❧ A Dial for dainty Darlings, rocktin the cradle of Security.  
❧ A Glass for all disobedient Sons to look in.  
¶ A Mirror for virtuous Maids.  
A Book right excellent, garnished with many worthy examples, and learned authorities, most needful for this time present.  
Compiled by W. Auerell, Student in Divinity, and Schoolmaster in London.  
Imprinted at London for Thomas Hackette, and are to be sold at his shop in Lumbert street, under the Pope's head. 1584.   

To the right worshipful, and his singular good friend, Master William Wrath, Warden of the Worshipful Company of the Mercers, W. Auerel wisheth health of body, happiness of soul, and continual prosperity, both in this life, and in the life to come.  
Having long time studied (well beloved Sir) which way I might show the fr●●ies of my good will, by gratifying your worship, with some sign of my affectionate heart, and having by opportunity this book ready finished, I could not tell on whom I might better bestow it then on your worship, whose affability, gentleness, courtesy, virtue, and other commendable gifts, I have not only heard with mine ears, but judged by mine eyes, as having had experience thereof from the beginning of my remembrance, whom therefore I have made the sole supporter of my labour, in bestowing this handful of paper upon you, knowing that you will courteously take it, thankfully accept it, and friendly defend it, being a matter virtuous, against all the scoffs, and girds of the vicious, whose envy and ignorance, so dimmeth the seat of their affections, that being blinded with folly, they loath wisdom, and every virtuous exercise, for which cause I study not to please them, nor care not to content them, considering that to please the wicked, is to displease the godly.  
I have rather selected you out as a patron of my pains, than any other, for that I hope you will more graciously take them, then accustomably the greater sort do in these days, whose ingratitude is grown so great, that the studies and toils of men, which in times paste were in great favour regarded, and with lyberallytie rewarded, are now so coldly esteemed, and so unthankfully received, that the learned are now a days, rather bend to study for their own gain, then by writing, to procure the public profit of others.  
By means whereof, learning groweth in contempt, and men wax cold in the study thereof, seeing virtue lacketh her reward, and learning looseth a friendly countenance.  
Yet I know there are that favour good letters with cheerfulness, take the gifts of the good Students, that both receive their labours., and reward their virtues, and such are truly virtuous, and duly noble, how inferior a calling soever they possess, for virtue is true Gentility, and the only badge of renowned Nobility, which doth more nobillitate the name of a Gentleman, than treasure, and more advance his fame, than riches.  
Among whom I account your worship, hoping that you will with a good countenance accept my travails, and with friendliness esteem my labours, which if you do, then am I as fully satisfied, as if I had reaped a greater benefit, accounting your good will my sufficient recompense, and your favourable acceptation, a friendly requital: And thus committing you and yours to the government of the Almighty, I end, desiring God to bless you in this life with all happiness, and in the life to come, send you perfect felicity.  
Your poor friend and well willer. W. A. Schoolmaster.  
Amen.   

To the friendly and courteous Reader.  
GEntle and friendly Reader, if thou think him to be thy friend that bestoweth upon thee frankly, and with a liberal heart, some costly jewel to delight thine eye, or some golden gift to pleasure thy mind: then think me no less, that give thee not a material thing alone to feed thy fancy, but a costly comfort for thy hearts delight, which albeit it seem small in show, and bear a slender bulk, yet mayst thou, of what condition soevet thou be of (if with judgement thou read it) pick out such wholesome lessons, as may pleasure thy mind, and profit thy life. Hear shalt thou learn in prosperity, to beware of pride, and to avoid security: if thou be a Father, how to bring up thy children with discretion: if a Son, how to reverence thy Father with wisdom: if thou be single, how to choose thy wife, so that thy life may be happy, and thy time spent in quietness: if married, how to govern thyself and thy mate in all seemelynes and virtue: here may wives learn wisdom, and maidens gather modesty. To conclude, the commodities are many, the examples pleasant, and the practice thereof profitable, and therefore, to the end that thou mightest be partaker of that which may be thy future profit, I have compiled this small Book, not wearying thee with long discourses, lest thy mind should (being queasy) wax loathsome, and so disdain it before thou read it: but in short and brief Treatise, I have packed together that which if thou can rightly use it, shall be as gain some as pleasant, wherefore, if thou bring with thee a thankful heart, and a virtuous mind, thou wilt thankfully take that which I have friendly written: but if thou have an envious eye, thou wilt soon carp at that by envy, which the Printer by oversight, and I by infirmity have committed.  
Learned Homer sometime sleepeth, and the fastest foot somety me slippeth, the wisest tongue may catch a trip, and the wariest pen commit a fault, error is as natural, as the correction thereof commendable.  
Wherefore that which remaineth is, I commit myself and my labour to thy good liking, if thou like it, commend it and use it, if thou dislike it, amend it, or refuse it, do not Nodum in scirpo querere, seek a knot in a ryshe: For many will find fault, that cannot amend a work, and some disdain others labours, that are themselves loitering idle livers, that either cannot do any thing worthy commendation, or if they be able, consume their time in scoffing, or else in idle living. But knowing I shall not be so fortunate as to escape some such altogether, seeing that under every Stone lieth a Scorpion, I commend me to the virtuous, despising the envious, and so gentle Reader, wishing thy well fare, I end, committing thee to him, whom I beseech grant thee to read with profit.  
Farewell.   

❧ A Dial for dainty darlings, that are rocked in the Cradle of Security.  
Herodotu saith, that 
Hugo in libello ad socium voleatem nubere.  when a Woman putteth off shamefastness with her garment, and that she walketh without her vesture, she walketh naked, forgetting herself to have done any such thing: so that shamefastness once lost, she drowneth herself in the Charybdis of all vices, & falleth into the Scylla of all outrageous mischiefs. And therefore saith Cicero in his book De oratore, Custos omnium virtutum verecundia est, Shamefastness is the preserver and keeper of all virtues. And Valerius Maximus saith: Verecundia parens est omnis honesti consilij, Shamefastness is the mother of all honest counsels. But where shamefastness remaineth not, there entereth pride, whoredom, untemperance, and the sink or puddle of all pestiferous vices: so that beholding an unshamefast woman, we may justly imagine, we see a naked strumpette, openly showing her close and hidden secrets. This vice of unshamefastness, is continually matched with pride, yea, they are so united and joined together, that evermore they walk arm in arm, like sister and germane, and are never found to be separated a sunder: after pride, followeth forgetfulness of God, contempt of man, and utter disdain of all virtue. But especially pride so transformeth the inward ornaments of the mind, that it leadeth the body to all abuse, and bringeth the soul to utter ruin, enchanting the wits with such unnatural passions, that it altereth the shape, as it were with Circe's illusions, the spectacle of this outrageous fury: you may evidently behold, in the example of a captains wife of Constantinople, whose detestable pride, was so loathsome in the eyes of the Lord, that it procured his justice to work revenge upon her stinking carcase. The report whereof as I have briefly read, so the discourse thereof, I will shortly write, trusting that all these in whom the sparks of virtue are kindled, will by her example grow into a greater increase of virtue, and they whom the water of folly hath quenched their good desires, will warm themselves at the flames of wisdom, to dry up the moisture of their vicious minds.  

¶ A notable and excellent example of God's judgements, in his most severe punishment, of the rare and strange pride, of a captains wife of Constantinople.  
THere was within the famous City of Constantinople, a Captain over a certain band of Venetians, when, if he could as well, by wisdom have governed his wives infirmity, as he could by policy conduct and rule his army, his memory had been obscured, with blot of oblivion, and his wives example drowned in the suds of silence.  
But there is no art can change the spots of the leopard, no labour wash off the colour of the Morian, nor force of the hammer break the Adamant, nor no Art nor strength resist a wicked woman, but that if she once let lose the rains to pride and pleasure, shaking of the grace of God from of her careless shoulders: If the fear of her creator▪ can not reduce her from sin, nor the world's report convert her to shame: it is neither wisdom nor policy, persuasion nor counsel, force nor fortitude, can alter the course of her corrupted nature.  
But returning to the discourse of this Venetians wife, so tenderly, so delicately, or rather so dyssolutelie, she spent the course of her ungracious life, delighting herself so superstitiously with artificial pleasures, that she disdained to wash her soft and dainty skin, with the necessary use of common Conduit water.  
