THE accomplished Woman.  
WRITTEN ORIGINALLY in FRENCH, since made ENGLISH, BY The Honourable, Walter Montague, Esq;.  
LONDON, Printed for GABRIEL BEDELL and THO. COLLINS, at the Middle Temple Gate in Fleetstreet, 1656.   

To the Duchess of BUCKINGHAM Her Grace.  
Madam,  
IF ye could see yourself without the help of a reflex, I should not need to present you with this glass, but since even internal speculations result most from outward intuitions in this mirror of an Accomplished woman, you may let yourself into yourself at your eyes, and so fit them with an object proportionable to their own beauty: and only thus could I lessen the distance between my obligations and my services, by an exact account of you to yourself, since it is so hard for you to take it from our sex, which are auditors in the valuation of yours, because the loveliness of your person may expose even a true estimate of your virtues to your suspicion of passion. This is the only ill office, Madam, your body can do your mind, which it doth by so fair means, that you may easily forgive it. The original of this Woman is French, whose perfection must needs fall some degrees, in this change of the Horizon. You, Madam, are in English the Edition, as well as the Dedication, and your actions do translate better this book, than my words; so that this cannot inform your understanding in any new unacquired grace or virtue, but by a duplication of your memory, convince your modesty of a needless desire to improve; and as your conversation may be instruction for others, so this which was meant for edification, is but strict enough for your entertainment. Here (Madam) you shall find Ill both severely reproved, and fairly shamed, by showing the excellency of good in Ill's greatest brag, Variety: and shame doth not only restrain, but rectify more than fear; For women apprehend less the effusion of blood for punishment, than the diffusion of it for shame. Here you shall find humours as well mixed and shadowed by one another, as ever you saw colours; and so much diversity in love's archery, as one would think Cupid shot out of a rainbow. Each several humour hath a point to fasten on its correspondency, therefore there is no wondering at the seeming extravagancy of passions.  
Here (Madam) I conceive, you may learn by reading, what you cannot so easily by conversation, because nobody dares tell it you, when anybody is in love with you; which you may be assured of, when you find a judicious admirer of an accomplished Woman; and this Rule is their protection as well as their discovery. I (Madam) may be an admirer of this Woman in French, but an excuser of this in the language of  
Your grace's most Humble and Obedient Servant, WALTER MONTAGUE.   

The CONTENTS.  

Of cheerfulness and Melancholy, 1  
Of Reputation. 19  
Of Inclination to virtue, chiefly to the Devotion of the times. 30  
Of Chastity and Complacency. 38  
Of Courage. 47  
Of Prudence and Discretion. 56  
Of Knowledge and Ignorance. 65  
Of Constancy and Fidelity. 72  
Of Curiosity and Censure. 83  
Of a Debauched Woman. 88  
Of the Cruelty and Pity of Women. 95  
Of Beauty. 102  
Of gracefulness. 109  
Of clothes and Ornaments. 116  
Of jealousy. 123    

THE accomplished WOMAN.  

Of Cheerfulness and Melancholy.  
THe Noblest design that we can propose to ourselves in conversation, is to have such a kind of wit as makes us acceptable, and by a welcome violence acquires us a command as powerful as pleasing. A cheerful humour is more advantageous for the attaining of this, than a Melancholy; which indeed is not unfit for knowledge, but is too heavy for Discourse, and too gross for delicacies and sharp returns. Cheerful humours are gracefuller and freer in all they do, and so are welcomer to all Companies; as more natural in their affections, and less constrained in their behaviour, and more innocent in their designs and thoughts. Notwithstanding all that can be said in favour of the Melancholy, if their thoughtfulness be commendable in something, it hath as many ill effects as good; and those that call it the Mother of wisdom, must confess also that it is often too of Extravagancy. They would persuade us, that their wits make many discoveries, and that they reach far in their Meditations: But sometimes too their journey is so long, as they never come home again; or if they do return, 'tis like Pilgrims, that leave their own country, to wander idly in strange ones, without any advantage, but to bring from thence poverty and weariness.  
Thinking is a Labyrinth where one may be easily lost, and is hardly to be got out of; yet the Melancholy call it the Element of good Wits; believing to excuse their own weakness by giving it a brave name. But as lame men cannot brag, if after the expense of a great deal of time and labour, they get a little way; so these musing Wits deserve no praise, for being long a seeking, what quicker find sooner, and with more ease. Readier Wits have the same advantage of them, as Birds have of Serpents, or Angels of Bodies and materiality But chiefly, I cannot conceive why they glory in speaking little; because their silence comes rather from barrenness then discretion; and if they hold their peace in many occasions, 'tis not so much to choose words, as to seek them. Such persons would have easily been good Disciples of Pythagoras, but that they holding their peace by command, would not have been capable also of learning to speak handsomely. They should have a School quite contrary to these Philosophers, to learn the faculty they want; they had more need of Physicians and broths, then of Tutors; they must not only have Lessons read them to cure them, but Miracles wrought upon them. Just as Fire can easier descend, than Earth ascend; so hasty humours may be moderated by reading and experience; but gross and heavy ones can hardly with what pains soever be taken, be made lively and subtle. Though Birds have wings to fly, yet they can truss them up when they will, to ease themselves; transcendent. Wit's can do so for action or rest: but when the Melancholy ones strive to animate their languishings, they run Icarus his hazard, that was too material, and had not skill enough to fly upon artificial wings. Their Discourse and their Arguments are ungracious, when they force themselves to express in them a heat that is not natural to them. They are like some old men, that run when they think they walk, and get not forward but by chance; and after the least straining of themselves, are suddenly out of breath, in stead of wiselyer fitting their pace to their weakness. The most part of these sick ones glory in the disapprobation of ordinary company, seeking to persuade the credulous, that nothing but affairs of that importance (Which heretofore the Senators consulted with the Gods about) can serve them for discourse: But to believe that their coldness should be so excellent at that, it should seem, one must be of the same humour, to make that conclusion; If ever it prove happy that way, it's more by chance then art. If quick Wits be accused of snatching too soon at opportunity, Melancholy ones are in danger of making use of it too late: and if those stay not till it present itself; these oftententimes think not of it till it be past: they are inclining to fear and despair; as they want heat, so they are unactive, and their frozen humour figures almost all things impossible either to avoid or undertake. It is a Lethargine feeling, not to be perceived but by a wound, by blows and violence; they seem rather resuscitated then waked; they are sick ones, that one must almost kill, to know they are not dead. If they have judgement to deliberate, they have almost no confidence to resolve, and yet less courage to execute. It is a palsy-virtue, that must be thrust into occasions, and that lies languishing by the remedies, without applying them, unless it be drawn to them by fear. It were to do them too much wrong, not to believe that there be many wise and honest persons of that temper: but we must affirm too, that it is too injurious to wisdom and virtue, to keep them always in a study or musing, as though those that neither fear nor wish any thing beyond themselves, should not show a cheerful countenance, to witness the satisfaction of their conscience. On the contrary, if Serpents engender in still waters, ill thoughts are nourished in musing humours; and if their Wits be fit to invent knaveries, their Face is no less to cover them. When rust is got into the Spring of a Clock, there is no more regularity in the motions, nor certainty in the point. When once a continual thoughtfulness possesseth us, the mind is disquieted and the face distorted: what light or reason can one believe to be, where there is nothing but black fumes, which Melancholys sends up to the brain? Just as evil spirits join with storms to destroy Men, to burn Temples; so do they often make use of this black humour to cherish in the soul superstition, despair and hypocrise. Caesar mistrusted more the melancholy humour of Brutus and Cassius, than the mirth of Dolabella. Notwithstanding, if coldness be only an effect of this constitution, it deserves excuse or pity: but if it proceeds from art, it cannot be exempted from suspicion and blame. And to examine well the difference between these two humours, the modesty of women that are naturally free is in all their heart, and that of the affected ones is only in their faces and outside; the one are not good in effect; the other ill only in show. Suppose that Casuists may rightly say of sports and pass-times, as Physicians judge of Mushrooms, that the best are nought: notwithstanding that, pleasures that are of themselves indifferent, and that the intention may make good, may not be absolutely cried down: St. Elizabeth of Hungary did not forbear dancing, and her good humour did not impeach her canonisation. Those that are so nice in the use of lawful things, are ordinarily very free in the enjoying of forbidden, when they are free from witnesses. And it is the misfortune of these times, that people put on so much colouring and studiedness, that one dares not so much as laugh without giving occasion of suspicion to weak spirits, or censure to wicked; as if a merry humour were an infallible foreteller of the illness of the mind. There be some Stipocondriaques, that can endure mirth no more than owls can daylight; and indeed, their faces presage somewhat so ominous, that it raiseth rather horror than inclination. They that will maintain their own good humour without any constraint for the vulgar error, should chiefly keep themselves free from Desire or Sorrow, as from the greatest Tyrants over our quiet; for the one transports us to what is to come, and the other brings us back to what is past; taking from us the liberty of settling our happiness in our present content, as long as we either desire what is not yet, or lament in vain that which is no longer. Strong wits easily resist this tyranny: As when ships are tossed even in the height of the storm, the Needle keeps always straight upon its Star, though the Masts break, and the Sails tear; So we should always be even in the greatest inequality of our business. And if the winds can cast off the Ship from the Port, not the Needle from its Pole: So when it happens that misfortunes retard our pretention, they should notwithstanding never remove us from our reason and constancy. It is fit always to avoid Melancholy, what pretence soever it hath, as too troublesome to others, and too prejudicial to ourselves; for if it be natural, we humour too much such a temper; if it be casual, we yield too much to the inconstancy of Fortune.  
After having told what I like in a Merry humour, 'tis time to examine what I find fault within it: And since we have marked out those defects which many ascribe to Melancholy, let us set ourselves to speak the good effects and commendations of it. 'Tis that which renders our spirits subtle for knowledge, indefatigable for business, serious in conversation, constant in their designs, modest in good fortune, patient in ill, judicious and rational in all things. 'Tis with this just temper that virtue clothes herself to appear with all her ornaments; and it is that which Nature hath chosen to make Kings and Philosophers of; and that Grace itself hath always employed to bestow on the world extraordinary portions. Those of this humour seem to be born wise, and that Nature gives them more than th'others can acquire by study; and that without the incommodity of age, they are possessed betimes of the maturity of it. Indeed, their meditation is sometimes better than their discourse; but as their judgement is solid, they despise that superfluous gloss which light wits set out to get opinion among the vulgar. In this modesty they resemble the Eagle in the Apocalypse, that had lights hidden within, and had eyes under her wings; whereas great talkers have them only in their feathers, as Peacocks have them on their train, being rational only in colour and appearance. I deny not but merry humours have a kind of pleasantness in them, but they are subject also to great faults, because if jests (which they ordinarily exercise themselves in) be well received of some, they offend more than they please, especially when Religion or Reputation are made their subject, it is the easiest thing in the world to turn them into impiety or scandal. Points of wit are fine in discourse; but we must take heed they be not so sharp as to draw blood; or otherwise, since one cannot jest on great ones without indiscretion, nor on the miserable without cruelty; so that one must always offend against the laws of Policy or Nature, Serious wits do well to abstain from such a practice, which most commonly makes those that use it pass for buffoons or enemies; and gives themselves at last occasion to cry, after they have presented one for others to laugh: For my part, I think it not injury to Melancholy humours, to affirm, they have no inclination to so idle a quality, which supposeth almost always a lightness of wit, and often a looseness of conscience. It was of this windy temper that the foolish Virgins were of; and that those are of yet, which have more wit than judgement; which notwithstanding seem at first to have some light, but it is such as is either false, or else lasts not long ere it be extinguished, letting itself be surprised for want of prevision enough in matters of importance. Whereas the wise do never so much as slumber, when they should be ready upon good or ill accidents, for fear of being reduced to repentance and shame. And to take things as they are, since the soul and senses have a quarrel that must last as long as our life, and that the mind is strongest in the weakness of the body, as in the ruin of an enemy; it is likely that when the humour is so gay and free, that is become the stronger; on the contrary, when it is sad and pensive, it is made a slave to Reason, as a maid that hath a discontented face when her Mistress chides her. The joy that riseth from the Conscience is not of this kind, 'tis purer, and is like the Stars, that appear always the same; but that which comes from the body or constitution, is like Comets, that draw their nourishment from below, from the exhalations of the Earth, which presage only woeful events, and seem to leap into the air to run after vapours that nourish them, till they go out for want of that terrestrial matter: The passion of the Melancholy ones hath no such thing as these tragic Meteors to form or preserve itself: their love hath no pretention beyond the possession of the spirit; so as their fire is most pure, it remits not the heat, it remains always equal, like that which the Philosophers believe to be under the Orb of the Moon. I confess, that for affection, quick and lively humours are readier and franker; but then the Melancholy are the discreeter and more confident: these fasten themselves constantly to their designs, whilst the other change every moment; their passions fitting themselves to all objects that are presented them, if not out of malice, 'tis out of weakness; and though their simplicity may deserve some excuse; yet sure it is not reasonable that one should value much a natural goodness, that is rather an effect of the Constitution, than the Election: one that cannot easily do ill, may not glory in being good: if the simple do not much harm, they are not the better for that, since they do as much as they know how. And to allege, that if they be not the better, yet they are the happier, because their spirits are as free from disquiet, as void of design; indeed this is the greatest reproach can be made them, to speak thus of them; since it is to ground all their felicity upon their defects, and to confess them happy only by their ignorance or stupidity. Because Marble feels no pain, we do not say, it is in good health; we do not call it healthful, but insensible. 'Tis thus that the simple are not unhappy, as the want of sense secures them; and it is no great advantage to them to be exempt from care or disquiet, as Stones are from diseases, or Beasts are from contrition. If the stupid find themselves sometimes at the same point of tranquillity of spirit as the Philosophers, 'tis in a different way; these overcome, what those understand not: Snakes under ground are as safe from storms, as the Serpent in the sky; low spirits find security as well as they in crawling, safety in weakness: but it is much a braver thing to be above, then below the storm, to have it under our feet, then over our heads: Since true felicity cannot be attained without virtue, and without morality, the happiness of the silly ones is of a far different nature from that of the wise: and (Methinks) they are happy in this world, but as infants without Baptism are in the other world, in a Limbus, where they subsist between good and ill, without being affected with either. The Melancholy live not in this indifferency, they owe not their felicity to ignorance, but to the force of their wits; they would be ashamed of such a happiness, and would complain of it, if they were enjoined to purchase an exemption from the sense of ill, by an insensibility of good.  
To know how much Melancholy is superior to other humours, we must consider that those that have but the hasty and light part of it, are not less incapable of resisting misfortunes, then of tasting true delights. Their heat precipitates them into extremities; they do nothing but by fits; and as if they were composed of sulphur and gunpowder, the least spark fires their actions & thoughts, for which there is no remedy but to stay till the end of that impetuosity, which is quickly weary, and likely puts out itself. Those spirits that have no conduct in their understandings, have also no courage in their afflictions; they are ill soldiers, that use their buckler as ill as their sword. The same lightness which makes them rash in their assaults, renders them as yielding or impatient when they come to suffer or defend themselves. On the contrary, the Melancholy, that by a profound meditation, and a long habit of reasoning, have as it were formed to themselves a certain knowledge of the success of all things, are never surprised with ill events. This stoical virtue (Essential to their temper) easily masters all those tumultuous and unruly motions that agitate violent spirits: the solidity of their judgements lets nothing be new or extraordinary to them, both for the diseases of the body, which they curb as wild Beasts, when they cannot tame: and for the distempers of the mind, which are the Passions, which they subdue by force of reason, and so remain always victorious.  
If heretofore there hath been a man so bold as to stab the Duke of Milan in the midst of his Guard, in the face of his Court, nay in the Church, (the reverence and respect of the place, the glorious and awful majesty which God imprints on the sacred face of Princes not being able to give him the least sense of horror or apprehension, in a purpose as detestable, as difficult to execute) only by having often practised upon the picture of this Prince: What boldness will not providence afford the wise? since this Parricide, by having only studied a little while such a design, the very thought of which was enough to shake into a trembling every moment, both his hand and his conscience, testified so much assurance and resolution.  
We should not wonder if the Melancholy are so constant, and that we never see them troubled, even when they are constrained to yield to necessity; since they keep a secret retreat within themselves, whither the storms of Fortune cannot reach. 'Tis thither where the soul retires to maintain herself in an eternal serenity, where she obtains an absolute Empire over her opinions, where she entertains herself solitarily even in the midst of company, and the crowd of the world interrupts not her repose and silence: 'Tis in this solitude of the superior part, that the mind fortifies itself, and learns true morality, and where she advanceth to herself almost without time or experience, the providence of old Men, and the wisdom of Philosophers. Lastly, 'Tis here, where if we lay up the Images of pleasant things, by these means we may furnish ourselves always with fair thoughts; for if the pleasing Objects displease us, we may, coming back into ourselves, content our spirits while our senses are persecuted, and entertain our fancy with Beauty at the same time when Deformity takes up our eyes. But who can praise enough this noble thoughtfulness of the melancholy? since it is by that the soul seems to rid herself, when she pleaseth, of the troublesome commerce with the senses; and we consider with an intention less distracted, what we are, when our imagination reflects us to ourselves more clearly, and with less danger than the lovely Fountain did to Narcissus. I wonder not, that the Poets fain that he lost himself, since he looked for himself out of himself: We are to be found truly nowhere but in ourselves, everywhere else we meet but with our fantasme or our shadow. And therefore many have reason to say, That Meditation is harder than ecstasy, as its easier to go out of ourselves, then to re-enter into them, without the use of this noble thoughtfulness, to which the temper of Melancholy is disposed. Man seems to have but an imperfect reason, and even an useless: For as Bees must retire themselves to make the honey, when they have gathered the matter from flowers; so it is necessary, that after we have surveyed many objects, we should make a regress into ourselves, to gather their fruit, and to draw from them conclusions; otherwise all the study or experience we can have, will be but a confusion or mixture, it would be wealth that we should be ill husbands of; our actions would be misguided, our thoughts without order, and our discourse without judgement.  
The most part of gross spirits are of a quite contrary opinion, and cannot imagine pensiveness to be any thing but such a trans, as mad men or sick persons are in; this kind of meditation would hurt them as much as it frights them, and would be as contrary to them as unpleasing: It dazzles weak spirits, and vexeth malicious ones; it is the blind of the one, and the torment of the other: it is not like, that they that have nothing in their minds but ignorance, or in their conscience but crimes, should be much pleased to look into themselves to seek there satisfaction or rest: But to despise pensiveness, because many lose themselves in it, is it not to condemn the use of fire and water, for some incommodities they have, without considering their necessity for our life? I had as lief blame the Sun, because Owls cannot endure the brightness of it, which Eagles look upon so fixedly; as if one should quarrel with the Light, because weak eyes are dazzled with its beams, and because they draw darkness even from the spring itself of Light.  
There is enough said for the Apology and praise of Melancholy, and for fear of being tedious in the Problem, if I should go on, since both Humours have somewhat good and ill in them, I have nothing to add, but that they should serve for remedies to one another: For the Romans accounted them best among the Tribunes that were most inclined to the Senate, and those the wisest among the Senators, that favoured most the Party of the People; to divert on the one side authority from tyranny, and on the Other, liberty from insolence. So it seems, that the most excellent of the Merry humour, are those that draw nearest to Melancholy; and amongst the Melancholy, they that confine closest to the Merry; for being so tempered, the first will be discreeter, and the other less austere and troublesome.   

