RELAT●… Of ten Years travel IN Europe, Asia, Africa▪ and America.  
All by way of Letters occasionally written to divers noble Personages, from place to place; And continued to this present year▪  
By RICHARD FLECKNO.  
WITH Divers other Historical, Moral, and Poetical pieces of the same Author.  
Haec olim meminisse juvabit.  
LONDON, Print●d for the Author, and are to be sold by 〈◊〉   

The Epistle Dedicatory. To all those Noble Personages mentioned in these following Letters.  
TO you, with good Reason I dedicate these Letters, to whom they were writ, and to whom I have Dedicated myself: For whilst others were desirous of pleasures, Ambitious of honours, or Covetous of wealth, you were all in all to me, all my pleasure, all my honour, all my wealth; nor had I other desire nor Ambition, but of you; so became I more dese●ving, similitude of disposition best gaining and conserving friends, knowing you were not to be purchased bu● by worth, nor conserved but by merit. Never any man than gained more by his friends than I, not without some acknowledgement to mine Enemies, (of whom I should have fewer, if they would be content to stand Neuters) Of which sort though I make no mention, yet had I ever some who added sharp spurs unto me of doing well, not to afford them the pleasure of my doing Ill: as soldiers in battle, are most commonly as much encouraged to fight, to deprive their Enemies of the Victory, as to gain it for their friends. Accept then of this Dedication, and be still to me as you have ever been, so shall I study still to be always to you as I have been,  
Your, etc▪   

To the Reader.  
Gentle Reader,  
'tIs for no vaunt nor boast that I write my Travails (I esteeming myself (I can assure thee) a far less traveller now (having sailed of seeing the East-Indies, and consequently all the Eastern Monarchies) than I did when I past over Seas to Zealand first) but to satisfy the curiosity of some noble friends, and make honourable mention of others, to whom I am infinitely obliged, (so thou wilt find whilst I make but slight mention of those, I am most accurate in mentioning these) nor is it vani●y in me, that I make mention of so many, and noble ones, all that know me, knowing I never willingly converse but with the noblest in every place, finding them still in every respect the best; besides, since Fortune maimed me, and brought me to my Crutches, whom should I rely upon but the best able to support me? which they the more willingly do (perhaps) because I lean so lightly on them, and always strive to afford them some pleasure for the profit I receive of them. And thus much for that, for the following Letters, I must advertise thee, that most of those writ abroad are but translated out of the several Languages I writ them in originally, nor art thou to imagine them less English for that, there being as much difference betwixt the Authors translating his own conceptions, and those of an others, as betwixt a prentices copying, and a Painters drawing the same piece again, the one having a dead Copy for imitation, the others pieces being all drawn upon the life. For the rest, some faults thou must allow the Printer, & some me, neither having bee● so accurate as they might have been, and for all testimony of friends, give me leave to prefix only this following one be●ore my Book, Qui mihi mille testes erit.   

To the Lord Marquis of NEWCASTLE.  
Who in Answer to a Copy of Verses of his sent him these following,  
FLeckno thy verses are too high for me,  
Though they but justly fit thy Muse and thee,  
Caesars should be thy theme on them to write,  
Though thou'dst express them more than they could ●ight,  
Those Worthies rank them in thy wits pure fil●,  
Though Homer's blush, and Virgil's lofty stile:  
For thy poetic Flame is so much higher,  
Where it should warm, 't consumes us with thy fire.  
Thy vaster fancy does embrace all things,  
And for thy Subject ought t' have greatest Kings.  
My Lord,  
I received the Verses you honoured me withal, which impose on me a necessity of deserving them, although I do not yet; to which end I know you writ them (for 'twere ●oo great presumption in me to imagine you flattered me) it being one of the Gentlest Arts of friendship, laudando praecipere, to praise one for somewhat they are not, to incite them to what they are praised for; yet must I glory in it, and publish it everywhere; Since, if as Cicero says, laus est laudari à laudabili viro, 'tis only true praise to be praised by a praiseworthy man, how glorious must it be to me to be praised by the most praise worthy-man alive? by one who has the most of the noble man in him, the most of true greatness, and who is of so equal a mind in all fortunes, as prosperous could never elate, nor adverse e'er depress; no more My Lord but the assurances that I shall always be  
Your lordship's most &c.   

I. To Col. Will. Euers from Gant, Anno 40.  
The Reasons of his Going over Seas.  
Noble Sir,  
THere are divers Birds that fly away, when storms and Winter comes, one of those Birds am I: for all prognostics Mariners observe of ensuing Storms, I have observed in England, the billows beginning to swell high, and those Porpoic●s which, were the Times fa●r and serene, should be i'th' Bottom, dancing on the Top. Mean time, let your vast and strong built Carracks ride out the storm for me, I'm too weak and slight-built a Vessel for Tempestuous Seas; Besides educated as I am, in the Arts of Peace, (music and Poetry) and your music of Base, Superious, and Rect●r chori, o●King, Peers and Commons being all di●consorted, the Base neither admitting of Master of the choir to moderate it, nor Superious to consort with 't, without which, 'tis rather a Loud Tumultuous noise, than music and harmony: England is no place for me, and for Poets, they are well feigned to delight in Hills and Mountains, where there are always some Eminences above Lycurgus valleys, or fields of standing Corn, where all heads are equal, England begins to be a place too much overgrown with Shrubs and Underwoods for me. And thus much for my leaving it. Now for my Retreat hither, 'twas altogether without design; I, like one who flies an Incendium, wholly indifferent whither I went, so I saved myself; and if any thing turned the scale for Flanders, 'twas its near vicinity to England; and for Gant, because 'tis the chief Town here, (whosoever would know any thing, or be known in any place, being ever to reside in the principalst City of ●●e Country where he is) yet did Fortune, (the best director of indifferent Things) dispose it better for me, than council or D●liberation could (the Directors of things where there is choice and difference) I lighting hear on a neat Town, Good Air, and excellent Company, of the Count Salazar Governor o● the citadel, his Lady, the Baron Re●●urt her noble Brother, the Blangelvals, the M●rquiss of Libourg●, with divers others of the Nobility, extremely courteous and obliging, (as most commonly they are all, when out of Court and Competency with others) amongst these I am daily Conversant, there is no Feast nor party without me. In all their sports and Exercises I must make one, for their Games, they teach them me, and make me win, or if I chance to lose, they are as much concerned as for their own losses, and more than I am for mine. It were too great a vanity to tell you this, if it were not a greater Ingratitude to conceal it, and you know (Sir) I can so little conceal the honour my friends do me, as I publish every where the honour you do me, in being one of them, as that I have in being,  
Sir, Your, &c.   

II. To the Lord— from Gant, An. 41.  
With the Character and Epitaph of the Earl of STRAFFORD.  
My Lo●d,  
YOu would not believe me, when I told you which way things tended, and see what comes of it. One of you is brought unto the block already, for whom I have made this following Epitaph, 
To see such Heads off, on the Scaffold lie,  
Only to keep on th' Head of majesty,  
What is't, but Admonition to his Peers,  
S●ch Heads once off, 'tis time to look to theirs.  As for this following Character, because I know my Lord amongst your many other commendable qualities, you have this, not to Envy others commendations, I send it you withal.  

The Character of the Earl of Strafford.  
He was the fullest Man of all the Eminent parts and qualities of a Great Minister of State, as England ever bred, and both in Cabinet, and abroad, expressed it as fully too; his unhappiness 'twas, (or rather ours) that he lived not in happier Times (might have rather admired, than envied those parts of his) so as that Epitaph of Adrian the 6th, might well be applied to him, Proh! dolour quantum refert in que Tempora vel optimi cujusque virtus incidat. Many envied him, because few understood him, and 'tis almost to be wished that his Prince had not done't so well, since 'twas his overthrow (so much more it imports the People than the Prince be Good, they being many, and he but one.) He was a jewel sit for the Crown of any Prince to wear, and that his Prince well knew, and therefore wore him him there; but being matched, and overmatcht too with counterfeit ones, they fearing his splendour should dim and offuscat them, snatched him thence▪ and cast him into the obscurity of a Prison, from whence he might have escaped, had he preferred his Life before his Fame; but he had higher Thoughts, and looked only after eternity, and the perpetuating his Memory; so while 'twas irreparable loss unto the Crown, 'twas his gain to die with the glorious title, and high reputation of his Prince's Martyr. Nor wanted there as great prodigies at his death, as ever forerun any Heroes yet, all the Laws of the Land being first subverted, the King losing his Authority, and Kingdom changed into Democra●ie, Er' he could die: so as his noble House was more honoured and illustrated by his fall, than ever't could have been, even in his greatest rise.  
And now (my Lord) comfort yourself, if you chance to be the next, that you shall not want one to make your Epitaph, and Cha●acter at least; but I rather wish and hope 't may be your Elogium, in celebration of your Glorious Actions. For if things look towards a war, (as I'm afraid they do) 'twill be as well the Glory of your Judgement to choose the better side, as of your Valour to defend it bravely; for Valour is either Virtue or Vice, as 'tis well or ill employed; and 'tis hard to determine which is the greater Crime, to defend an Ill Cause well, or a good one ill: You then being of Brutus disposition, (Quicquid vult, valde vult) that is, vehement in all you undertake, I cannot end this Letter with a better Prayer, than God bless a good Cause from having you for Enemy, and God bless you from being friend unto an Ill; which is the prayer of  
My Lord, Your, &c.    

III. To Mr. Henry Petre from Gant, Anno 42.  
Of his Resolution ●o leave GANT.  
Noble Sir,  
I Have lived to see the day, when having lost all 〈◊〉 sinc●, I may thank God for having nothin● now, nor did I ever know how great a happiness 'twas, till I saw their unhappines●e, w●● are bemired and hog●'d in their own L●●●, and bound to the●r Countries by the ●ie● of ●●fe and Children: For what avails it such to ●●ve their Bodies free abroad, whilst their Souls are imprisoned at home? or to fly the miseries of the●r Country, whilst they have lef● Pledges with Fortune there to be miserabl● still? I speak this in regard of many Engli●● here, retired (as they imagine) from the noise and Tumult in England, whil●● their ea● are as much beaten with it here, and thei● minds as much solicited and perplexed, as they were present there. They receiving wee●ly Intelligence from their Wives, friends and Servants there? This, that his house is plundered; that, that his Tenants refuse to pay their Rent; a third, that his Estate is sequestered, &c. when I must make sad faces with them ●or company, or they cry out, I care not how things go. I answer, If my care could remedy it, I should; And for their Losses, I protest they touch me as nearly, and ●'m as sorry for them, as I should be for my own, and if that suffice not, I am sorry Nature made me not of another Temper and Disposition for their sakes; Neither was this any Sto●cal Indolency in me, who could suffer, nay die for a Friend, but yet without trouble and vexation. In ●ine, I'm so wearied out with this sad sport, as (not to be made miserable at second hand) I'm resolved to quit this place, and retire me to Antwerp or Bruxelles (for I'm indifferent for either) you laugh now at my Indifferency, but may I die, or lose your friendship, which is more, if I find it not an Immense happiness to say with Bias, Omnia mea mecum porto, and while others by heaping up wealth on wealth, make themselves at last so cumbersome a load of it, they cannot stir for it; I by reducing all to the narrow compass of one Portmanteau, travel lightly up and down, enjoying that Liberty, Fortune has bestowed on me, and Nature inclines me to, wanting nor wishing for nothing more (Sir) than your Company, being as I am,  
Sir, Your, &c.   

IV. To the Lady Audley, from Bruxelles, Anno 42.  
Of his arrival there.  
Madam,  
I Am at last arrived at Bruxelles, where for some Time I intend to stay, having by rolling up and down like a snowball contracted so many Acquaintances, as I am now encompassed with them, and in the centre of them all. The Town is exceeding pleasant, the nobility numerous, and Ladies generally handsome, more sprightly than the English, and of graver Temper than the French; (in a word, Madam, just like your sel●) to tell you of their Generous Actions, (For I know you love Generosity, and they but imitate you in it) the marchioness of Bergues, Mother of those two incomparable Ladies, the Duchess of L●rein, and Mad●moiselle d● Beauvais, after my first visit, singling me from the Company, told me, that since she kn●w those of my Country and Condition (as the Times went) could not be so well accommodated, she should take it ill of me, if in my wants I had recourse to any but herself. To whom I answered, (after my most humble remerciments for so high a favour) That as I yet wanted nothing: so 'twas now impossible I ever should, having the honour of her good Graces, which I beseeched her to continue only, and I should be Rich enough. After this, visiting Madam Berlamont, (whose very Name is story) she freely and nobly offered me the honour of her Table during my abode in Bruxelles, where only Eat herself, her two Neices, Daughters to the Duke of Arschot, and the young Prince of Arembergh his Son, whence you may conjecture how great an honour 'twas, but much more by that which followeth.  
She having the great Spirit of the Nobility here, not only Hereditary, but almost all contracted in herself, not brooking the Spanish domination (besides some P●cque with the Infanta) was banished the Court to her House at Audenard, where for some years she lived retired, like a Great Princess as she was, till at last (the Infanta dead) her Banishment was exchanged, for Confinement to her House at Br●xelles, which she carried so wisely, and so cunningly dissembled at her Return, as making virtue of necessity, she reclused herself in her own House, as in a Monastery, together with her Neices, every one the whilst envying her felicity, accounting ●t a point of solemn greatness in her, to be visited by all, without obligation of re●v●siting any, and of great happiness to live so in the world, as she were ou● of it▪ and so out of it, as she enjoyed it more than those who were in it, living at vast expense, keeping a Noble Train and Tabl●, wanting no pleasures nor delights a plenteous Fortune could procure, or honourable mind could wish, having Woods, Gardens, fishponds, Banqueting-houses, all within the incinct and enclosure of the Walls, with cooling Fountains, where under the shadow of fresh arbours, she eats all the Summer Time. And in that state she was, when she offered me the honour of her Table, and freedom of her House; which her nobleness not suffering my Modesty to re●use, imagine Madam, what a delicious life I lead, in so noble Company, so splendous Entertainment, and so Magnificent Equipage; which that you may not think too voluptuous a life, 'tis requisite you know, that the Mornings we employ in our Devotions in the Chap●ll of her Monastery, into which she has a door opening out of her House, where on Sundays and holidays is frequent concourse of all the Nobler sort, to hear the N●ns music, absolutely the best in Bruxelles, for Voice and Instrument. You'll pardon Madam, my tediousness in relating these particulars, and consider how hard it is to moderate one's self in so great felicity, which yet I can assure you, without compliment, I would exchange, were it far greater than it is, for one day at Holicroft, or whersoever you are. Mean time be pleased to believe, that wheresoever I am, nothing can change me from being  
Madam, Your, &c.   