Like to a number of our curious Dames, that are more wanton than wise, more pretty than profitable, and more finish, than either wisdom willeth, or the state of their husbands alloweth, not contented with things necessary, but always seeking that is superfluous.  
Thus loathing the liquor ordained by Nature, she sought to procure her some other by Art, and therefore caused her servants, by their continual toil, to gather for her, the dropping dew of Heaven: by the which their no small labour, they procured for her, a bathe to wash her tender limbs.  
O monstrous Pride, O unsatiable nature, O execrable fury, that not contented with Nature's simple use, would seek for things of dainty arts device.  
But as the Myrrh, though it be sweet in smell, yet is it bitter in taste, or as the Water in Leontinis, though it quench thirst, it presently killeth, so her present use of pleasures, though a while they were sweet, yet at last they were sour, when the anger of God was kindled against her pride.  
If the Lion bite of the worm Leontophon, incontinently he dieth: if a man drink of a certain red water in Ethiope, he weareth mad: and certainly, who so tasteth of this detestable vice of pride, it leadeth them either presently (without grace) to everlasting death, or bringeth them in short time to such madness of mind, that they utterly forget whereof they are made, from whence they came, and whereunto they shall.  
This imp of Venus, or rather companion of Lucifer, was so rooted in pride, being Lerna malorum, The dunghill of mischiefs: that she continually devised to satisfy her lust, and disdained that which was common to nature's kind, acquainting herself with such contemptible qualities, that she loathed to touch her meats with her white and delicate fingers, and therefore found out a rare and strange invention, to satisfy the appetite of her queasy stomach, causing her eunuchs (being certain gelded persons) to minister unto her in little morsels, her necessary use of her needful nourishmentes, which she received not at their hands, which scorned to touch them with her own, but from off a golden flesh hook, with her two foretéeth, she daintily conveyed the same into her mouth.  
But as each disease, if it be not taken in time, creepeth by continuance into every part of the body, or as the water that breaketh out of his bounds, if it be not quickly stopped, gathereth at length into a mighty flood: So this malady of her mind, being let at liberty, overflowed the banks of reason, and drowned her quite in the swallowing gulf of surquedry.  
Her bed chamber was garnished with such diversity of sweet herbs, such variety of fragrant flowers, such change of odoriferous smells, so perfumed with sweet odours, so stored with sweet waters, so beautified with tapistry, and decked so artificially, that I want memory to rehearse it, and cunning to express it, so that it seemed, her Chamber was rather some terrestrial Paradise, than a mansion for such a mateless mysteresse, rather a tabernacle for some Goddess, than a lodging for such a loathsome carcase.  
But the stroke the higher it is fetched, is of greatest force in falling, the wound, the longer it corrupts, brings greatest smart in curing, and the judgements of God, the longer deferred, are the more severe in punishing, for though his patience procure sufferance, yet his justice yieldeth vengeance, though he have leaden feet, yet hath he iron hands, though it be long or he come, yet at last he payeth home, as may evidently appear in the mirror of this woman's misery, upon whom the Lord showed the severity of his Justice, as an upright reward of her unshamefast offences.  
Draw near you wanton worms, that lean your lofty heads, upon the dainty pillows of pride, you that have periwigs to curl your hair, colours to paint your face, art to square your shoulders, bolsters to fashion your waist, inventions to change nature, and devices to alter kind, consider what Cyprian saith: De habitu virgins, quod natum est, ex Deo est, quod mutatum est ex demone: That which is borne, is of God, that which is changed, is of the devil. Your washing in sweet waters, your anointing with sweet odours, your musk, your civitte, your balm, and a number of devices, to make the body sweet, when your pride and whoredom, with the rest of pride's companions, do make your souls to stink, as the Poet Martial saith: Non bene olent, qui semper bene olent, They smell not well, that always smell well. Behold how the Lord punished the pride of this woman, which had sold herself to unshamefastness in his sight, for with the shining sword of his divine judgement, he rotted every part of this her pampered body, so that no member, no joint, nor part thereof was free, from the mouldered plague of putrefaction.  
Her Chamber was filled with such an intolerable stink, that no man could abide the smell thereof in his nostrils: thus was she hateful to God, disdainful to man, and loathsome to herself, but that most might increase her grief, utterly forsaken of all company, her eunuchs which had fed her daintily, disdained to cherish her simply, her Maids which had served her curiously, refused to nourish her poorly, scarcely one Maiden servant, who by her flattery and fair persuasions, by promises and fair allurements, enticed with hope of gain, and assisted with sweet perfumes, ministered to her want and supplied to her necessity, till the twisted line of her miserable life, wasted with the corruption of weakness knapped in sunder, and the full time of her fatal Glass expired, she yielded herself to the wont course of nature, and finished the race of this her ruthful pilgrimage.  
Quickly was this languor digested of her friends, the end of whose grief increased their gladness, her complete moan, procured their mirth, and her finished sorrow brought unto them sweetness of contentation, rather rejoicing at her delivery, then sorrowing at her departure, who in her life time was a mirror of misery, and at her death a glass of ignominy, in her prosperity the pray of pride, and the view of vanity: and therefore justly in adversity, the play of Fortune, and the blot of Infamy.  
Behold here dear Dames, the end of pride's presumption, and in this mirror conceive her last conclusion: learn by this example to avoid curiosity, and crave of God with tears, for true humility, the which shall make you most acceptable to God, most like unto Angels, and best beloved of earthly creatures. Where contrariwise pride, as it is the greatest misery, so doth it transform men to monsters, Angels to devils, and reasonable 
August. ad quendam comitem.  creatures, to internal furies. To which purpose Augustin saith: Humilitae homines sanctis Angelis similes facit, et superbia ex Angelis demones facit, etc. Humility maketh men like to holy Angels, but pride of Angels maketh men devils. And as I may plainly say, she is of all sins the beginning, the end and the cause, for that not only pride itself is sin: but also no sin hath been, or can be, or 
Gregory▪ in moralibus.  shallbe without pride. Gregory saith, Radix cuncti mali▪ et regina omnium vitiorum superbia est, etc. Pride (saith he) is the root of every mischief, and the princess of all vices: Of which the Scripture witnesseth, saying: Pride is 
Eccle. 10.  the beginning of all sin. Seven principal vices spring from the venomous root of pride, namely, vain glory, envy, wrath, sadness, covetousness, gluttony, and lechery, with the which seven vices of pride, the devil often holdeth us captive. I remember, Hugo Victorinus maketh a notable description of pride, saying: Quatuor 
Hugo, victori. in lib. de claustro, animae.  sunt quae trahunt elationis currum▪ etc. There be four horses (saith he) that draw the waggon of pride (Videlicet) desire of rule, love of proper praise, contempt, and disobedience: the wheels thereof are boasting of mind, and arrogancy, gloriousness in speech and levity: the driver of this waggon is the spirit of pride: they which are borne herein, are the lovers of this world: the horses are unbridled, the wheels easily turned, the carter froward, and they weak which are carried. Very well therefore was it said in Ecclesiasticus, that the original of all sin is pride, so hateful in the sight of the Lord, hath it always been, that in all ages and all persons, it never went unpunished: how proud was Nabuchodonozer, which in the 
Dani. 4.  midst of his glory cried out: Is not this great Babylon, which I have built for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty. But the same hour was he punished, for he was cast out of men's company, & did eat grass like Oxen, and his body was wet with the dew of Heaven, till his heaires were grown as eagle's feathers, & his nails as birds claws.  
O how many hath pride been the destruction of, which have suffered themselves to be carried away thereby? yea and what mischief is there, which hath not been through pride provoked? hereby was Absalon enticed to expel 
2▪ Sam. 15.  his Father forth of his kingdom, by this Romulus slew his brother, that he alone might rule as King, through this julius Caesar pursued Pompey unto death, with whom he had many battles, and all through pride and covetousness of rule. Of this, Marius the Roman not contented that he had six times been Consul of Rome, would violently keep the same the seventh, whereby came a great slaughter between Marius and Silla, who withstood him therein: through this, Alexander the great moved battle, & vexed all the Orient with wars, through his unjust pride and ambitious desire.  