Of Reputation.  
REputation is a great Treasure, and is no less useful to virtue, then light to Pictures, to set them off; it is the fairest ornament of our civil Life, and without which, the most glorious and illustrious actions remain smothered and obscured: But as it is got and lost now a days, it may be reckoned among the benefits of Fortune, of which fools have often a better share than deserving persons. If it were to be distributed by good judges, virtue would suffice for the acquisition of it; but it hath often so ill Arbitrators, that were we not bound by all means possible to avoid Scandals, worthy persons might content themselves with the testimony of their own Conscience, without being troubled for the Opinions of the unadvised, which chance may make good or ill. Opinion depends too little on ourselves to make us unhappy, and it were a felicity very unsure, that the ignorance or malice of an Enemy could remove.  
Fame is sometimes an effect that seems to have no cause, and is raised like those alarms that disorder a whole Army, without any bodies conceiving the occasion. Why then should we spend our spirits with so much unquietness, to know how we stand in the opinion of others, and afflict ourselves for the error of the vulgar; as if the ignorant began but now to deceive themselves, and belie others. I should have reason to wonder with Aristotle, why the Ancients rewarded rather the strength of the body than mind, giving laurels to wrestlers, and not to Wise men; but that ignorance and poverty disenabled them to set a prize of virtue: Ignorance, because having the foundation and roots in the heart, Men abuse themselves in their judgements of virtue Poverty, because when we perceive the excellency of it, there is nothing in the world precious enough to serve for the recompense or Coronation. The unadvised conceive often virtue, where there is nothing but Vice, and without thinking what they do, give ill-favoured names to lovely things; like Astronomers, that call some Stars bulls and Scorpions, that notwithstanding have neither fury nor venom, only purity and light.  
I could wish that those that undertake to judge of things without well understanding the nature of them, were punished with such a correction as Midas, that (as Ovid reports) did prefer the noise of Pan's rustic Field-pipe, before the sweet ravishing tunes of Apollo's Lute, giving his voice to that which made most noise. His judgement is like many of these times, that value every thing by the colour and looks, deserving no less than he, to wear long Ears for a mark of their stupidity, and indeed to make more account of apparency than reality; is it not to prefer Pan before Apollo? a Pipe before a Lute? Noise before Harmony? There is much brutality in such savage opinions; yet notwithstanding they are the greatest number in the world, and 'tis they that defame those that deserve a fair estimation: Therefore I would reserve my sensibleness only for those that may justly award reproach or praise, and would not think it fit to be angry at that, which I should laugh at. There are very few competent judges of things; many men's Wits go no further than their Eyes, and stay upon the colours: And I think that avoiding scandals, 'tis enough to scape their imputations, without seeking their approbation.  
We are in an age of bravery and show, where morality is thrown down, and where the virtues of the times consist no more in any thing but excess and extravagancy: to be believed devout, we must go as far as superstition or hypocrisy; and politic spirits use Christianity as the stoics did Philosophy, to abuse the vulgar, forming to themselves imaginary virtues, which humanity cannot attain to. It is a great unhappiness that there is no honesty left in commerce, nor purity in Religion; and that we, as well as they in the Exchange, must overvalue ourselves above what we are worth, or hope for, to keep up our credits.  
But to speak my opinion, rather as a Philosopher than a Disputant, we must not conclude, that Reputation is to be neglected, because it is ill distributed: This disorder doth not dispense with us for our duty; and it were as ungracious to make ourselves infamous for that reason, as to commit murders or robberies, because there have been thieves acquitted, and innocent persons condemned for that crime. Since all women are not wise, and that there are more ruled by example, then by reason; the most virtuous should consider, at least, that Reputation is a public good, and when it is corrupted, we are to seek to cure it, as we would to quench a fire, or to purge a popular contagion. Indeed, one may laugh at them that allow themselves all kind of liberty, because ill tongues rank the most virtuous with the most dissolute in the ill repute, and the most vicious with the most worthy in the good: as if Kings would light torches at noon, because the Sun lights Peasants as well as them; or as if they would be sick, and cast away their health, because their Subjects are well!  
We should not make ourselves vicious, because others think ill of us; but we should live better to deserve another opinion: the testimony of the Conscience is more to be esteemed then all reports, though there were neither friends nor enemies to praise or reproach. Handsome Women will always find satisfaction enough in their glass; and ill-favoured ones, vexation: The Conscience doth the same for vice or virtue, as a glass for Faces. Dissolute Women are far from standing on good opinion, since they do all they can to have an ill one: And to consider well the life of a great many, it seems they would imitate Lesbian in Martial, that affected pomp and ostentation in her Debauchery, and took more pleasure in the Spectators, than the Adulteries. She was in her voluptuousness, as the Sophisters were in their virtues; they loved to do nothing well, she nothing ill, but upon the Stage. Men should not throw themselves into despair for this, since this misfortune depends not on their carriage, and since the most illustrious persons have been liable to it. The insolency of Lucia did not abate the glory of her Husband's Victories. Drusus Nephew to Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, obtained an immortal reputation, notwithstanding the lasciviousness of his Wife. Infamy should be personal, as sin is; and we should not partake of the punishment or shame, when we have no part in the crime. Since it is not enough to be virtuous, but it must be believed, we must be careful of the appearances, and leave no pretences for ill tongues, which makes faults when they find none. I will allow, that Socrates loved not young Alcibiades, but with all kind of honour, and that his affection did not contradict his Philosophy: Yet notwithstanding, making him lie with him every night, he should have been cautious of his coming, and return, to take away the means from those that saw him come back in the mornings, to make use of the time and place of his visit for an occasion of censure; though the Oracle published his virtue, one cannot justify his unadvisedness in the carriage of this friendship. Discretion and love agree not even in the best wits: It may be 'tis for that the Poets feign Cupid to be still a child, because let love grow never so old, it never arrives at the years of Discretion; his childishness lasts as long as himself, lest he should be ashamed of the fondness of his sports and dalliances.  
I do not wonder if Love make us lose our Reputations, since it makes us lose our wits; and since Socrates himself could not scape reproach in a bare friendship amongst the Romans; Claudia, a vestal Virgin, was innocent, yet was accused to have forfeited her honour, for smelling too curiously; and it was thought enough to condemn her, that she took a little more pains with her clothes and discourse, than was necessary for a Nun. Indeed it was a light appearance to arraign her on; but she would not have been acquitted but by a prodigy, when she moved a ship with her girdle, that many Engines and Men could not stir.  
Whatsoever one can do or avoid, there is no infallible rule or means to preserve her reputation; and since it depends on the opinion of others, there is more fortune than wisdom in it. We must not think that ignorance joined with caution is sufficient for it, since God himself that is the spring of goodness and wisdom, saw himself traduced for a while by the impostures of his enemies that reported him a Man addicted to vice and debauchery. This one example shows sufficiently that there is somewhat else requisite besides virtue and dexterity to preserve it. There is a strange unhappiness in some persons, that exposeth them to be talked of, nobody knows why: and that happens oftener to the virtuous than the other, because their denials procure them Enemies, and they are often in danger, like Susanna, to be accused of a crime they have refused to commit. There are some faces too that attract censure; and this proceeds from fools, imagining that one cannot laugh without being vicious, and that there is no innocence but in frowardness & Melancholy. It is the belief of the ignorant, that virtue should always cry, and know not that we should beware of a dark humour, as of water that is overcast. And of all kind of wits, there are none so harmless, as the most cheerful. It were to be very dull, to believe one could not have a good humour without having an ill conscience: if there were neither malice nor enemies in the world, there are few things so sure or so true, that cannot be taken diverse ways; and if we examine well all our Actions, it seems that they are almost all subject to interpretation and dispute. Who can judge certainly (setting Christianity a side) of a man giving alms in public, if it be for good example or vanity? May not one say of a patient Man, that it is a sign of insensibleness, as soon as of virtue? Who knows whether a merry humour be a testimony of looseness or of freedom? Those that are serious, may they not pass for vain or stupid, as well as for modest? the interpretation makes all; and if the things were not indifferent, we speak of them more according to our sense, than their nature. Since it is so, we should seek our consolation in our own hearts, as wise men do; and when we have done all that lies in us to deserve a good reputation, we may despise an ill one. The neglect of detraction silences ill tongues, and the being moved with it quickens them: It is to acknowledge the force of their weapons, to confess that they have wounded us; and those that are extremely troubled with them, comply with their designs that would offend them, for 'tis to satisfy our enemy to let him know, he keeps us unsatisfied. They that say that ill tongues are like sharp set razors, should add, that their edge hath most effect upon soft and yielding things, and that stones turn their edge: it is as much as to say that spirits too sinsible suffer more than those that are of a firmer and more constant temper. Whatsoever one steals or cuts from Reputation, at last it comes again like hair after it hath been cut, if the root remain, and innocence stays with patience: howsoever if we be unjustly taxed, we should comfort ourselves more in the truth, then be displeased by an imposture. The innocent should be no more afflicted when they are called guilty, then if they were said to be sick when they are well. From hence we may learn why virtuous women are less vindicative when they are taxed then vicious, because as the most ill favoured will sometimes be thought the handsomest by painting, so the most unworthy strive by their cunning to be believed the modestest. This is the reason, they are so troublesome, and that one cannot touch their sore never so lightly, but they will cry out. All the world knows how Lucretia killed herself upon the violence of Tarquin; she said when she was dying, that she had two irreprovable witnesses, her blood to Men, and her soul to the Gods. But I am almost of the opinion of a great Author, that accuseth her not to have been always so chaste, as she would have had believed by her death, and that if she had not been guilty, she would have found more remedy in her Conscience then in her death. Some say, that she resisted rather out of an humour than consideration of virtue, and that having passed her time with some other Minions of less quality than the Tyrant, she feared that all her other faults should have been discovered by this, and that this fear made her resolve rather to let herself out of the world with her own hands, then to stay in it too long to survive her Reputation.   