V. To Mr. Edward Lewis at the Spa, from Bruxelles, Anno 43.  
Of Conve●sation with Ladies.  
Noble Sir,  
YOurs from the Spa I received by the last, for your news I thank you, that of the Prince of Gaure was welcome to Madamoiselle d' Arschot, and more to Madam Bar●amont, who both command me to present their best respects and remembrances unto you. But now touching our quarrel.  
You wonder I am always amongst the Ladies, and I wonder, you and all men are not so; for amongst them, one learns nothing but virtue, high honour and nobleness, whilst amongst Men (such is the corruption of the Times) one learns nothing but Libertinage, Vice and debauchery; Mistake me not yet I mean not all Women, but only such you left me with, and Madamois●lle de Beauvais, whom I look not upon as Woman, but virtue's self; of whom you remember I said upon another occasion, that 
She was so wrapped up from our mortal s●nce,  
In all that's Exc●llent, as one by one  
Unfolding her out every Excellence,  
You never should unto bare Woman come.  Nor mean I all Men neither, but only your young Gallants of the Time, who have little of the Court, less of the School, and all of the Bourdel in them; who, whilst they learn only to manage the Sword, lea●e the Ladies in possession of their Books at home: and at best, talk of nothing but ramparts and Parapats, Mosquetad●, Estramacons, and Canonads: so as you have nothing but the noise of Drums and Trumpet in your head, whilst they are present, and the ringing of it in your ears a month after they are gone. I know too there are bad Women in the world, such who have put off Woman, and put on Impudence; but I thank God I know them not, nor ever mean to do: So are there many learned and pious men; but still methinks they are but Men, and have their Imperfections. If they be learned, they are most commonly too positive and Magisterial, and so opiniatre, as none's opinion must be heard, but theirs. 'Tis a Tyranny to converse with them, and Conversation, you know, should be a republic, where every one's discourse and opinions should be Free: So your Pious men have somewhat in them (commonly) of t●e supercilius, rather deterring than inviting to their conversation; They would have all Grave like themselves, without distinction of Age nor persons; every thing is Vanity with them, every thing Levity: which quality till they sweeten, they are too Austere for me. Now for your Ladies, without noise and quarrel you converse with them, there is no contention with them, but in court●sie; they gently give you their opinions, and let you retain your own; they pursue not contention, but Truth, and have no Author to maintain beyond it; their virtue is charming, and Honour without boast; and finally, 'tis pleasure, not pain, to converse with them. I grant you, they have their Imperfections too, but they are noble ones, and their Birth, their Education, and the modesty of their Sex, makes them nothing, in comparison with those of men; For example, an Oath, an Obs●ene word with them is horror and blasphemy, that is but sport and gallantry with Men. But what do I talk of Imperfections, having so newly mentioned Mad. de B. with whom Imperfections the same day are not to be named, and of whom I must make more haste to speak, whilst she is effable, she advancing so fast towards perfection, as she will be ineffable e'er long, and here I must end, since having but named her, I have no more to say, but to admire, and abruptly to tell you that I am,  
Sir, Your, &c.   

VI. To the Lord— from Bruxelles, Anno 44.  
Of his Resolution to tra●el into ITALY.  
My Lord,  
YOu will wonder, living so deliciously as I do, so as 'tis the general voice of Brussels, None lives but I, every day with Madamoiselle de Arschot and the Princess d'H●ghzolern in the Park, singing, and making M●sick at foot of every Tree, and head of every Fountain, every day in Feasts at home, or Collations abroad, I can resolve so soon to quit Brussels, having scarcely yet resided here a year; And you will lay perhaps, (as others do) that I am unconstant, fickle, and even weary of mine own ●●licitie. But I will tell you now, in confidence, my Reason for't. 'tis no Inconstancy, but rather a constancy to my first Resolution of ●lying war and trouble, makes me now resolve to leave this Country, and travel into Italy; Nor could I excuse it to mine own Country, should I longer stay here, where the French and Hollander betwixt them, wast and consume this Country; just like a Taper lighted at both Ends; nor is there any retreat here from the noise of war and Tumult, every place being frontier to some Enemy or other; nay the very Walls of some Towns (so narrowly they are pressed) frontier unto both. Mean time, imagine with what heart I can behold so many noble creatures (so nobly obliging me) suffering under so many heavy Calamities, one's Territory spoiled, an others Castles razed unto the ground, and all reduced by it to such want and poverty, as I heard a Great Princess say not long since, after she had reformed her House and Family almost to a fourth part, That she feared she should be forced to Spinn to maintain the rest. Yet do they venture Lives & Fortunes here to maintain their King in possession of his own, whilst better cheap they might be subject to an other Prince, and change hands, only by crossing of their Arms, and sitting still (a rare Example of Loyalty in Subjects now adays.) Italy then, being the only Country now free from Wars, and the miseries it brings in train of it, thither I resolve to go, in search of that Peace all countries have lost but it. And if you ask me, with what heart I can leave this Noble Company, I am so much obliged unto? Truly, just with such an one as I should depart with Life, or whatever were dearer unto me than it; Nor could I ever resolve to do it, without hope of returning soon again, and some sudden change of Fortune. Mean time, part of my Grief, and resentment of my departure, I have endeavoured to express in this following copy of Verses, which, cause they are but short, I send you here. 
Absence, that in each soft and gentle mind,  
With parting friends dost leave a sting behind;  
Just like the Bee, but with far different Fate,  
Thou wounding where thou lov'st, they where they hate:  
Since Destiny of things would have it so,  
What most we love, with pain we should for go;  
And that the smart of all loved things be such,  
Nothing hereafter may I love too much:  
So, though I prove less happy by't, ('tis true)  
I shall, withal, be less unhappy too.  This, my Lord, if you shall read with some reflection to yourself, you shall do but Justice to  
Your Lordships, &c.   

VII. To Madamoiselle de Beauvais, from Paris, Anno 44.  
Of his arrival at PARIS.  
Madamoiselle,  
IN compliance with my Duty, and your Commands, I shall have the honour to let you understand that I am arrived at Paris, (thanks to Count Grancy, who arrested all my Company (except myself) for coming to Gravelling out of the enemy's Country, without passport. For Paris, what should I say of it, but that 'tis one of the greatest Cities in the World? and where there is the greatest disorder; 'tis all Hurry, and one spends more spirits with noises here in a week, than he can recover in a years Solitude. They account their Kingdom greater than any three of the King of Spain's, and so they may this City, than any three of his Cities, Madril, S●vil, and Salama●ca, for Court Ville Marchante, and university, not being altogether to be comp●r'd with it. For the rest, leaving every one to admire somewhat or other here, even to that Italian prelate, who admired the Great abundance of Cooks shops, and Alloys of beef. I admire nothing in it; for he arriving at admiration, who go●s but a step beyond that he Knows already, I (mademoiselle) am gone a step beyond Admiration itself, in knowing you. I dare make no stay here, for fear of being tempted to longer stay; nor visit any, for fear of engaging myself in too many Visits, the abstinence from things being sar easier than the Temperance of them; wherefore tomorrow I depart for Lions, and so forwards on my journey towards Italy. Of the progress of my Voyage I shall not fail to advertise you from place to place, since you do me the honour to permit me, and esteem me for.  
Your, &c.  
Postscript:  
My most humble Baisemains I beseech you to the Lady marquess your noble Mother, to Madamoiselle d' Arschot when you see her, and all the rest.   

VIII. To the same from Marseilles, Anno 44.  
The Description of the place.  
Madamoiselle,  
BY my last from Paris I had the honour to write unto you, Now this is (if you please) to let you understand, that the next day I departed thence with the Messenger for Lions, from thence down the Rhosne by water to Avignon, and from thence by Horse to Marseilles all my journey through France being only a bon voyage, or pleasant journey in excellent company, with Wines that would tempt a Nazareth, and Flesh and foul that would deboish a Minime. For Marseilles, 'tis one of the delightfullst places as yet I ever saw, situated in a corner of the Mediterranean sea, at equal distance betwixt Spain and Italy, enjoying in a more temperate climate than either, all the commodities of both. The Sea tamed and broken by the force of the opposite Hands before it arrives unto the walls, flows thither, (leaving all its rag●ngnes behind) as gently as any River, when by an inlet entering the Port it becomes as calm and smooth as any Lake. The Town on the left hand of it Theater-wise, (with one house elevated above an other) seeming situated on purpose to behold the pleasant spectacle of the Port (some two miles about in Oval form) where ride all the French Galleys, so evenly ranked, as whilst their Becks like a stand of Pikes seem to charge the Water, their Prows seem to assault the Land, and brave the Cawsway surrounding all the Port, where towards the Town-side the Ladies accompanied with their Gallants walk every Evening some ten or twelve a breast, sollacing themselves with music and Conversation till Midnight; Nor shall you easily find anywhere in France bandsomer Women, better behaved, nor richlier clad, so accostable and free of Company and Entertainment, as none (no not strangers themselves) are strangers there to any: ●o as comparing them with the Maritime Women of other Seas, (for the most part fowl, ugly, and weather-beaten) you would easily conclude, 'twas only on those Seas Venus was born. For the Town, 'tis rather well compact, than great, and more commodious than magnificent, containing about some seventeen thousand Houses within the walls, and without (on the adjacent Hills and valleys) some two and twenty thousand more: so as you'd imagine them an Army of Houses in disrout, or the greatest part o'th' town broke out the walls, their incinct not being capacious enough to contain them all. To these Bastids or Houses of Pleasure, in Spring and Summer time, (which is with them almost all the year) they retire themselves, and pass their Time in nothing but Sports and Jollity, where for more than this fortnight I have past my Time amongst the rest, in expecting the commodity of Embarquement for Genoa. Mean time, mademoiselle, be you who are patroness of my Voyage, but as propitious to me by Sea as you by Land have been, and I shall soon be at my journey's end, of which I can no ways doubt, being as I am,  
Madamoiselle, Your, &c.   

Ix.. To the same from Genoa, Anno 45.  
Of his arrival there.  
Madamoiselle,  
With good Reason I imagined my Voyage by Sea would prove as fortunate as my journey by Land, having you for patroness of either; We having past with favourable Wind, and prosperous Navigation from Marseilles hither, frighted only a little with pirates on our way, which necessitated us to put in at Monaco, where for some four or five days during my Residence there, the Prince did me the honour to lodge me in his palace, being a great Vertuoso, and not only a great Lover of music, but an excellent musician. He is really a Prince very noble and generous, deserving a far greater Principality, it being only a Rock or Promontory into the Sea, some mile about, o'● looked by Horrid Cliffs, hanging like Clouds or Tempests in the air, threatening each moment to fall upon their heads. It has a pretty Port, capable of some twenty Ships and Galleys, which is his chiefest Revenue, every Ship paying some 3 Crowns for Anchorage; yet is his palace magnificently built, a●' Italian, and richly and nobly furnished. And so much for Monaco. From whence I embarked for Genoa in the Princes own Faluque, all the strand of Genoa for more than ● hundred mile seeming but one continued Town, allowing the interjacent Mountains and Valleys for Gardinage, planted with all sorts of delicious fruit, Oranges and Limmons amongst the rest, in so great abundance, as their flowers perfume the Sea all the way you pass along. Arrived at last at St. Pietro d' 〈◊〉, the Suburbs of Genoa, you would imagine that Architecture had installed there all the ra●ities of its Art, and given the last proof o● i●s excellency, it being a seminary of Palla●es; no one plot in the world, for its bigness, being able to show so many and so stately, 〈…〉. From thence passing by the 〈◊〉 po●t into the Town, first thing you admire for 'tis Admirable all) is its Mole or Wall, forced all along into the Sea to secure the Haven, rampired with whole Rocks thrown in at foot thereof, to break the fury of the waves, in beholding which, you would imagine, that as the Giants formerly piled Mountains on Mountains to scale the Heavens: so▪ these threw one upon another to penetrate the abyss. Next prospect that takes your eyes, is that of the palace of the Duke ●'or●●, fronting the Haven with its Gardens, and Collosean Statuas, making a glorious show. Whence you pass onward towards the City, situated on rising ground, all built of white Stone, making a fairer show without, than it does within, by reason of the narrowness of the streets. Here I no sooner arrived, and had ta'en up mine inn, but the Marquis Philippo Palavicino fetched me straight away from thence, and lodged me in his palace, I easily imagining upon whose account it was, when that Night at Supper the marquess his Mother drank a health to all the Flanders Ladies, as he himself did afterwards, in a solemn Entertainment he made for me aboard one of the States ships in the Harbour, together with divers other noble Gen●ueses, where whilst he drank your health, echo reported to Land & Sea, the Fame of the Flanders Ladies, and the Canon unto the skies; 'twere infinite to tell you all my Entertainments here, all (Ladies) to express his Gratitude unto you, as I in Gratitude to him am obliged to let you know. One thing I observed here, that whilst they glory in being a free Estate, even to have Libertas written on the Arms of the Commonwealth, the Nobility notwithstanding abuse the Common people at pleasure, they having only the Liberty to hang themselves, if they please, for other Liberty they have none. Whence I see 'tis but a mere cheat this Popular Liberty, the enchantment of the vulgar, and G●ugaw they promise Children, to make them good boys; yet 't has been, and ever will be the madness of the Common people to go in quest of it, as Don Quixote did of his Dulcinea, or Sancho Pansa of his imaginary island or Government, which, just like your floating lands, slips away from you, when you think to set foot on it, and so eludes your imaginary possession, which those who govern them well understanding, they always delude them with that specious name, when in reality there is no such thing at all, the true liberty of the people only consisting in being well commanded, and the Magistrates in being well obeyed: From whence results the perfect Harmony of Kingdoms and Commonwealths, which then is disaccorded, when the one deflects to Tyranny, and the other to Riot and licentiousness, the one abusively called Absolute Domination, and the other Liberty: From whence finally results those two Extreme mischiefs of all Estates, by Fronto wisely observed to be equally dangerous, where all things are lawful, or where nothing is. But enough of this discourse: and to conclude with Genoa, their Churches here are most of them richly guilt, Marble being their vildest material, their music very good, but that of their Comedys excellent. I arriving here just at the overture of their theatre. By my next, mademoiselle, I shall have the honour to write unto you from Rome; towards which to morrow is going,  
Mademoiselle, Your, &c.   

