love of their own fathers, as was Micah; or incestuously pursuing their nearest brother, as was Biblis: so my affection will appear more modest, and my suit more pardonable: I dear love you, (and in so saying me thinks the gods blush to hear me,) who in the strictest laws of desire are most worthy to be loved, whose virtues might inflame a Nun, and excellentest qualities take the most retired: If I have (as I know too well I have) contrary to the nature and custom of Virgins, our-shot myself in my violent passions, pardon her that had rather die then make it known, yet chooseth rather to make it known, than not enjoy you so desired, and fare more worthy to be desired. If you were acquainted what afflictions I suffer in my discovery, yet fearing all well not serve, you will, I hope, rather incline to pity, than disdain: little will the death of a silly maiden avail the triumph of your beauty, and the overthrow of my credit less benefit your virtue. Raise me from the one by your love, & assure me from the other by your secrecy: whilst I will ever remain a most constant votaress to all your perfections, blessing the parents that left behind them such an issue. Never less her own. R. D. Althorp. May 22. His Answer. HOw happy may I account myself (sweetest of creatures, and beautifillest of women) that having bound myself in the search and pursuit of a jewel, have it now offered and given into my hands, fare above my expectation; fare transcending my hopes; I accept it as lovingly, as you freely bestow it, and will account it no less dear and pertious, then if much time and long labour had been the purchase of it, esteeming it a blessing thrown upon me, by the appointment of the highest, and suitable to my happy desires. Nor shall I need to load my memory with those horrid examples, to give your love a freer and welcomer passage into the very depth of my love and choicest desires: to love we were made, and by love we are made: they only are without being that have not the heavenly taste and enjoying of it, I only deny those excellencies which you lay to my unguilty charge, it was the reflection of your own worth (strucken from me) which hath Narcissus like so enamoured you, it was your own image shown in my eyes, which hath thus captivated you: which since you like in so dim and dull a mirror, I will cherish, and make much of it only for your sake, that you may the perfect liar see yourself, and the more love me: for your love, take all I am; for my secrecy, I will not breathe it to myself how I attain this happiness, but living and dying, rest the true honourer and admirer of your worth and virtue, Yours more than his own. H. H. A Letter from a Chapman in the Country to a Tradesman in London. MY loving and kind friend M. G. you have done me much wrong in detaining the wares I writ for: I have disappointed some Gentlemen in relying upon you, whose custom hath much advantaged me: my credit I hope will ever be above that value: and my dealing for much more yearly between us might without other circumstances therein have satisfied you: I must tell you plain, in the country there are many good men, whose estates are known very sufficient, which cannot raise money upon their credit in an instant: we want a common bank with us which might furnish us suddenly and thoroughly: Brokers trade not here, nor Usurers take their place, but in Summer for their recreation: think, friend, me an honest man, and so you have much cause to think: confident in which, though my estate were brittle, (as I thank God) I know it is sure: you may be armed, I will never fail nor deceive you. I rove not beyond my compass, neither make a sure foundation out of other men's ruins, but content with a little leaving a blessing to my children, and a good memory amongst my neighbours. Let me hear from you concerning the cause of this breach, and a note of the reckoning between us, which I will make even, and rather rest honest then rich. Septemb. 6, Your true friend as you shall use me, L. M. The Answer. MAster M. truly it much grieves me you were so disappointed, and the negligence of my man went not away unpunished, by whose default the Carrier went without them: believe me on my word, and I account myself happier in being a master of that, then in much riches, no fear of payment, nor least doubt of your estate was any hindrance to it: I have well known you by others, and have had so much experience of you myself, that you shall sooner want occasion for wares, than I confidence to trust you: your neighbours speak much good of you, and all men that know you give you a fair report, which makes me happy both in your custom and friendship. If sinister occasions shall any time happen (as while we are here they are incident unto us) I shall rather pity your fortunes then call in question your fair dealings. And know we are all men accountable every instant for all our possessions. The Cartier this week brings those commodities, and better and more vendable you never had of me; and I verily believe the Gentleman will think themselves happily repaid in the stay with the exceeding goodness and lastingness of the ways. For your reckonings at more leisure I will peruse and send them, in whose place receive my kind commendations, and entreaty for my man's carelessness, I bid you most hearty farewell. Your friend as you