But to turn again to examples in Scripture, because upon the truth thereof we build our belief: Lucifer, through pride was thrown out of Heaven, Adam through pride, was thrust out of Paradise, the tower of Babel was thereby overthrown, Goliath the Phylistian was thereby slain, Aman was hanged, Nichanor killed: And to resemble the History whereof I entreat, Antiochus for his pride was so plagued, that his bowels by Gods just judgements rotten, yea, and from thence issued worms in such abundance, that the smell of his carcase was to every man annoyance. Herode advancing himself in his royal estate, would for his glory be esteemed a God, but the power of the Lord suppressed his pride, that the stinking worms consumed his carcase. Thus may we see, how pride hath caused the wrath of the Lord to be kindled, so that in men, nay, in Angels, it hath not scaped unpunished: and to question against the vain pride of some women, what became of eves presumption, what of jezabelles' pride, the one desiring to be as God, was thereby to the devil subjecteth, the other for her wickedness, was of filthy Dogs devoured. O vanity of vanity, O fond and fickle beauty, nay, O stinking fleshly glory. Inquire of an old & wrinkled creature, what is become of her wont gifts of Nature by age defaced, by sickness changed, by sorrows and cares altered, and by times continuance wasted: why then art thou proud, earth & ashes, where is Helen of Greece? Polixena of Troy? Dido of Carthage? Arotonica of Syria? Venus of Cypress? Cleopatra of Egypt? Lucrece of Rome? with Faustin & the rest: Where is their beauty? Where is their pomp? Where is their Princely apparel? Their costly chains? Their precious jewels? Their rings? Their bracelets? And the rest of all their glory? Is it not in the earth? Is it not forgotten? What remaineth thereof to them? But as a certain man had written on his grave, Hoc solum mihi super est Sepulchrum, Only this Sepulchre remaineth unto me. Even so, of all your pride, of all your beauty, and of all the rest of your worldly pleasures, wherein you fix your chief felicity: nothing but earth remaineth to your delicate body, and for your naked soul, the richesse of God's mercy: cast away therefore these fading shadows, and cleave to the substance of assured things: consider with yourselves, that whatsoever you possess, or whatsoever you use in this life, it is but a vapour that swiftly slideth, and a false flame that quickly fadeth, only your good conscience shallbe a brazen wall, and a tower of defence for you, at the day of judgement, before the presence of the omnipotent God, unto whom if you will live well, account all worldly things but smoke, so shall you not be pressed down with the vanities of this life, but that you may without fear of conscience, life up your eyes, to behold the presence of your redeemer, and rain with him in that everlasting place of pleasure.    

❧ The punishment of disobedience, showed upon an obstinate and stubborn Son, who most miserably and unnaturally, withheld from his Parents, the needful noutishmentes, of their necessary sustenance. A notable spectacle for every disobedient child, to see therein the plagues of God, upon unnatural children, that withdraw from their aged Parents, the duty and love that they ought to show.  
A 'mongst the works that nature hath framed, we count it great deformity, for any thing to be repugnant to the kind, whereof it took increase, in as much as in those sensible Creatures, separated from rational understanding, and being but led by sensual government, we see an inward duty and secret love, that causeth the root of thankfulness, to yield forth lively fruits of plentiful good will, to repay the passed pains of their séellie Parents. Both bird, beast, fish, or whatsoever receiveth life, is in some part endued with a certain knowledge, and love of those, from whom they had their being, or essential substance: and therefore those children, unto whom so little regard of natural love remaineth, that they not only derogate that duty from their Parents, which God and nature hath commanded, but also pursue the life of their progenetours, even to their graves, being led on with a covetous desire, rather of their substance, than any willing wish of their lives assurance. I know not whereunto I may resemble them by similitude, but to the Viper's brood, most full of ingratitude, who not tarrying their timely maturity, eat out their Mother's sides most cruelly, preparing their timely passage, to the untimely death of their miserable mother: and as both the Male and Female receive their death, by the increase of their unnatural seed, (the one by bearing, the other by engendering) so fareth it with a great many impious children, (that like these Vipers, unthankful to their Parents for their being) desire not only the death of their Fathers, but, (if any richesse or substance, is growing to them by their Mother's departing) like detestable seed, do also procure the death of both, to the end (that like the Vipers) they may procure their present being, though it be to both their Parents undoing: Example of this you shall perceive in the sequel of this discourse, as also the vengeance of God, upon the vice of disobedience, being left as a clap to dismay the minds of such rebellious persons, before the bolt of God's vengeance, be shot to their further punishment.  
In the parts of Normandy, there dwelled a man, more renowned for his richesse, then fortunate in his issue, who, though by birth he was to some inferior, yet for substance, to many men superior: so that, I know not whether he were more happy in his wealth, or unhappy in his Son, such contrariety was there, in both these gifts of fortune: that for the one, he was to her beholding: for the other, to accuse her of disdain. But such is the unconstauncie of fortunes gifts, that amid many pleasures, the author of fortune, sendeth some displeasures, lest the forgetful nature of man should decline from the remembrance of his omnipotency.  
This man had but one only son, whom therefore he tenderly and delicately brought up to man's state, not bending the wyeth while it was green, nor propping the plant while it was young, by reason whereof the wyeth grew stiff, and the tree crooked: so that it passed Art's integrity, to alter the course of nature's deformity, Quo semel est imbuto recens seruavit odorem: The vessel being new, was at first seasoned with stinking loathsome liquor, so that it was to hard afterward to remove thereof the savour: they that will have fine Spanielles, teach them being small: they that will have good horses, bridle them being young: and they that will have virtuous Children, do correct them being Infants: otherwise the dog will not hunt, the Horse will not bear, nor the Child live in honest behaviour: but the one will snarl, the other will kick, and the third will stubbornly spurn at his duty.  
There was adjoining to this man, a certain Knight, who noting the wealth of this unfortunate Father, to return to the possession of this his only Son: thought that such a mass of money, as he possessed, would counterpoise the simplicity of his stock, and bear out the base ignobillitie of his birth: and therefore having a Daughter of comely countenance, adorned with the gifts of nature's liberality, purposed to contrive a match, betwixt this rich man's son, and his fair daughter: and waiting opportunity, brought certain of his friends, to persuade this seely man to an unprofitable match, and thus he framed unto him his speech.  
Sir, muse not at my words, but friendly way my meaning, which I intend to utter, the end whereof tendeth to the advancement of your stock and kindred: So it is, that fortune hath given unto me a Daughter, of birth well borne, of beauty sufficient, and of goods and virtuous government, her will I bestow in marriage upon your son, which if you like, shall (as I hope) not only redound to your great comfort, and further help while you are here, but also hereafter exalt your posterity, and bring your stock unto high renown and gentry: This will I do conditionally, that you will make a present delivery of all your possessions, into the hands of your only son, who though by nature he shall be moved, to your sufficient maintenance, yet will I see, that to your necessity shall be ministered abundantly, the commodities are divers that may induce you here unto: first consider, that your age requireth rest, which you may take, having once accomplished this thing, than what joy may it be unto your aged mind, to behold with your eyes, your son assured lie placed in your possessions, who though he be your only heir, to succeed you in the same, yet may be thereof prevented by death, or by accident of adverse fortune.  
This simple man, heard attentively this sugared tale, not considering, that in smoothest streams, is most dangerous wading, in shallowest waters, most perilous sailing, and in greatest places, most hurtful sleeping: the be carrieth honey in her mouth, and a sting in her tail, the Sirens sing sweetly, but their song is the sailors sorrow. So this flattering Knight, though in his speech appeared an outward show of truth, yet was it but the hook to catch this silly fish with all, to the end that his Daughter might come to the possession of his wealth. And therefore I may liken the simplicity of such men (that cast not the disprofit of each cause, as well as the commodity) to the folly of the fish Sargus, whereof Aelianus speaketh, 
Aelia. in li. 11. cap. 19 de nat. animal.  which so vehemently loveth the Goat, that the fisherman when he purposeth to take her, putteth on a goats skin over his head with horns, prepareth his nets, the Sun shining at his back, and disperseth in the Sea: Wheat sodden in porridge, made with goats flesh, the savour thereof when the Fish perceiveth, she draweth nigh, delighting in the sight of the feigned Goat, and so is taken in the net to her own annoyance: even so, these men delighted in the shadow of outward truth, are deceived with substance of inward deceits.  