X To the same from Rome, Anno 45.  
Of his A●ival t●ere, and ●●e Overture of some A●●ai●s.  
Madamoiselle,  
BY my last from Genoa you understood of my arrival there. Now this (if you please) is to let you understand, how from thence by Lucca, Pisa, Florence, S●ena, &c. finally I am arrived here at Rome, admiring nothing so much in all my voyage, than that from Bruxelles hit●er, having made the Tour of C●l●s, 't has cost me only two and twenty Pist●lles. Next day after my arrival here, I visited the Duke and Duchess of Boullon, who live here very privately since the last Pope's death, with the fall of the Barbarins, they f●lling l●●ewise in Credit and Authority: so they being no friends of her highness, (as you know) no matter how great Enemies they are. One pretty mistake I ran into at unawares, treating him with Excellence, (as formerly I was wont to do) when ●e pretends (as since I have understood) to be treated with Altezze, which I am glad of (who otherwise should be sorry to err in so main a point of Civility, in giving an Ace too little, rather than an Ace too much) since he treats her Altezze with nothing but Excellence. I have been also to visit the Marquis Rene Bentivolg●o, who retains still a grateful memory of the courtesy he received in Flanders of particulars, though as to the general he is so little friend, as I'm informed he is taking conditions under France. The Marquis Matthei I saw too, there being a solemn just or Running at Ring and Sarazen this week at the Cardinal d' Estes (where all the great Ladies of Rome were present) consisting of three Bolonez, three Ferrarians, and three Roman Knights; of which the Marquis Ma●thei was chief of the Romans, and Bentivolgio of the Bolonez, both doing excellent well, adding somewhat of the air of Flanders to that of Italy, that made them excel the rest. His highness' Agent in this Court I have not visited yet; thinking it high time, after I have prepared my materials, to assemble my Workmen for finishing the Edifice, towards which one main Help I hope to have of Cardinal Carasfa, newly promoted to the Cardinalat. More mademoiselle by the next: Now give me leave (if you please) to conclude this with my must humble baise mains to her highness your Sister, my Lady Marque your Mother, and with the Assurance that I am ever,  
Mademoiselle, Your, &c.   

XI. To the same, from Rome, Anno 45.  
Containing an Historical Narration of the marriage of the Duchess of Lorain.  
Madamoiselle,  
SInce those who are to Inform others ought first to be well informed themselves, you will please to correct me, if anywhere I have erred in this following Narration of her highness' Marriage, wherein, as 'tis my duty, I have endeavoured to vindicate the Justice of her Cause, and declare her Innocence.  
Henry Duke of Lorain dying without issue Male, leaving only two Daughters, Nicole and Claude. The Count of Vandemort (Father of the present Duke) assumed the duchy, as next Heir unto the House (by right o'th' Law Salic, as he pretended) in deffalance of the masculine Line (the Daughters of the last Duke but weakly reclaiming) when more to strengthen the title of his House (by connecting the branches of either Stock together) he proposed the Marriage of Charles his eldest Son, with the Princess Nicole, eldest Daughter of the deceased Duke, with Protestation in case of his refusal (well perceiving his unwillingness) to marry her to the Prince of Faulxburgh, and disinherit him, when he knowing there was no dallying with his Father, of stern nature, rendered more violent by opposition, seemingly assented, and so was forced to marry her, yet would he no ways bed her, such an Aversion he had from her, till his Father perceiving it, (and knowing he had done nothing, until he had done also that) he forced him to bed her in his presence, taking witness of it, as his son did presently after of the force thereof; who though a Religious Prince, was not Religious yet, to that point, to lose a Dukedom for want of bedding a Lady, shortly after his Father dying, he continued still his cohabitation with her, till having assured, as he thought, the possession of the duchy, they severed at last, like Bodies never well joined, having no other Issue of their marriage, but nails and teeth (as one said anciently) when he accounting himself free from all Bonds of Matrimony, (being assured so, by many grave Divines, not only of his own, but of others Dominions) after some years suit, & all the precedent formalities of the Church, married publicly the Lady Beatrix de Cus●nce, Princess of Cantacro●x, one of the consider●ble●t marriages then for noble, rich, and fair (under the degree of absolute sovereigns) in the Christian world, her House having often allied with that of Lorraine, and her Dem●ins when he married her (as I have often heard) amounting nigh to Thirty thousand pounds a year: In which marriage [Celebrated by a Bishop in the face of the public Church] they lived some 7 years happily together (he having fair Issue by her) when a storm was raised against them at Rome, by the suscitation (as was imagined) of his Brother Prince Francis, and the Princess Nicole, he (having espoused the second Daughter of Duke Henry, by whom he had numerous Issue) for the interest of his Children, and she for emulation, and Revenge on her fair Rival; which proceeded so far at last, as Excommunication was denoun●'t against them, not to be revoked, till they mutually separating, should submit their cause to the decision of the Court of Rome.  
This occasioned many Rumours in the world, some allowing no Divorce at all, but only by Death, (as if the tie of marriage were like that of the Gordian knot,) others inferring from their long Cohabitation, their validating the marriage, when all Casuists agree, that no length of Time can render that marriage or Contract lawful, which was unlawful at the first, and that force or metus cadens in constantem virum, (as they term it) was one of the principal Anullers of marriage, nothing being more essential to it than the free consent of the parties. Their long cohabitation than was still but the same force drawn out in length: And for their main objection of all, the Censure of the Church▪ What should I say? But many a verity may be doubtful, for want of being well explicated and understood, that Truth has no greater Enemy than verisimilitude and likelihood; and that the condemnation may oftentimes be just, and the person condemned innocent. This enclosed I beseech you to her highness, with the most humble baise mains of  
Madamoiselle, Your, &c.   

XII. To the Duchess of Lorraine, from Rome, Anno 45.  
Touching the state of her Affairs.  
Madam,  
AFter long poring in the dark, I begin at last to perceive some light in your highness' affairs here, and to find how his highness' Agents negotiation here, is more to take off the Excommunication, than to procure a Divorce from the first marriage, or Ratification of the last; and this I came to light of by this occasion: I recommending your Affairs the other day to the Duchess Matthei, one who can do all here, his holiness Governing Rome, Donna Olympia him, and she Donna Olympia. She most readily undertook it, first, for your highness' sake, next for her Brothers, and lastly perhaps for mine, (I having the honour to wait often upon her) commanding me to bring my Man, and his business should be dispatched. Whereupon I joyfully ran to inform his highness' Agent of what had past, imagining he would have run as joyfully to embrace the occasion, when contrary to my expectation, I found him nothing moved with it all, rather surprised, confused and Interdict, and so cold (in fine) as conecting delays unto delays, at last he absolutely refused to go, less he had his highness' warrant first, whi●h excuse appeared to me frivolous; for if he had order to do the thing, (as now I suspected he had none) what need he further order to do it well? This suspicion shortly after grew up to certitude, when discoursing with Cardinal Caraffa about your highness' affairs, and recommending to him the justice of your cause, and expedition of the Rhota, He answered me, with the prudence of an Italian, and franchize of a german, (with whom he was Nuntius, when I had the honour to know him first) that I urged the expedition of an affair, wherein they should disoblige both the Emperor and the Crown of France, without so much as gratifying the Duke himself, who being the main party, solicited it not at all; Whereupon I wondered at mine own blindness all this while, not to have perceived, how whilst the Emperor embraced Prince Francis interest, (who had put himself under his Protection) and the Crown of ●rance (for the same Reasons) that of the Princess Nicole's; his Alt●zze of Lorain had his Interest too, not to set the Princess Nicole at Liberty to marry with any other, till she were past estate of bearing children, lest some foreign Prince having issue by her, might claim the duchy in their right, to the Exclusion of his own House, if not of his own Body. This, Madam, I could not but represent to your highness' consideration, that you might perceive how all the World (not only there but here) is governed by Interest and Reason o● State, in spite of justice and Innocence. Mean time, for my part I can only assure your highness, that I have none, nor ever had other Ambition, than only (Madam) to declare upon all occasions how much I am  
Your highness' most humble, &c.   

XII. To Sir J. S. from Rome, Anno 4●.  
In answer to h●s Ne●s of the Scots comi●g into England.  
Noble Sir,  
I Give you humble thanks for your News, and if it were not an homely compliment, could wish it better for your sake: since if I be ned deceived, (as I shall never be, in thinking too well of a Scotch Pre●byterian) they come but into England with their Arms, as Butlers do at Christmas with their Cards, to set you a playing, that all the Gains may come to their Box at last; for if you remember, they have much to retaliate with the English, both for injuries and benefits; of the first sort are our often inroads into their Country, and the deadly feud of the Nations; of the second are our assisting them to change Religion, and rebel against their lawful Prince; Now, if they should have a mind to be quit with us, I know not whether 'twere not better have them Enemies than friends. And thus much for your news. Now for ours, I'll tell you a pleasant passage happened here about the Book you sent, in front or title thereof was a Dove, with an Olive branch in the mou●h, and the word or motto, Holy Innocence be blessed, (which if intended by the Scots, might better have been a Vulture, with its prey i'th' mouth, and this motto, cursed be their Rapine) which coming in conjuncture with his holiness Innocent the Tenth's assumption to the Papacy, whose Arms are a Dove, with an Olive branch in the mouth, 'twas interpreted as a prophecy of him, so ridiculous they are, wherefore prithee come up to Rome, that we may laugh at them, I being in mighty want of one, as Cicero says, Cum quo doctè rideam, that may laugh learnedly with me; for these Italians here are such wise men at home, and such Fools abroad, as they know nothing out of Italy, though they pretend to know every thing: And for the place, 'tis a common saying, that to like Rome, one must be either very virtuous or very vicious: if so, I am neither, for I swear I like it not. Good meat there is, delicious wine, and excellent fruit; but that is the climates virtue, and none of theirs. Give me good Company, good Natures, & good Mirth, & the Devil of any such thing they have here, all being for their Interest, and conserving their Individuums, I never hearing a hearty Laughter since I came, nor seeing a smile but from one end of the mouth to th'other. In a word, when you have seen their Ruins, you have seen all here; for all their ancient Virtues, like their ancient Structures, are fa●n to ruin: and for generosity and Magnificence, it seems to have died with the last Pope, for now there's none left alive; Yet do your Cardinals (I'll say that for them) live like great Princes as to the Exterior, with great trains of Coaches, Staffi●res and other dependencies; but examine their Interior, and you'll find, while their Bodies inhabit whole Acres of Palaces, their souls in their straight narrow bo●oms are stifled for want of Room. And ●hus much for the better sort; for the other, I must confess they are the civilest, and farthest from Quarrel in the world, (thanks to their cowardice) so as saying but con licenza, you may pluck them by the Noses, tread upon their Toes, or do any thing but touch their money or their Wives, and they'll tell ye, Vostre signiory e patrono. In fine, with the old you shall hear nothing but quattri●● in their mouths, and with the young Putana, yet with all these Vices, if you'll believe them, there a● nowhere in the world more Virtuoso's than here; for if an Ape do but his tricks well, or an Ass leap through a Hoop, they call him a Virtuoso strait. But you'll say this is an odd way to invite you hither; wherefore I'll take an other way, and tell you there is no Town nor Country in the World better governed than this, nor where there's more variety to satisfy the Curious, where one of your Religion lives more free, nor one of your knowledge better improves himself, (their very streets being as learned and full of Erudition, as others Histories) Every wall is a Monument, and the stones of more than a thousand years standing, stand up in testimony of their Religion, of the Truth of which, though there were no other Argument, yet 'twere enough to convince any Rational man, that it must needs be that Church and Religion our blessed Saviour promised perpetuity unto, since in so great corruption of manners it stands still, and falls not to the ground, while so many others who pretend to more virtue and morality of life, are wholly perished and decayed.  
Farewell, and prithee come up (I say again) that we may laugh, for I have great need of it,  
Your, &c.   

XIV. To the Lord Marquis Camillo Bagni, from Rome, Anno 45.  
Declaring unto him the nobleness of N.  
My Lord,  
SInce you did me the honour to make me of your Confidence at Bruxelles, 'tis but Justice I make you my Confident from hence, and discover t' ye a noble piece of bravery of the Admirable person we both Admire so much, ye can never Admire enough.  
Know then, that I lately received from mad. B. a Letter of Exchange, in so obliging terms as none but her own words can express them, and therefore verbatim I send them here.  
Sir, I esteem more this occasion than to have found a Treasure, as in effect 'tis one for to oblige one's friends. You may give this enclosed to Monsieur d' Armencourt, who will make no difficulty to deliver you the sum therein expressed, neither does he know wherefore 'tis, but may imagine I owe it you. I let you understand this, because I know every one is not willing to have these things known. In fine, I deal with you, as I would another should do by me, if I were in your place.  
Words so nobly obliging, and so worthy of Eternal memory, as if ever any thing I write may last, 'twill be for having inserted them in my Writings, every word that proceeds from her, being a certain charm against forgetfulness; But I forget in the mean time to tell you how I have seen the Marquese your Sister here, who complains of your forgetfulness of her; whence it seems that charm has rather a particular than a general influence. Pray oblige me to let you hear from you by the next, and esteem me ever, as really I am, for  
Your lordship's most humble, &c.   

XV. To Count Salazar, from Rome Anno 46.  
On the taking Pi●mbino and Porta Longona.  
My Lord,  
I Congratulate (with all my heart) your new Accession of honours, and wish that golden Key you have lately received in mercede from his Catholic Majesty, may but serve to open you the door to many and greater, &c. The taking of Piombino and Porta Longona hath occasioned many rumours here amongst the Italians, to the dis●dvantage of his Majesty of Spain, to stop the mouths of whom, in imitation of Boccalino (a way much taking here) I have made and published this following.  