know. I. G. A Letter of thankfulness for kindness shown to his Son. SIr, the favours you have already done me are of such effect and merit, that I shall never be at quiet until I have made some requital of them I am ashamed you should be thus continually troubled with a son of mine, whom I have charged to obey you in all things as myself, and I pray you do so much as have a careful hand over him, as if you were his father, or he your only child: I kindly and hearty th●nke you for the apparel you have made him l●●ely which is decent, comely, and profitable, and the money you ●aue paid for him: you may accommodate him with the rest if you think it fitting: for my part I give you all power and authority over him, seeing you are pleased to take the trouble upon you. So wishing but to meet with some good occasion that may lie in my poor power, to acknowledge how much I am beholding unto you, I for this time commit you to the protection of the Almighty. Resting Your assured loving friend, D. B. The Answer. MAster B. I have received your Letter concerning your son. Sir, for any favour I can do you, either in this or any other, I shall be right willing, knowing how much from time to time I and mine are bounden unto you. And assure yourself it shall be no trouble unto me to use the best of my counsel and care over him. For his apparel, it will keep him warm, I know, which is the principal thing I aim at, and I hope pleasing to him and his friends. The other money I shall deliver him as I shall see good both for himself to use, and the credit of you his father. Moreover (Sir) he is to me very dutiful and loving, by which he shall lose nothing in my care of his welfare, and he very well spends his time at School, and to good purpose I hope; wherein I doubt not you shall have great comfort. He behoveth himself so well by his good demeanour to all, that he is generally beloved of all my neighbours. For my power and authority over him, I will employ myself only for his good, and your fatherly care committed to me. And so with a thousand commendations I commit you to God. Your friend, I.D. A Letter to his Mistress in the Country that desired news from the City. MOst excellent mistress, your command (which is to me a law) binds me to obey you, and though the task be infinite hard to contain so great a beast in so little paper yet for your satisfaction, I will delineate to life the proportion of some of his members. It is news you desire, & believe me (fair one) since I came into the City, I have not seen or heard any thing old; even from the Capitol, to the Cottage, all things are in their new garments, the Court hath new favourites, the City a new Senate, and the Commonwealth new officers: the first are as great as good, the second are as rich as wise, and the third as awful as just: Men are new, for where they should love they fear, women are new, for where they should honour they subdue, and children are new, for where they should reverence they astonish, Customs and manners are new, for the poor daily feed the rich, the rich cousin the great, and the great make fools of the good ones. The fashions though they were never old, are now newer than ever, for in man and woman there is not a point to choose betwixt the sexes, the one hath descended so much downward, and the other ascended so much upward, that met in one circle they are both now trussed up together without difference: Apparel that was made to cover, is now made to discover folly and lewdness, and they are finest that are nearest to the naked Anatomy: Discourse is new, for wise men talk of their wealth, learned men of their deceit, and great men of vanity, Old men like old Wolves boast of their preys past, middle age like Lion's talk of that which is in their powers, and children like dogs bark of the revenges which shall be: Our Citizens like Asses are proud of rich burdens, and like Apes, joy in pied trapping, and our gallants like Béere-brewers horses brag how much drink they can carry. To conclude, all things are so new, that even virtue herself is despised in old garments, and he that keepeth any phrase of his forefathers, is but a rude speaker, for to say Hic mulier, is now the purest and truest Latin. Thus (my dear Mistress) you have the newest News of the season, which I writ rather to keep you in your old way of virtue, then to lose yourself in the folly of imitation, I know your goodness, and how true a rewarder it is of its own merits, rely upon it ever, it will make your end happy, and my life fortunate, that am the servant of so great a perfection. T.W. Her Answer. YOu have sent me (worthy servant) my desire back with so great an interest, that I stand two ways fearful how to receive it, either to incur the suspicion of too greedy an inquiry, or the envy of a weak nature, that is pleased with detraction: from both which I am free, in as much as my aim is held within the level of modesty. I confess, the parts you have given me may belong to a beast, or rathers Monster, for the shape hath little proportion: yet I have heard of excellent Painters which have made curious pieces of perspective, that beheld with a liberal eye on the plain Table, hath appeared ugly and most deformed, but the sight straitened and drawn into a more severe and narrow compass it hath been beautiful, and in the glory of the best perfection: such, I fear, was the picture from whom you took your copy, and looking upon it the wrong way, you saw the lines, but not the beauty. I do confess, the world is old, yet not so old but it may continue to wear out many new garments. Age makes it subject to sickness and infirmity, and what better defence then warm and sound clothing? Sickness brings corruption, and ill savours, what better prevention than much shift and many new things? so that I conclude, these novelties which you dislike are but to cure something in the world that is unwholesome. Again, I have seen an Italian Comely, consisting of a lover, a woman, a zany or fool, and a devil; and to it I may fashion the world, for that the stage, the people the actors, each degree have their zany and their devil; Now if the zany will steal his master's apparel, and make between vice and virtue no difference, blame not the discretion of the master, if it device new fashions, till either the foolish zany be tired, or the devil for his pride fetch him away, and conclude the interlude. This (my best servant) you may apply at your pleasure, for mine innocence hath taught me that charity, not to accuse any of that crime I would not myself be guilty; nor is my defence an argument to draw on your silence, but rather a motive to make you more liberal, in bestowing on me the rest of your collections; in which doubt not my constancy, since no enchantments can make me forget to preserve myself ever worthy to be your Mistress. M. S. A wooing and comfortable letter to a noble widow that had newly lost her husdand. THough (my noble Widow) I am the last that send you comfort, yet was I the first that felt your anguish, and will be the readrest of all men to serve you in your trouble: you have lost a dearly desired husband, and sound an infinite way to grief, the one is the act of Fate, and cannot be prevented, the other is the work of Nature, and by wisdom must be corrected: Remember (fair Widow) who is gone (a good man) to whom he is gone (to a good God,) and from whom (from a wicked World, and worse people) and you shall find more cause to praise heaven for his happiness then to murmur for your loss of comfort; a good man dies to live, there's your joy, an ill man life's to die, there's true anguish: the joys of marriage should be writ in Table-books, not upon paper, that Widows might blot and rubbe out the writing, for they ought not to remember the delights past, but to meditate on pleasures to come, not to marry for eternity, but during the will of heaven, neither have you lost any thing, for he was but a treasure lent you, and to grieve at the repayment were to wrong your goodness with ingratitude. Believe me Madam, were your cure in my hands, as your grief is at my heart, neither should your anguish hurt you, nor the memory of your loss survive a moment, but it is in heaven, and your wisdom, couple them together by yielding to providence, and you shall see your comforts flow upon you in a new tide, you have reputed me your friend, and shaped your best actions by my counsels, you were never more weak than now because alone, nor did you ever stand in more need, because many assaults are prepared against you, to keep you then in perfect safety, please you make me of a tried friend, a true husband, of a faithful counsellor, a profitabe Ruler, and of an able help a devout servant, I doubt not but you shall find that armour against all necessities. which shall both guard you against injuries, and bring you much honour, my character you know best, for I am no stranger, and my zeal you may judge by my former services, if they appear faultless before you, there will been no let but ceremony, which to countenance against virtue, were to be guilty of soul superstition: you are wise, and that wisdom I make my advocate, if he approve me worthy to be yours, my faith shall make me your truest servant among the living. F. R. Her Answer. SIr, had the comforts you sent me comen in a true wedding garment, pure and of one entire stuff: I could not have chosen but received it as the rest of your chaste counsels, and feasted on it with my daily meditation, but being so disorderly patched, I can neither believe it is yours, nor affect that which is so uncomely, you have sent me delicate gilt pills, where though the gold be more than the poison, yet is this poison enough to confound; therefore as much as with safety I may retain (for your ancient friendship) I will keep and study, the rest pardon me to return you, not out of malice to your wish, but grief at your folly, you have told me so well the excellency of my loss, that it were madness in me to run into a second hazard, and how ever you would take from widows, the bliss of remembrance, yet dear Sir know that I can never forget this maxim, that the death of a good husband ought not to take away the love of a chaste wife. To conclude, what you desire is not in my power to grant, for all my love I have sent with him to the grave, whom I have lost, & to hold me without that portion, were to grasp a cloud that would bring froth a Centaur; yet from thence should either Fate, or my follies deliver it, I could not find any more worthy than yourself to keep it; but the first is too constant, and the latter I hope shall never so fare rule in me: Therefore being as you were a chaste counsellor, and no