Of Inclination to virtue, chiefly to the Devotion of the times.  
THose that imagine that womens' Piety is but a tenderness in their nature, or weakness of their wits, are not of my opinion; and methinks, do them no less affront, to deny them this divine quality, then if they should take their eyes from them, which make the best part of the face. We may believe, that they that would have a woman irreligious, desire she would be insolent and without ingenuity; and having after razed out of her mind the sense and respect of Religion, they mean to spoil her of that which gives her so powerful an advantage amongst men. It is an old craft that began with the world, and licentious men do but the same in that with the Women of this age, which the devil did practise upon the first, when he took from her the fear of God, that so he might afterwards easily persuade her to all kind of liberty. Those impious ones, that steal the immortality of the Soul, to bestow it on their infamous delights, and that would (if they could) deprive of an eternal existence this most pure and simple essence, that contains all, and is bounded by nothing, are very foolish to aim at the reputation of good wits, by the slighting of Religion; especially during a Reign, and in a Court, where there may be engraven in greater Characters, then was ever upon the Medals of Adrian the Emperor, The imperial Piety. The Hermits of this time, may (as well as that of Theodosius the younger) leave their solitude, and come and study perfection in the King's Palace, and take examples of austerity in the seat itself of pleasures. We have no need now adays to seek in cloisters precepts for a Christian life; 'tis enough now to be a good Courtier, to be devout. One cannot now observe the laws of Policy by violating those of Christianity; and it is an happy necessity, that makes the licentious Wits of the Court inexcusable; that now adays, unless one will make himself ridiculous, a man must get his fortune and his salvation both together. Ladies that would show that they are inclined to virtue, should be more gracious to such Spirits as are addicted to it then to the other, lest it should be thought if they favoured either libertines, or stupid ones, that the resemblance had tied this knot; Those that show either hatred or coldness to deserving persons, declare by the repugnancy to good things, they are fit for nothing but ill ones: weak wits have not estimation enough to publish their virtue, nor discretion enough to conceal their defects. Yet we often see those that are full of vanity and affectation, pick out among those fools their admirers and confidents; as if it were not a blind choice to elect so ill judges of their merits, and so ill secretaries to their delights. Ignorance and simplicity are two unsure trusts, interest and persuasion will draw any thing from them, and if imprudency were not provoked, it would often speak, when it should be silent. Midas addressed himself ill to reeds to keep secret his long ears; he would have been better served by a discreet Man, than he was by that plant; and dull people, as he did, find by woeful experience, that there can be no true fidelity, where there is no wit or reason: there are more Histories of this than fables, we need not look back to the times past to seek examples, which we have store of every moment, which might serve for the subject of Tragedy and farses.  
And for piety, if anybody objects against it, that it deads' good humour, and breeds too much Melancholy for company. Indeed I do not approve of those that put their devotion upon the rack to make it scowl, as if one could not be saved without being ugly. When the grace of God is in the soul, the face is touched over with the sweetness of it, and not the features and colours of the damned. The weather is overcast when it is disposed to rain, and dejected looks prognosticate somewhat ominous in their musings. Those that have no purpose to do ill, nor remorse for having done ill, are not of this froward humour, which is as contrary to devotion as to comeliness. This no way detracts from penitence; it rains in summer, as well as winter, and love sheds as many tears, as fear. Joy cries as well as sorrow, and the remembrance of sin doth not deject us so, that the return to grace may not raise us again to joy. Sometimes it rains when the Sun shins, so Repentance doth often power down tears upon smiling faces. Bees draw honey from Flowers without spoiling them by touching them; Devotion doth yet more in every profession where it is, beautifying and making it more lovely. And if precious Stones put into honey, take a lustre from it according to their natural colours; so there is no condition in the world that doth not improve the estimation of it, when it is accompanied with Piety; it makes the professed Religious more cheerful, and Lay men less insolent, moderating pleasures, and sweetening austerities; it makes Marriage the comelier, war the juster, Commerce the faithfuller, and the Court the fuller of honour. It is much ignorance and tyranny, to believe it can be found nowhere but in cloisters, and that one can have nothing to do with it abroad in the world, without encroaching upon the Charter house or the Capuchins.  
We are in times where it is not accounted of, if it be not excessive in appearance; so that many content themselves to have a becoming Devotion, or rather, a human Religion. I never see this monstrous Devotion, but it puts me in mind of the Trojan Horse, that was stuffed with enemies, for which notwithstanding (by reason of the pretence of piety they did not only open their Gates, but broke down their Walls to receive with more solemnity the Present devoted to Minerva; but since Laocoon, that took a Lance in his hand to sound it, and to try if it were hollow, was punished for his just curiosity, let us content ourselves to disapprove of these shows of the times, lest we come off as ill as he did, if we undertake to quarrel with it. Indeed, those Women that keep such ado, and use so much craft to deceive some eyes under the pretext of conscience, do like Spiders, that take a great deal of pains to make Webs, where they themselves are hung at last, without any other advantage, but to have caught flies, and they shallow-brains. Clear spirits scorn this, and I cannot conceive how discreet women can mistake dreams for revelations, or let themselves be surprised by such illusions. Likely, those that seem very fond of their Husbands, it is with design to deceive them; and among the Romans, Ladies have been suspected of their husband's death, only for crying excessively over their Tombs.  
In Religion as well as Society, dissimulation is commoner than truth; and this great show is at least suspicious, if not vicious: superstitious women make more scruple of a little sin then of a great one. And are like the Jews, that made more Conscience of entering into the Pretor-hall, then of condemning Christ; or of not washing their hands, then of persecuting Innocence. It is true, that women retain that of the first, that made more Ceremony, and showed more fear to touch the forbidden fruit, then to eat it. These questions, tales and scruples without reason, trouble not discreet persons, that follow Alexander's example, virtuously cutting off troublesome knots, rather than yielding themselves to untie them, as the vulgar do, that are ignorant of true devotion. Notwithstanding this, lest we should pass from one extreme to another, we must behave ourselves in taxing superstition, as those that in the time of Xerxes, burned the houses in Asia. They meddled not with the buildings near the Temples, not only to preserve those sacred places from being burnt, but for fear they should be so much as blacked: so in this case, we omit many things which we might blame with justice, but not without danger of driving weak Spirits to impiety: when superstition riseth from simplicity, it deserves pity or excuse; but when from art, punishment and suffering. The ears that cover the corn, or the leaves about trees are not superfluous, nature hath given them either to preserve or beautify them. Ceremonies are of the same use to Religion, and as devotion is inseparable from love, it borrows often loves raptures, and God's servants can contain themselves no more, then profane ones, which honour their Mistresses, even in hair and Ciphers; Divine love expressed more favour in the effects than the worldly: and a great Author says very well, That if the Poets Cupid have two wings, that the Seraphins have six. It is true, that Hypocrites are not so reprovable as Libertines, because it is better to counterfeit virtue then vice. But in what concerns conversation, the best covering is to have none, because it is easier to be good in effect, then only in show, and it is less pain to certify the Conscience then to set the behaviour. After all this, it cannot be denied that women are not firmer and truer in their devotion then men, since in that occasion where there was most affection to be showed to God, there were found three Mary's under the Cross, where there was but one Disciple.   

Of Chastity and Complacency.  
IT is fit to join these two fair Qualities, to reduce them to a perfect temper; since there be some that become shy and wild by being Chaste; and others that refuse nothing out of Complacency. It is indeed, to be either too good, or too ill an humour, and is but changing of vices, in stead of avoiding them. If virtue have two extremes that offend it equally, one must not make use of the one for defence against the other; as if one must be covetous, for fear of being prodigal; or throw one's self into the fire, to escape the water. Morality approves not such a carriage; it doth not teach us to pick out, but fly from sins; to fix only upon virtue, which is hard to find, because either excess or scarcity hides it from the ignorant. They that think women cannot be virtuous and obliging, understand little the nature of virtue: nay, are void of common sense, much more of any right opinion. Virtue's are but divers, not contrary, and the correspondence is too natural not to be able to subsist in the same subject; when they are well suited, they do better in one another's company, then alone. 'Tis that which Theodosius was so much commended for among the Emperors, seeming to make himself esteemed by contrary Qualities; his gentleness abated not his majesty, nor his severity his Complacency.  
There are some that affect so much a pleasingness, as their smiles seem rather ridiculous than cheerful; and others so much on the contrary, as to put on gravity, look like Furies, or School-mistresses: whatsoever is in it, when one considers well these two Humours, they are to be suspected either of art or stupidity; because if it be without design, there is no wit in it; if it be with design, the serious ones intend to deceive, and the easy ones to be deceived. These believe, that their easiness is ascribed to their humour; and the others, that their coldness is understood an effect of their virtue. These tricks take not long, especially with discreet persons, among which the best way to seem chaste is to be so. As the hypocritical are least devout, so the most reserved are sometimes the least chaste. Hecuba may have an handsome Masque, and Helen an ill-favoured one; but this ugliness or that Beauty abuseth but such eyes as stagger at appearancies. They have more diversity of falsifying and colours, than the rainbow, whose figure turned upward, their dissimulation doth often set on their husband's foreheads Chastity must needs be a divine Quality, since even the enemies of it esteem it, and that the most debauched respect them less that yield, than those that hold out. Apollo being in love with Daphne, when he could not work upon her by his discourse nor pursuit, turned her into a laurel, of which he himself hath since worn crowns. Jupiter being passionate for Io, had no sooner gained her, but he changed her into a Cow. How different are these two Metamorphoses? the refusal is better rewarded than the consent. Respect waits upon Desire, and neglect follows Possession. The God Pan being taken with the beauty of a Nymph, used violence after his prayers, pursuing her to the brim of a River, where she going to precipitate herself, he in pity of her, changed her into a Reed, which he made himself a Pipe of, in honour of her resistance, and to have it every foot in his hands to play with it, and kiss it. Those that are gained are not used so, because they have not that honour, which our Cavaliers seek with so much care and pains. Those that promise to themselves never to go so far, and never to do any but indifferent favours, such as Civility allows, after having given way to more than they should, find a precipice where they looked only for entertainment. Love (like Serpents) works himself in entirely, at the least overture is made him; his beginning is ordinarily contrary to his end; the pretences are always useful or honourable. I could wish that the imprudency of many Ladies did not so often make a truth of the Fable of Europa: This young Princess walking innocently on the sea side, where she considered her flocks, saw a Bull that pleased her better than any of the rest; she draws near to make much of him, and gets upon him; he proud of his fair office, gets by little and little into the water, and so far, as she looks back too late to the shore, not being able to return to it, she was carried away into an island, where she finds too late, that this Bull was a God, disguised to surprise her. Thus you see what becomes of it when one plays with beasts, when one is freer and more familiar with stupid then witty passions: Europa was bolder with a Bull, than she would have been with Jupiter, if he had declared himself; He made his approaches easier under the skin of a beast, than he could have done in the likeness of a God. The most crafty (in his imitation) counterfeit themselves simple and ignorant, to attain easier their pretensions. They steal from little favours to greater, and so still carry on their work, till they change their entreaties into threats, and their softness into violence; and than one finds too late, that true simplicity is abused, when it plays with falsified. The fear of losing their reputation after having given some advantages, debaucheth many: but 'tis fit they should be punished for this facility, to teach them, that there is no trusting to beasts; and that the freest and most ingenuous wits are the most virtuous, and most capable of friendship. A Poet speaking of the Favours which Ladies give, says, That fools are happier in them then deserving persons, because their violence takes more than the others persuasion, by reason of their opinion, that it is less shame to let men take, then to give, as the violence seems to excuse the consent. But 'tis the opinion but of one man, fitter to be despised, then believed; and that doth not detract less from Truth, then from Lady's Honours, which ordinarily are not wounded, but for want of cunning against the subtlety of their enemies.  
It is hard to use so many tricks and inventions to be lovely, without loving; those that give love at their pleasure, do sometimes receive it as pleaseth him. They should do a miracle, to have so much fire in their eyes, without any in their heart; and let them be never so confident, their looks cannot warm others, without heating itself in its own sphere. love's weapons are but ill ones; for one seldom useth them to wound others, but they either begin or end with themselves.  
I have heretofore thought much upon the Statue of Venus made by Phydias, which had a Tortoise under the feet of it; and I believe, the greatest mystery that can be found in it, is, that Tortoises seldom move, or if they do sometimes stir, 'tis always covered or armed, carrying their house over their head. Venus despiseth the solitary and the reserved; those that run after all companies and public assemblies so eagerly, please her better to enlarge her Empire; and above all things, she hath always loved nakedness, since it got her the golden Apple, which Pallaases Arms and Junu's clothes could not obtain of Paris. When either solitude or company grow wearisome, they serve for remedies to one another, as rest and labour, or day and night; but we must know, that the one gives more occasions of doing ill than the other; and those that delight to be often among their enemies, have a mind either to master them, or make them friends. Let the company be never so good, cautiousness is better than confidence: and since she that should be the Example of her sex, was abashed with an Angel that appeared with the face of a man, women should always apprehend men, though they are in the form of Angels, unless it be, that not meaning as she did, they have no need of fear.  
It is ill argued, to say, that timorousness restrains women more than virtue: if their inclination be ill, solicitation will embolden it; experience teacheth us, that if they be apprehensive, it is rather of being vicious, then of being censured. Those that writ the Scriptures and the Proverbs, have said all things to their advantage; they have confessed, that Chastity belongs particularly to Women, because they that have it not are counted Monsters. One could not have wondered so much at the want of it, if the quality were not natural to them. Indeed, there have been men that have possessed this virtue, but it hath been upon occasions where some consideration hath taken away the merit from it. Alexander showed some continency with Darius his wives; but to prove it was rather policy, than virtue, what did he not do with the Amazons? Scipio being very young, restored a very handsome woman that was presented him, to her Husband; but there it was pride that was stronger than love, because he had lost his credit with the Spaniard, if he had accepted the offer. What praise doth Lenocrates deserve for forbearing to enjoy that Lady which was brought him? his coldness proceeded from his age; besides, he was drunk, and sought for rest; and if he had not been neither drunk nor sleepy, it was so common a one, as the most debauched would have been ashamed of, as well as a Philosopher. There needs no long discourse to prove that chastity belongs not to men, they themselves quit their part of it, and believe it were to encroach on the profession of women, to practise the precepts they give them, or not to be before them in the violation of so fair Maxims for honour and Chastity.  
Is is not a strange custom and worthy of reproof, to see men take all kind of liberty, without allowing the least? One might think by their tyranny that Marriage was instituted to only make Jailers for Women. There is much ingratitude, as well as injustice in it, to exact a fidelity which one will not return, when the obligations to it are equal. Women have wit and conscience enough to believe that revenge would cost them too dear, if they lost their own virtue to take satisfaction of their husband's viciousness. Octavia did not desist from loving Mark Antony singularly, whilst he made love to Cleopatra, and left a great Beauty at Rome, to possess a less in Egypt. They that have this constancy, deserve admiration; but those that have it not, have some colour for their weakness: Example pleads for them; for they imagine that it is not likely that a crystal should resist blows that might break Diamonds or Marble.  
If I may be allowed to give my opinion after my prayers, since God loved one of his disciples more tenderly than the rest, one may have a particular inclination without blemishing chastity, that doth not banish affections, but regulates and moderates them: yet we must take heed that kindness which in its own nature is a virtue, be not made a vice in the practice: not to be cozened in it, the end and design of it must be examined as soon as it begins, and we must assure ourselves, that it is forbidden, if we pretend to any thing but affection; since dishonest love is the trade of those that do not spend their time in some commendable employment; we must believe that Chastity is preserved by occupation, and corrupted by idleness. Diana hunts, and Pallas studies, but Venus is idle.   