Lusus Hisp●niae, & Gal●iae.  
A Spaniard and Frenchman playing in Italy, the Spaniard played negligently, as one who had much to lose, and was too confident perhaps he could never lose it all; whilst the Frenchman like a cunning Gamester, knowing all the slights and advantages of play ha●●uddenly won of the Spaniard Piombino, and ●●●ta Longona, he esteeming the one no mo●e th●n a leaden token, and the other but ●nl● a a n●st o● Rocks, for a few ships to harbour in: But the Italian standing by, who had learned (o● the Jews perhaps) to estimate things on another manner (In detaille, not in g●osse as did the Sp●n●ard) thought it a mighty matter, and wondered at the others negligence, as you might perceive by the often, casting up his eyes, lif●ing up his hands, shrugging his Shoulders, and crying out Capito ever and anon, inclining toward the French party by degrees, in wishing him good luck, (as your Rooks do always to those who win) and seeming much to rejoice in his good fortune; but seeing no Baratta coming in, as when th●Spaniard won, his joy began to cool, and he was a little out of countenance, when tha● which put him quite out, was this Reproach made to him by the Spaniard.  
Thou silly penurious Italian, that beginning with Quatrius, counts a Iuli● thy blood, a Teston thy Livelihood, and a Crown thy soul, with a heart and breast narrow as thy country, that accounts Massa and Mo●aco two mighty principalities, & them sovereign Princes, the one for being Lord and Master of some mile of Rock, with a Port no bigger than a ducking Pond, and t'other for having dominion of a Plain twenty Farmers in Flanders have bigger fields to feed their Oxen on; and for his marble of Carrara, it only shows how hard a Country Italy is, and how hardly you live in it, when stones are the chiefest revenue of a sovereign Prince. Thou thinkst me now quit undone (I warrant thee) for losing two petty places, they afford no Place in the map of the world too, allowing no more to your Italy itself than a flies wing c●n cover, whilst I am Lord of territories wearies the Sun to travel over, nor can he sooner end his journey on them in the West, but he begins it on them in the East again. Get the a greater Book for shame, and leave thy Hornbook of Italy, if thou wouldst not be always esteemed a Baby in the world, when thou wilt know this is nothing, and know thou know'st nothing too. Mean time, I would thou hadst felt the heaviness of the French yoke thou wouldst so fain bring on thy neck, that thou mightst find by Experience how light that of the Spaniard is, which tho'w'dst so fain shake off; so he, when the Italian left off his insulting, and the Spaniard continued playing till he had won all again.  
As 'tis the wish and prophecy of  
My Lord, Your, &c.    

XVI. To the Princess of Hoghzollern, from Rome, Anno 47.  
Of his irksome life at ROME, and hope he had to revisit Flanders.  
Madam,  
MAy I not live, if I breathe the Air of Rome but only to sigh after that of Flanders, I living here methinks (wanting that Company I had there) just like Adam out of Paradise, among Beasts, having lost the blessed conversation of Angels; for what comfort's in a Heaven, where one never sees the Stars? I mean those living stars I saw in the Heaven of Bruxelles, without whom methinks the Sun at noonday is but Cimmerian darkness, for 'tis not the Eyes, but the Mind is cheered with light. Whence 'tis that I converse more with the dead than living here, (their ancient statuas and Pictures I mean,) and find them ● far the better company of the two. And if for those few months of your excellency's absence in Holland I lived so melancholy a life, my Lute being silenced, and I never appearing in Park but like a walking ghost, or a body without a soul; Imagine Madam now how melancholy a Creature I am, and how I pine away, so far from you, and so long absent. One thing comforts me, that by all prognostics both there and here, I conjecture my Absen●e now cannot be long from thence: When but conserve for me (Madam) your good Graces, and I shall be more happy than before, the more of unhappiness I have experienced since; None knowing better the benefit of health, than those who have been sick; nor relishing prosperity better than those who have tasted adversity before, as has in being deprived of your sight,  
Madam, Your, &c.   

XVII. To the Count Salazar, from Genoa, Anno 48.  
Of the Reduction of NAPLES, and some passages concerning it.  
My Lord,  
OF the Reduction of Naples, I gave you advertisement by my last from Rome, from whence I departed just upon the advice there, Embarquing in the Pope's Galleys at Civita Vecchia, together with the marquesses Jean Baptista, and Felice Mario, with the marquess Spinelli, recommended particularly to them by the marquess de Buffalo, and treated by them with all noble courtesy: Our Navigation being so speedy, and prosperous, as in less than three days we arrived at Genoa; on the way we met with the Duke of Tursi coming from Naples, who confirmed all I writ unto you, as did likewise your ambassador Signior Roncilio at Genoa, we conferring Letters together, and he making solemn bonfires for the news; yet do the French report the contrary, the best Architectures in the world of false rumours, when it makes for their advantage, as does this, they knowing how 'tis only the first reports of ill news, that dismays, astonishes, and disanimates, which if you can divert and damp a while, people are nothing near so struck and startled with it afterward; which false rumours I tracted from the very Fountain, finding them on the Friday after, the day before the General Postday; empoisoning with it all the public places of Rome, from whence news is derived, and flows abroad in the World.  
The Copy of that Letter Count de Ogniato thought fit to make use of, to injealouse the Neapolitans, upon the arrival of the Duke Guise, as written from France intercepted and interpreted, is thus.  
Behold the best sport in the world for us, our Enemies fighting against our Enemies; to prevail ourselves of this occasion, you must be sure to keep the parties so equally balanced, one mayn't destroy to there, but with its own destruction; wherefore if you find the Neapolitan too weak, you may strengthen them with small succours; if too strong, you may weaken them, with drawing them out in small factions, ever keeping your main design secret, till they be both so weakened, you may easily make an absolute conquest of either; Let the Duke of Guise then be precautioned by the Duke of Alansons ill success at Antwerp, In discovering his designs too soon, and alaruming them by it, to unite forces as against a common Enemy; whence I wonder why he proclaims so loud his descendency from the house of Anjou; enough to waken their jealousies, that he intends to set on foot the Title of that house again; pray let him be advised of it. More Instructions you need not; all being comprised in this only, that you look upon the Neapolitans as wild beasts, that may be subdued, but never tamed.  
This published amongst them worked such effect, as out of this Letter they sinisterly interpreted all the Duke of Guise's Actions, every thing he did, stumbling them afterwards, just like French Posthorses, who stumbling once, never leave running headlong till they be down. Thus you see (My Lord) how little things sometimes (which History never mentious) confer mainly to the performance of greater ones; and the smallest occasions as hinges sometimes serve to turn the world; No more; but my most humble service, and best respects to yourself, your Noble Lady, and Monsieur Recourt, &c. being  
Your lordship's most, &c.   

XVIII To the Lord Thomas Somerset from Marseilles, Anno 47.  
Of his voyage and return out of ASIA.  
My Lord,  
I Have travailed farther than ever Ulysses did, since I left Italy, and had the honour to see you last; yet write Odysses of my travails he that list, for I have nothing of rare or particular to write, but what has been heard of a hundred times before: For that little than I have seen of Asia, the Isles of the Archipelago, the Dardanells, Pontus Euxine, and the Hellespont, &c. consult Sands, and others travails (if you please) where you shall find them acurately and at large set down; for me, He only say of Constantinople, that for an Imperial seat, 'tis one of the noblest Cities I ever saw, situated on two Seas with its two feet Collossean like, treading on Asia and Europe, nor did I ever see truer bravery, or greater gallantry than there, every one wearing such various coloured silks, with swelling Turbans, and flowing garments, as their streets appear just like Tulipp Gardens, whilst ours (with so many's wearing black) appear just like mortuary houses, all mourning for the dead: Here finding no commodity of voyaging farther Levant, the Seas being all obstructed by reason of the Venetian wars, after some two or three weeks' residence, I returned again in a French Bottom, and am at last arrived at Marseilles, where I am now on point of Embarquing for Spain on an English Vessel having only Time from my necessary preparatives, to assure you my Lord, that as there is none I am more obliged to than yourself, so there is none who can with greater verity say that he is,  
My Lord your, &c.   

XIX To the Lord Charles Dudley, Prince of the Empire, &c. from Lisbon, Anno 48.  
Of his Sea voyage from PROV●NCE to PORTUGAL.  
My Lord,  
IF he that's at charges of setting forth the ship has right to the voyage it makes, Certainly your Lordship has right to the relation of all the passages of my voyage, who was at charges of setting forth the Passenger. You may please to understand then, that the same day I parted from you at Marseilles, I met at Toulon with the Captain of our Ship, with whom I went to Eres, where our Ship lay at Anchor; Nor am I so great a contemner of vanity, but I confess I took a little, to find Fame, like a Harbinger flown thither before me to take up my Lodgings; whilst all the Town was taken up for Lodgements of soldiers, the Dean o'th' chief Church meeting me, and knowing me by the same he had heard of me at Marseilles, courteously offering me Lodging in his house; The next day the wind turning fair, we embarked, and merrily sailed along the Coast of Provence, finding the gulf of lions, so furious to others, as gentle as a Lamb to us; yet had we so fresh a gale of wind, as in 4 or 5 days say● we had left the coast of France, Catalonia, and Valentia behind, and were now where the Mediterranean (like a wide Vessel with a narrow neck) began to straighten a little, betwixt Minorca & Murcia, when one Evening tacking once or twice about to hale up the beck or spur of a Galley, driving on the waves (the relics of some wrack perhaps) we might perceive two great ships chasing us, when we needing no more spurs, clapped on all the Canvas we could make, and fled away so fast before them, as our chasers perceiving they followed us in vain, gave o'er their chase about the shutting in of the Evening, and fell to Seaward of us; when full glad and joyful were we, but 'twas but a short Joy and gladness, for the next morning by break of day two Turkish Galleys from a nest of Rocks (where they ordinarily sculk, called the Collybre on the Spanish coast) made towards us amain, neither could our best defence of flight avail us now, the Sea all becalmed, and winds breathless (as we were ourselves for fear, our ship though called the Hercules being of small defence, since ne Hercules contra duos, what is Hercules against two?) whilst those caterpillars the Galleys on their oars, as on so many feet, made towards us a main; at which we looking about us, (as People in danger do, who would be glad to run away) might espy a far off those two ships had given us the chase o'er night, which comforting us not a little, we gave them a warning-piece (at all adventures) to advertise them of our danger, when presently we might behold them tack about, and make up towards us, which the Turks and we jointly perceiving, we suddenly changed minds (Fear departing from us to them, and Courage from them to us) and they of chasers, now become our chase, whilst we encompassing them with our three Ships, as Hunters with their Toils do wild Beasts, or so many Greyhounds would a Hare, gave them a turn or two, now from the Spanish shore towards Barbary, and now back again, till at last they escaped away before us, on the strength of their Oars, whilst our flagging sails seemed to chide and murmur at the winds deserting them This danger past, we hased out our Boat, and went aboard the other ships, to thank them for their timely Aid, whom we found to be two Holland men of war (the Tergo●se, and the Lewarder) part of a Squadron whose Admiral was in Portugal, sent out with express Commission to scour the Seas of Turks and pirates, with the Vice Admiral of whom I presently making Acquaintance, he easily invited me along with him to Lisbon, (● being not secure in the other Ship where I was,) so altering my course from Spain to Portugal, and changing ships, I began a new Voyage on Sea, without ever going to Land. Thence we sailed along the Spanish coast from Cap● to Cape, escaping a little danger nigh Cape de Pales of driving on Land) our Cable shearing whilst we lay at Anchor there, to make provision of firing in a Juniper would nigh Carthagene) the King of Spain being not more absolute Lord on Land, than we were on his Seas, hasing all ships in keen of us, every one contributing somewhat to us of Sea provisions, till at last drawing nigh the Str●ights, the shore now on both sides affording us a delightful prospect, betwixt the steep Rocks of Gibraltar on the Spanish coast, and the Embattaild walls of Zent●, situated on the high Mountains on the Barbary shore, in less than 5 or 6 hours we passed all the straits, and out of the Mediterranean Sea past into the Grand Ocean, when steering our course directly towards Portugal, within some two days after we arrived at Cascais in the mouth of Lisbon Road, where I landed some 5 or 6 weeks after my depart from Provence, and took leave of my Hollander, who had treated me most courteously and nobly all the way; neither did I ever meet with any of that Nation more a Gentleman than he.  

Of his arrival to LISBON.  
And now behold me (my Lord) safely arrived in Portugal at Cascais, some twelve English miles from Lisbon, where the governor (besides the ordinary vice of that Nation, the foolisher the wiser they pretend to be) would needs play the statesmen, and be wiser than the Truth, in suspecting me for some Spi●, or else come thither upon some great design, and so presently he sent me to Lisbon with a soldier along with me, with express order not to leave me till he had delivered me to the Secretary of State, who being altogether as great a Politician as my governor, made great difficulty of my stay in the Country, till spying my Lute, the suspicion I was a Musician, as clavis clavem pellit, soon drove out of his head the suspicion that I was a Spy: so lodging me by way of Caution in an English gentleman's house, a great Confident of the Kings, till he might inform his majesty of me (who being an excellent Musician, was covetous of knowing all Strangers of that profession) He no sooner understood of my arrival, but he sent for me to Court, and was so well satisfied with me, as continuing my Lodging in Mr. John Muley's the same English gentleman's house, than which the whole Town afforded not more noble accommodation, The next day he sent for me again, where after some two or three hours' trial of my skill, (especially in the composative part of music, in which his Majesty chiefly exceeded) I past Court Doctor; though Don Emanuel Sa, Grand Chamberlain to the King, swore 'twas rather a trial for a Doctor in an university, than a Gentleman in the Court. After this, his majesty was pleased to assign me a certain Cavallier of th' Order, to whom I was to address myself for Audience and access to his person as often as I pleased. Mean time, Regis ad exemplum, I was looked upon with particular regard by all, passing most of my time in Mr. Muley's Kinta, or Garden house some three or four English mile from Lisbon, whose Amenity I cannot better set before your Eyes, than in this following Copy of Verses.  