seducer, you shall find me as you have done a faithful Cabinet full of your goodness. E. L. Another to the same purpose. Much honoured Mistress. THe never-ceasing stream of your gracious kindnesses, hath by the often thinking on their due deservings profoundly embosomed themselves in my grateful affection, which no course of tedious time can extenuate, nor the longest absence by distance have power to diminish But oh most kind meriter of all respect, whose good will I estimate as my greatest enrichment, although the condign requital of such your rare courtesies lie not in the compass and precinct of my poor power, whose tenuity is not able to pay such and exceeding tribute: yet how willing my mind is, and how inextinguishable my desires, this illiterate Epistle will testify, which devoid of elegancies, yet full fraught with the unfeigned profession of my love promiseth the employment of my uttermost powers in all serviceable endeavours, if all that I can do may but defray one mi●e of your invaluable courtesies Command my service, there is not any thing so great that I will shrink, or so small that 〈◊〉 will disdain to effectuate for your sake, having vowed to dye before any word issuing from your lips shall come in vain. But lest I should detract too much time from your more serious affairs, in all humility I take my leave. Yours unfeignedly. P.Q. Her Answer. THough I am far from vanity to esteem myself worthy of the style of beauty, yet I see not how to excuse your sinister opinion, that would thereto annex so great an inconvenience: for it seems (if things might be ordered by your mind) you would have beauty and love to be inseparable companions: oh gross! oh absurd wish, and most execrable position against beauty and love! Then any vicious, deformed or beggarly creature, being but conducted by good fortune to the view of some rare Virgin, this unworthiness must not only be entertained, but he that rather deseru●d to be hissed away with disdain, must strait be made the owner and Lord of her love: Nor shall it be in her power to give a repulse to the presumption of ind●g●e●u●ers, or to make ●●ee election of a deserving personage, to honour him with her gracious favour. But I hope sir, being thus clearly convinced, you will confess and make recantation of your error, I rest as I have reason. Yours not to use, S. M. A Letter of discontent after the falling out of Lovers. Most discourteous and painted friend: IT is the custom of Lovers after the breach of their league and amity, to send back those gratuities which formerly passed as tokens of their natural affections: you have taken up the fashion, and believe me I abhor any longer to have nearness with one of your qualification, who for mere trifles can dissolve the knot of friendship, and shake hands with familiarity. For know that your memory which was sometime dear in my thoughts, is now abhorred, seeing that the firmness and stability of affection (than which there is nothing aught by men more religiously to be observed) you have so causelessly brought to annihilation. I may parallel my present condition to the state of the Sun when pitchy clouds which environing him round about, seem to extinguish his splendour, but time the perfecter of all terrestrial things, may in due season impart a lustre correspondent to my hopes, and suitable to my disposition: till when I will scorn the blasts of adversity, and dead all those who having little or no merits, are endowed by the dispensation of the owly-eyd goddess Fortune with large possessions: howsoever if I can find no better to converse and spend my time withal then yourself, I will turn Momus and for ever hate the society of men: but having a better opinion of the generality, for your part I cashier you with this Vltimum vale, and rest, A stranger. A B. To his angry Mistress. AS the declining of the Sun brings a general darkness and discomfort, so the deficiency and absence of your shining and glorious favours hath overcovered me with clouds of care. But as the Sun's heavenly essence by the course of Nature is daily revived, so here I humbly sue that your wont gracious aspect may return in your countenance, to solace the doleful heart of your servant with vicissitude of long intermitted alacrity, it will redound to your great commendation, when the world shall understand that your heart is of wax, not inexorable and of a flinty and adamantine constitution, hoping that you will be as ready compassionately to grant as I do submissively implore the renovation of your love, I rest, Yours in unutterable affection. R. S. A Letter from an At apprentice in London, to his father in the Country. MY humble duty remembered good father unto you and my mother. Having the opportunity of this bearer, I thought good to certify you of my present being, giving you to understand that I am, I thank God, and you, in good health, and very well placed here in London, where I am in hope to continue my here being to some profitable and good purpose: My Master useth me in good sort, and I want nothing that appertained to such a one as myself. I trust you shall have joy of me, and ere a few years pass, I doubt not but so to be have myself that I shall well deserve this good liking that already I have of my master, and further credit at his hands and employment about his business I hope you and my