Thus this old man, trusting to the glorious words of this wily Fisher, was caught in the net of vain belief, that such ease and contentation should redounds to his desire, as should cause the small course of his future life, to be spent, in fullness of all delight, and therefore (though loath to departed from that he firmly loved) yet persuaded thereto, by the professed friends of this glorious Gentleman, was induced to condescend to their desires.  
The marriage day therefore appointed, the solemnities thereof were shortly accomplished. The Son and the Daughter the first year, ministered to the necessity of their aged Parents, plenty of all things: the second more sparingly: but the third most unshamefastly: the fourth year, through the suggestions of his Wife, he prepared for his woeful Parents, a little lodging, opposite against his stately building, where he might yield unto them, a bare scantling of necessary sustenance.  
Thus these odious children, as time increased, began to imitate the nature of the Pelicans' younglings, who after their mother hath brought them up to some bigness, begin to strike and peck her in the face, for which she being vexed, in her fury killeth them, and afterward being sorry therefore, she pierceth her sides with her boisterous beak, till the warm blood issuing from her breast, reneweth her younglings to newness of life: In which similitude, is comprehended the entire affection of a mother to her children, and the small requital of children to their Parents.  
This aged and unfortunate Father, with his croaked old Wife, suffered in this state no little need and necessity, yea, scarcely durst they set foot within the doors of their ungodly Son: but commanded those things, yea, and requested the same, which they could not want, from the hands of a household servant. O miserable servitude, nay, O untolerable slavery, that he which had authority to command the son, was now at the pleasure of a servant.  
In this case, these two crooked Creatures, passed a great part of their toilsome time, until, it fortuned the aged Mother, out of her cottage window, espied one day, in the house of her Son, meat spitted, and laid to the fire, ready to be roasted: the sight whereof, procured unto her some hope of better fare, then accustomable use did yield unto her. But seeing that delay of either sending for her, or to her, did drive her in doubt of the least part thereof, she came unto her aged husband, the only copartner of all her grief, saying unto him.  
O my well beloved husband, the ancient companion of all my pains, thou seest in what hungry state, we spend our withering time, which requireth greatest sap of nourishment, as for me, I am but a miserable mother, and an unhappy woman, whom fortune hath taught, to be with fewest things content. But go thou to the house of our Son, where it may hap thou shalt fill thy hungry body, with part of that meat, which mine eyes by chance espied.  
The old man hearing these words of his friendly Wife, leaving his aged limbs upon his staff, hasted to the house of his unnatural child, hoping to find that fare, that his hungry heart did wish.  
But this wretched and accursed child, having intelligence of his Father's approach, caused the meat to be taken from the fire, and privily conveyed the same into a secret place, lest the eyes of his aged Sire should, but be fed with the sight thereof, and hastily running to meet his croaked Father, in steed of reverent speech, gave him froward language, and for honour to his silver heaires, obstinatelic showed him a frowning countenance.  
Which when the silly simple man perceived, how frustrate he was of his longed hope, dissembling the matter, he presently returned to his former abode, whose sorrowful heart, I refer to the mild consideration, of every lenious and gentle Parent, that have felt the discourtesy of such bastards and unnatural slips: which degenerate from the virtue of their ancient root, from whence they took their off-sppring.  
See here the nature of a dunghill bird, once matched in alliance with the noble Eagle: behold the nature of this crabtrée slip, being once grafted into the dainty Pearetrée stock. Mark well the nature of this carrion Kite, being entered in society with the fleeing Faulcone, & consider the quality of this upstart Gentleman, matched in affinity with this new alliance: Set a beggar on horseback and he will gallop, set a fool on a bench, and he will knock his heels, make a cobbler a Courtier, and who more scornful, make a iavell a Gentleman, and who more disdainful. This young youth, advanced to this state, forgot the place from whence he had his original, disdaining his Father, contemning his Mother, and withholding from them sustenance and reverence, which had given unto him substance & essence. But behold, the punishment of God upon disobedience, how severely he revenged, this lack of earthly duty, which by his word he hath commanded, and let it be a mirror to all virtuous children, that they withhold not from their aged parents, that love and affection, which nature hath required: This haggard son, his father being gone, commanded the meat to be laid again to the fire, the which was no sooner done, but suddenly a monstrous ugly Toad, violently leaping up and down the Chamber, approached the fire side, and hastily shipping upon this accursed meat, cleaved to close to the same, that force nor strength could beat the same away. The maid crying to her young master, with a shrieking voice, caused him quickly to discern the matter, who assaying by stripes to repulse the same away, wrought (by God's just judgement) his own punishment: for this filthy Toad, contrary to nature's temerity, which hath taught the same to fly the sight of man, with forcible strength, reverted from the meat, and respringing from the same, leapt suddenly into the face of this Lordly son, cleaving so fast thereunto, that no art nor council, no force nor fortitude, could drive the same from his accursed flesh, but that sticking thus unto his face (many years) punished the wickedness of this ungracious imp, that contrary to law & nature disdained the duty due to his withered Parents. But that which is most miraculous, when any man touched any part of this hateful monster, or endeavoured to drive the same from of his face, the terror of torment so assaulted his heart, that it pinched the same with most untolerable pains.  
The fame of this wonder, was spread throughout all the uttermost ends of Normandy, and France, the strangeness whereof, did amaze as many as heard the same, causing in many children some fear and duty to their Parents, and in many Fathers more careful regard of their children.  
Yet as there is no offence so bainous, but by contrition avoideth God's vengeance, so is there no sin so grievous, but is pardoned by repentance, for though the fire of God's wrath, be often kindled against our transgression, yet the watery tears of submission, quencheth the consuming coals of his anger, and obtaineth present remission, and so though this obstinate son had both offended his earthly Father, and also incensed his heavenly Creator, yet his mind melting in humility, provoked the Lord to accustomable pity, so that after long, patiented, and sufficient sufferance, the Lord sent unto him speedy deliverance.  
Draw near you dallying Daddes, that mar the minds of your children, by excessive and overmuch cockering: behold the judgements of God, that punisheth you in those things that you chiefly love, because you make them your Gods, who ought to be their guides, you adore them like saints, which should serve you like Sons, you let them run at liberty, which you ought to keep in straightly, you minister to their needless youth, which should labour for your needful age, you give them all things, and deny them nothing, and yet you complain that your children are graceless, when you yourselves are not therein blameless.  
O Fathers, remember you have been children, remember that in your childhood, the flesh did assail ye, lechery did burn ye, lust did inflame ye, the world did provoke ye, and the devil did tice ye, and sith thou art a Father, and hast been a son, sith thou art old, and hast been young, let not thy child live so in youth, as may make thee weep in age, neither let him so follow his affection, as may cause thee wail thy want of discretion. Hark what the Wise man saith: If thou bring up thy son delicately, he shall make thee afraid: and if thou play 
Eccle. 20.  with him, he shall bring thee to heaviness: laugh not with him, lest thou weep with him also, and lest thou gnash with thy teeth at the last: give him no liberty in his youth, and excuse not his folly, bow down his neck while he is young, high him on the sides, while lie is but a child, lest he wax stubborn, and give no more force of thee, and so shalt thou have heaviness of soul.  
Saint Augustine reciteth a notable example of Cyrillus 
Aug sermo. de d●testatione ●●●●●tatis. ●●●. ●3.  a Citizen of Hiponenses, who having a Son, which he superfluously loved, for that he was his only son he possessed, he brought him up so delicately, that he wanted nothing, but had it of him willingly, denying nothing that he demanded, but granting him all things that he required, being as slow to correct him, as he was loath to displease him: this youth consumed a great part of his father's goods, in luxurious living, (as a number do with us in these days, which frequent the Tavern before the Temple, visit their harlots with letters, before their redeemer with tears, delight rather to sip the cup of their concubine, then to taste of the comfortable cup of Communion:) but behold the glory of foolish Fathers, and mark the fruit of unbridled children: for being one day drunken with as much wine, as his Sire was with superfluous love, he killed his Father weak with age, oppressed his Mother great with child, would have defiled his sisters, and wounded two of them unto death.  