Of Courage.  
MEN think that Courage is a quality inseparable from them, and by a peculiar privilege essentially tied to their Sex, without bringing other ground or title to it, but their own presumption: But he that had much ado to imagine that there was so much as one brave or valiant Woman in the world, made them full reparation for so great an injury; and though he was accounted the wisest and most powerful of all men, he lost that high advantage among women, which weakened him so far as to bring him to Sacrifice to Idols: Histories are full of their generous action for the preservation of their country, for love of their husbands, and for the Religion of their ancestors. As the strength of the brain is showed in walking a top on high, without fear of falling; so the force of our wits is expressed in looking upon precipices and danger without disorder. The stupid have not this advantage when they expect hazards, nor the rash when they seek them; none but the wise defend themselves from misfortune, without either being precipitate or insensible, since Courage should always be with a free deliberation; and that it is neither a forced virtue, nor a parley natural. I can hardly hold them generous whose constitution makes so light, as they are transported without any cause; nor those that Nature has made so heavy, as they cannot resent injuries and offences. This is either an excess or a defect of sensibleness, and may be better called stupidity or levity than courage. If there must be Judicionsnes in all the discourse of an Orator, prudency should be found in all the actions of a wise man; and without that, let Polyphemus be never so strong, it will not save his sight; and though Ulysses be the weaker, the giant with all his strength cannot defend himself against him.  
They that know the temper of women, will confess, that they have a great disposition to true Courage, being neither cold to a degree of insensibleness, nor hot to a degree of rashness. Courageous persons do not throw themselves into all occasions, as if they had as many lives to lose, as the world had hazards & misfortunes: let them set never so good a face on it, even the bravest find some pain to expose themselves, for that which depends merely on opinion, and are unwilling to commit a fault, which even the loss of their lives cannot repair. Temerity is punished in the other world after it hath been blamed in this: those that have this virtue, will not allow anger or despair the name of Courage, and I cannot think that men have reason to call women fearful, because they are not hasty & unadvised. Those that say, I make an Apology for slackness, will not take it ill, if I answer, That they make one for brutality. What glory is there to cut one another's throat? and what advantage, but the fashion to brag of a Profession, which the G●thes were masters of, and hath given us both the rules & examples of? What is easier than to let ourselves be carried away with fury, and follow the Motions of our passions? Those that the vulgar call valiant are like glasses, which one can scarce touch without breaking. They know not that wits, like bodies, are always most sensible where they are weakest. If it be generosity to be tetchy and complain every foot, the sick have more than the found, old men then young, & fools more than wise men: when sear and boldness are reasonable, they oppose not one another, the one opens our eyes for a prevision of misfortunes, the other animates us to a resistance of them when they are present.  
I do not think that anybody will deny this fair quality to women, when they shall have read this story which Tit. Livius hath left us to their advantage, which he confesseth to have writ with love and admiration. After Philip King of Macedon had put to death the principal Lords of Thessaly, Many, to avoid his cruelty, fled into strange countries; Poris and Theoxena took the way to Athens, to seek that Safety which they could not have in their own Province: they put to sea, but so unhappily, as the contrary winds drove them back into the same port from whence they had set sail. The guards perceiving them at the Sun rising, advertised the Prince of it, and strived to take from them that liberty which they valued above their lives. Poris in this extremity useth prayers to satisfy the soldiers, and to call the gods to his relief. But Theoxena, seeing her death unavoidable, and resolving not to fall into the tyrant's hands, saved her children from captivity by an extraordinary resolution. She offered a dagger to the eldest, and to the lesser a little cup full of poison, saying thus, There is no saving of our lives and liberties; and since we must resolve to die, Courage Children, it is better to choose a death then to be forced to take it from these insolent hands. They that are strong enough let them make use of this weapon, and the weaker of this drink. Her children having obeyed her, she threw them half dead into the sea, and embraced her dear Poris to throw herself into the water in his arms in the sight of his soldiers, that could not choose but lament the loss, and admire the resolution of this Lady.  
I do confess, there is somewhat in this story contrary to our faith, but courage and constancy shine in it in a marvellous brightness. I can scarce believe there can be found among men greater, nay even a parallel.  
If the courage of Theoxena appeared in the defence of her liberty, this of Megistona was yet more remarkable to save that of her country. After that Aristotimus had usurped the sovereignty of Elida, he expulsed the best part of the Citizens, and seemed to grant the prayers of those unfortunate men, that asked leave for their wives to follow them in their distresses: he yielded them their request; but as soon as he perceived that the wives were prepared to be gone, and preferred the company of their husbands before the staying in the town, he put many of them to death and the rest in prison. Yet because Tyranny doth not do less hurt to those that exercise it, than those that endure it, and that there is little safety when one hath as many enemies as subjects, Aristotimus began to apprehend his fall; news was brought him that the banished Citizens had made a body and joined to besiege Elida. The Barbarian being in despair, conscious of his own weakness, finding no readier remedy, went furiously to the prison to command the wives to write to their husbands to pacify them. Megistona despised his command, and without fearing the effects of his unjust power, made this answer in the name of all. Thou showest enough that thou wantest judgement, as well as Courage, if thou comest to entreat those that thou hast used so ill, and if thou expectest favour from those that never received mercy from thee; The horrid darkness of this place, nor the threats of death shall never make us so base as to betray our country, for which we will constantly give our lives, after having lost our liberty. Aristotimus being exasperated by this discourse commands Megistona's son to be brought to him to put him to death in the presence of his mother; and when he could not be known among the rest, Megistona calls him out by his name, with a protestation that she had rather see him dead then captive in Aristotimus his hands, who drew his sword to kill him. In this disorder the Tragedy was ended, he was besieged without, and they conspired against him within the town, where he was murdered in the market place. Megistona comes out of prison to be as merciful as she had been generous. She saved Aristotimus his daughters from being ravished, representing to this mutinous people, that they should not make themselves guilty of a crime that they had punished, nor commit a cruelty upon the children in doing Justice on the Father. Euripides admireth the temperatness of Iphigenia, when she was made an immolation to Diana for the stag which Agamemnon had killed. Why do you lament (said she to her father) her that dies so pleased, since the oracle commands it, and for the good of Greece? and if the success of your arms be dependent on the loss of my life, I accuse not destiny, and am sorry for nothing but that I have but one life, that I might offer you as many lives as I wish you triumphs: howsoever your victories shall be cheerful like to this offering, which is the price and presage of it. This young Beauty in the midst of the public fears died thus sweetly and 〈◊〉, and res●sted no more the Sacrifi●●●, than a Rose doth the gatherer.  
What resolution did the French Ladies express at the siege of Beauvais, when they repulsed Charles Duke of Burgundy when he besieged the town in Lewis the Second his time? Though Xenophon hath made Cyrus the example of all monarchs, was he not defeated by Queen Tomyris, with these reproaches, drink now thy fill of that thou hast so much thirsted after? Did not the Ladies of Aquileia give their hair to make bowstrings against the Emperor Maximinus? Did not the Roman, and Marcellian Ladies do the same? And if I may be allowed to give my opinion after my commendations, Those that kill themselves are not courageous but defperat; it is to render the place in stead of defending it, and give ourselves to the enemy, without his taking the pains to overcome us. There is no great resolution to choose death for its own remedy, and become our own executioners. Notwithstanding, men are found as often guilty of this lightness as women, without exempting even the greatest personages. Cato conceived he should find more redress for his ill fortune in his wounds, and his violence to himself, then in constancy & reason. Lady's must take heed too, that they be not bolder for their passions, then for virtue; 'tis that wherewith their enemies charge them. But howsoever I cannot approve of those that are like Theria the Corinthian; She was so afraid of flies, as she would endure no light in her chamber, for fear of seeing them; yet she had boldness enough to kill her husband. It is to abuse fear as well as boldness, to apprehend flies, and to commit murders with so much confidence.   

Of Prudence and Discretion.  
IF the Oracle of Apollo declared Socrates the wisest of all men: Socrates confessed freely, that his Diotima had taught him the Wisdom and Prudence which the Gods themselves judged incomparable. It was no little advantage to this Woman, to have instructed this Philosopher, which might give rules to all men for life and manners.  
Though Aristotle were one of the greatest enemies of Women, he hath notwithstanding given testimonies, that he preferred truth before hatred, confessing in the second Book of his politics, That they did manage amongst the lacedaemonians, the Affairs of greatest importance. It is a Tyranny and a custom that is not less unjust than ancient, to reject Women from public and Particular Government, as if they were fit for nothing but to spin: Their Wit is apt for more elevated actions: and if one will mark what they have done, one may easily judge what they are capable of. If men sometimes took their advice, whom God hath given for their help and consolation in their affairs, it may be they would have a happier success. At least, these following Stories will witness, That the praises we give them, are not ill grounded, and that we have a reason to maintain, that their Prudence hath often brought remedy to the most desperate diseases of States and Provinces.  
When the Sabines demanded Roman Women in Marriage with their Swords in their hands to revenge a refusal; The Senate was puzzled to make an answer, in a case where a denial would beget a certain war, or the grant of it would hazard their State; because their alliance was but a colour to make themselves Masters of Rome: Tutola being very young, presented herself with her advice, which at first surprised them; but afterwards succeeded to the glory of the Romans, and shame of the Strangers. After having perceived a great irresolution in the discourse of so many old Senators, whom experience should have furnished with good counsel, she proposed to them, to agree to their demands, and to dress their Maids like Brides, and to carry them to the Sabines, who preferred their pleasure before their design of making war. These slaves seeing their pretended Husbands in a sound sleep, subtly stole their arms from them, and advertised the Roman soldiers of it by a lighted Torch; who carried back a Victory where Fortune had no part. One cannot praise enough the conduct, courage and affection of Tutola, that found an expedient for the commonwealth, when all the Senate could find nothing but fear and apprehension.  
The Sabine Women have not got less reputation in the like occasion, than the Roman. Although these two people were allied, yet they made mortal war one upon another: The Squadrons being ready to join battle, the Sabines threw themselves between the two Armies, covered with mourning, their hair about their ears, and their children in their arms. What? (said they to the Romans) have you forgot that we are your daughters? Do you not see that we are between our Fathers and our Husbands; and that you will be no less obliged to lament the victory if you gain it, then if you lose it; since these children will be without Fathers, and your daughters without husbands. And you Sabines, what fury transports you to seek the spilling of blood, which is so allied to you? You can never report your victory, without publishing in Parricide, and relating a story which will be as shameful to you as lamentable to us. We have put on black, because mourning is inevitable, since we must needs bewail our husbands, or our Fathers: if you have a mind to go on, exercise your rage upon us, that had rather die then be either widows or Orphans. This Spectacle with their discourse, did so soften the hearts of those warriors, that they contracted an inviolabile Friendship. The Sabines afterward inhabited Rome, and these two people became one; and Romulus, to honour the wisdom and conduct of the Sabines, gave their names to the Decargos, bands of ten men.  
The prudency and generosity of Ladies, gave the Laced monians an occasion to build a Temple dedicated to Venus armed, where Pallas seemed to cite her before Paris, to demand satisfaction of him for taking away her arms, after having carried the Apple from her; but Venus replies nothing in her defence, but that if she had been victorious naked, she would be so much more, armed. Yet to speak my opinion more particularly in this moral; methinks, it is not enough for worthy women to have a pleasingness without Discretion: Ladies are but human by Beauty; but as it were divine by Prudence: Beauty asketh but love, but wisdom challengeth admiration. It is virtue that gives them most authority and respect: and without which, the rest are without ornament, at least without order, like scattered Flowers which the wind parts, and carries up and down confusedly. With Discretion the vicious preserve their honour, and without it the virtuous lose it. In matters of Love and Pride Women never want dexterity; their Wit always accompanies their Passion. Jacobs' Mother is witness enough of their ability, in the inventions she gave him to supplant his brother.  
Prudence and wariness are inseparable: and as Rashness exposeth the most powerful to danger, so Distrust keeps the weakest in safety. Lady's may, as well as Misers, be afraid of the shadow of a Reed, that is, of the least occasion; since they have a treasure about them as well as they, which is easier lost, and worthier to be kept. The Poets Pallas, which should be an example to the wise, was always armed; to show them, that they should be still upon their guard. And indeed, what worth soever one can have, she that is without fear is like a City without Walls; as easy to be taken as hard to be kept. I mean not a frantic fear, which is a greater ill than that which is threatened; but a wise one, which proposeth ill accidents without distempering the Body or disquieting the Conscience. If prattling and pert Women be offended that I esteem Modesty more than Prudence, I would advise them to quarrel with their own shameless humour, that decryes them in all companies. Those that ordinarily take so much upon them, have little in them; that are like Apes, that are never more beasts, than when they put on men's clothes. Discretion is never parted from Prudency, it is Treasure that nourisheth itself whilst it is covered. Like that Lamp in the time of the Romans, that remained almost a thousand years lighted, as long as it was under ground, and went out as soon as ever it was brought into the air. Those that would seem wise labour in vain; the best wits cover the Springs of their motions, lest they should not be ingenuously dealt with, and so they should be rather fenced with then trusted.  
The greatest and most common sin in the world, is to choose ill, either for love or fortune. Prudence provides against this miscarrying, since it is particularly employed to deliberate and elect. Indeed, a great many have much need of this virtue, and should not wonder if they repent them of their loves; because understanding and election doth not precede them. There are some Women that seem to have mere brutality in their designs, making monsters the objects of them, even as far as to imitate her in Ariosto, that preferred a Dwarse before a Prince; violating at once the laws of Merit, Quality, and Marriage.  
There's no wisdom to hold one's peace, or to talk always; prattling shows a giddiness in the brain, and overmuch silence either stupidity or scorn. One may discourse a whole day, and yet speak little; but sometimes one may say too much in speaking but a word. There is not so much discretion to speak few words, as no superfluous or impertinent ones: Otherwise, the dumb were borne with great advantage, if we must retrenche the use of the tongue in stead of moderating it. Women dispute secrecy with a great deal of Justice, with men; and though they are accused, to have no inclination to silence, they do keep it inviolably when it is required. What threats soever Nero could make to Epicarmis a Roman Lady to learn of her the Complices in a conspiracy she was accused of, he could never make her speak against the purpose she had, of keeping a secret of that importance; the sight of torments shook the resolution of her partners, but she prevented the executioners, and made the Tyrant confess, that she had more constancy and discretion, than the men had feebleness. This Action witnesseth sufficiently, that they are much to blame, that neglect women where wisdom and silence are required. When Theseus was in the Labyrinth exposed to the Mino-taur, who gave him means to escape but Ariadne? without the third that she gave, how could he ever have unwound himself out of those Mazes? This Labyrinth is the Image of intricate affairs or occasions, Theseus represents men puzzled in them, the third is wisdom: and Ariadne gives it, who figures to us judicious Ladies, which ordinarily rescue men in extremities, which they could not deliver themselves from. When Jason should have served for a prey to the furious Bull which guarded the Fleece, was it not Medea that charmed them, and freed the passage for that Cavalier, to carry that away which nobody durst undertake? By the Bull we must unstand Perils, which often intercept the possession of brave things; by the Fleece, our designs and pretensions; and by Medea, ingenuous women, that can charm dangers, and have no other spells but their wisdom and behaviour to deliver those that, like Jason, have more boldness than dexterity to undertake what they have no means to accomplish.   

Of Knowledge and Ignorance.  
A Woman without wit when she is handsome, is an object rather of pity then desire; and when she is ill favoured, 'tis a fearful Monster that frights all the world: because as beauty without discretion, cannot defend itself; so ugliness with ignorance is not to be endured; and if the knowledge of good things, sets a gloss and luster on the actions of the one; it serves to excuse and varnish the imperfections of the other, to make her less troublesome, and to repair by the faculties of her wit, the defects of her face. And if I would maintain, as my theme obliges me, that a Lady should be learned to excel in conversation, It may be this opinion will offend at first, that of Ignorant and stupid men, that imagine to make a near resemblance to themselves, that a woman cannot study nor read without forgetting honour and virtue, at least without requiring a justification for it. But those that judge so rashly, neglecting what they should desire, as if they were bound to hate the perfection they have not, or that they should not esteem any but shallow wits, to satisfy the diffidence of themselves, in stead of representing to themselves, that such women, that have not judgement enough to discern vice, have no more to make choice of virtue, or to know how to prefer upon all occasions, reality before apparency. But they that are never so little versed in morality, are not of this mind, because we find every day by experience, that the light of reason is as it were natural virtue, which disposeth us to do well, almost without study. And that we seldom see a good wit, without a good conscience. The help of reading fortifies this good inclination, and those that persuade themselves, that reading is a school to learn to do ill cunningly, it would become them better to believe, that Ladies find in it more arms to defend, then to hurt themselves; and more means to Conquer, then to be overcome. Reading and conference are absolutely necessary to render both the wit and the humour acceptable; and as the one collects the matter of our discourses, the other gives us a method to express them gracefully, to join together facility and abundance; otherwise conversation is but an insupportable tyranny, and 'tis impossible without suffering the torture, to stay long with such women, that can entertain one with nothing but with the number of their sheep, if they be of the country; or if they be of the Court, that speak nothing but what bands and gowns are in fashion. Tailors or shepherds are better read in this, and a plain seamstress hath a great advantage over them in company. It must not then be imagined, that speaking of this accomplished woman, whose image we have now to draw, that we mean to figure the mother of a family, that can govern well her maids, and takes care to comb her children. Music, History, Philosophy, and other such exercises, are more suitable to our design, than those of a good huswife, and there are none so removed from common sense, that will not confess that without these good qualities, though Ladies have an excellent wit, yet it is often full of ill things, and troublesome in discourse; the best land bears but briars and thorns, when there is nothing sowed upon it, where Art and Labour might bring fourth lilies and Tulips: It is that which is often wanting to their good inclinations and desires, when tyranny or some other misfortune bars them the possession of these fair qualities, of which Nature has given them a capacity. For to say they are not fit for knowledges, me thinks it is to misjudge of there constitution, which as the Physicians say, being more delicate than ours, is also better disposed for them: but it maybe, 'tis an effect of their Judicious choice, to quit freely the vexation and musings of study, as an occupation that the wisest and most knowing of men, had called wearisome. And I may say without flattering them, or without pretending by this insinuation to the honour of their good graces, that they are capable of as many virtues as men; and if sometimes they quit their claim which they may lay to them, 'tis rather out of Modesty or consideration than unaptness. Our ancient Gauls divided with them, the glory of peace and war: reserving only the active part of arms unto themselves, and leaving them the establishment of the laws and the preservation of commonwealths, that was not to be done by ignorant ones: and one may judge in what esteem our ancestors held them, since they allotted to the men only the exercises of the body, and to women the abilities of the mind. What knowledge can be thought either so difficult or so divine, in which women have not excelled, at least, as well as men? was not Aspasia judged worthy to teach Pericles, who notwithstanding might have instructed all the world? What need we to name many women, that have penetrated the greatest mysteries, and have been so knowing in Divinity, even to the admiration of the greatest Doctors?  
This matter is too ample to prosecute; although men be very sparing and reserved in writing their praises, they cannot choose but witness this truth, and fill their books with such examples. And if we may be allowed to go as far as Fable, we shall find that if men have an Apollo for an Author of their Sciences, that women have also a Minerva, that hath invented the best Learning, and that gives them as just a claim for this pretention. And if I did not fear to support so known a truth by fiction, I would be content to refer those that doubt of it to the Poets nine Muses, to which we ascribe the invention of Arts. But not to continue farther proofs, which authorise the justness of this side, Those that say that women draw great advantage out of ignorance, do they not do too much honour to the silly and ridiculous village-simplicity, which ordinarily defends itself ill in occasions, and makes little resistance against the importunity of the first that presses or solicits her. Or if this opinion be good; were not blind men the surer for having lost their sight? as if winking were enough to avoid a precipice. In the Court, as in the ocean, one must know the rocks, and the sands, to prevent shipwreck; and if woman do ill after they know it, one should impute the cause of that misfortune to their will, not their knowledge. Otherwise if all kind of reading or Learning be interdicted them, a thousand disorders will arise out of their ignorance: they will find to their cost, if contempt can move them, that those that forbid them the use of reading or study of good things, cannot endure an Inequality of wits. I cannot choose but laugh, when I think of the error of Francis Duke of Brittany, that expressed a great passion for Isabel the daughter of Scotland, when he understood that she had been studied, believing that a woman was knowing enough, when she knew the difference between her own smock, and her husband's doublet. The beleese of this good Prince, would be very ridiculous in those countries, where the men go naked, or among those nations that make the shirt and the doublet all of a piece: his estimation of the silly and ignorant obligeth me to believe he had made a vow to love only his own resemblance. The Emperor Theodosius did not so much value the ignorant, he married Athenais only for her wit and learning, without sticking at her being but the daughter of a Pedant, of whom she had received nothing, but beauty in her birth, and Philosophy in her education. Those that mistrust a woman when she understands any thing but her beads, live according to the proverbs, & dare not do any thing, when it is told them that our ancestors did not use it. These are weak Spirits, that deserve what they fear, and that ground their suspicions even on the same reasons that should secure them. Indeed I do not commend those that affect too much sufficiency. But excepting this abuse, it must be acknowledged, that women that have knowledge and reading, are more pleasing in conversation, and are better pleased in solitude when they entertain themselves. Their Idea hath somewhat to delight itself with, whilst the ignorant lie open to ill thoughts, because knowing nothing wherewith to busre their wits, as their discourse is wearisome, so their thinking must be extravagant. Therefore I would advise them to vow a perpetual Solitude, because they are everywhere insupportable, easy to be seduced, virtuous by chance, and vicious by necessity.   