mother; and all our friends in the country are in good health. I pray you that you will write unto my master as occasion serveth, and thank him for his good usage: and if you can to remember him with some good convenient token from the country. Thus desiring your daily blessings, and with a recommendation of my humble duty unto you both, I take my leave: Your loving and obedient son to command, D. P. London. A Letter from a husband to his wife. GOod wife, considering my hasty departure from you, and my children, my hope is that you will have that loving and respective care towards them and your family that appertaineth. I have left many things raw by reason of the suddenness of my journey, which standeth upon your good regard to be ordered, as namely the charge of my servants, and the disposition of some other affairs and businesses. You shall now show yourself a discreet and careful wife, if in my absence you will take upon you to been in my place. Regard and consider with yourself, that servants are negligent and careless, and if the master forget his own profit, they are as ready as others to share with his gains Your painful attendance to oure-looke them, shall strain their labours to my using, your desire to see to them, shall work their using to my well deserving. You must now a little forget neighbourhood, and walking for company, considering the old proverb, that when the Cat is a way, the Mouse will go play: If Master and Dame have both continued absence, servants fall a wasting, and do what they list. You know good wife, I have now taken a great charge of late upon me, which with some careful looking to may turn to good. Let it not be grevous unto you, nor think it hard that I thus make you partaker of my charge, as I do of my profit, for we are yoake-fellowes you know, and the charge is equal betwixt us both to be borne and supported. If as loving mates and fellows we draw forth together, we shall by God's blessed goodness see the fruits of our labours: our children shall participate with us of our travels, and God shall prosper our endeavours. And howbeit good wife I have ever found you such, as of whose care of my well doing I need have no doubt, yet if by the importance of my charge I be driven to write thus much unto you, think that in great trust of your modesty, respect of your love, and zeal to both our goods I have done the same. And though no distrust remain of any one about me, yet do I put you in mind what youth by too much sufferance and giving of liberty may be inclined to. This is all I would, and so much I hope as you gladly will yield unto. Commend me many times unto yourself. Kiss my little ones, and remember me, and commend my love to all our friends From Rye the 3 of Febr. 1628. Your assured loving husband. F. G. Her Answer. GOod husband, I am glad you have at last remembered yourself by this bearer to write unto me, that have thought it very long until I heard from you. I do greatly rejoice at the good and prosperous success, of your journey, and chief, that you have endured your travel so well, being in so good plight and strength of body, as I understand you are by your Letter. We are much beholden unto our good friends in the country that have given you so great and good entertainment: and I pray you hearty commend me unto them. Your business here goeth very well, and your servants both dutiful and diligent about their affairs, and we have no want but your presence, which if you would hasten hitherward, it were a comfort unto us all to see you, having been as to me it seemeth, very long absent. But Master Prince, and his friends where you are, useth you so kindly, that I think you cannot well tell how to wind yourself out from your good company. Yet good husband remember that at last you must come home, and the sooner the better. I refer all to your good discretion: and so commend me most hearty unto you. From London. Your ever loving and loyal Wife. R.G. A Letter from one kinsman to another in London or any other place. MY good Cousin, I am glad to hear of your good preferment in London, and that as I hear by your father and mother, you are so well placed there, and with so good a Master. It is no little comfort to me to understand that you do so resolutely and with so good a mind dispose yourself to your business, which I gladly wish you would continue. You must now remember, that your friends with great care, charge, and industry have brought you up, and that their intent and meaning therein was, that in expectation thereof they should have joy and comfort of you in your elder years: for which as you have now bequeathed yourself to this place of service, so must you for any fear of hard usage, bitterness of speech, or other mislike of taunts or rebukes, make a account to endure and continue. It may be, being yet unacquainted with the customs and usage of London, you do now think well of that which hereafter may turn to discontentment. But good cousin so be it, you have no want of things needful and necessary, frame yourself to forbear all those cross matters whatsoever, and give yourself wholly on God's name, to the benefit of your service, you shall therein want no help, furtherance or encouragement on my part, and if you perform it well and honestly, you shall not want when time serveth for an hundred pounds or two, if in the mean