O miserable and detestable imp of the devil: but see here, O fathers: what cometh of your too too foolish affection, & superfluous love, which blindeth your judgement, that you cannot, & will not correct the faults of your children, as the Philosopher saith: Amor et odium sepe faciunt 
1. Rh●.  judicium non cognoscere, Love and hatred oftentimes pervert judgement. The cause of which maketh you to nussel them in such niceness, that they are unfit for labour or study, through corruption of idleness: the Emperor Octavian, set 
Policra. in lib. 6. cap. 4.  his sons & daughters to labour, to the end that they might if fortune failed, obtain a mean to live in honest behaviour: he taught his sons the exercise of chivalry, & his daughters to work in wool painfully. Lycurgus, taught his 
Cicero in lib. Tusenlan. quest.  young children to suffer harm patiently, & to do good willingly. Many examples may be herein inserted, in which I should seem too tedious, if I should prosecute them with prolixity, but because I will not be too long, I will therefore conclude with brevity, showing how this want of correction, and this too fond affection, hath caused Parents to be punished in their children.  
David, for as much as he was too slack in correcting his children's abuses, was therefore plagued in their oppressions, how was he expulsed by Absalon? How was he shamed in Amon? And to be short, Hely for his negligence in not correcting the offences of his children, was punished 
1. Reg. 4.  of God, so that in one day his sons were slain, he broke his neck, and his daughter in law for sorrow thereof, travailed with child and died.  
Boetius reciteth a History of Lucretius, that was nourished 
Boe. in lib. de doctri. scolarim.  up of his father without discipline and correction, until man's state, who consumed his money at dice and harlots, and being many times redeemed by his Father out of prison, fell notwithstanding to ill company and conversation, till on a time being taken for some great offence, and led unto the gallows, his father following him, he requested at the place of execution, that he might speak with his father, and that he might but kiss him before his departure, and feigning the same, most sharply bit of his father's nose, saying: Father, justly by thy means do I suffer this, for hadst thou but corrected me, I never had come to this misery.  
Behold here O fathers, the fruit of slack correction, what foolish pity procureth in graceless children, what little lack of vice, and what great want of virtue, corruption hath sown in the hearts of your younglings, bring not yourselves therefore under the yoke of your children, for your shall find it a painful burden. The Wise man saith, Trust not to their life, nor regard not 
Eccle. 16.  their labours: For common experience teacheth us in these days, that the love of Fathers to their children is very great: but the affection of children to their Parents very small: we see what care Fathers have over the state of their children, and what negligence children have ever their Fathers: and therefore it may be said very well, that love by nature doth descend, but not ascend, it descendeth from the Father to the Son, but it ascendeth not from the son to the Father, wherein the love of the Father appeareth more, and the love of the child less: but what is the cause, that the love of the Father is more effectual to the child, than the child's good will to the Father? the reason is, Quia radix citius putresceret quamque, ramus remitteret sibi influentiam, Because the root shall sooner rot, than the branch shall send back his influence unto it.  
But somewhat to amplify, as well the duty of children, as to qualify the vain affection of Parents. I wish all children, to print this passed pattern in their hearts, and to write the same in the table of their thoughts, that they may learn thereby, to honour their Parents, and to cherish them in their latter years: The Wise man saith, My son, make much of thy Father in his age, & grieve 
Eccle. 3.  him not as long as he liveth. And again: Honour thy Father from thy whole heart, and forget not the sorrowful 
Eccle. 7.  travail thy Mother had with thee. It is written in the book of Tobias: Honour thy Mother all the days of 
Tob. 4.  her life, for thou oughtest to remember, what and how great perils she suffered for thee in her womb. This did that Heathen man Coriolanus remember, of whom Valerius maketh mention, who being Consul of Rome, 
Valer. in lib. 5. cap. 4.  and depressed thereof, being driven into exile by the Romans, went unto the Volscans, of whom being friendly entertained▪ he was made their Captain against the Romans: and after many cities taken, he approached unto Rome, and coming within a thousand paces thereof, they sent unto him Orators from the Senate, to entreat of peace, but he would not hear them: again, they sent their Priests with their Insignes adorned, but he refused them: at the length, his Mother named Veturia, coming to the camp, & being suddenly espied of her son, he cried out. O matter, vicisti iram meam, scio quid vis, O mother, thou hast (saith he) overcome my anger, I know what thou wouldst have: whereof happened peace, only through the love of his mother, insomuch as he said, more hath the love of my mother done, than the strength of the Romans. The Philosopher Aristotle saith: Dijs, parentibus et magistris, 
Arist in lib. Eth. 9  non potest reddi equivalens: To God, to Parents and masters, no man can yield recompense. Valerius rehearseth a notable history, of a mother in Rome, which had a daughter 
Vale. in lib. de subventione filiorum ad Parents.  married, the mother had committed a fault, for which she should be burned, her daughter came to the Emperor with her little child, & bowed her knee, desiring life for her mother: the Emperor said, the case committed required death, & that she was worthy the same: the daughter replied, O mighty Emperor, Princes should be merciful, not suffering their suppliants to departed without comfort, yet, I beseech thee, O Emperor, let not my mother be publiquelis put to death, for how filthy will that be, & how full of confusion, so to die before the people: but if that no pardon may redeem my mother's life, yet grant I beseech thee, that she may be condemned to perpetual prisonment, there to finish her last farewell. The Emperor considering the meekness of the daughter, gave sentence that the mother should be condemned to die in prison, without any nourishment to her given: the daughter yet craved, that she might naked descend unto her mother in the dungeon, which being granted, she visited her mother in this wise, O mother, I came naked out of thy womb, & naked unto thee I do descend, to bring thee bread or food, was not to me permitted, but as I being young did suck thy breast to maintain me, so thou being old, suck mine to sustain thee, thus lived the mother eight days with the milk of her mild daughter: this being shown to the Emperor, how that she was yet living, moved him to wrath, in somuch that he would have slain the Jailer, for that he suffered not her to famish with hunger, who swore that nothing was by him administered to her, the Emperor therefore marked secretly the egress of this kind and loving daughter, and heard her sweet and mild communication, and seeing her giving unto her mother her breasts to suck, commanded this daughter to be drawn forth of prison naked & weeping, & seeing the compassion of the daughter to her mother, said; daughter I give unto thee thy mother, whose tender & entire good will hath deserved her deliverance. A most worthy & rare example, for children in these days to imitate and follow For as saith Raven, Auelle à sole solis radium, et 
Peter Ra●i●▪ quodam sermo.  non lucet, rinum à font et arescit, ramun ab arbore et exiccatur, membrum à corpore, et putrescit, separa filium à devotione paterna, et iam non est filius, sed frater et collega illorum de quibus dicitur, vos ex patre diabolo estis. Take away from the Sun his beams, and it shineth not, from the fountain his river, & it waxeth dry, from the tree his bough, & it will whither, from the body his member▪ & it will rot▪ so separate a son from fatherly love, and then is he no son, but a brother, and a fellow of them of whom it is said, Ye are of your father the devil.  
To conclude, let all children, or they (of what age, state or calling so ever) which have Parents think them worthy of all honour, reverence, love, & fear, endonoring to requite as much as in them lieth (though fully they cannot) the labour & travail, the cost and care, the love & loss, that their Parents have passed for their preservation, that they may say, they have nourished up, no Wolves to worry them, but well-willers to cherish them: that beasts in their nature, exceed not their love, whom reason hath framed, 
Ambrose in exame. hom. 5.  to excel all creatures: As the Storke● that secure their parents in their aged time, recovering them with their wings, supporting them in flying, and also administering to their nurture and necessity.  
Moreover, let them consider but the tender nature and kind affection, that they ought to bear unto them, being strongly urged thereto by reason of their being, for by their Parents they have the same, without whom they had not been. And herein let them consider the careful love, and the notable thankfulness: but of Aeneas (which 
Virgil. ●. Aenid.  may only endure them to careful kindness) who being a noble Prince of the Trojans, disdained notwithstanding (at the subversion of the City, wherein he might have prayed upon great substance) to carry his aged Father, whom (as he was) he counted his greatest treasure, upon his shoulders, and bearing him through the midst of his enemies, from flaming fire and bloody weapons, he cried: Parcite nunc ô Graeci nulla enim erit vobis adoria, si decrepitum senem interfeceritis, mihi vero maxima, si parentem carissimum liberavero: Spare now, O you Grecians, for no glory shall you get, if you kill a crooked old creature, but unto me great glory remaineth, if I shall deliver my dearest Parent. Whose Christian example proceeding but from an Heathenish heart: if children follow; they shall obtain that reward which God hath promised the observers of this commandment, namely, long life upon earth, the which though it be abbreviated in this life (as sometime it happeneth by God's appointment) shall be prolonged and performed in the true life everlasting: in respect whereof, this is but a death, and a continual threatening the change of our mortality.   