Of Constancy and Fidelity.  
THose that believe levity natural to women, reading this discourse, which proves the contrary, will imagine that I have undertaken to find settledness in the wind, assurance in the waves, and strength in reeds: but passing by their opinion, since I have neither purpose nor commission to undeceive all those that are in error, I will show that for inconstancy, women are in more danger to be injured by it, then guilty of it; and that their diffidence is very just in this time, when the friendships that are promised them with most ceremony, are either without truth, or durance. Constancy is: but for good things, obstinacy for evil. otherwise sin should be eternal, and repentance should be forbidden for fear of charge. When the alteration is just, it is election, and when it is not, 'tis lightness. As it is not just, that they that are sick, should always remain in that state, for fear of being inconstant; so I believe that it is no more blamable, to shake off an ill opinion, than a fever, and that repentance is as necessary for the mind as Medecines for the body. What harm is it to prefer a greater merit before a less? or to confess that the sun has more light than the Stars? otherwise the first thing we had seen in the world, should chain up our liberty, and even deprive us of the right of choice, or make us love that which should be hated.  
Those that esteemed Nero, whilst he carried himself moderately, the first five years of his reign, were they bound to love him when he be came a Tyrant? afterwards when he had lost his virtue, was there any affection due to him? I loved this man for his merit, this face for beauty, that flower for colour; this man is become vicious, this face disfigured, this flower faded; after this why should I dote on an object whose lovely qualities are ceased? How can the building subsist when the foundations are removed? unless to keep the adored laws of constancy, those that love a picture are obliged afterward to love the cloth, when the features are defaced? There is no religion in love, that obligeth us to honour such relics, unless that the affection change into pity, and that it be rather to avoid ingratitude, than inconstancy. This is the reason that those that love but the beauty of the body, cannot both live and love long. There is nothing but the fairness of wit and virtue, that can truly fasten our constancy: Faces as well as years, have their seasons, though the spring be never so pleasant, we must resolve to see the flowers pass away, and to suffer a winter after the fair weather.  
Yet for all this, there is no colour to intend to blame so noble a virtue, and a quality so necessary in the world, as Constancy, without which all Love is but treachery, whether it be understood according to custom, or reason. The following examples will show sufficiently, that men are to blame, to give the name of vice to womens' virtues, calling them obstinate in their perseverances, and light in theirreasonable changes. Synogaris' being in love with Camna wife to Synates, used all manner of devices to bring her to yield to his passion; but all his pursuits, with the eminency of his quality having no power to shake the resolution of this Lady, he imagined that if her Husband were out of the world, he should compass what had been refused him: He put him to death, and after this cruelty importuned so the kindred of this Widow, that she made show of an agreement to a Marriage with Synogaris: when they came to the Ceremonies, and that they were to go to the Temple of Diana, this chaste Lady carried with her a drink, of which she drank half herself, and then gave the rest to Synogaris, who drank it joyfully, not imagining it to be poison: Camna seeing her design accomplished, cast herself upon her knees before the Image of Diana, to whom she presented these thanks and excuses; Great Deity, thou knowest how unwillingly and to what purpose I have consented to a Marriage with this murderer: If Grief killed as often as it ariseth to an extreme, I had not been now in this world: where notwithstanding I have not refused to stay a while, to take vengeance of this perfidious man, that thou seest, who believes that I can love him, after he hath ravished from me my dear Synatis. Think on thyself, barbarous man, and confess what right I have to sacrifice thy life to that, which thou hast robbed my Husband of. I do not reckon mine own, since I have employed the end of it to give posterity a remarkable testimony of my love and thy cruelty. Camna was so happy, as to see him die first, though he drank last: the Gods gave this satisfaction to her Fidelity; and she went out of this world often calling upon Synatis, that he might come and meet her to accompany her in this her journey. Can men produce a nobler example of Constancy? and was it not an erring Philosopher, that maintained publicly, that among a thousand men there could hardly be found one constant; but amongst all women none?  
If Constancy be shown in the continuation of a design, in spite of all impeachments and crosses; how great was that of Psyche in the search of Cupid? she saw three goddesses set against her pretensions, Juno, Ceres, and Venus, and yet her passion became victorious over their malevolence, she did things that seemed impossible, she went down to hell, where she spoke to Proserpina, and the gods esteemed so much her resolution, that they Deified her, and gave her her love, which she had sought so constantly.  
After so many effects of their fidelity, it is hard to decide whether the Prince of Philosophers had reason to compare women kind to the first matter, because they desire always to change forms, and though they have a most perfect one, they turn a general inclination for all others. This Philosopher meant to conclude by this parallel, that women are insatiable and variable for men, as matter is for forms▪ But it is a comparison too injurious, and would suit better with this Philosopher, then with the lightest woman, since he left his Herina for another Mistress, to whom he erected Altars, to convince himself with more solemnity of that fault, which he had accused women of. They have more reason to complain of men, then to fear their reproaches. How is the simplicity of credulous ones now abused? What pawn soever men give, they my be better called cousners then inconstant, because at the same time that they promise fidelity, they purpose to violate it, so as there is no change in their resolution, but only in their discourse.  
Variableness doth not distract Wits of the higher strain, one may rely on them: even their least designs remain firm in all the storms of Fortunes. Levity ariseth from the weakness of the brain, and Constancy from the force of it. After Affection hath fastened two hearts, the separation of them should be impossible; for if Love in its own nature be immortal, it is not true, if it can cease. St. Austin himself said, that his friend and he seemed to have but one soul to live, as well as to love; and death had not so properly separated two, as divided one; and after the loss of this his confident, he feared death and aborted life, because without him he lived but one half of himself; and that he was obliged to preserve this rest, lest his friend should die outright. There were few so constant as this great person. On the contrary, many would believe themselves too innocent, if they did not annex treachery and perfidiousness to Inconstancy. I cannot conceive how there should any remain of this profession, because all the world detests it; those that use it distrust it, and those that are injured by them, cannot▪ orgive them. Indeed, not to pursue all the ●●ules of Physiognomy to know them, their mind alone witnesseth, that falling out with all the world, they do not agree themselves; confessing without speaking, that horror which is their sins conception. It must needs be that theirs is the greatest guilt in the world, since they arraign themselves in their own Court of Conscience, even going sometime as far as execution with their own hands; practising a new form of justice, where they are Judges, Parties, Accusers and Executioners: though we naturally love ourselves, they cannot show themselves mercy; and one may read in the colour of their face, that none can absolve them, when their own soul condemns them and torments them. It must needs be the most horrible, and the most inexcusable of all sins, since those that are guilty of it have so much pain to commit it, and that they do much harm unto themselves, in doing it to others. 'Tis for this reason, that Fidelity is always cheerful among thorns, and perfidiousness always troubled, and pensive even in the beds of Roses. A loyal spirit feels not his torments, and a traitorous one tastes not his pleasures. Their senses are diversely suspended, because viciousness bitters even their delights, and virtue sweetens and relisheth the others' ill and sufferings.  
There needs no proofs to show that Women are seldomer perfidious than men: we may judge by these following examples of the rest. What excuse could Ptolemy King of Egypt find after the receipt of so many obligations from Pompey, for his commanding him to be murdered, while he fled to him for refuge, after the defeat of Pharsalia? those that have read the History, will confess that it was an unparalleled cruelty and treachery. Though Julius Caesar had declared Brutus for his heir, yet he was one of the first that struck him in the Senate, without any consideration of the favours which he expected or enjoyed from this Emperor. When the soul is sullied with this vice, it is capable of all the malice that can be imagined. Covetousness keeps close to it, which when any woman hath a propensity to, she can hardly be faithful; there is nothing that she would not buy or sell to be made rich. It is the most infallible mark of a gross spirit and a debauched soul: Ladies should not express any inclination to it, for fear of the fortune of Prochis, who after she had resisted menaces and submissions, yielded when she saw the money told. Credulous and ignorant women are in no less danger, their goodness betrays them; they are persuaded to many things which their easiness consents to against their honour. It seems that such are neither false nor faithful, since they have neither intention for the one, nor ability for the other. It is this simplicity, which as the Poet says, may be excused, so they delight not in their own delusion. The crafty are subject to do that by malice, which the silly do by misfortune. Subtlety sometimes lays traps where itself is caught: There are ills in which flight is better than resistance; good swimmers are oftenest drowned, because their skill tempts them to fall so far down the stream, as they cannot come up again. Constancy and Fidedelity express themselves even in the least actions; the gate gives marks of it, and the lightness of the motions leads us to judge of the weight of the wit.  
Alfonso King of Arragon said, that womens' inconstancy appears in their inclination to dance; It was an ill conclusion drawn from an innocent thing: But that Prince seemed to have such an experience of it, as seeing a young Lady dance with a Gentleman who made love to her, said to him, Comfort yourself, this Sibyl will quickly render the Oracle you ask; because the sibyls heretofore gave no answers but in motion.  
But to leave the marks of Constancy and fidelity, & come to the effects. It must be confessed, that women have been incomparable in them. Among the Heathen, Pompeia Paulina caused her veins to be cut, when she saw her Husband Seneca condemned by Nero, refusing to live after the death of him that had taught her to love philosophically, that is, constantly. They closed up her veins against her will, but she testified always after, by the paleness of her face, that the cure was unwelcome, and that she stayed in the world unwillingly, Seneca not being there, of whom she had learned to despise life and death, to value Constancy in love. The Wife of Mithridates seeing the Affairs of her Husband desperate, took the Crown that she had on her head, and hung it about her neck, so to end herself; and having broke it at the first stress, she took the rest into her hands, complaining sensibly, that Crowns, which in good fortune serve for ornament, could not serve for remedy in ill. Among the Christian Ladies, in the most noble occasion of courage that was ever offered, did not Mary Magdalen constantly accompany her Master everywhere, when the Disciples fell off, after all their protestations of never deserting him?   

Of Curiosity and Censure.  
curiosity never agreed well with silence▪ those that know much news, do not resolve to hold their peace; and Censure infallibly disperseth what indiscretion collects. The wits of curious women are like the vessels of the 〈◊〉, that emptied as fast as one went to fill them. That which comes in at the ears, run● presently out of the mouth, because indiscretion, that directs to harken as lightly as to speak, let's lies out as freely as in. I do not tax the divine curiosity of Philosophers, and good wits, which have detected the secrets of nature, and given us means to regulate the passions of our mind, as well as brought us the wisdom of above; 'tis that hath taught us more morality, civility, policy, and what is useful to the civilization of our lives. I condemn but that which is a desire to know what is useless or vit●ous which removes us from the knowledge of ourselves, and the truths necessary for virtue or for conscience. Ladies that are pleased to hear all kind of censures, occasion ill opinion of their virtue, because that easiness they show to believe ill, is as it were an assured proof that they would have the same to act it. There are those that cannot endure that anybody should be advantageously spoken of, and that believe the censure of all the world, to be an Apology for their faults, since it comprises them in so much company as if the number of the malefactors did authorise the offence; when they hear other womens' virtues commended, they grow as sad, as ugly when handsome ones are made love to before them. And if one should examine their thoughts, one should find yet a blacker spring; They are glad to have company in their infamy, but they would have none in their delights, being more moved with jealousy than shame, imagining that those that use their pleasures, steal somewhat from them▪ They are like the Emperor Tiberius, that set officers in Rome to discover and condemn adulteries, that he only might commit. Virtuous women excuse faults, in stead of publishing them; vicious ones are always merciless to their like, thinking to testify by their hatred, that the crime is unknown to them; but the effects give their words the lie; and this cunning takes so ill, that they rather defame then defend themselves. Worthy women banish vice from the world by charity, and licentious ones expel virtue by detraction. 'Tis easy to discern a chaste woman from another; the last examines all, even to the least circumstacce, her illness is the pattern she judges by, her experience and her design makes her give, even to the best things ill interpretations. After Prochis had betrayed her husband, she spied into all his actions, hardly blieving him clear in what she herself was guilty. Vicious old women are always apprehensive, and fear the abuse of liberty, not imagining that even conversation or taking the air, may be harmless. They fear, me thinks, lest any should do so much ill, as they have done, or would do yet, if they had as much vigour as viciousness. They have no better means to cover their sin, then to express displeasure or astonishment, when they hear others blamed, because showing so ready a belief to all imputations, one may judge that they are far from being liable unto them; for if they did not set off themselves by a comeliness, their face consenting to what their mouth forbids, a vicious boldness would be too much encouraged, which is well pleased too with a slack facility. Curiosity for trifles and ill things, is a mark of the looseness of conscience, and defect of wit. Such as busy themselves with little tales of their neighbours, and entertain company with them, furnish their wits, as the Chinesais do their Cabinets, with old strange rags and gugaus: I would advise all of this humour, that bestow their time either uselessly or ill, to study the Anatomy of flies, or the art to count the atoms of the air; and to punish their body as well as their mind, to live only upon shrimps, in which there is more business than meat. This light idleness gives an ill character of them, because they are judged capable of vice by weakness, if not by illness. There are those that speak ill of other on purpose, yet would seem to do it unwillingly; but 'tis to do like Archers, that draw the shaft towards themselves, that it may go stronger to the mark. How much error and vanity is there in our judgements and discourse, since between the even and the next morning we differ from ourselves more than we did from others? How can we be assured that she that was to day given to pleasure, shall not to morrow shut herself up to austerity? But suppose our judgements be not false, we must needs offend against charity, if not against truth. Such as have but yet committed one sin, should not be called vicious, and those that have done many, it may be, will not continue in them; the first correct, the other change themselves. And indeed, there is no certainty to speak of the illness of any, without endangering a lie, since a moment or a thought are enough to change perdition into penitence.   