space I may see your good care of your master's business, and please your mistress, for therein you shall the better please your master. Your friends are all well, who rejoicing in that already they see you so well behaved, do daily pray to God to prosper and bless you: and thus with my hearty commendations I bid you farewell. Farndon this 18 of May 1628. Your loving kinsman, B. C. A Letter to request the borrowing of an hundred pounds. SIr, I am bold in my great necessity, under assurance of your forwardness to do me good, to entreat your special aid and furtherance in two ●hings, the one whereof is to lend me of your wont favour one hundred pounds, the other this bearer shall instruct you in, both which consist in your kind and friendly care of my well doing, I am of opinion none other than yourself can fit the occasion, better. And truly such is the force of imprisonment, as contrary to that you have wontedly known in me, my understanding is quite decayed, and sore worn with want of liberty, and where the spirits are so distuned, it must needs follow, the memory must needs sound nothing but discord. In fine, Sir, it is in you to do me good, and to make me by this only action for ever beholden unto you, wherein if I may so far forth presume of your fidelity assure yourself if ever God give me liberty, to none so much as you shall I be yoked in courtesy Good master ●. A. the matter hereof requireth some haste, whereto I must hearty entreat you fail me not. Far ye well this 18 of December. 1628. Your imprisoned friend, I. S. The Answer. GOod Master I. S. needless it were you should entreat me in that wherein you have found me most willing, and such whom with small persuasion you may induce to a fare greater purpose than what in you last letter is required; the messenger I have appointed to return again to my chamber to morrow morning, at which time I will not fail to send you your desired sum: for the other, hard will it be for me to accomplish that wherein yourself seem so unperfect, for that the dullest conceit forged from the most distempered of your imaginations, cannot but sound far better tunes then the ripest of my inventions any way are able to deliver. Nevertheless such as it is, or (by dislike of your own) you have will to account of, that will I prepare to your view, and put forward to your good speed, thinking it better by the delivery of a gross device to satisfy the demand of a friend, then by the concealing the simplicity thereof, to be consured uncourteous. In conclusion, it is lawful for you to use me to the uttermost, and fittest to your conformed league of amity, that (in whatsoever) you should employ me, wherein I desire you conceive no more than such as I intent to become, and you shall assuredly find me, Your faithful friend. I.P. A Letter to his friend for breach of promise. MAster jackson, I have abstained hitherto to come or send unto you, partly being wearied with importunity, for that I thought, now two months being passed, I might in this space have found a time convenient wherein to have ended with you. Having taken this cause in hand, I would (as in good reason I thought it fit) you should determine with me upon some conclusions whereon to rest assured, I might thenceforth know where to trust, and neither waste labour in coming to so small purpose, nor hinder my certain business by the unsteady stay of your affairs, as already I have done. We have talked many times, and set down certain limits, but to slender effect, as I neither know when to demand, nor you how to satisfy. So that depending upon shadows, I have passed my time to samll benefit, and you have gone forward to little purpose. I do pray you therefore that such meaning may assure us, as already between us hath been performed. To delay me thus with nifles, as I think is fare from a Gentleman, so do I suppose you not intent it, considering how many ways thereby I am and shall been hindered. This therefore may be the certain means to satisfy us both, that you will (as on Friday last you promised) come and see the agreement between us performed, whereof so I pray you advertise your full resolution by this bearer. And so I bid you hearty farewell. Your ever assured loving friend, W. M. Arthingworth. May 7. 1628. The Answer. GOod master W. M. my breach of promise in not having visited you with deserved requital since my departure, may breed suspicion and doubt of unthankfulness, but I hope, and by hope presume, that of your own good disposition towards all your acquaintance, you will yield unto an approved trial before you condemn. For my part, if I should not owe unto you all honest mind and fidelity, I should much contrary your great courtesy, and deservedly incur the shame of ingratitude. You know that having strayed as I have done out of the limits of a controlled rule, and displeased so much thereby, as my case hath bewrayed unto you, those whom by nature and duty I ought to be awed unto, It is reason that by a more district observance I make amends for the residue. The day appointed I will not fail to meet to view the writings, and to make some conclusion to your best satisfaction. Wherein you shall perceive the honest mind of a Gentleman. My father it seemeth, though not yet by me, hath otherwise understood how much I stand yoked (in all friendly league of amity) unto you, and thinketh himself for all his son's unthriftiness somewhat therein to be tied unto you. His meaning is, one of these days to entreat your pains hitherward. But however deserts be noted, or care by nature doth bind, assure yourself, whilst life leadeth a long this earthly coarse, I am and will be also yours most unfeignedly and in most entirely. To whom and to your good bedfellow, I most hearty and often commend me: From Thindon. june 28. 