Where in a Vale near Tagus Golden side,  
Through all the world renowned far and wide,  
Though now for Silver waters famed more  
Than e'er it was for Golden sands before,  
Circled with fruitful Olives, Vines, and Corn,  
A! Pallas, Ceres, Bacchus, there were born,  
A Kinta stands so situated t'has  
Resort unto 'r of every rural Grace,  
(And rural Graces are in Summer far  
Jollier than those of Towns in Winter ar)  
Whose fairest Garden's planted round withal  
Those Trees we fruitful and delicious call,  
As Orange, lemon, Apricock and Peach,  
(Whose rudier sides do nymphs their blushing teach)  
Silk animating mulberries, spreading wide,  
Pomegranads, Figs, and hundred more beside,  
Under whose leaves the sunshine all the day  
Delights with dancing beams to sport and play,  
Whilst to its Walks each cooling wind does come,  
T'assuage the Calenture o'th' burning Sun.  
Here, whilst I often used to make resort,  
To quicken the dull pleasures of the Court,  
One day my Muse (that ne'er in any place  
More present to me, nor propitious was,)  
Appeared to me in all her best array,  
And this to th' Kinta's Glory bid me say,  
How all the Gardens of th' Hesperides,  
Semiram's pensil' ones, Alcinous'es,  
Lucullus' nor Seneca's to boot,  
Compared but unto this, were nothing too't.     

XX. To Doctor Hart at Rome, from Lisbon, Anno 48.  
Concerning some rep●rts of him at ROME.  
Dear Doctor,  
THere are some places, as some persons, better agreeing with our Genius and disposition than others; and if ever there were any that agreed not with mine, 'twas Rome, where one cannot stand without supplanting, speak without Caution, nor live without extreme Industry, all is Insidiousness, all shoving and shouldering, and all soliciting, making business of every thing, and then following close that business; which considered, 'tis no wonder I never agreed with it, nor it with me: Nor need I go so far as the stars with the Astronomer to find the cause of it; for when good fortune falls, I cannot crowd and shove to catch it: I had rather be silent than be solicitous what to say, nor am I busy body enough to have a head fit for business, and for Industry 'tis not in my Nature, nor I can no more change my disposition of mind, than my lineaments of body. This I say, to let you know, that as I lived, so I came a discontented person from Rome, which I declare on every occasion, so 'tis true (what is reported of me) that discoursing o●e day here with his Majesty of Portugal, and he demanding of me how Atts flourished at Rome, I (betwixt malicious and merry) answered, that as those Arts his Majesty favoured Regis ad exemplum, were the study of the Portugal Courtier, so all at Rome studied the Pope's Arts, which was Hording up of money, and nothing else. And though I wonder how his holiness came to understand this, there being scarce four persons in the Cabinet beside the King and I when 'twas spoke, yet I am glad he did, it being necessary Princes should know, that their better lives live by the breath of Strangers, and their Fames can no more fly out of their own Territories and Dominions without obliging them, than they can voyage by Sea, or travail by Land, without some Vehicule to transport them, their own Subjects being but as their own legs, whilst strangers as those ships and montures which easiliest and best can do it. And thus much for that, for the rest dear Doctor hold me always  
Your, &c.   

XXI To the Countess of Berlamont, Anno 48.  
Where he merrily describes his life at LISBON.  
Madam, &c.  
I Am not yet so heavenly minded, to count all the world a Prison, but I no longer admire those that do, since really, I count myself as absolutely in Prison here, in not being able to go out of this Kingdom, for Flanders, as ever any did in a common Gaol; for 'tis not the bigness of the place, but the restraint that makes the prison, so they are as much Prisoners who are in the Bois de Vincent, as those who are in the Dungeon. To describe unto you my prison, and my company in't (that you may pity me) I am here in Lisbon, a City of but 9 or 10 mile about, all built upon Hills and Dales, rising just like the great Billows of the Ocean (when you are in the bottom, and wonder at the vastness of one, passing that, you find another as vast to wonder at) there I have a Garden no bigger than your Park at Brussels (to walk in, and take the air) where there's all sorts of fruit the East or West India's can afford, or the Northern or Southern climate of the world produces, Figs that make beccoficos of men, and Meloons both red and green, beyond their Marmal●ds for meltingn●sse; but alas, what are these unto your Pompions? Now for my Company I have none but such, one would be ashamed to keep company withal; The King here a man of no estate, but only besides the Kingdom of ●o●tu●●l and the Algarves in Europe, Lord of two or three Kingdoms in Africa, of the Western Islands, the Maderass, the Isles of Capo Verte, St. Thoma, the Empire of Goa in the East Indies, and of Brasilia in the West, alone bigger than all Europe together, poor things God wor, that with good Husbanding might only yield about 9 or 10 millions every year.  
Now to describe unto you his person, and the Queens: the King is an honest plain man, changing nothing of the Duke of Braganza by being King of Portugal; faring as homely as any Farmer, and going as meanly clad as any Citizen, neither did he ever make use of any of the Crown wardrobe, since he came unto the Crown; his ordinary Exercise is Hunting, and music, never omitting the first every Mond●y, not the second every day after dinner, for any business. But for the Queen, she has more of the majestic in her, and if she be not King, her Ambition 'twas that made the King; She has a goodly presence, a stately Gate, and uses the Trowel in painting, with better reason than other Ladies do the Pencil, having an Epilipse makes one side of her face reder than the other (like the sunny side of fruit) did not her painting make both sides red alike. For Prince Theodosio her eldest Son, he is a Pr. of great expectation, learned, and of great wit and courage, of person tall and slender, about some 18 years of age. And this is all Madam I can say of their Persons, as all I desire should be said of mine, is, that I am  
Madam Your &c.   

XXII To Madamoiselle de Beauvais, from Lisbon, Anno 45.  
Madamoiselle,  
YOu will wonder, that having seen the Court of the world, in Paris, Rome, and Constantinople; the City of it, in Venice, Genoa, and Lisbon; the Garden, in Provence, Andaluzia, and Italy; and the Paradise of it where you are, that I should now go see the desert and wilderness of it in Africa and America, the one (all the Coast along) nothing but barren sand, and the other where I am going (the Brasils') all overgrown with woods and Trees; And that too in midst of so great desire to return for Flanders, as never any thing was more ardently desired; but when you hear my reasons for it, you will absolve me, Madamoiselle, I'm sure of Legerity or change of resolution.  
B● pleased to know then, that just upon point of my Embarquement for Flanders, understanding of the loss of the battle of Lens, I thought it no ways fit to render the joy I hoped to conceive at sight of my friends in Flanders abortive by their general sadness there; Wherefore casting about for some diversion for a year or so, till your losses might be recovered or forgot, there opportunely offered itself unto me, the voyage of Brasil, which having proposed unto the King (without whose permission no stranger can undertake that Voyage) his Majesty not only gave me permission, but 200 Crowns aiut a de costa for my voyage, when a hundred other considerations began to encourage me to the undertaking it (besides the ardent thirst I had of voyaging, which nothing but the whole ocean could quench) first having seen so many rarities of the Brasils' in Portugal; I thought it worthy my voyage thither to fetch you some of them. ●ly. According to the ancient expiation of fire and and water, I thought it fit to pass whole Oceans, and the Torrid zone, before I approached unto your presence. 3ly. Having somewhat in me of the Philosopher and ginger, I imagined it richly worth my journey, to see the stars of the other pole, and nature of the other Hemiphere. And lastly my desire of seeing all the world is so insatiate (whether the more one sees of it, the less he is satisfied, or that it satisfies so much, as one has still a desire of seeing more) as just like another Alexander, not thinking one world sufficient, I am seeking another forth; Mean time (Mademoiselle) your goodness will pardon this presumption of mine (who ought not to stir out of one Room into another without your permission) that I dare presume to go out of one world into another without your Licence, being as I am  
Mademoiselle, Your, &c.   

XXIII. To the same. Anno 48.  
Of his Sea Voyage from Lisbon to the Brasils'.  
SOme week after we set sail at Lisbon, we arrived at the maderas (one of the Africa lands) where landing at Funchal (the chief City, or Bishop's seat) we were kindly entertained by the Merchants there, contending in hospitality who should first lodge and entertain us, (as the manner is, where provisions are plenty, and Strangers rare) here we stayed some 4 or 5 days feasted and regaled every day, and presented at our departure with the rarities of the Isle, they making the best confectures in the world, both for dry and wet, Sugar growing there in great abundance, and their Wines surpassing for Generous all that ever I tasted yet: when prosecuting our voyage, after a few day's sail we had a sight of the Canaries or Fortunate lands, where under the pick of Teneriff we lay some days becalmed, it being one of the highest mountains in the world, all green unto the Top, and of so equal an Ascent, that those of Babel might have innocently built their Tow●r there, secure from Deluge, and did it extend itself a little higher, one could not imagine a more pleasant nor easier passage unto Heaven. From thence we say●'d along the coast of Africa, towards the Islands of Capo verte, which we past without touching at them, the Air being generally held unwholesome, but at that Season Infectious; after which, steering our course Westward towards the Brasils', and once past all commerce the land has with the Sea, of common air, and repercussion of waves, &c. we had the pleasantest Voyage as could be imagined, no storms, the Winds (which surely on those Seas blow all from Land) hardly having breath enough (for the long Voyage they had made) to fill our sails, and the air so pure, as in comparison with the pleasure of it there, it seems a●paine to breath on Land, where the air is stuffing, suffocating, and noisome, tainted as it passes with Ordures and Filth, (there being few countries like Arabia, affording more sweets than stenches) whereas that of the Sea comes purely (as it were) drained and purified by the sunbeams, as it passes to the sense. Then for other pleasures, you have none on Land, but we had some at Sea to equal it; and to begin with the most incredible, Hawking and Hunting. (besides Fishing) we had perpetually for more than a month together. Our ship being all encompassed with doradoes or shining Fishes (Somewhat like Dolphins) hunting the Flying Fishes, which you might see on Top of the water, fluttering to escape, and the doradoes bounding to overtake them, till being hard pursued, and so near pressed, as they were in danger to be ta'en, the poor flying Fish would get on wing, and flying one danger, incur another; for a slight of Sea fowl (Called Booby's by the English) followed us all the way hovering in the air, in expectance of their prey, seeing the flying fish on wing, would stoo● at them, and each one singling out one, fly them to a mark. Then for Fishing, our Mariners had but only to choose out their Dorads (as a good Woodman would a Dear) and strike him straight with his Fisgigg (or Dart with many barbed heads) never failing of their Cast, and this furnished us with fresh Fish all the time, it being excellent meat, short and crisp like our Salmons, and much like them in bigness; which being ta'en, strange it was to behold the curious colours of its scales, fading by degrees, as death won on life, (just as the skies colour does when night comes on) till quite dead it became all black, with good reason, it putting on mourning for its death, whose life had clothed it in such rich and glittering colour. An other sort of Fish we took called the Shark or Tuberon, black and great as a Porpoise, with terrible long Teeth, huge wide jaws, and so ravenous, as at a bit 'twould snatch a leg or Arm away of any it found swimming in the Sea; these have certain little Fishes called the Pilot Fish, cleaving to them so fast by a Fynn o'th' top of the head, you can hardly separate them by any force: they have great heads, some spann long of body, and are excellent meat. Nor wanted we the pleasure of Gardens too at Sea, the Ocean (for many hundred miles from Land, and many miles together) being all covered over with a certain Green, so thick as the Ship could hardly make way through it, with many Gridiline Flowers besides like our Crocus', rendering it a most delightful spectacle. Then for other prospect, do but behold the rising and setting Sun, and you should see a hundred several forms and figures, like your scenes in Masques and plays, with lights behind them, reflecting them to the Eye, and betwixt light and shadow, setting them off more resplendently to the view. For other commodities and delicacies you have on Land, we wanted none, Our great cabins being large as your Chambers, our Beds as commodious, our Decks spacious as your Galleries to walk in, our kitchen our cellars as well furnished, herds of Swine, flocks of Sheep, and Pullen of all sorts aboard, perpetually feasting, nor wanted we music to our Feast, (besides an excellent set of Trumpets) the Mariners having some Fiddles amongst them, to which they often danced to delight the Passengers. And thus sleeping, eating, drinking, and recreating ourselves, we made our voyage secure from storms, secure from pirates and Enemies, till making Land about Capo St. Augustine, we might de●cry some 3 or 4 sail which knowing to be Hollanders of Fernambucca, and not willing to encounter them, we steered to Seaward again, being that night overtaken by one of them, who allarumned us as if their whole Fleet had made after us, appearing on every side of us with fires on his main Mast, and about the wast of his ship perpetually burning (as a call it seems for his Companions, if any were in sight) sailing away in the morning to find them out, and returning towards Evening, (ever endeavouring like a Kite to snatch away our Carvel and Pattachio, which lay like Chickens close under our Wings) till at last, about the height of Baia, it left us, despairing to meet any of their Fleet higher up, when holding on our course for the Rio, and sounding all the way, we found it a bold Coast, some 35 Fathom all the way, with neither Flats nor Rocks, so passing by Capo Frio (so called from the excessive cold there, though under the Torrid Zone, and the climate on either side be exceeding hot) at last we arrived before the mouth of St. Sebastian's Haven, where under a little Isle we cast Anchor, having in less than three months, deducting our stay in Assrique, made the voyage almost to the Antipodes, of 4 ships (as we were) and more than 4 hundred men, losing only one man in all the voyage; and here let me cast Anchor too, er' I prosecute my voyage.  