Of a Debauched Woman.  
THere are few such Islands as that of Cio, where it is said that the laws of honour and chastity, were preserved in their purity the space of seven hundred years, without ever being violatedby the ladies of the country. I know not whether it be an effect of their cunning, or their virtue; but howsoever, it was either a chastity, or a reputation of a great standing, which deserves as much admiration, as the depravation of this age doth blame, sufferings, or corrections. It may be this discourse will not be welcome to such as I should be glad it should be useful. But if the vicious be not disposed▪ to take our remedies for this cure, at least they must resolve to endure our reproaches for their shame; and if our precepts be not sovereign enough to close up the incurable ulcers of these old she-sinners, and to draw them out of the mire where the weight of their crimes hath buried them; and those whose eyes are more contrite than their consciences, being always awater rather to lament the loss of their youth, than the enormity of their crimes: at least this will restrain the young ones from sinking into so obstinate a looseness; I speak boldly of all, because if they be debauched, I would not be friends with them; if they be virtuous, I need not fear falling out with them; the one will applaud my censure, the other will do me honour in disproving of my doctrine, as I do of their life. This passion is not that which properly is called love, but some other disease which cannot be cured but by miracle; and one may reproach such as are infected with it, as the Poet did Myrrah, that it is not Cupid, but one of the enraged furies that lights such a flame. It is a fire of hell that has blindness for smoke, scandal for light, and infamy and shame for ashes; these are the sad relics of such, that having long prostituted themselves, save of the ruins of their honour, nothing but a sad repentance▪ but what honour soever we conceive of them, we must be more obscure than reproachful in this matter, in which we should cover by modesty, that which hatred & truth might oblige us to publish: this crime has one great advantage being so reprovable, that its own beastliness defends it, but 'tis rather by others shame then pity.  
Those that have inclination for all our sex, love none, though they love all; when one is come to that pass, there is no more distinction, the most brutish seems the loveliest, their fire kindles even in water, by objects that deserve even horror and hatred. Semiramis loved a horse, Pasiphae a Bull, Glauce a Dog, and Glaucippe an Elephant; Appelles musing on this, drew Venus' face with her mouth half open, to show, that those of her humour have never their mouths closed, for lures to their own designs; and though they be never so old, their desires always exceed their abilities. Indeed, many resemble Iberina in Juvenal, that would have as many men as kisses. Then the number of their sins passes that of their thoughts, and without borrowing any thing from Poetry, one may say that arithmetic cannot multiply so high.  
Many of this humour have sought remedies for their infamous disease in magical intoxications. What extravagancy is it to think to find in drugs means to be beloved, as if love had any roots but in merit and virtue? 'tis that which gives it birth and nourishment; and those that use so much art to make themselves lovely, run the hazard which Apuleius speaks of, that used an ointment to get wings to fly in at his Mistress window, but in stead of being changed into a bird, he was turned into a beast. If herbs had any power to recover those that are struck with this disease, Apollo, which is the god of physic, would have made use of it, when the beauty of Daphne had made him quit heaven for earth, and changed the form of a god, for that of a shepherd, Those that endure with so much delight lascivious discourse, show that they would take much more in the action, and that there is nothing said to them, but what they are acquainted with, both by knowledge and desire; 'tis not their gentleness, nor good humour that brings this facility, complacency reaches not so far. Modesty is always severe, when it is entire, and is tainted, when it is brought to such a softness. The widow of Sigismond discovered herself sufficiently, by an answer she made to those who counselled her to imitate the turtles, That she loved as much the company of men, as our Lady apprehended that of an angel; she told him, that if she were to live like birds, she would take an example rather from Sparrows, than Doves. There is no less danger to read men's Courtings, then to hear them. After Helin had opened Paris his letter, she imagined then that she ought to refuse him nothing. When one has given any favour, she engages herself afterwards beyond either the obligation or the intention. Those that have no mind to be overcome, should at first distance all rash hope, lest they take a gentle refusal for a permission. As the most ill-favoured have most need of painting, so the most debauched are most curious in the apparency of virtue This is the reason that they are ordinarily unequal, appearing to day insolent, according to their humour, and to morrow modest by affectation. Those that compare vicious women to Sirens, it may be, do not know the mystery of this similitude. One of the monsters was called Parthenope, which is to say, virgin, having a smiling face to allure mariners, to break their Ships against the points of rocks that were covered under water. The most immodest, ordinarily, study to appear the chastest; but for all their falsifying, they are whirlpits of infamy, where none but the unadvised and desperate are shipwracked. The reservedness of an honest woman, is far different from that of another; the one is natural, the other forced; they seem to live freely and ingenuously, the better to deceive those that are so simple as to believe, that what they do, is by their humour or innocence, which is a plot to sink some young Pilot. I never saw censorious women, that were not debauched, or that did not mean to be so, imagining that by a false policy, that the universality of their sin would be their justification. Yet to show the irregularity of their humour, they hate those that imitate them, so that conformity that produceth correspondence in all other professions, begets aversion in this; this is the way to disagree with all sorts of women, since the presence of the virtuous seems to reproach them, and the company of the vicious to diminish their delights. Poison dog's adultery, when a woman is once branded with that vice, she believes she cannot preserve her Reputation, nor find rest nor assurance in any thing, but the extinction of the witnesses of her uncleanness; then reason cannot curb a Spirit that is frighted with the remembrance of sin, who draws boldness from vengeance, and natural weakness renders it inconsiderable.  
The salvation of impudent women is almost desperate, how well soever they propose to themselves their own conversion, they relapse always into their own hell, and there repentance may be ranked among the miracles. If death did not purge the world of them, we should be constrained to make public processions, to descend ourselves from them, as from a curse, that is worse than the other three; but God reserves to himself their punishment, and forbids our meddling with those afflictions which he hath prepared for them in the world to come.  
If one had well considered these old she-sinners, and compared the features of their faces, with those of their conscience, one should find an equal deformity; or if one could draw them to the life, and persuade us that the devils are like them, I believe nobody would be damned; and that this fearful object would deter us more from hell, than the severest preachers.  
But that I may be as brief as obscure in a subject that feeds my melancholy, and gives me ill thoughts, I will finish this old picture, as Apelles did one of his: When this admirable painter had considered with much delight, the features and charms of Compasp●s face, Alexander's Mistress, he grew so passionate, that he was fain to ask the original of the Emperor, in stead of finishing the copy. I do that out of hatred, which he did by love; I find so many horrible features in the picture of a debauched woman, as the pencil falls out of my hand, having too much anger, and too few revilings to perfect this piece in colours black enough.   

Of the Cruelty and Pity of Women.  
WHatsoever the most part of men believe of womens' fury, pity is so natural to them and their inclination bent to mercy, as even the furies themselves could not choose but lament the misfortune of Orpheus, that went into Hell to demand his Eurydice; those pitiless places, where horror reigns always with cruelty, were not able to suppress the sensible compassion that the furies were affected with, at such a misery. After this must it not be confessed, that tenderness is an inseparable quality from women. Since anger is an enemy to this commendable habit, I believe it were more advantageous to them, wholly to extinguish this passion, if it were possible, then to think to moderate it by prudence. Indeed it is the most unjust of all, because other passions may have a real good for their object, whereas this hath never but a seeming, to satisfy the error of those it possesseth, which account not themselves happy, till they have left others in an incapacity of being so. Thus therefore this passions flattery is ill grounded, because if mischief be transportable from one subject to another, it is without a self diminution, as torches communicate their light. I must confess it is an incomparable blindness to believe that the impression of an injury, wears out by stamping its own likeness on another: Women are accused of extremities in their passions, the world believes that they seek not so much the opportunity of an hasty, as a home revenge, especially when they are irritated either in love or fortune. Though this imposture require rather neglect then answer; yet if one would do so much as examine their inclination, one shall find it as innocent as their enemies have drawn it injurious: at least excusable, if not to be commended. Indifferent wits are easily moved and settled, because their violence slacks; and their motions must needs grow remiss and weak if they continue, because they are neither natural nor rational. Time, that is received of all the world for so great a Physician, cures but the first troubles of our mind; but when passion is just, it augments proportionably as it lasts, because thoughts and meditations strengthen and nourish it, when we weigh maturely the reason of its generation. The sensibleness of infirm and loose spirits, is like fire, that flashes out, as soon as it is lighted in flax; but conserves itself longer in Iron, and more solid Subjects. Women are not of this light temper, to fly out without reason; as they are unapt to be moved, so have they an equal backwardness to reconciliation as well as quarrel. One would be very much deceived, if he should believe by this that my proofs were less reasonable than natural; I submit always Morality to Christianity, and confess that I should rather set up a School for vice then virtue, if I would justify revenge to oblige women to the prejudice of Religion, and even their own nature, which is inclined to gentleness and courtesy. I only praise the constancy of their designs, when they are just, otherwise I should be a pernicious Advocate if I pleaded for a sin that is so prejudicial to them, as it makes them pass for monsters; and which they have so little inclination to, or acquaintance, as it is not improper for them only to be cruel, but misbecoming to be severe; and of the two parts of justice they seem to be borne, but execute the milder. Amongst all the effects of cruelty, one of the most insupportable is, that it is as averse to beauty, as it is to conscience: If tears sometimes become a face, anger hath the same privilege as grief, and though one may often see a beautiful melancholy, yet I have never heard of a lovely fury; this passion is too violent, not to raze out all the fair lineaments out of the face: the eyes by little and little fright in stead of charming; the frowardness of their mind is drawn out by all their motions, and that may come to such a degree of horror, that one shall not dare to approach them without prayer, as we do such as are possessed, whose faces they either have or make.  
Proud and ill women are almost always infected with this crime, because that meeting with many enemies to their evil intents, there is no malice so black that passion doth not infuse into them, for the ruin of those that intercept either their love or fortune. Aphrodisia wife to the Emperor Dioclesian, tried always to be beloved of her son in law Erastus, but after having lost many entreaties on him, in a chamber where she thought the opportunity would afford her victory, the refusal incensed her with as much spite as shame, she came perplexed to her husband to accuse this innocent of a crime he would not commit. 'Tis the custom of Debauched women to turn their love into hate, when their desires are discovered and not satisfied and to plot the preservation of their credits even by the ruin of those that would not be their complices. It should seem that the Philosopher Chilon spoke of such when he maintained that it was the uttermost of all comminations could be made to enemies, the anger of women. Me thinks it is an incomparable masterpiece, and an art that nobody is passed Master of, the pacification of a furious woman. If this passion last till they grow old, they will be sick of it all their lives, because they will fright those that would appease them; when they can no longer give love, they will hardly give patience. The wrinkles will score out their years in their faces, as lines do hours upon the dial. And you may judge of the vileness of their infamous age, since they frighted their nurse even in the Cradle. The head of Medusa that struck so much fear into the world, had but her hair changed into Serpents: these have their eyebrows over and above, to be completely horrible. The devil which inspires them with so much fury, must needs trouble their sight also, when they look in a glass, since they do not scare themselves, and in stead of being content to be endured, expect still to be beloved. Hell may keep its furies, these will serve in the world, to act or persuade sins blacker, than those that heretofore drew fire from heaven, or have opened the jaws of the earth. If ugliness be the mark of cruelty, want of wit is the spring head of it. I hold it infallible, that those that have no sweetness nor gentleness, are void of understanding and courage. Generous women are always pitiful, they know it is more glorious to overcome their own passions, than their enemies; and that to give life where it may be taken, is almost to resusciate the dead without a Miracle.  
But for fear this morality should not be understood, Anaxarates was not cruel in seeing Iphis die in despair before her door; the refusal was just, because the demand was not so. 'Twas an offender that did injustice on himself for his temerity. Worthy women should fear less the ruin of importunate men, then of their own honour; and it were to be ill advised, to be cruel to themselves, to be so unfittingly pitiful to insolence or detraction.   

Of Beauty.  
THose that adore or despise Beauty, either offer too much or too little to the image of God. It is one of the rarest presents that heaven hath made to earth▪ but we must ascribe all the merit to the power of him that gratifies us with it. In the opinion of Plato, it is a human splendour, amiable in its own nature, that has the power to ravish the mind with the eyes. Since heretofore deformed Ministers have been rejected from the Temple, let us not believe ill of beauty; God himself hath thought it necessary, for those that approach his Altars; it must be a mark of our inclination to good, since we as seldom find beauty without virtue, as ugliness without mischief. The judgement that we make of the beauty of the min● by that of the body, are not most commonly ill grounded; souls like Queens, prepare their residence, where they themselves take the pains to adorn them when they are received into them. And indeed, if virtue be necessary for the establishment of sovereign authorities: beauty also sweetens them, and welcomes even servitude which otherwise would be insupportable. I find sometimes fair wits in ill-favoured bodies, but they are relics ill set, which the country people do not so much respect and reverence, as if they were covered with Gold or Pearl. This lovely quality may challenge a command everywhere, wherethere is the light of eyes or reason. The face alone of Scipio the African Subdued many a barbarous Nation without so much as the drawing of a sword; and Heliogabalus himself from a Priest of the Sun, rose to be Emperor of all the world, as soon as his mother had shown him to the soldiers; so as all the world pays a duty to such as nature hath thus advantaged. The vulgar believe, that if there be no ill in handsome women, at least there is inconvenience; the temptation is there, though the sin be not: when beauty is the occasion of ill, 'tis an innocent that makes offenders, and those that complain of it, do as idly, as if one should accuse the Sun for dazzling his sight, when he looks too fixedly on that glorious body. This is objected, one can hardly keep that which many love, and there is no great assurance in the possession of that all the world aspires to: sometimes Towns are so long besieged, & assaulted at so many several places, as at last they are taken: one cannot praise beauty better, then in confessing all desire it as the object of their delight. If handsome women are sometimes gained, this complaint must be addressed rather to their wit then face. A place is not the weaker, because he hath yielded which should have kept it; the fault is in the captain, not the Fort. Howsoever, ill-favoured ones can have no advantage in this reproach, because since they are never attempted, their holding out cannot argue their strength. They should have curiosity only to seek darkness, because the Sun never rises but to their shame, which seems to shine only to give light to fair objects. They are in more pain to defend themselves from contempts, than suits, and patience is the virtue they had most need of. Handsome women are accused of being scornful, but when we think well of it, we shall find that their disdain proceeds rather from conscience then vanity, because they cannot endure the idolatrous pursuits of the excessive praises which artificial men offer up to surprise them. As Kings laugh at the compliments of Courtiers, because they are made more for interest then affection: so women may mock the officiousness of Gallants, because all their pains tend but to their own pleasure, and the ruin of indiscreet ones. There is not so much presumption in the most admired women, as there is poorness in men that tie their own chains; the services they do them, and the names they give them, express as much their weakness, as the extravagancy of their passion. What reason is there to call their Empire tyrannical, since their subjects are but so to their own wills, and refusers of liberty? The grave Cato reverenced beauty so much, as he said publicly, it was no less crime to injure it, then to sack a Temple. Those that imagine that the number of their Gallants, adds something to their beauty, and are over-pleased with the submissions and duties that are rendered them, go out to meet their enemies, and show they be easily overcome; since respects and praises are strong enough against them, of which men are no less prodigal, than women can be covetous; but they should believe that when ingenuity bargains craft, that it seldom gets any thing by it. If women are handsome, those that praise them would deceive them; if not, but make sport with them. Therefore all kind had need of wit and virtue to exempt themselves from danger or neglect. There are some that are scrupulous to praise beauty, because it passes away so soon, and lasts no longer than lightning, and most commonly as well as that, promises tempests and storms. 'Tis a flower, say they, that fades as soon as ever it is blown, which the wind sheds, the Sun dries, the rain flags, and hands do gather it; and that is so delicate, that without being touched, or having enemies, in a moment dies by its own natural faintness. But is not the same to be said of all other things in the world, which cannot last always? and all beauty can be complained of, is, that it hath not the durance of stars, as well as the fairness and lustre. The fairest women would find an excellent prevention of vanity, if they could represent to themselves at sixteen or twenty years old, the defects, decays, and incommodities of age. What fair plumbs soever nature or art decks them with, they would like Peacocks be ashamed, looking down to such horrible feet, if they foresaw so much change and ruin. I do not profess here, to preach mortification; but methinks, they should not so much afflict themselves for what years draw from them insensibly, and even diminishes itself every moment in spite of Art; were it not for painting, which discovers the defects 'tis laid upon, they would be comfortless and irremediable. Natural beauty deserves estimation, but that of their own making nothing but aversion. Sulpitia among the Romans had so lovely eyes, that those of her time could not see her without adoring. The cheeks of Lavinia were so carnation, that they amazed the Roses into paleness. The neck and breast of Theodota an Athenian were so beautiful, that Socrates himself fell in love with them. These features or charms must not be acquired by art, nor possessed by vanity; nature blesses some persons with them, on purpose to please our eyes, and elevate our spirits to the love of him that is the head of all human perfection. Counterfeit beauties fall shamefully in the sight of all the world, almost like those false stars, which after they have abused our eyes a while, show us by their fall, that what we took for stars, was but a little lighted vapour.  
Yet for all this we must not altogether forbid ornament or care for the face, since we whiten over walls when they are old. The ill-favoured also are to be allowed to paint, so it be for public good, and out of a consideration of not frighting those that look upon them. They would be very much surprised, if they were used as Phryne used those in her company; as soon as ever this courtesan appeared (saith Galen) she distasted all those of the assembly, leaving them nothing to show but shame and jealousy; they invented a Game to relieve their dejection, which was mutual commands to one another; when it came to Phryne's commands, she gave order there should be water brought, and they should all wash their hands and faces; as soon as they had obeyed her, one might see patches and plasters float, and none almost knew one another, they were other faces full of spots, and fearful features. This game would trouble many of this time, that natural beauty remained with a great advantage. By her the Are pagites themselves lost the names of uncorrupted, because not believing her innocent, yet having seen her, they could not judge her faulty. Hyperides pleaded against her to no purpose, though he was very Eloquent; as soon as she appeared, her presence made her Apology, and she did but show herself for her defence. It is not now adays only, that handsome Women get their Causes; when Justice unvayles herself to see them, with a very little Solicitation they get a happy trial.   