1628. Remaining your much bounden friend in all good affection, I. R. To his friend a Mercer. Dear sir, many salutations, etc. As my occasions fall out I still presume to trouble you, grounding my boldness upon the hope of your love and good will, I request you to send me as much black Satin as will make me a suit. I am your debtor already, beside in good will and love, a small sum, which for that it hath been long detained, you may conjecture it to been desperate: yet on my credit it is as sure as any money in your purse: My intent being honest, but my store not such as at this time I can satisfy: next Term I expect the plenty of my purse will be so profuse, that God permitting without fail for these and the old debt you shall be fully discharged. Acknowledging myself beholding, I rest Your thankful friend, R. G. A Letter to an unfaithful friend. SIr, I have ever been so loath to think ill of you, that I scarce allow mine own witness against you, or those strong presumptions that make me think you mean to keep no promises nor no friends: If you will needs have it so, let our acquaintance now grow sickly, and die privately, lest I be blamed for trusting, and you for deceiving so great a trust. For since our love is grown into so desperate a Lethargy, I will not wake it, for I had rather it should pass away in a trance, and the remembrance thereof never hereafter to be mentioned. What your friendship was I cannot tell, but I am assured to the view it was fit for greater courtesies than I required: what mine own was judge when you have most need of a friend. Neither will I tell you what a sea of misfortune your breach of promises hath let in upon me: but I'll bid you now and ever farewell, and with my letter conclude all rites of love betwixt you and me, and rest No longer your friend. I. B. A Letter for admittance into service. HOnourable sir: I have ever been so addicted to follow you, that in mine own opinion I am an old retainer of yours: so I am within a degree of a household servant, which is all the promotion that by the intercession of this Letter I strive to come to. But I see so many steps directed that way, that I may perhaps come too late, yet I hope your number is not full, though it be great, and I supposse all are not invited that go: but some intrude. I will take it for extreme bounty to been admitted within your gates: what I do is pressed by no necessity, but to save my longing, and to satisfy my desires, which a far off have ever served you Once I thought to have moved this suit by friends, but that way I was afraid it might miscarry: and I was not very willing it should succeed, being loath to entangle myself in obligations, to other men, when I was to pass myself over unto you, so I thought best to write, for to speak had been too bold. So in hope at the least of a pardon, I rest as far as in me lies, Your humble servant, B. I. To his love upon a long and fruitless affection. IT is the property of none but of a faint-hearted soldier for receiving a repulse or two to retire from assault, and to give over his enterprise: when every one ought to use constant perseverance, that he may work the accomplishment of his desires. The long unsuccessivenesse of my suit hath not made me weary of your service, though since I first fell in love with you (O might the examples incite you no longer to retard your affection) the Sun hath gone about the world, and given a new life to all things which the tempestuous winter had left forlorn: the joyful Merchant hath made a rich return, and the laborious husbandman hath crammed his barns with the plenteous crop of the ever fruitful earth: Every one hath his hope, only myself more unfortunate than all the rest, in this revolution of time have not had any success. I am you see peerless in misfortune: it rests in you with the sympathy of affection to make me peerless in felicity, of which I will never despair, there being no heart that is more infinitely affected toward you then the heart of Your truest servant, E. I. To his sweet heart in the Country. Sole mistress of my affections: THough in London where I now am many singular beauties are daily obvious to my sight, yet I beseech you not to charge me unfeigned lines with flattery, if in the just collaudation of your own unparallelled pulchritude I prefer your unmatchable form before the ratest of their composures: Their formosities come as far short of yours as the splendour of the twinkling Stars comes short of the all-enlightning radiance of the Sun beams, and they all are as far your inferiors in the ravishing gifts of Nature, as the vilipended pebble is inferior to the worth of the most high prized Carbuncle. To which outward endowments when I revolve in my mind (and no hour passeth without commemoration of your perfections) how sweetly you have united all internal graces, then am I distracted with grief for my absence, and though my