Of our arrival to St. Sebastian's, or the Rio de Janaro in Brasil.  
Whilst we lay h●re at Anchor, our Mariners Angling, took certain F●shes about the highness of Roc●ats or Gurnet, which they call coney Fishes from their resemblance of our coneys in face (but only they wanted Ears) with bellies all white and checkered, which swelled just like blown bladders, when they had lain a while panting on the Hatch●●, these were rank poison, as the Portuguez assured us, the Sea being full of divers other venomous Fishes, which renders the water unwholesome, as I experimented myself, when bathing me in it, I came out all faintish and ill-disposed, accustomed to come out of other Seas more strong and vigorous. Mean time advertisement being given from the Fort unto the Town of our arrival, they (perceiving us to be friends) sent divers Boats and Canoes forth to welcome us, and bring us aboard all sorts of fresh provision and fruits of the Country. Their Midsummer being our midwinter here. Amongst the rest, having Pilots sent us to conduct us in, we weighed Anchor towards Evening, and with a gentle breeze or gale from Seaward, blowing constantly every Night from Sea, as every Morning it does from Land. We entered the Bay betwixt two mighty Rocks some mile asunder (the one (from its form) called the Sugar loaf) when having past the Fort some mile or so, beyond the Entran●e of the Bay, we discovered the pleasantst prospect in the world for natural Landschap, of the Rio or Lake some twenty mile or more about, all tu●ted with Green Islands, some a mile about, some more, some less, the Town situated on the left hand, some 2 or three mile beyond the Fort, where was safe harbour for many hundred ships. Here arriving, and going on shore, I found a Lodging prepared for me, by the Fathers of the Company, with two Molato's or mongrel negroes to serve me, with my diet from their kitchen, just against my Lodging, whether by order from the King, the recommendations of the Governor (who came along with us) or the charity of the good Father I know not, but certainly 'twas so extraordinary an accommodation, as no money could have purchased the like, there being no inns nor Pensions to lodge or eat at, as with us; all who frequent those parts being either Merchants, who lodge with their Correspondents, or Seafaring men, who lodge aboard, never any man like me before making that voyage merely on Curiosity.   

Of Brasil in general.  
Brasil, as 'tis confined by the Ocean on th' one side, and the Rivers of Amazons and de Plato on th'other, is a vast Continent, and far bigger than all Europe, the climate is hot and moist, by reason of the abundance of Rain that falls there continually; yet are there no Rivers at all in the Country (but only those it is surrounded with) from whence any watery vapours should exhale. It has only some 4 or 5 Ports by which you may enter into the Country, all the rest o'th' shore being impenetrable, by reason of Rocks, and inextricable woods, for many hundred miles together, the country seeming rather reserved for the habitation of men hereafter, than ever to have been Inhabited heretofore; and one of these Ports was that we now entered.   

Of the Town.  
The Town of St. Sebastian's is situate in a Plain some mile in length, bounded at either end with rising Hills, the inmost towards the Lake inhabited and enclosed by the Benedictins, and the outmost towards the Sea by the Fathers of the Company; upon which hill was formerly situated the ancient Town (as the Ruins of houses, and the great Church, yet remaining, testify) till for the commodity of traffic, and portation of Merchandise, 'twas by degrees reduced unto the Plain, their buildings being but low, and streets not above 3 or 4, the principal regarding the Haven. Behind the Town is a great plain some two mile over, part of it bushy, part woody, and part meadow ground, beyond which you find a Country so wholly different from ours, as there's not a Tree nor Plant, Bird, Beast, nor any thing you ever saw in Europe to be found, and to speak somewhat of each one in particular.   

Of the Country.  
The Country is for the most part●all o'ergrown with wood, which the soil, unforced since the Creation of the world had produced without culture, amongst which are some trees of such vast bigness, as they're above 7 or 8 fathom in Diameter, and 70 or 80 high, of which they make Canoes, or Trees hollowed into Boats of 2 or 300 tun. As for the Brasile wood, by excellency taking its denomination from thence 'tis but a shrub in comparison with the other Trees, much like our bigger sort of Hawthorn Trees. The Country i● naturally hot and moist, by reason of frequent reins; whence in many places, where the moisture settles in the bottoms, you have meadow grounds, some 20 or 30 mile over, (seeming abandoned by those Trees, for not being firm enough to sustain the weight of their huge vast bulks.   

Of the Fruit Trees, and Plants▪  
For Fruit Trees, besides wild lemons, which grow every where in great abundance, the Bonano deservedly claims the first place, it being a Tree that from the root grows yearly up to the height of an ordinary Pium or cherrytree, and much about that bulk; 'tis all green, the body being nothing but a collection of the leaves, which spread out towards the Top, and fall like plumes of Feathers, each leaf being some 6 foot in length, and 2 in breadth, on top of which, the fruit grows some 40 together in a bunch, in husks like Beans, all yellow when they are ripe, the fruit of colour and taste much like our Apricock, but much more firm and more delicious. For their Caijus, it is a sort of Tree of the bigness of our ordinary appletrees, the leaves like chestnut leaves, and fruit much like the bigger sort of green Figs, fastened to the Tree in lieu of stalk, by certain chestnuts, which roasted are excellent meat, the fruit eaten whole, melts all away to juice, exceeding cooling and refreshing, excepting certain strings which hang in your teeth, so tough, you cannot swallow them. The Guaver is a certain Tree about the same height and bigness, the Fruit is round and green, like to our Nectarins, but crushed, you find a round red pulp within, about the bigness of a Bilyard ball, eating like so many Strawberries moulded into a past. Another sort of Fruit they have called Mammon's, growing like great green pears, some 20 or more in cluster on the top of the Tree, never arriving to the maturity of being eaten raw, but they make a good conserve. Lemons, Oranges and Citrons they have in great excellence and abundance (which I suspect to have been transplanted thither at first) and Limas of a mixed sp●cies, betwixt the Orange and Limon, all round, with a bunch on the top, of a drier taste, & mor eager douce than either. Another Tree they have, of whose root dried, and the moisture pressed out o● it (which is rank poison) they make their f●ri●a de pan, as they call it, which they use instead of bread, when fresh and recent, 'tis like the crumbs of wheaten bread, and when stale, like pownded Oatmeal; by every one's Tr●ncher they lay heaps of this, and though Bread (made of Corn, brought from Portugal and the Western Isl●nds) be neither scarce nor dear, yet most of the Inhabitants r●ther eat of that. But above all, the Ananaz is one of the deliciousest Plants the Earth did e'er produce, it growing like an Ar●●c●oke, the leaves thick and sharply Indented, like those of Sempervive, thistly on the top, with a rind all scaly like the pineapple, which paring off, you find the fruit of the bigness of an ordinary M●loon, of a Golden colour, and distinguished into Cells, like Oranges, which slicing and eating in wine (as 'twas affirmed of M●nna) every one finds▪ that gust and taste in't, he is the most delighted with. Meloons they have too, both yellow and green, far better than those of Europe (though transplanted from thence perhaps at first) and Boratos in as great abundance as Turnips and carrots are with us. To conclude, another Tree it has called the P●nto, which though no fruit Tree, yields them more profit than all the rest; growing most commonly in moist places like our Willow, the body growing Cane-wise, distinguished by several knots, out of whose poory sides, the branches issue forth in round, with their several falls rendering it so many stories high; of a delightful green, body and all, whose le●ves being thick and filmy, they use to sleeve and spin to what finesse they please; the grosser serving for H●mp, the middle sort for Flax, and the finer for Silk.   

Of their Beasts.  
For their beasts they are all strangely different from ours: The Coty has some resemblance to our Hare, but bigger, without Ears, and its back parts ending more bluntly towards the Scut, and of a redder colour than all the rest o'th' body: The Tatoo is, not much unlike our lesser sort of Swine, but 'thas a more swag belly, and longer snout. Pigritas they have, so called from the slowness of their pace, so monstrous, as no Devil can be painted more horrible and ugly, all scally like the Rhinoceros, but more Serpent like, going so slowly, as it scarcely advances a pace a day: Ounces, Tigers, & Leopards they have too for wild beasts, and for ●●me, Sheep, Swine, Goats and Oxen (al● imported) and breeding there in so great abundance, especially the latter sort (which they nourish both for food and service, to turn their sugar-mills) as the fathers of the Company have for their share (not far from the Rio) more than twenty thousand all grazing in one pasture. Bu●iis or Apes, they have in great abundance, most commonly all black with white faces, their tails in spire, turning inward, they smell sweet, and when they have done any mischief, will so hug you, whistling lamentably with their mouths, as you cannot but pardon them; but above all, the prettyest Animal Nature ever made is the Saguin, about the bigness of a little Squirrel, with long shag mains, and bushy tails, of golden colour (most commonly) faced and handed like a Black-more, with small singers and smi●king countenances; peeping or squeaking like a Cricket when it craves, so as could it be but transported (as 'tis so tender and delicate, it commonly dies on change of air) all your Island Sho●ks, and Bollonian dogs would be banished Ladies Laps and Chambers, and these be their sole Minions and Favourites.   

Of their Fowl.  
For their Fowl, they are all so beautiful in comparison with ours, as we may well say, Nature learned her colouris there, when she painted them; and that for Birds, whilst those of Arabia are called birds of Paradise, Brasil may well be called the Paradise of Birds. Amongst the rest the Arara is a certain Bird about the bigness of a Goshawk, seeming a whole Garden of Tulips, every Feather being of a several colour, which beheld in sunshine, even dazzle your Eyes, they are so bright & glittering; of these I had one I taught to speak like a Parrot, but in so gross & big a tone, as you could not abstain from laughing to hear it; an other Bird they have called a Canada, differing from the Arara only in colour; its back and wings without being all Azurine, and breast and wings within of golden yellow: Others all jet black they have, with a stomacher of Aurora colour, borthered with crimson, others again all scarlet. In fine the ordinarest Bird they have, is the Parrot, of which they have hundred sorts; The parrachitoes about May coming thither in flocks, just like stars in other Countries, and are sold as cheap, & eaten as ordinarily as they. With the rarer sorts of all which beasts & fowl I had my Chamber furnished, during my stay in the Country, as Sanguins one or two, which I always carried along with me, calling them my Pocket lions, out of which at meals they'd come, and on either shoulder one, take meat from my hands and mouth, of my kindness to which, I had an Arara was so jealous, as it never left importuning me with its caresses, now looking me in the face, and talking to me, now climbing up my back, it being a good-natured Bird, having only this ill quality, to be always pecking and tearing with its Bill what ever was next it, which makes your frugal Portuguez, or wholly banish them their houses, or provide them Iron Perches to exercise their Beacks on. Many other sorts of Animals I had, which all perished by Sea, my Sanguins by change of air, my Arara's drowned, on which I made this following Epigram.  
Since thou so like unto the Phoenix wert,  
In shape, in colour, and in every part,  
That so unlike should be your destiny,  
That should by fire, thou shouldst by water die.   

Of their Insects, or lesser sort of Animals.  
For their Insects, a certain little crab or crevish they have, no bigger than Beetles, earththed in banks of sand, as coneys are in boroughs, with one claw far bigger than the other, which makes them turn whirling about, as other Crabs motions are retrogred: another strange Insect they have the Portuguez call Lobedio, or Praise God, as for some admirable thing, as indeed this is; It being a certain animated stick, like the end of some small twig, some finger's length, out of the joints of which there grow out legs by pairs, on which it crawls, like walking Tressles, nor can you perceive any other life it has, nor any other part of living Creature; as Eyes, Mouth, &c. I finding one of them crawling on me as I walked forth into the Woods, which tied with a third, and fastened to a bough, I kept long time in my Chamber, not perceiving any sustenance it took, often piercing it, to find if it had any sense; it always crawling in the the same manner about, until at last it vanished, I know not how; but that which molested me most of all, was a certain kind of anima●ed dust, which insensibly engenders to worms in your feet as big as maggots in a cheese, which unless they be carefully extracted, leave each one the seeds behind of a hundred more; these was I grievously tormented with for a month together, so as I could not stir, but as I was carried in a Hamatta; nor did I ever know before, how near confining pain and pleasure was; ●, at their first engendering in my feet, being assaulted with so fierce an itch, as 'twas the greatest pleasure in the world to scratch it, which presently was succeeded by so intolerable a pain, as I never remember to have felt the like.   

Of the savages, or Natives of Brasil.  
Of the Natives or Inhabitants what shall I say, but if, as John Baptista de porta says, every Nation has resemblance to some certain beast or Animal, certainly these Brasilians are most like Asses, dull and phlegmatic, in servitutem nati, and only fit for to●l and druggery, which is the reason Nature perhaps provided that Country with neither Horse nor ass, nor any beast of carriage or burden besides themselves, yet are they rather squat than robust, with broad Bodies, and little legs, small Eyes, of sallow, sickly complexion, ill featured, with black and greezy hair, nor curled nor dangling, but flagging Ill-favouredly about their Ears, going for the most part all naked both Men and Women, with only some rag to hide their privy parts, which you would never desire to see, you are so disgusted with the rest, they being all Christians, but such, as put me in mind of that sentence of Holy Scripture, Homines et jumenta salvabis Domine, that the Lord will save both Man and Beast; for surely they are both, having not wit enough to commit ingenious Vices, nor Temperance enough to abstain from brutal ones; and thus much for those who live among the Portugals, betwixt which and the other savags I imagine there is as much difference as between wild Beast and tame; neither can I believe what is reported of their fierceness, though all that is reported of their ferity I do, as their eating one the other, and having not so much as a word in their language, signifying nor God, nor King, nor Law, for were they so fierce as 'tis reported, certainly they would never have yielded their Country up so tamely to the Portugal, nor suffer them to enjoy it so quietly as they do; But to return to my tame savages, I hired 4 of them for a journey I made by Land, to carry my Hamatta, whilst t'other two ran Lacqueying by, which was on this manner. Your Hamatta is a certain cotton Net about the bigness of a blanket, drawn together at each end, and fastened by a strong Line to a Cane as big and long as a Colstaff, carried on their Shoulders, where you sit or lie in what posture you please on a bolster or Pillow, far more easily than in any Licter (the Portuguez men having a Negro carrying a Parasol or Umbrella to shadow them from the Sun, whilst the Women are shadowed and defended from public sight, by some rich coverture thrown over the Hamatta, with two Negro Maids going by their sides, to help them up, and put on their ●hoppinas when the Net's laid down, and they rise to go out of it to any place. In one of these was I carried some twenty miles a day, more or less, ● according as the way was more plain or mountainous, covenanting with my Savages for a small matter in money, besides my finding them diet, which was only a little farina de pan (or bread made of the root of a certain Tree, as we have said before) for the rest they rather finding me, for to our Farina we had ordinarily no other meat but Fish, of which at every plash of water where they came (but casting in their hooks) they took enough for twenty men, when we presently made fires upon the place, and broiled them, eating them aftewards with the juice of wild lemons, growing everywhere in the woods; and this, with water for our drink▪ was all our sustenance, and for our lodging at night, we hung up our Hamattas betwixt two Trees, and there slept till morning, only along the Coast, in that tract which the Portug●ls have made to travel by Land from place to place, you sail not every second day at most to find some R●ss or Country Farm of the Portuguez where for your money you are well accommodated with all sorts of pullen and fruit. One pleasure I had in passing through the woods, was to see the Trees full of Apes and parrots, (as if they had born no other fruit) one chasing another with such noise and chattering, you could not hear one another speak, and you should see those Apes which had young, with 2 or 3 clasped about their neck, or hanging on their back, which they went thus luggering, till they waxed big, to catch which, the Natives would shoot the old ones with their Arrows (with which they are the best mark men in the world, considering what clouterly Bows and Arrows they shoot withal) when the old one tumbling down, the young for want of exercising their Legs, had not th' address to run away.   