Of Gracefulness.  
THe Soul is not more requsite to life then gracefulness to please: it takes off from the defects of the ill favoured, and sets off the beauty of the handsome, by an addition to their perfections. When one is possessed with this lovely quality, (whose praises I write, rather than rules) all that one undertakes is comely. There be many kinds of it; hearts as well as bodies are wounded with several weapons, the complexion, the hair, the gate, the shape, the looks, the discourse, the actions, the voice, and even silence have diverse attractions. There have been those that were never so handsome, as when they cried. Panthea had so graceful a melancholy, as she obliged Araspes to adore her tears; it seems that Ladies possess this taking quality, with more advantage than men, and this command which they obtain by these charms, is much more powerful and more assured then that which we take by violence. Though this be a gift of nature, rather than art, yet it needs some rules to perfect it, which are learned with pleasure and easiness in the conversation of Ladies. If the face be the mirror of the soul, morality is necessary to preserve this perfection, since it prescribes rules to the motions both of the body, and the mind. And indeed anger, fear, the disquiet and repose of the conscience, are well figured in the looks; and malice has an inseparable remorse, which dissimulation cannot long bail; by this we may perceive that the beauty of the body depends partly on that of the mind, and that the rules of gracefulness are annexed to those of this regularity.  
One may better understand the effects of this admirable quality, then express the nature of it. It is never to be found where there is constraint, art or ignorance; we must not aspire to an impossible excellence. And art cannot strain itself too high, no more than nature, without making monsters. It happens often, that the extreme desire that some have to please, begets hate in stead of love. On the contrary, naturalness has so gentle charms, as none resists, because they arise from innocence; and affectation is never without some imperfection, or too much self-love. How ridiculous is it not to dare to laugh for fear of loosening their patches? or not to change their looks, but in the morning when they dress them? yet this is the fashion of the life of those which will have no glass, if it do not flatter, nor no light if it be true; and though they pretend much to the devotion of the time, they never go to mass till the holy water be spent, for fear that receiving any of it, their plasters should be moistened, and that there should be stains discovered on their faces: but their design shows it self with their deformity; because striving to shadow their Defects, they make them the more conspicuous. Gracefulness is so averse to this slavery and fetteredness, as though we could always do well, it is a question whether that would always please. There must be in every thing intermissions to unbend our spirits. Art in this should conform itself to Nature; that hath not set Stars all over the heaven, nor Flowers over the earth; and though flowers are not so fair and precious as Stars, yet we look upon them with more pleasure and attentiveness, because their beauty being of so little stay, leaves us always a desire of seeing them again. Our spirits are cloyed as well as our Senses; they need some rest and relaxation to digest delights. 'Tis not my meaning to persuade by these reasons, that one should affect faults; but so they be but light ones, we may sometimes commit them so happily, as they prove advantageous; because bashfulness that follows them, and displays itself in the face, is an infallible testimony of an innocent soul; that is far from conceiving of great ills, since it is so sensible of slight ones, and sometimes when they are but imaginary.  
If gracefulness then be described by doing all things by Nature, and not by studiedness; an ingenuous freedom is better than constraint. All the world yields, that difficulty consists in rarities; there is no dexterity to declare a painfulness, since a Clown may do as much, but to hide it so finely, as the cunning of it may not be discerned. Candour and Ingenuity is not less to be wished for Discourse, then for Action; the most ordinary words are most excellent; a word that is obscure is forbidden. The Philosopher that always wept, it may be, would have had a mind to laugh, if he had heard many women, that would pass for Learneder than they are, use in their Discourse such hard words, that do easier express their extravagancy then Conceit.  
This excessive desire of pleasing which we have blamed, goes along almost always with the apprehension of not being liked; and then when these two contrary passions meet, they cause great inequalities, because if desire excites them, fear cools them; when the one animates us to speak well orsharply, the other interrupts us, and ties us to silence: by this one may judge, how much apprehension as well as vanity injures gracefulness. It happens ordinarily, that such that are always on their guard, and fear every moment to fail, do almost nothing else. Extreme fearfulness disposeth the mind to error, as well as the body to sickness.  
Me thinks, if one examined well the cause of this same troublesome passion, that Education doth not contribute less to it, than Constitution or Nature. There are those that are bred in such a slavery, they can do nothing freely, they dare not hold up their heads with that becoming confidence that graces actions: their thoughts are always low, and what good inclinations soever they have, shamefacedness retards the success of their purpose: Those that have seen nothing, are subject to be amazed at a very little, because the diffidence of themselves makes them admire or fear every thing. Most commonly, after their Salutations they begin their compliments, as we end our Letters. They would find an excellent remedy, if they could believe that so little things are not to be admired; and that if one were at leisure to examine that which we wonder at first, after an hours conversation, we should often change the subject of our admiration into the object of our contempt. But everybody cannot attain to this resolution; 'tis hard even for the best Wits, to have dexterity without experience, or facility without practice. Actions beget Habits with difficulty, and then the Habit being formed, it produces actions with gracefulness and ornament. Yet notwithstanding, in blaming this rustic shamefacedness, I do not mean to praise impudence, because both have limits and effects irregular, because the one carries us beyond our power and decency, and the other keeps us short of them; whereas the modesty that I desire, is between these two vicious extremes, to distance us from too good or too ill opinion of ourselves.   

Of clothes and Ornaments.  
THere must be a certain discretion observed in clothes, lest old men should tax the excess, or theyoung defects; and that a decency may keep the one from laughing, and the other from being angry. This is the reason that it is so hard to please all, and to suit the fashion well to reason, because there are some so absurd humours, as they can endure nothing done in the fashion, and will certainly conclude every thing unjust, if the invention of it be not proved by at least one ages Antiquity. This is very much to undervalue the present time, and to honour that that is past, without considering that wisdom suffers what it cannot redress, and that there is also less vanity and difficulty to follow the received fashion, then to resuscitate the antiquated. Indeed the light and giddy invent fashions, but the wise and sober accommodate themselves to them, in stead of contradicting them. Habits and words should be suited to the time: and as one would think them mad, that should speak in the Court the language of Chaucer; so we could not judge better of such as would affect to be clothed so too. Those that censure the inconstancy of the French, should do better to quit their own slavish opinions, that forbid them their own commodity, lest they should not be clothed like their Grandfathers. I would fain know of those that will not follow the times, of what date they would have their clothes; because if Antiquity must be the rule, they should go back as far as Adam to clothe themselves with leaves, to render the fashion more venerable by this ancient derivation. Those that say, reason and custom resemble the Sun and the Moon, did light well upon it, because we must serve ourselves according to the occasions of the Illuminations of both these Lights, though the one be clearer than the other. Excess is blameable in all things, but principally in novelties; 'tis folly to despair them, and vanity to be too much affected with them. As I do not approve those women that study with too much curiosity new fashions, so I cannot esteem those that yet lament the putting down of high wires and farthingales. This obstinacy comes from self love; they are no less punishable, than those that would make old medals current in commerce for money, against the laws of Princes, and custom of the Country. Such women make their own antiquity ridiculous, and make much a do to bring the ruin of time, and the defects of nature to be more remarkable in themselves. The care and time that is spent in curious dresling, is reprovable when it is excessive, or when the intentions are not allowable. I do not believe that there is any more harm to beautify faces, then to set precious stones, or polish marble. We azure wainscots, paint images, guild swords, every garments. We make even Temples brave, why should ornament be forbidden to complexion or beauty, when the designs are fair too, since it is permitted to all things else? Saint Jerome writing to Gaudensius, about the clothes of young Pacutula, seems to excuse the curiosity of women in very remarkable terms. Their sex (saith he) is curious in ornaments, and studies naturally the sumptuousness of clothes, in so much as I have seen many chaste Ladies, that dress themselves very costly, without having any aim in their designs but their particular contentment, by a certain harmless complacency or satisfaction: This inclination is so natural to them, as heretofore many Ladies did entomb their ornaments with themselves, to carry into the other world, that which they had loved so much in this.  
Those that dislike these indifferent things which the intention either justifies or perverts, imagine that they have a great advantage over women when they call them the devil's fortresses, without considering, though ill spirits work sometimes in their actions and clothes, that they are no more guilty of the ill that happens when their designs are irreprochable, than thunder is when the devils make it light upon men or Churches. Yet this discourse doth not enlarge itself to the defence of vice, or the justification of licentiousness. Modesty is a powerful charm, without it beauty is soulless, and other virtues may deserve admiration, that only merits love: Fxcessive Ornaments add not to Beauty, nor diminish deformity, since in Pythagoras his Opnion, an ill favoured woman set out very brave, is laughter for Heaven, and lamentation for earth. Women that glory so much in their rich clothes, have nothing but what may be had in Shops; and if they were well considered, it would be found that they abuse our eyes, as those old Images, which are all hollowed within with rottenness.  
But is it not a shameful thing, to see that men are more set on these Superfluities than women? Hortensius a Roman Orator passed half the day in considering and sprucing himself, in stead of learning his Speeches: And without going back so far, we are in an Age where men profess more than ever this blameable curiosity. I believe if one had well examined the set faces and Baby looks of a great many, one would give them the quality of Aristogares, that took so much pains to make himself fine and genteel, that at last he was called, Madam: To speak truly, they are as far out of their design as the decency of their Sex, because they are never less pleasing than when they force themselves to constrain others to think so. Negligence is more advantageous to them, than studiedness, and freedom than reservation. Therefore methinks that a Poet says well, that marks, that Theseus was not brave when Ariadne gave him such proofs of her love. It is to be feared Ladies that too Chevaliere, are beyond modesty: Men too much Ladied, are short of Manhood. I do not wonder that Pompey lost so many Battles, since his men had so much care of their faces, as they were never hurt, but in their backs.  
But to return to what concerns our purpose. Caesar seeing his daughter Julia Augusta too curiously brave, considered her a great while, without gracing her with a word, expressing his dissatisfaction by his silence. The next day seeing her more modestly dressed, he told her with a smiling face; That that habit became better the daughter of Augustus: the reply of this Princess was not less considerable, than the admonishment of the Emperor, I was dressed yesterday (said she) for my Husband, but to day for my Father. The wisest allow women to please many, to subject one; but after they have made that choice, than they are forbidden the continuance of their design. It must be acknowledged, that if women dressed themselves only for complacency to marriage, there would be not so much excess; and Husbands would not complain so much, that profusion introduces poverty and jealousy into their Families. I do not wonder that women have so much ado to walk, since most commonly they carry three or four houses hanging at their ears.   