unrestrained mind be inseparably with you, yet I curse the distance of place which deprives me of all comfort, because it disjoines me from your presence, which till I enjoy, all joy is banished out of my breast, and I have given grief a free dominion in me, I cannot say I rest, but I remain, Your entire vessel, I. S. A young man's Letter to his enamoured mistress. Fairest of a thousand: IF you were not absolute, I would not be thus resolute: only to love you whom I hold only worthy loving: your beauty tells mine eye, and your kindness persuades my heart of your goodness; for, if you were proud, I should disdain you, and if you were not fair I would not affect you: now, if you know the one true in yourself, believe the other in me, and wrong not yourself, in not doing me right: Modesty and vicenesse are two, and delays are the hindrances of happiness: to urge your patience with importunity I will not, and yet to give over my suit I cannot: and therefore knowing your judgement sufficient to understand your own good, I hope to find your disposition not inclined to hurt him, who remaineth, Your as you will, and when you will, T. D. Her kind answer. MY worthy friend, how long I have loved you, was from the first instant that I beheld you: how much I do love you, I would I could tell you: how dearly I will love you, my best endeavours shall truly make known unto you: and if under heaven I may find such happiness on the earth as to be regarded in your favour, I will think it idle that figures earthly felicity: for your excellence, being almost without exception, let my love be without comparison: and if truth may have belief, let my affection be without suspicion: and as you have won my heart with your eyes, make it happy with your hands: so hoping that so sweet an aspect can have no sourness in spirit, in the hope of your kind answer, I rest Yours, devoted to be commanded. A. B. A Letter of Request. Kind friend: I would entreat a kindness, but for fear of a denial, not out of mine own deserts, but rather your disposition, which I doubt is too near the nature of the world, rather to grant then to gratify: excuses are more trials of wit then truth, and a faithful heart hath no stop in love, and therefore, that I may not have cause to wrong myself in my assured confidence of your worth do right to yourself in the good of that performance, that, without parenthesis may conclude in a full point of kindness. The substance of my suit I have sent you by word of mouth, because my hand-writing shall not witness my unhappiness if my hope should fail the expectation of my affection, in which without greater care of the contrary, I rest, Yours as you know, D. S. A Letter of discontent, upon denial of a Request. My small friend, I Thank you for nothing more than that I have nothing to thank you for, wherein you rather considered what I am, than yourself should be: pardon my folly, in presuming above knowledge, and believe me no more if I fall into the like error of opinion: you willed me to make account of your uttermost power, in my good: It may been it was in wishes, which are easily requited, but when they are void of effects, they are but troubles to reason: I cannot spell without letters, nor understand words without substance, therefore loath to be tedious, when I have unwillingly been troublesome, I pray you let compliments be without cost, so shall kindness continue, in that condition of judgement that shall make me always ready to requite your denial of my request as I find cause, Your friend to command, R. T. To a Court Lady. IF Love could dissemble, patience could have no passion, but truth is so tied to affection, that as a sound limb it cannot halt. If you ask the reason of my affection, look into the excellency of your own worth, and then if there be any extreme, take it in the best part, which groweth from yourself: for such is my judgement of your deserving, as can be answered in nothing but in admiring: for surely, he must be either very dim sighted that doth not prefer your beauty to all shadows, or dull witted, that understands not the honour of your worthiness. O 〈◊〉 me leave then, out of the sight of my best sense, and sense of my best sight, to devote my service to your command, that may give a happiness in your employment: and while idle Compliments are but Court fashions, let plain truth have such acceptance in your favour, that suspicion may not wrong a true affection: in which I vow ever to rest, Yours all, or mine own not at all, I. G. Her complemental answer. What words shall I use to win your affection, holding under heaven my happiness but in your love: if 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 would please you in your affairs, I would never rest 〈◊〉 in your favour: if gifts might be graciously accepted, I would give you myself for your love: if pity might move you, I would lay before you my passion: and if my death might only answer your desire, I would not live to despair of your comfort: but love being a spirit of that nature, that only is pleased in being himself, I will leave all my hopes to that happy hour, wherein he may in your eyes, cast those blessed beams of favour, upon the faith of my heart, that may make me in the infringible bond of devoted service to the last period of my life Yours wholly and only to be commanded, E. N. FINIS.