❧ The rare virtue of a Maiden, and the singular discretion of a young man, the one in her good and godly government, the other in his wise and prudent choice of his Wife. An excellent example to all Maidens, how they should exercise their golden time: and a perfect platform to young men, not to run rashly to the bait of their pleasures, lest they be caught in the hook of folly, to their own harm and hindrance.  
IN no one action that pertaineth to the life of man, ought there to be so great care, study, or foresight, as in the choice or election of a Wife, because that therein consisteth, either the pleasure or pain, the gain or grief, of him that endeavoureth to enter that state of life, neither may the same once taken in hand and accomplished, be revoked, except by the dissolution of that bond, the destruction (or at least the continual grief) of either part be procured: And therefore, as he that betaketh himself to the Seas, must abide the storms or tempest: or he that entereth wars sustain of life the danger, without reversion, till fortune finish their trouble in bringing a happy end to their taken enterprise: So, who so attempteth marriage without advisement, running rashly upon the recks of their own ruin, and entering the cumbersome conflict of cares, where the gunshot of calamity shall batter their brains, and the assaults of sorrows over master their minds, such must patiently bear the brunt of their own breeding, abiding the bitter blasts of unquiet brawling, till death make a division of their fortunes, by disjointing of their bodies, conglutinate together by the free consent of their heady minds: To avoiding therefore of such dangers, as may be the unsavoury sance of the whole life, it behoveth each wise man to enter the garden of discretion, there to pick out the purest herbs of wisdom, which may serve him as preservatives of knowledge, before choice to make right election, or as plasters of remedy in choice to heal the heart with contentation.  
And that example of right choosing, might appear unto those unskilful in choosing, whose tender years, or hasty heads driveth forward their posting minds, to experience of marriage, before wisdom have taught them what it meaneth: I have briefly, though bluntly laid a platform thereof, in the consequent that followeth unto their open construction.  
There was sometime a rich man, of great possessions, of large revenues and ample substance, having a son, whose wisdom surpassed his father's wealth, whose reason, his richesse, and whose good government, his father's hereditament: so that if the Father were fortunate in his wealth, yet his good hap succeeded in his heir, which more adorned the life of his Father by his virtue, than the same was garnished by his treasure, so that if the same were lucky by the inheritance of the Father, yet was the Father more renowned by the virtue of his son: a great contrariety in the gifts of fortune, for as much as where she commonly giveth wealth, there she withdraweth wisdom, where she yieldeth usually beauty, there she wisdom placeth continency, and where for the most part, she dareth strength, there many times she withholdeth humility, yet here it pleased her to bestow both the one and the other, as a large mistress of her heavenly gifts.  
But as the unchaste mind is never satisfied, nor the dry ground never sufficed, so is the mind of the rich and covetous never contented, but that he daily contriveth how to increase his stock plentifully, how to marry his children wealthily, and how to advance his kindred richly, as this Father, that albeit his own lands and substance were sufficient, to the maintenance of his successive heir, yet his musing mind continually compassed, how to accuimulate and heap up riches for his son, by insinuating this branch of his body, into the stock of some noble kindred of affinity, rather regarding the valour of the presence, than the virtues of the parsonage, more esteeming the wealth, than the wisdom, the dowry, than the deeds, the riches, than the renown: and having espied a match meet to his mind, for muck, though not measured at the meatwand of wisdom, for womanhood, namely, the daughter of a rich Knight, whose pulchritude so pleasant, whose beauty unblemished, whose feature well framed, but chiefly, whose dowry delightful, he thought might content as well the fantasy of his son, as it liked his covetous appetite: broke therefore upon a time with his son, as concerning the same, laying first the beauty of her body, as a bait to allure him, and afterward her treasure, as a trap to train him.  
But he, whose wisdom overwaide his Father's greedy will, considered that the sweetest Cedar in smell, is bitter in scent, that the fairest fruit in touch, is not the best in taste, that the goodliest Oak in sight, is not most sound and safe, nor the richest state, on virtue chiefest stayed.  
But that the Spider may lurk in the Rose, the rotten worm in the fair fruit, the stinging Adder in the green grass, and heaps of vice in high Estate. And therefore discretely answered his Father, that as duty did drive him to esteem his good will, so reason reuokt● him from his unseemly choice, which his fancy grounded on virtue misliked, for that he saw not in her actions, the things that might draw his dear affections. And albeit she were endowed with temporal treasure, concordaunt to her corporal beauty, yet virtue being a habit of the hidden mind, appeared not in her external deeds, the valour whereof, he esteemed above the mass of mouldered muck, for as much as it so far exceeded wealth, as the mind surpasseth the body, and as the superior element, the inferior creature.  
But as the Mole, unto whom the whole meadow is scarcely sufficient, rooting up every furrow of the field, to satisfy her greedy nature, therein destroying the earth, hindering the owner of the ground, and little profiting herself, except in contenting her wasteful mind. So this covetous father, not content with abundance, having his mind as much upon gathering money, as the Mole in rooting the meadow, increasing his riches peradventure by the decay of others, having no profit thereby, except in beholding the same, to suffice his covetous heart: was incensed against his son, in that he condescended not, to the conclusion of his choice which he had made, as much and more to the pleasure of himself, than the affection of his son, considering he had determined the same with the father of the Maiden, the consent of the virgin, but most especially, the agreement of her dowry, the quantity whereof so tickled his hoarding heart, that upon the refusal thereof, he cast his son out of his favour, willing him to avoid his sight, with most bitter threats of his displeasure, loss of his heredetaments, but chiefly, the lack of his blessing.  
Yet this sober youth, giving place to the passions of his Father, and overcoming his anger with quiet sufferance, knew that though the impatience of his Father, was for a time somewhat troublesome, yet time might both appease the same, and yield better fortune unto him, that his Father's covetous mind did wish.  
He well remembered that the herb Scamone, although it be venomous, yet it purgeth collar, though Southernwoodde be unsavoury, yet it expelleth venom, and though Rew be bitter, yet it cleanseth the brain, cleareth the sight, purgeth phlegm, and bringeth many commodities to the body: So thought he, that albeit the avoiding of this match, and the abiding of this brunt be bitter, yet future profit, may repay the same with double pleasure, and therefore to avoid the collar of his Father, to dissipate and make void the devise of his brain, and to accommodate unto himself some better fortune, he fled the sight of his aged Sire.  
And tracing his journey through many a wild wilderness, walking through unknown woods, uncouth paths and weary ways: the Sun withdrawing his lightsome beams, and the night approaching with his duskish clouds, he declined into the house of an aged man, to rest himself after his taken travail.  
And entering into the doors thereof, he found the daughter of the old man (being his only child) with lifted hands, bended knees, and open mouth, yielding praise unto the Lord, for his great benefits bestowed upon her, and making her prayers unto him from the bottom of her heart, to grant her his grace to live in his fear, to the reverence of her Father, the discharge of her duty, and the quiet contentation of her own conscience. A worthy precedent to fire before the face of all modest Maidens: she was not here occupied, neither in trimming her head, in glaring in the glass, in fingering her Lute, in singing of Sonnets, in denising of Letters, in dancing with her Lovers, nor in any such lewd and unseemly pastimes, but like a chaste Virgin, a mild Maiden, and a good Christian, was occupied in heavenly contemplation.  
This routh musing at the rare exercise, and no less admiring at the godly prayers, stepped unto her with friendly salutations, requesting to know whether these divine orations, were her continual study and frequentations, and considering her poverty (which appeared in outward show) how and for what cause she yielded such thanks unto God, for great received benefits.  