Of jealousy.  
ONe cannot lose that without sorrow, that is possessed with love, and preserved with carefulness; therefore jealousy is not so unjust as many imagine, because it makes us only fear that another should despoil us of that which we believe should be only ours. Is it such a fault to watch the keeping what we love; principally in a time where fidelity is so rare, as there is none but those that are assured to be deceived, that do not fear to be so? If the goods of fortune and body yield to those of the mind, so their loss must be most sensible: when affections which we believe we have deserved by ours, are taken from us, it is the greatest stealth, as they are the most valuable proprieties. And indeed, to reason well of it, Love is an Empire only of two Persons, which cannot be extended further without destruction, & in it obedience & sovereignty are reciprocal. It is so covetous, as it would not lose so much as a cast of an eye, or a hair. Indeed it is no less folly to believe that there is no love left in the mind that begins to be jealous, then to conclude that there is no life in one, that is but sick: on the contrary, pain and sensibleness, are never in dead bodies; so jealousy is never found in hatred or in difference. It must needs be, that this passion has likelihood of reason, since God himself heretofore allowed husbands to try the fidelity of their wives, with a water which they called the water of probation or jealousy. If all suspicions were extravagant or unjust, God would have interdicted them, not have cured them by so solemn remedies, he would have shown rather a detestation, than compassion on them.  
So those are grossly deceived, that think they have criminated jealousy, when they maintain that it derogates from the opinion of our own merits, or the fidelity of the person we love: if one examine well this passion, it rises not commonly from that distrust; and we do at the same time believe ourselves lovely, and others beloved. 'Tis a fear that discovers not so much our own weakness, as it confesseth the merit of our enemies. We do but the same in this, as we do for treasures or other things, which we cannot love without fear of losing. As the most firm in Religion may have doubts, so the most confident in love are capable of some suspicion. The strongest trees are shaken by the wind, though the roots be fixed, whiles the leaves and branches are tossed. One would wish to have no ill belief, but reports & conjectures shake us rather to a fearful than a confident conclusion. The mind suffers much in this irresolution, and apparencies trouble much when one cannot directly judge of the falsehood or truth of them. There are both good and ill examples, both to settle and to shake us; and ordinarily our thoughts light upon them that persecute us, rather than those that ease us. That of Penelope comforts us, when we represent to ourselves, that her fidelity lasted five & twenty years in the absence of her Husband; but that of Messalina tyrannises over us, and awakes our suspicions: when we think of our infamous impurities, our minds are balanced on both sides, but the misfortune is, that conjectures having given the Alarm, that by too strict an enquiry, we either find, or invent somewhat, to change our doubts into beliefs. Should we not rest ourselves, after having had a trial of a person, and may effects for testimonies of the affection? But all those proofs keep us not from vexing ourselves, because fear which is not in our power, interprets ill the least appearances, and buries itself even in false objects, when it finds no true.  
What trial soever we have had of fidelity, when love hath nothing left to desire, it hath all to fear. It is the natural course of our passions, that threaten change, when they are in extremes, and ruin themselves without any occasion, only because they are human. Hypocrates has made a good maxim, to advertise us, that bodies are in danger of sickness, when they are too high and strong. But a Poet has a better conceit, for the alteration of minds raised with too violent an affection. The will deserves as well a wheel of inconstancy for her passions, as fortune for her favours; in the top there is no subsistence long, either by reason of misfortune, or imbecility. Those that are in the highest pitch in love, are like those which are on the top of too great Elevations, their head grows dizzy, and though nobody touch them, they reel till they fall of themselves, merely by the fear of falling. When the Sun is at noon, it begins to decline, because when it cannot pass that point, it retires and removes itself, when nothing drives it to its setting or another hemisphere. Our minds seem to have the same motions, and distaste follows liking by an order that is as natural, as that which makes night succeed the day, or ebbs and floods in the sea.  
We feel ourselves insensibly weary even of the loveliest things, and though the soul be immortal in her own nature, yet she seems in her actions to express a youthfulness and age, as bodies do. Socrates said, that the Gods did strive to mingle pleasure & pain one with another; but when they could not do that, yet at least they tied them together, that the alternative succession may prevent insolence and despair. This happens often without our own voluntary contributions, and as we slip down from joy to sorrow, so oftentimes we perceive our love change into coldness or indifferency. The diseases of the mind as well as the body, are formed most commonly without our consent; we lose the quiet of our soul, as our health, all at once, without any prevision of the change, and not knowing how to find the cause or remedy of this passion, no more than of a Quartain Ague.  
But I have too long spoke against my own mind, as well as reason, in favour of a passion that ruins loves reputation, and disorders the soul's tranquillity. Reason engenders love, and love jealousy: but the one and the other resemble little worms that corrupts the matter that forms them; The one kills his father, and the other his mother. How moderate soever this passion be, it is always dangerous, and in this case there must be injustice committed, forbidding the practice by reason of the abuse, because they are too much fastened to one another. As there is no little Serpent without some Venom, there is no so well tempered jealousy, that does not produce many misfortunes. Those that compare it to Ivy, do it very fitly, because as that grows ordinarily but upon old heaps of ruins; so this passion wreaths itself most commonly about tortured and dejected spirits. We see Ivy flourishing with green upon trees that are dry and sapples, so the older men grow, this passion youthens the more, and becomes the stronger in such as age or craziness of wit infeebles or stupifies; other plants have their root at the foot Ivy has everywhere, and even more root than leaves; Jealousy roots itself every day more and more, and insinuates itself more inseparably into the soul, than Ivy can do into trees or walls. It is but the middle kind of wits, that are capable of this contagion; excellent ones are above it, and mean ones below; these are ignorant of the occasions, and the other unmoved with them. It is in this, that stupidity arrives at the same point as wisdom, and Clowns are as happy as Philosophers, otherwise those that afflict themselves for a misfortune where there is no remedy but patience do entertain this error in the world, and have a whole moon in their head, when they think they have but half an one on their forehead. It is to be very senseless, to afflict one's self without obliging anybody, and make a damnation in this world, for fear of missing it in the next. If the mistrust of jealous ones be known, they augment the ill instead of the redress; if it be not, it is superfluous, and it is a hidden pain which silence and modesty render more supportable. I do not wonder if jealous ones be lean, their passion feeds on nothing but phantasms. Good wits restrain their curiosity, while indifferent ones let it lose to learn what should be unknown; not considering that in the commerce of this world, the most exact do not make best their accounts. If we could regulate well our opinions, we should suppress many enemies. Melancholy and meditations entertain jealousy; diversion and forgetfulness put it away. Wit as well as sight wearies, when it is fixed too long on one object. In these occasions we must overcome, as the Parthians do by flying, and rather divert our thoughts, then direct them with too much intentiveness; it is an enemy with poisoned weapons, and his approach is enough to overthrow; when the memory has once received it, reason comes often too late for a resistance. One may hinder the entrance, but it never goes out before it has ruined the host. Cydippus among the Romans, was so pleased to see bulls baited, as he thought so much of it all night, as he rose in the morning with horns on his head. This spectacle pleasing him, he had entertained his fancy with it, and in the end his imagination did him this ill office. 'Tis thus that many make their heads ache without considering that their unquietness and curiosity is hurtful to them, because if they discover their suspicions to be false, they are obliged to repentance; if they find them true, they cannot be too miserable for being too curious. Those that think jealousy or envy was the sin of the Angels, do half justify those that have this passion, since Angels were capable of it with all their illumination, which is so above the reach of men. But we learn too by this example, that it was that which made hell, and that every day renders many miserable, by their own delights, even to drive lovers out of Paradise, if there be one in imaginary contentments. There is no malice black enough to blind this passions capacity, it gives craft to the dullest, and perverts the most virtuous, to seek satisfaction for this injury.  
Cyrce jealous of Silla, fearing that Glausus was in love with her, poisoned the water where she did ordinarily bathe, to make a monster of a nymph. Murder, poison and witchcraft are but sports; jealousy has no bound to its inventions and crimes, but impossibility; 'tis strange, that those that pass their time, are notwithstanding jealous of their husbands, and violate the law of nature, as well as of Divinity, not enduring to be paid what they lend. Women are most commonly debauched, because they practise what they fear, and their apprehension arises from their experience. Jealous spirits never confess their error, but when there is no help for it. All the world knows Herod's suspicions of Mariana, only because she was handsome, having no other ground to believe her faulty, but because her merit might make her be solicited; but what fury and rage is this, after that he had put this innocent Lady to death, he calls for her, as if she had not been dead, and thinks to find her in his palace, as if he had not sent her to her grave? This Tyrant would have committed many of their crimes in a month, since he forgot them so soon, and had as ill a memory as a judgement. Jealousy carries us out of ourselves; we have some reason to disavow the effects of it, when we are come back, and when we consider the malice and extravagancy of it. We do often by his example grieve many to death by our suspicions, and then we sorrow for it to no purpose, rendering them their reputation by our repentance, but not their life which they have given to Melancholy, because we do too late convict our blindness, to justify their innocence. The reports of ill spoken women, made Prochis jealous of her husband Shafalus; she imagined he had a Mistress, which he went to seek in the woods, under the pretence of hunting; she hid herself behind a bush, thinking to hear the discourse of his solitary thoughts; he hearing a noise, and believing it was a Deer, shot an arrow at it, which hit her in the heart, she dying, cried out, Cephalus. This word made him know, that he had taken his wife for a beast, it may be he was not deceived, it is to be very senseless, so lightly to abandon our reason, & give a belief to our worst interpretation of the best things.  
An ingenuous liberty is a better guard than any restraint, freedom extinguishes desire, and interdiction kindles it. When the opportunities of sin are common, they are neglected, when they are rare, they are made use of lest they should not be met with again so commodiously. In any case, how extreme soever jealousy were, methinks, the jealousy of Vulcan should remedy it; when he was jealous of Mars and Venus, he spread nets to take them in presence of all the gods, but afterwards what got he by all his curiosity and dexterity, but to be declared infamous with more solemnity, even to be thrown from heaven with a broken leg?  
Yet for fear of being deceived in this matter, we must take notice, that jealousy is for love, envy for fortune, and emulation for virtue; the goods of fortune are too gross and material, those of love too light for our minds, only those of virtue deserve to be made their object. 'Tis for her only that competitors endure one another in their designs, and there is no more sedition or dispute amongst them, then there is for the impropriation of the light of the Sun, or the influence of the Stars. So we see among the ancients, that the three Graces hold one another by the hand, and are united in the alliance of virtue, while the three Goddesses are quarrelling for the apple of beauty, and the Triumvirate cannot agree about the possession of the Empire. If we must join for this, Christianity to morality, to find retreats for the persecution of jealousy, let us make use of holy Joseph and the Virgin to teach us, that the chastest of women, has made jealous the simplest of men. There is sometimes more misfortune in it then ill meaning; we must neglect the apparencies like him, and suffer suspicions like her. It is no small consolation to think, that after all the proofs and testimonies that may seem to constrain us to conclude ill, it is better in this extremity to believe a miracle than a sin, and to acknowledge the power of God, rather than the weakness of the creature.  
FINIS.    

Pag. 78. last line but two, read forgive▪ line penult. read rules▪ line ult, read mind.   

A Catalogue of Books Printed for, and sold by Gabriel Bedel, and Thomas Collins, 1656. viz.  

Books in Folio.  

THE Complete ambassador, by Sir Dudley Diggs, Containing the Letters and Negotiations of Sir Francis Walsingham, the Lord Burleigh, and other Eminent Persons: being a perfect Series of the most remarkable Passages of State, both at home and abroad, in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth of blessed memory.  
The History of the Civil Wars of France, Written in Italian by D' Avila, Translated into English by Sir Charles Co●terel Knight, and William Aylesbury Esq the whole fifteen Books.  
Idem, The Continuation alone being ten Books.  
Sir Richard Baker's History of the Kings of England.  
Stow's Chronicle, continued to the year 1631. by Edmund Howe's Gentleman, with an Appendix of the Universities of England.  
Seldeni Eadmerus.  
Idem, His Mare Clausam.  
Idem, His Notes or Illustrations on Palaealbion.  
The History of the Reign of King Henry VII. written by the Right Honourable Francis Lord Verulam, Viscount S. Alban; unto which is annexed a very useful Table.  
The Life and Reign of King Henry VIII, written by the Right Honourable Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury.  
Orlando Furioso, in English Heroical Verse, by Sir. John Harrington Knight, with the Addition of the author's Epigrams.  
The Marrow of the French Tongue, by John Woodro●ph.  
Babbingtons' Fire works, with logarithms.  
A French English Dictionary, with another in English and French, compiled by Mr. Randal Cotgrave: whereunto are added, the Animadversions and Supplement of James Howel Esq.  
Usserii Annales, in two Volumes in Latin.  
Devotions upon certain Festivals, piously and learnedly expressed in Meditations, by that Accomplished Gentleman, William Austen of Lincolns-Inn Esq.  
Of Government and Obedience, as they stand directed and determined by Scripture and Reason, four Books by John Hall of Richmond Gentleman.  
Dalton's Country justice, Corrected and enlarged by the Authors own hand before his death; unto which is Annexed, an Appendix or abridgement of all the late Acts and Ordinances that relate to the Office of a Justice of Peace, to the year 1655. by a Gentleman learned in the laws.  
A Collection of Acts, in the years, 1648, 1649, 1650, 1651. very useful especially for Justices of the Peace, and other Officers, with several other Ordinances of like concernment, by Henry Scobel Esq Clerk of the Parliament. In copartnership with Mr. Lee and Mr. Pakeman.    

Books in Quarto.  

Cabala, sive Scrinia Sacra, Mysteries of State and Government, in several Embassies and Letters, by the great Ministers of King James and King Charles, collected by a Noble hand, in two Parts.  
Mr. Selden's History of tithes.  
Clavels Recantation, or Discovery of the highway Law.  
Powell's Search of Records.  
Three Readings by the Lord Dyer, Brograve and Rysden of Wills, Jointures and Forcible entry.  
The Arguments of the Learned judges, upon the Writ of Habeas Corpus, with the opinion of the Upper Bench Court thereupon, with Sir John Elliot's Case.  
Miscellanea Spiritualia, first and second Part, written by the Honourable Walter Montague Esq Abbot of Nantuel.  
Barclayes Argenis, Englished by Sir Robert Le Grey's Knight.  
The Christian Man, or the Reparation of Nature by Grace, written in French by that Elegant and Pious Author, John Francis Sennault, Englished by H. G. Master of Arts, and Student of Christ's Church in Oxford.  
potter's Interpretation of the Number 666.  
The Perfect Conveyancer.  
shoppards' Legal part of tithes.  
The History of the Grand Seigneurs seraglio, unto which is added the History of China.  
Ross against Copernicus and Gallilaus, concerning the earth's motion.  
Mr Durham's Assize Sermon at Warwick before the Judges, 1651.  
Palmerin D' Oliva, both parts complete.  
The Jesuit the Chief, if not the only State heretic in the World, or the Venetian Quarrel, by Dr. Swadlin.    

Plays.  

The devils an ass, by Ben Johnson. in Folio.  
The Marriage of the Arts, in Quarto, by Barton holiday.  
The just General, in Quarto.  
The Bastard, in Quarto.  
The Raging Turk, or Bajazet the II.  
The courageous Turk, or Amurath the I.  
The Tragedy of Orestes, in quarto.  
Written by Thomas Goffe, Master of Arts, and Student of Christ's Church Oxford.  
The Wits  
The Plationick Lovers  
The Triumphs of Prince D' Amour, a Mask.  
Written by Sir Will. D' Avenant, in quarto.  
The Faithful shepherdess, by John Fletcher Gentleman.  
The merry wives of Windsor, by Shakespeare, in quarto.  
Edward the IV. the first and second part, in quarto  
Micha●lmas Term, in quarto.  
Fine Companion, in quarto.  
Capils' whirligig, in quarto.  
The phoenix, in quarto.  
Love in its ecstasy, in quarto.  
The Combat of Love and Friendship, by Dr. Mead.  
The Martyr.  
Horatius.  
S●avol●, now in the Press  
Three Tragedies by Sir William Lower Knight in quarto.  
The Hectors, or the False Challenge, a Comedy newly written, by a Person of Learning and Eminency; wherein is discovered the humours of our present Hectors, false Gamesters, etc: in quarto.    

Books in Octavo.  

Horace, englished by Richard Fanshaw Esq  
An Apology for Learning and Learned Men, by Edward Wa●erhouse, Esq  
Idem, His two Divine Tracts.  
shepherd's justice of Peace, two parts with Additions. In Copartnership with W. L. and D. P.  
Idem, His Court-Keepers Guide.  
Idem, His clerk's Cabinet, or precedents.  
A Learned Treatise of the Common laws of England, by Francis White Esq, barrister of grays-inn. In copartnership with W. L. and D. P.  
Lambard's Archeion, or Comment on the High Courts of Justice.  
The parson's Law.  
Ashes Tables to the Lord Cook's Eleven Reports, English. In copartnership with W. L. and D. P.  
Davenports abridgement of the Lord Cook's Institutes English.  
The Nuptial Lover  
Hippollito and Isabel  
Two small Romances.  
Brinsley's small Copy-Books. 3 d. price.  
Callendarium pastoral, by Theodoro Bathurst, Latin and English.  
The Countess of Arundels Experiments.  
A Synopsis, or compendium of the Fathers in English.    

Books in Twelves.  

Sir Henry Wotton's Works.  
The Book of Oaths.  
Ross his Cases of Conscience.  
Of Liberty and Servitude, in English, by I. E. Esq.  
Jacksons Evangelical Temper.  
Balzacks' Prince, in English.  
Malvetzies' politic Christian favourite, or the Life of C. Olivarez.  
The State of France English, published by I. E. Esq  
Hayward's Life and Reign of Edward the VI.  
Supplementum Lucani, by Thomas May, Anglo.  
The accomplished Woman, written by the Right Honourable Walter Montague Esq.  
Steps of Ascension to God, or a Ladder to Heaven, Containing Prayers and Meditations for every day of the week, and all other Occasions, by Edward Gee, Doctor in Divinity, now the ninth time reprinted.     

Courteous Reader,  
You may please to take notice, that here are some few plays worn out of print, which we purpose to reprint; and there are several other Books in the Note also grown scarce, and but small numbers left. The reason of this intimation, or printed Catalogue, is to perpetuate the memory of the said Books and Copies belonging to your Servants,  
G. B. and T. C.  
FINIS.