Of the Commodities of the Country.  
From my Voyage, I will return to speak of the Riches of the Country, chiefly consisting in their Sugar, which when I have named, I have named all; not that it wants others, but that it can want no others, having that, since that country which abounds with that commodity which all others have need of, can never want any commodity which others abound withal. For the rest, it produces neither Corn, nor Wine, nor Salt, which I attribute not so much to the difference of the Climate, as some politic reason to keep them with that necessary dependency on Portugal, to vent their commodities, and prevent revolt. Now for their Sugar thus it grows, and thus 'tis made; Their Sugar canes are pruned to the height of standing corn: nor need they other culture, but every second year to cut them close by the roots, as we do Osiers, when against the next year they never fail to spring up again, the flags of which Canes are of a pleasant green, and show a far off just like a Field of Corn, which being ripe about the month of June, they joint them in pieces some footlong, and carry them to the Mill, turned by Oxen, or Water, consisting of two round Cylinders, about the bigness of Mil-posts, plated with Iron, which turning inwards, and joining as close together as th●y can meet, so squeeze the canes in passing through them, as they come out on th'other side all bruised, and dry as keques, which were all liquid before; which liquour is conveyed by Troughs to certain Caldrons, where 'tis boiled, still retaining its amber colour, till poured out at last into their forms or coolers, with a certain Lee 'tis rendered white; And in these Mills (during the season of making Sugar) they work both day and night, the work of immediately applying the canes into the Mill being so perilous as if through drowsiness or heedlessness a finger's end be but engaged betwixt the Posts, their whole body inevitably follows, to prevent which, the next Negro has always a Hatchet ready to chop off his Arm, if any such Misfortune should arrive.   

Of the stars, and Heavens of the other Hemisphere.  
I will conclude this Treatise of Brasil with a word or two of the stars of the other Hemisphere, garnished with many constellations wholly unknown to us, of which the Cruciero or cross is the principalst, consisting of 5 or 6 Stars of the first magnitude, as bright as any in our Hemisphere; whose brightness, as with a foil, is set off the more by a great black cloud that's continually under it, as is the whiteness of the Milky way rendered more perspicuous, by a streak of black in the midst of it, tending towards the same constellation; both which, as also another great black cloud on th'other side the milky way, I observed at my being there, for more than six months continually: whence I concluded, 'twas the natural complexion of that sky (as ours is blue) to have much part of it black, which perhaps renders the people of that climate far more melancholy than ours, which black clouds I much wonder none (as I know of) has observed besides myself, especially since there are 2 white clouds not far from the Cruciero appearing always in the same posture and figure, so generally observed and known, as they are called Nubes Magellanicae, from Magellan, who first discovered them. And thus much for Brasilia may suffice; In which, if I have been too long, you will perceive at least, I have made all hast I could away. There being nothing in the Country, besides the satisfying my curiosity, that could invite me to longer stay than whilst the Fleet was preparing, which in the beginning of August, the 8th month after our arrival there, was ready to depart, I being to embark on the Adm●●al Don Rhoderigo d' Alancastro, who nobly invited me to diet and lodge with him in his own cabin.    

XXIV. To the Reverend Father John Pererio of the Society of J. in Brasil, Anno 50.  
Reverend Father,  
T'Il I can do't in deeds, you will please to accept of my thanks in words for all your noble favours in Brasil, by whose courtesy 'twas that I not only lived there, but that my life in all my voyage has been prer●●gued ever since; for Non vivere, sed bene vale●● vita est, you know: and I can assure you I never fared better than I did on shipboard with the General Drn Roderigo d' Alancastro, to whom you particularly recommended me, who lodged me in his own cabin, placed me at his table next himself, and not only made me companion alive with him, but would have done't in death ●oo, ●f there had been occasion, (as we imagined, on sight of another Fleet, which afterward proved friends) when putting a Rapier in my hand, and arming me with a Rondache or Shield, he bid me (if we chanced to fight) keep always close to him, that we might live or die together. So as (my dear F.) whilst others oblige as 'twere by chance, you only have the Art to do it, by linking benefit thus to benefit, till you make such a chain of it, as he must be most ungrateful should not always remain your Thrall; but that which your Modesty will not hear from me, I hope shortly you shall hear from the King himself, whom I have informed since my arrival of the many favours I received from you in Brasil, chiefly for his sake, next to God; nor have I limited my Gratitude only to this place, but I have written also to Rome, that I might repay your courtesies the sooner, the more I should call into contribution to the debt, of which Letter behold the Copy.  

Ad Eminentissimum Card. Fra. Barba. Anno 50.  
Post suum ex Brasilia reditum:  
Eminentissime Domine,  
EX quo soed a illa Tempestas nuper in Anglia exorta me quasi Naufragum in alienas orbis terrarum oras ejecisset, ego, ac si omnis terra mihi patria suisset, vel polius nulla, magnâ p●r●ê Europae peragrâta, atque nonnulla Asiae, Affricaeque Brasiliam tandem in America cogitavi, quo à nobis remotior ●o propius ●●men notitiae admoturus.  
After which Exordium I proceed, and say, that though it abound in many things; and that a Gold mine has lately been discovered there in the Territory of St. Paul's, and a veyn of Emeralds nigh Sancto Spiritu, yet I esteem more than any Gold or precious Stones, the planting of the Christian Faith, (I having no w●ere seen Learning and Piety more flourishing than there) chiefly by the Industry of the Fathers of the Society, who converting those Barbarous people daily, whilst they exercise their Bodies in cultivating the Land, do cultivate their Souls for Heaven.  
I will conclude, by telling you how our voyage was so prosperous all the way, as for more than 3 months' none of our 22 sail ever lost sight of one another, till nigh the Western lands; or Ti●rcieros (where I only with our Purser went ashore, the general suffering none else to stir) our Fleet was so distipated by fowl weather, as only 7 of us entered Lisbon rode together, the rest coming afterwards dropping one by one, excepting 2 or 3 catched up by the Hollanders, and one or two lost: And this is all I can tell you of our Voyage hither: besides which, I have no more to say, but only again & again to Iterate my many thanks unto you, R. F. Rector, F. Vas●o●cells, and all the rest, with the assurances that I shall always be  
Your R. &c.    

XXV. To the Lord— from Lisbon, Anno 50.  
Of some Discourses in PORTUGAL.  
My Lord,  
BEing returned from my Brasil voyage, my next is for ●land●rs, whither I tended in my thoughts, even whilst I tended farthest from it; they like Compasses having one foot fixed in that, whilst the other compassed the whole world about, for which whilst I expect an Embarquement, I cannot better entertain my sel●, than by en●er●aining you with some passages here; be pleased to know then, that discoursing the other day with one of the greatest in this Kingdom about our affairs of England, (which have so changed face since I left 'em, as I should hardly know them. I having been so remote from them, as the blow of that fatal Axe which took the King's life away, was not heard there till six months' a●t●r) they thereupon vilifying the Supreme Authority, imagining none great enough, that is not monstrous, and that to Reign courteously, is only to reign at courtesy of others, and not rightly understanding that of our parliament; I to rectify their understandings in either, told them first, That the right Institution of the parliament of England was so far diminishing the Royal Authority, as on the contrary it rendered it, but the more absolute, whence they were deceived, who imagined the parliament there an imperious Master, as 'tis in some Countries, or an abject Vassal, as it is in others; it being rather in nature of an humble friend, to advise and counsel as often as was requisite for the Kingdoms good; That there are some things which like the wheels of Chariots, or wings of Birds, look like burdensome; when indeed they are but helps to support and lighten the burden, and one of those things was the parliament of England; not so much an Embarasment to the Royal power, as an expediating and faciliating it, not so much to Limit the Regal Authority, as not to leave it altogether limitless, that its bounds was like that of the Ocean, boundless, but for its own conservation, that the King could do all things, but ruin and destroy himself and his Kingdoms, an Impuissance so far from Imperfection, as is that of Almighty God not being able to sin, which is on the contrary one of his most godlike Attributes. In fine, that the King of England was one of the potentest Kings in the Christan world, but with his parliament omnipotent, and that without that he was but one 'tis true; but that without him nothing. For the rest of our affairs, his Religion had rendered him more intelligent; and he could say, That as 'tis not then when the House falls, that the ruin begins, but when some main pillar or foundation is neglected, the want of maintaining which, draws on the ruin of all the rest: So 'twas not now the ruin of the Royal Authority began in England, but then when the Schism began; when that foundation of Monarchy, P●r me Reges regnant, was so shaken and weakened, as it has stood wavering and tottering ever since. That the Spiritual and Temporal Monarchy are that Murale and Antemurale, fortifying one another; neither could the one more subsist without the other, than the Walls of a Town without its Bulwarks and Outworks can defend itself. That so the King, in taking the Ecclesiastical Authority upon himself, did but like him who foolishly took his Horse on his own shoulders, and fell to the ground with't, whilst he vainly endeavoured to carry that, with should carry him; and so we see all had failed in their Ends they proposed to themselves in that preposterous change; the King in establishing a greater Authority, the Bishops, or Spiritual Lords, in imagining they should grow more absolute by the ejection of Abbots; and the Lords Temporal by the ejection of Bishops afterwards, all but making way for their own ruin; nor were the Commons to imagine they had much mended their Mercat by it; since whosoever cheaply fells another authority makes but the Market to buy his own: So we see since the first change of that Religion, wherein England had continued flourish●ng more than a Thousand years, how 't has been hurried from one to an●t●er ever since; it being as impossible things div●rted ●rom their pristine Institution, 〈…〉 which by long tract of Time they h●● been Accustomed, should afterwards stand firm and stable; as for the needle o'th' compass, diverted from its North, to cease its restless motion, till it return unto't again. Thus he, which how truly, the Event o● things will show: for my part prep●●'d ●or ●ll Ev●nts, when I am in Flanders, if there be any S●ttlement in England, and subsistence for an honest man, who loves to be quie●, and let others be so, I may see it ag●n: i● not, I have learned how wide the wo●ld is, an● to esteem every place for my Country, w●●re I may live quietly, and withou● molest●tion; which humour and disposition (my Lord) I know you will not dislike, in  
Your lordship's most, &c.   

XXVI. To Mr. John Mulys, An. 50.  
Worthy Sir.  
THe courtesy I have received in all my voyages from those of your noble procession, especially from yourself, obliges me in gratitude to the publishing everywhere of this following  

CHARACTER Of an English Mercha●● reside●● in sor●in pa●●s.  
He is one, who goes abroad with a stock of honour, as we'll as money to traffic with, and manages either bravely, being a Master, and not a slave to wealth, and such a Master as honours it by his commands, making it only serve to noble ends. He neither sticks at Trivial exp●nce nor gain, nor Anticipates poverty for fear of being poor (like those who kill them●●lves for fear of death) nor accelerates it by vain glory of appearing rich (like those who guild o'er ruinous Palaces) but look in his Accomp●s and warehouse, and you find him a wealthy Merchant, but look in all the rest of his House and Family, and you find him a noble and gallant minded Gentleman. In brief, he neither starves the channel with penuriousness, nor exhausts the Spring with prodigality, but has a particular Art to keep a full stream still running, and the Fount still full, so as we may well say of him in these dead Times, that there is none lives but he; who whilst greatest Landed men are outed of all they have, as long as the Sea is open, is sure of his coming in: To conclude, he is the honour of his Nation abroad, and therefore his Nation should be very dishonourable and unworthy, should it not always honour him.  
For the rest (Sir) you will please to know, that about a month after my departurture from Lisbon, and Embarquement at Set●val I arrived in Holland, the travailing through which by Land, from the Texel to Amsterdam, from thence to Utrecht, Dort, and so to Antwerp, &c. cost me more than all the Sea Voyages I made in all the four parts of the world beside, and Land too, since I left Italy. They will imagine this a Paradox, who know not that all my other voyages cost me nothing (which by computation in four years only, had cost me more than 2 or 3 thousand Crowns) If the accommodation I had with Princes by Land, and Admirals by Sea, could have been purchased with money, to say nothing of the Entertainment I found by Merchants everywhere; Of which now I say no more, but only that I can never say enough. In fine (〈◊〉 having completed my ten years' Voyage, I am now arrived at Bruxelles, as Stones to their centre, and Elements in their Sphere, wanting nothing of that requiescence which every thing enjoys in that which it most desires, where I remain   
Sir, Your, &c.   

XXVII. To the Duchess of Lorain at Berseel nigh Brussels, Anno 50.  
The Description of the Countess of BERLAMONTS Funeral.  
Madam,  
YEsterday were the obsequies of Madam Berlamont celebrated with all magnificence in her own Chapel, hung all with black Velvet, bordered with cloth of Gold, the Hearse in like manner with a Coronet and Canopy, The Holland Bishop officiated, all the Privy council, and Magistrates in Crops assisting, together with all the Nobility, her two Nephews, the Duke of Arschot, and Prince of Gau●e the chief Mourners; but the Prince the more officious of the two, as most concerned in her Testament, Father Mallyard made the Funeral Oration, indiscreetly enough, who whilst he excused her for not intermeddling with State Affairs, accused her the more, there being some incurable wounds of Fame, which like soar Eyes are but made worse with handling, nor wanted there positive virtues enough to praise in her, that he should need to seek out negative ones; but 'tis the vice of your petty Orators, to o'rpasse familiar and obvious things, & seek out uncouth and abstruse, thinking they are never eloquent enough, till they are extravagant. The Ceremonies o'th' Chapel performed, the Prince of Ga●re and I in manner solely accompanied the corpse into the Vault (perhaps the only true and real mourners there) where I complemented him, in telling him I wished with all my heart all his misfortunes buried in the same Grave with her, and he answered that he never had, nor could have a more sensible one than the loss of her. In fine (Madam) it were no ill compliment to your highness (I imagine) to wish all your Enemies buried in the same Grave too; she having nothing I ever dislike in her, but her Enmity to your highness; for which Sin God forgive her and I doubt not but he'll forgive her all the rest; I having been always of opinion, that sums obliging vices are better than others sour and austere virtues, learning of that friar in Comines, to pray always for those who do me good, and for me, your highness knows the many obligations I had unto her, so great really, as all the joy I had of living in Flanders had been buried in the same Grave with her, had she not left your highness' Executrix of it before she died; so madam having rather gained than lost by the Exchange of the Hand, I may the more truly say now, that I am solely and absolutely  
Your highness' most &c.   