The Maiden meekly beholding him a while, although at first abashed with his sudden sight, yet at last, she wisely and discretely framed unto him this answer. Sir, I see you marvel, that my poverty should not be an obstacle to my prayers, for as much as to your judgement, it containeth few worldly benefits: consider with yourself, that as a simple medicine, doth more often cure great diseases, then large compounds curiously framed: so poverty, though in appearance simple, yet to a contented mind, the very schoolmaster of virtue, and the perfect path unto perpetual pleasure, more excellent to the godly, than the glistering state of golden riches, which though in outward appearance it seem glorious, yet is it the hook of hurtful security, covered with the bait of worldly felicity, a log to virtuous life, a stop to quiet state, and the very block, whereby worldlings stumble into the pricking perils of choking cares. And although I am not endued with abundance of worldly treasures, yet do I think that the Lord hath left unto me great riches, in as much as he hath granted me the only company of my aged Sire, unto whom (as in youth) he showed me love, so in age I may yield good will, being unto him in age a staff, that was to me in youth a stay. And think you good Sir (quoth she) that I have received but small benefits at the hands of God, who hath made me a reasonable creature, that might have made me a senseless thing by nature, who hath given to me a soul, that might have constituted me only of a body: who hath made me a christian, that might have made me an infidel, redeeming me by his blood, that might have perished in mine own, & sanctifying me by his spirit, that might have been possessed by the enemy: These caused considered, I do twice every day make my prayers unto the Lord for my soul, as I do twice every day feed my body, lest if I should cherish my body, & not nourish my soul, the one might grow disdainful, and the other sinful, and if I should not thus repay him with thanks, that hath fed me with benefits, I might appear more ungrateful to him for his mercies, than he beneficial for mine undeservings.  
O mirror of maidenhood, O glass of true virginity, O mind endued with modesty, O heart fraught with true humility: See here you gadding girls, that gape after every gaude, and press after each peevish pastime, you that can dance with the daintiest, smile with the smoothest, & laugh with the lewdest, you that wander to weddings, thrust in at theatres, & trip into Taverns, you that take more care to trick your bodies to the pleasure of men, then to deck your souls to the will of God, you that had rather spend two hours at the glass, than a minute at the bible, taking more delight to view your faces, then to behold your consciences, rather hardening your heels with dancing, than your knees with praying. Behold the exercise of this virgin, note her life, and follow her example, begin in virtue, & end in the same, be not like a number of foolish damsels that begin hotly, after a while are luke warm, but in the end stark cold: like to the monster Chimaera, whose upper part was a Lion, whose middle a Goat, but her neither part a Serpent. Be not like to the Jews that bowed their knees unto Christ, and yet buffeted him in the face, neither him that praiseth a man now, and yet slandereth him by & by after: follow not the example of the usurer, who on the one side prayeth, and on the other side notwithstanding taketh usury: but if you will be true prayers, and perseverers in deed, follow this virgin's example, pluck out the rusty yro● out of your wound, before you proceed to take a plaster, and purge your souls of corruption, that you may be healed, and persevere.  
But to return to the sequel of this History. The young man having impressed in his memory, the wise and virtuous answer of this rare and godly Virgin, thought that time thrice happy, that he directed his steps into the doors of this old man, and passing the time with her in common conference: found her wisdom such, and her government so godly, that his affections which before were his own, were now alienated and estranged from him so far, as his whole delight was fixed how to draw unto him her good liking, purposing not to pass any further, till he had made a trial of her good will: and although the consideration of her poverty, might some what discourage him from his pretended choice, yet thought he, that greater riches could not remain in any, than the true possession of a virtuous mind, the which he found to be so abundantly placed in the breast of this young Maiden, as he thought it as hard to find her match, as to get a black Swan.  
By this her father (who usually after supper, walked abroad into the fields) returned home, and finding a guest in his house more then either he knew or expected, was not a little abashed, for as much as through the suspicion of his poverty, his poor cottage was but smally frequented, yet being wise and well acquainted with courtesy, bade him welcome: unto whom this young man, after humble thanks for his good entertainment, requested of him that he might but find so much friendship at his hands, as for his money to tarry and refresh himself in his house, till he were more apt and able to pass forth the rest of his unknown journey.  
Unknown journey (quoth the old man) why, are you out of your way good Sir (saith he) or know you not the name of the place whereunto you are bend, either have you forgotten the same, or did you never heretofore travail this ways.  
Good father (saith the young man) for so both your age and state requireth, I am not out of my way, but rather in the same, & thrice happy do I think myself, that fortune guiged me into this path: the name of this place I never knew, and therefore have I not forgotten the same, neither did I ever before travail this way, but I so bide mine unknown journey, in as much as I am ignorant, whether it will please you to grant me abiding within the compass of your cottage, which if you do, then is not my journey unknown, but at an end, for as much as since my arrival at your house, I have found the place, which I hope fortune decreed I should achieve.  
Gentleman (quoth the old man) what good hap is that, that you harp on so much, that hath guided you hither, I know not, but if you shall receive any good by the means of your coming hither, I shallbe right glad of the same, as for the use of my poor cottage, although it be but simple, & not worthy your entertainment: yet lest I should seem to deny you the same, use both it and me I beseech you at your pleasure, taking such fare as you find and see, agreeable to my poor state and calling.  
Good father (quoth the other) the good I have got, and the lucky hap I have had since my coming, I shall in time to come (I hope) make known unto you, in the mean while, I am to yield you most hearty thanks, that being a stranger altogether in these parts, you have notwithstanding deigned to proffer me such courtesy, as greater can I not find among my best acquaintance, and as for your fare, were it never so simple, if I should mislike the same, proceeding from a frank and willing heart, I might be counted an ill guest, that would esteem more of the meat than the man or more of your fare then of your faithful heart, I account the dwelling good, that is not dangerous, and the cheer great that is willingly bestowed.  
Gentleman (saith the old man) the good behaviour and courtesy that I see apparent in your outward habit, maketh me to judge thereby, the manners of your inward mind, and therefore your none acquaintance, is quitted by your modest demeanour, for virtue maketh a stranger unto every wise man a familiar, neither have I ever seen that young man heretofore, unto whom mine eye, upon so small acquaintance, hath drawn my heart more nearer, and therefore I & my poor cottage are to use at your pleasure, tarry your time, and departed at your leisure.  
Thus tarried this youth in the house of this old man, noting the outward poverty of the Father, and the inward virtue of the Daughter, no less musing at the one, then marveling at the other: but especially, the Virgin's godly government, her modest manners, her words placed with wisdom, her looks without lust, and her deeds ruled by discretion, so that it seemed unto him, that her life was a lamp to the lend, a lantorne to the lose, and a light to the lascivious, governed by grace, ruled by reason, and bridled with the bit of God's holy word, wherein he saw her so continually occupied, that her whole delight seemed to be placed in the meditation thereof.  
On the other side, the old father marking the godly life of this young man, noting his courteous gesture, his wisdom, his humility, his sobriety, his speeches familiarly spoken, yet wisely placed, his mind stored with mirth, yet used with modesty, his contentive mind, his patiented sufferance, his earnest prayers for his Father, though he might have grudged at his unkindness. And knowing his Father, his kindred and friends, yet more regarding his virtue, than his fortune, or any part of his hoped wealth, was won unto such an inward affection towards him, as he studied how to bring that to pass, which the young man did most secretly desire.  
Noting also, the honest and mutual friendship, the virtuous and faithful love, that daily increased in the minds of these two younglings, he thought that match could not be made a miss, where love was the beginning, and virtue was the end, and therefore breaking one day the matter unto his daughter, was desirous to know the affections of her mind, at which he aimed by the dispositions of her body, and she whom simplicity had nourished with the milk of truth, having her face stained with the vermilion of virtue, with blushing countenance revealed that love, which her outward gestures could not conceal, desiring therein the consent of her father's mind, from whose body she had received the substance of her being, showing him that she was more drawn to love him by the view of virtue, than any affection dimmed with the vail of vanity, requesting him, that as he had been a Father of her body, in giving to her those things necessary for her use, so he would be also a governor of her life, in not denying her him whereon her joys did rest: which the good old man did as willingly grant, as she did heartily desire, persuading her that as she had been a comfortable staff to stay up the weight of his aged limbs, so he would be a careful father in providing her a mate agreeable to her mind, as soon as time would permit the accomplishment of the same.  
Shortly after the old father espying an apt occasion to perform his promise, broke with the young man in the demand of this match, requesting of him to know, how he liked the rude demeanour of his daughter, and for as much as he had moved the question of marriage unto her, of which she had certified him at large, was desirous to know what he saw in her, that should draw him to liking of so unseemly a choice, persuading him, that if he shot at wealth▪ in steed thereof he should find want, for as much as his state could yield no supply to his necessity, but if he aimed at virtue, he thought her able to bring him a sufficient dowry, in that his study had been, to make her therewith sufficiently endued.  
The young man replied unto him, that he gaped neither after gold nor goods, for as much as he saw by sufficient appearance, that there was no such gain to be gased after, within the compass of his cottage, but that he had found already an inestimable treasure, in an obscure corner, the possession whereof, if it pleased him he might quietly enjoy, he acknowledged himself richer than Croesus', and his substance more than all the golden sands of Pactolus, or the silver streams of Ganges, more happier in his conquest then Alexander, and far more more fortunate than Polycrates.  
This good old man (espying the virtuous end of this young man's desire, and seeing that virtue was the only mark whereat he did Jevell the shot of his affections) could not any longer dissemble his hidden state, neither the good will that he bore to his virtuous mind, & therefore taking him apart into a privy corner of his cottage, he showed him a huge sum of gold & silver, not gathered by his care (who was rather addicted to contemplation, then to heaping of treasure,) but bequeathed by the death of her Uncle, a man of great substance, who noting the hope of her virtuous heart, that shined forth in the image of her face, delivered to her Father to keep for her use, a homely coffer in outward show, farced within full of gold and silver, all which (for so much as he saw, he desired not wealth, but wisdom, nor the body of his daughter, but her mind) he gave him, calling unto him his only child, and joining their hands with the free consent of their joyful hearts, he blessed them, praying God, that as virtue was the beginning of their love, so it might be the end of the same, that they might live together here in all godliness and felicity, and end their days in peace and tranquility, that such issue might spring of their seed, as might be the common wealth's commodity, to their comfort and God's glory.  
Thus lived they together in all honesty, godliness, and quietness, breaking all brawls with humility, & quieting every discord by love, the one not being proud through rule, the other not checking her husband for wealth, look what he liked, she loved, look what he loathed, she lusted not after, in pleasure she would be his partner, in sorrow his companion, her honest mirth was his melody, and her friendly heart his harmony, in health his delight, and in sickness, his Physician, and in brief, the pillar of his life, and the only pattern of a virtuous wife.  
O how many wives have we in our City, that follow not the example of this Damsel, but rather run with main strength the contrary way, whose lives if they were noted, would rather deserve a sharp invective, than a plausible praise, against whom I will not inveigh, lest I might be rather unjustly accused of some of envy, than thought to write of judgement and experience. I will therefore strike sail in such a tempest, rather than striving with contrary winds, run against the rocks of women's venomous tongues, and so put in peril the ship of my safety, accounting this only example sufficient to encourage the good, and to gaul the wicked, the one burning with the praise of virtue, the other blushing at the want thereof.  
Wherefore, let all Maidens learn by this Virgin's example, how to wear out their golden time of virginity, not by spending the same in wantonness, wildness, l●senesse and liberty, but in shamefastness, discreetness, chasteness, and sobriety, which as Valerius saith, is, Custos castitatis, The preserver of chastity. Moreover, let them be silent, not coveting by words rather to be seen, & so to show their eloquence, then by shamefastness to declare their honest silence, as a number do in these days, who make their tongues sweet instruments, to delight the ears of trifling talkers, & count it a great gain to flourish in glorious speech, so that if nature had made them for that use, I think some of them would prove gallant Orators to plead, and as subtle Sophisters to deceive.  
Let them learn also to keep their feet from gadding, and to exercise themselves at home in virtuous doing, of which, the one will blot their good name with infamy, but the other adorn their life with glory.  
This Maiden's modesty may be their mirror, and her government a glass for their behaviour, how to consume their time in godliness and prayer, and to bridle their lose affections from vicious demeanour, whose example if they imitate, they shall find more faithful lovers of their virtue, then foolish doters on their beauty, more suitors for their honesty, than lykers of their braucrie: and above all, they shall be sure that God will provide them such husbands, as shall be trusty lovers, and honest livers.  
But for so much as I promised in the Exordium of this history, to set down somewhat, whereby the unskilful youth may be warned, how to make a right choice in the choosing of a Wife, or having chosen, how their life may be spent in quietness, I will briefly perform it, and so draw to an end.  
chrysostom, persuadeth him that will marry, to censider 
Super. Math.  whether the Parents be both good, or both evil, or whether the one be good, and the other evil: if they be both good, then may he safely make choice of her, if both evil, then to refuse her: if the one be good, & the other evil, then may he be doubtful what to do: yet if the Father be good, and the mother dishonest, unquiet, or without government, he ought rather to fear, than contrariwise: and the reason is, because Maidens have been more accustomed to be conversant with their Mothers, then with their Fathers: and therefore more inclined to follow their manners, whereupon rose the proverb, Qualis matter talis filia, Such a moher, such a daughter.  
But especially let him beware that intendeth to marry, that these things concur and meet together, namely, that in their states there be an equality, for where there is no equality of condition, there can be no quietness of life, for as much as two contraries are never found in one subject, nor one heart in two contrary fortunes, for wealth in a woman without wisdom, & poverty in a man without great government, do never make up a quiet marriage.  
Moreover, let there be a likeness in their manners, and a unity in their minds, lest if there affections be variable, they become separable: for where there is no likeness in manners, there can be no soundness in friendship: where is no soundness in friendship, there is no faithfulness in love: where is no faithfulness in love, there may be no quietness of life, and where the life is unquiet, there is the life but a death, and the marriage a misery.  
But above all, seeing that Natura nihil solitarium amat, And that those that have not the gift of continency must marry, (albeit that in marriage are many discommodities, yet of evils the least is to be chosen, For better it is to marry, then to burn in fleshly desires:) let every wise man have a special regard therefore, that her Parents be honest, she virtuous, and therewithal Religious, seeing that the lack of Religion is the want of good life, and the open gap to all ungodliness, and surely, this lack of foresight in choice, leadeth many a man to ill chance, making the whole life unsavoury, that else might be spent in sweet and pleasant quietness, and ended in mirth, joy and happiness.  
In brief therefore, good education is better in a Maiden than riches, albeit I will not dissuade any man from profit, so it be not wholly respected: for I deny not, but that wealth & wisdom may be coupled, and virtue and riches conjoined, that there may be as much vice in needy poverty, as pride in glistering riches, for Marcus Cato had a wife, who although she were poor, yet was she proud, pontifical & peevish: yet is a poor Maiden virtuous, better than a rich that is vicious, and poverty with glory, is better than riches with infamy.  
But now to use Apostrophe, to those that are married, as in the choice of a wife, there is to be used discretion, so must thou govern her by mildness and wisdom, austerity of words, must be mingled with gentleness of speech: fear must in her be turned into love, and bitterness in thee, into sweetness of behaviour, seeing that she was not made of the head nor the foot, but of the rib and side of man, which showeth, that as she may not be a mistress, so must she be no maid, as no sovereign, so no servant, but an equal companion, and a friendly fellow, to participate with thee of every fortune.  
With this mildness of government, must be matched, secrecy of chastisement, that every fault be not openly corrected, nor every offence public detected, every light fault must not be found, nor every infirmity sharply noted, for as a discord in music, being a harsh and unpleasant stroke of mixed sounds, sharp and flat, is unpleasaunt to the tunable ear: So the public disagréement of couples, being an unsavoury noise of jarring words, is grievous to the honest godly mind, therefore if any occasion of offence fall out, (as it cannot choose but even among the best, it may sometimes happen, for, unicuique dedit vitium natura creato, To every one that lives, hath nature given a fault,) there ought to be great circumspection, that it be not only reproved, lest a small offence unwisely handled, breed a gall in the mind, and a grief in the heart.  
Last of all, accustom thyself to friendliness in speech, and lovingness in communication, to honesty of life, and virtuousness of manners, that going before in government of life, she may follow in obedience of behaviour, let thy life be a lantorne to light her, and a guide to lead her, an example of virtue, and a pattern of honest demeanour, that she beholding thy virtue, may imitate thee in every godly action. These notes duly observed, will profit thee in singleness, and ease thee in wedlock, make thy whole life delightful, and thy death joyful, that departing from the shadow of this short life, a good conscience may accompany thee to the life eternal, and a good name remain for thy eternal memory. Amen.  
FINIS.