XXVIII. To the same.  
Apprehending danger from the inflammation and rediness of the princess's eyes.  
Madam,  
I Am so concerned and sorry for the Princess malady, as did I apprehend the least danger of it, I should not be now alive to tell your highness so; but I am so far from it, as whilst Doctor Forges is busy with the rest, consulting the remedies, with half the consultation, I'll tell your highness the cause of it, (when the malady is half cured they say.) First then, The redness of her Eyes is nothing else but as the blushing of the Morn is to the day; and no wonder that Aurora should precede, the fair sunshine her Eyes promise; Next 'tis but justice, that those Eyes which are to inflame so many, should first experience what 'tis to be inflamed themselves; that she may say with Dido, She has learned to pity others by her own harms, &c. besides by her drawing Green taffeta Curtains over them, I suspect some design of keeping them for relics (as the manner is) if so, I desire she should understand, that there are some things ('tis true) are more esteemed and reverenced the less they are beheld; but such as her Eyes are, the more they are beheld, are ever reverenced and esteemed the more. How ever, to morrow I shall not fail to come and pay my Devotions at her shrine, when if she look well upon me, I shall esteem myself highly blessed; Mean Time, I desire she would esteem me for the humblest of her Votaries, and that your highness would hold me for,  
Madam, The humblest of you Honourers and Admirers.   

XXIX To the same.  
Merrily describing his journey on foot from BERSEEL to Bruxelles.  
Madam,  
YEsternight e'er I reached Bruxelles I was sufficiently punished for my unmannerly (or rather too mannerly) refusing your highness' Coach, the sudden rain having rendered the ways so slabbery, and me so dirty, as I can assure your highness it put me more in mind of Adam's clay than a hundred As●wednesdays with its memento homo's could have done; I having more on my shoes than went to making the first man, and one might have planted more Salads on them than would serve Madamoiselle de— s little household a year at least, so as my feet were like Nebuccadonozors' Image all of clay, and they had like to have cost me twenty quarrels in coming hom. The Master of the Brick-kills had like to have quarrelled me for carrying away all the Clay upon my shoes he had been preparing and making provision a whole week of to make in Bricks; and a Spaniard looked grim and furly on me at the Gate, for carrying away so much of the King's Highway on my shoes; at my Entrance into Town, I might have had two pence for it of an Ale-wise for stopping Bung holes, and a moulder of Images bargained for it to make his moulds of. But he who made most profit of it, (next to the shoemaker) was your good friar Terminarius of Berseel, who meditating on his way, how Adam in State of perfection, of clay was made made man, at sight of me fell on another conceit, how man in state of Imperfection was made clay. In fine, Madam, all the profit I can make of it, is to learn how I go on foot again when I may have commodity of a Coach, and not to refuse any thing that is offered me.   

XXX. To the Lord Duke of Buckingham.  
In praise of Berseel a Castle of Ma●am●iselle de Beauvais nigh Bruxelles.  
My Lord,  
THere are certain moments and ravishing Minutes like the divine ecstasies of Saints, we should desire might always last; and if our lives were all of the same piece with them, how happy should we be? one of these in my opinion (and I doubt not but I have your grace's suffrage) was that we had t'other day at Berseel, when May had put on its best attire, the day its serevest Countenance; Madam the Duchess was never more pleasant, your Grace in better humour, nor my Late in better Tune. For Berseel itself, I could not at my return but give it this Character: That 'twas the only remains o'th' Terrestrial Paradise, the world being still there in its first Innocence, the Tree of 〈◊〉 only wanting to make them live perpetually, The air being so pure, as heal●h has made there its constant residence: and sickness dares not come within the sphere of Zeph●rus breath, who has taken possession of the territory thereabouts, and suffers no wind to blow there besides its self, whilst the Liquid crystal of its silver Moat serves both for mirror to its lofty buildings, and the Wood Nymphs too, who with little Sports and Cupids on every Tree, in fresh revelry every day, pass all the year. The Genius of the place is always sprightly, and the spirit of May is always there. In fine, 'tis an Academy of nightingales; and the Bees, those little Huntfeasts of Flowers, sinned nowhere better, nor more abundant store, than there, where flowers grow everywhere, and crop but one, and straight seven more spring up in place of it, whether 't be the goodness and fertility of the soil, or the virtue and fairness of the hand that gathers them; Heaven having privileged this place, with that happiness above all others, that it should never fall, but into the fairest hands of the Universe. Thus I; but this I know (my Lord) comes short of your Idea of it, whose quick Imagination goes far beyond all others Expressions, wherefore I'll leave this theme, and come to that other of the Reason why after Madmoiselle de B's letting blood there was found so equal a mixture of blood and water, as the nicest sense could not distinguish it; for which, whilst we were soliciting our Muses till after Midnight, and could not obtain any Reason of them, behold that mine gave me next morning. 
Of this so just and equal mingly  
Of water and blood, what should the Reason be?  
But only this, being forced to part from her,  
Each drop of blood for Grief did shed a Tear.  And now (my Lord) your Grace is obliged to admit of this Reason, or afford a better; which I know is as easy and natural to you, as 'tis to me to be always  
Your grace's most, &c.   

XXXI. To Madamoselle de B. Anno 50.  
The Reason of his leaving BRUXELLES to wait upon the Duchess of LOREIN into the Country.  
Madamoiselle,  
THe Roman Stories make mention of a certain Lady so nobly constant to the Afflicted, as when her Husband had cast her Father into banishment, she left her Husband, and followed him; and when her father's Faction (afterwards prevailing) did the like by her H●sband, she followed him again, and lef● her Father; and I should more praise this disposition, if it were not mine own, I having followed the Queen Mother so, as now I do her Highness, that they might see, I followed not their Fortunes but themselves; nor is it virtue, but Interest in me, who love the good Graces of those I am with, above all the benefits they can bestow on me; of which your Princes are then most liberal, when they have nothing to bestow on you besides; so there is somewhat methinks in great Princes, as in the Sun, that makes them the more regardable the more they are eclipsed, and somewhat more venerable in ruined Palaces, than when they are entire. I speak not this (Mademoiselle) with any reflection on her highness' Fortune, but on mine own disposition, who was pleased to say publicly, when I had resolved to wait on her into the Country; That none ever running at the Ring was more solicitous to carry away the prize, than she was to carry me away from you. In revanche of which I can assure her highness, that none ever having gained in prize some precious jewel, was more careful to conserve it, than I shall be the honour of her good Graces. Mean while think not, (mademoiselle) that I leave you for her; but only hope to serve you the more in serving her; You being so good a Sister, as I know you prefer her contentment to your own, or rather have no contentment but only hers; to which if I shall confer any thing, 'tis all the Ambition, as 'tis but the duty of  
Mademoiselle, Your, &c.   

XXXII. To Monsieur Laurins, Lieutenant Civil at Gant, Anno 50.  
Noble Sir,  
I Have finished my little Circle of the world (Encompassing only the Borders of Asia, Africa, and America) and am returned to Bruxelles, the point where I first begun, remaining much unsatisfied (the while) that I took no greater compass; yet was I rather wanting to the opportunity, than the opportunity to me: The Count d' Averos (newly made viceroy of the East-Indies at my return from the West offering me the like accommodation with him thither, as I had with Don Roderigo d' Alancastro (who had married his Daughter) in returning from Brasil (that is, my diet and lodging with himself) (to which the King would have willingly assented, and munificently contributed) which, with many humble thanks I refused then, and if I repent me now, 'tis because I weigh it without the same Circumstances which then turned the Scales, (the extreme l●ssitude of one Voyage, and danger of th'other) not one Portugal ship of three returning safe from that voyage, whilst not one in ten of the Hollanders ever miscarries, the doubling the Cape of Bona Esperanza being only dangerous at some seasons in the years, which season they never avoid, (by their own confession) so unwise men, or so ill Mariners they are, not better to know to Time their Voyage, or Trim their Ship; But enough of Voyaging: and now 'tis time for me, like a ship safe returned to Harbour, to Carine and rest awhile, and tempt Fortune no longer, since Quem saepe transit ●●sus aliquando invenit, not one in a hundred ever having been so fortunate as I, nor (perhaps) did I live ● hundred years, should I ever be so fortunate again, I never knowing what danger was by L●nd, nor storms by Sea, in 8 years travelling by one, and two years' Voyage by t'other (so rare a felicity as (perhaps) none could ever boast besides myself) so are there certain conjunctions which never but at certain periods (like eclipses) encounter, as was this to be defrayed and entertained, where e'er I went (in manner) at the public cost, like some public ambassador; one chief reason of which I imagine to have been my indifferency of travelling to any place where I had not been before (those who bind themselves to a●y one course ●n particular, renouncing to For●unes concurrency to all the rest) yet let none ever hope the like advantages, that are not signalised by some remarkable qualities (as I was by music, &c.) There being somewhat in Art (whilst exercised in no mechanic way) above Fortune, that makes Princes more favour those t●at excel in th'one than tother, they looking on th'ne, as their Subjects, but on tother, as their Companions (there being no superiority in Art as there is in Fortune, but the best, not the greatest carries it) This you should see now Sir if you were at Brussels, where whilst others far richer than myself are kept at distance, I am admitted to such a familiarity with those Grandees, as some Admire, some Envy, and all Emulate, all which honour I should not glory in, if it were not accompanied with that of being  
Sir Your, &c.   

XXXIII. To Madamoiselle de B. Anno. 50.  
Of Language.  
Madamoiselle,  
SInce you honour me so much to permit me to entertain you weekly (or oftener) with our occurrences, and my meditations here, and please to give me the hint sometimes of the Subject I am to treat of, as now you do; be also pleased to understand that for Languages, 'tis to embark without biscuit, or travel without viaticum for any to travel, or undertake a voyage without the Language of the Count●y, where he goes; for a shift ('tis true) one may have recourse to their Country men in foreign parts, but that is but a kind of begging to be understood, and travelling in forma Pauperis; and as you must seek them out in Corners, so must you confine yourself to Corners while you converse with them; for my part I account it altogether as necessary for those who travel to make provision of Language● as of money, & therefore I never travail any wh●●●, but 〈◊〉 provide me with furniture 〈◊〉 of ●anguages for so vast a Room, as those 〈◊〉 ●ries ● travail through: and if you demand of●●●e which Language I found the most l●rge an●●preading, and of greatest latitude and extension, the best way to answer you, is to give you first the plane of the Room, and next to let you see the several pieces of Languages to furnish it. First then for French it serves you through all Flanders, Spain, Savoy up to Italy (exclusively) as through the Neitherland up to Sweadland, Denmark and Poland, the other way) where almost all the people of quality speak French. Then for Italian it serves you not only through all Italy, but Sicily, Malt●, and almost all the Isles of the Ar●hipelag● and Medditerranean Sea, up to Constantinople, where your Language begins to change, and fails you in travel●●ng further Levant▪ wherefore to return back again, It serves through all Dalmatia, and b●yond the Venetians Territory up to Austria, where 'tis spoke commonly in the Emperor's Court, as almost in all the Prince's Courts of G●●many. Now for Spanish it not only serves you through all Spain and Portugal▪ but along all the Coast, and the Isles of A●frique to the Brasils', and either Indies. For Dutch next, It not only serves you in Germany, Switzerland, the Low Countries, Denmark, Sweadland, but everywhere by Sea, which is as properly the Hollanders Country, as any Land they or any other Nation Inhabit and possess; and lastly for Latin and English (to tell you true) they only served me to stop holes with; the English Language out of our Dominions being like our English money current with much ado in neighbouring Countries who traffic with us; but farther off you must go to bankers of your own Nation, or none will take it of your hands. And for Latin, it being nowhere a vulgar Language, but the Sacred and Erudite Tongue, take even the Clergy and Schoolmen themselves (whose proper Language it ought to be) out of the Church or Schools, and you cannot do them a greater displeasure, than speak Latin to them, so as it rather serves to interlard other Languages, than to make an entire meal of discourse, and but upon great necessity is never to be used. And now I'll tell you an observation or two concerning Languages, e'er I end this Letter; and the first is, that (almost) all the Languages of Europe, are originally derived from the two main Fount●●ns of the Almain or Latin Tongue, the Italian, French and Spanish branching from the last, as the Low Dutch, D●nish, English, &c. from the first. The next is the influence they have, according as their countries, Border and Con●●ne one upon another, or by flux and reflux of Trade; The Italian for example being more Current in Turkey than the French, for the first reason: As the French (for the second) is more current than the Spanish there. The last is concerning your subordinate Languages, as the Walloon and Liegois to the French, the Portuguez to the Spanish, and Scotch to English, &c. all which understand you in speaking the chief or Master Language, but not o'th' contrary, and all these your Master Language says use but their old absolet words, as Servants wear their Master's old Garments, but they (too proud to acknowledge this) say rather, that as old men keep constant to their old fashions, whilst their Sons refine daily upon them in bravery, and change for new, so the plainness of their Language, is but an Argument of the antiquity thereof. To conclude (mademoiselle) 'twould be difficult for me to tell you which of these Languages served me most in travelling about the world, were not the French that I have the happiness to converse with you in, whom I esteem above all the world besides, to that therefore I must give the preeminence, and subscribe as I do this Letter, with the Assurances that I am  
Mademoiselle, Your, &c.   

XXXIV To the same.  
Of the pronunciation o● several Languages.  
Madamoiselle,  
IN my last I discoursed t'ye of several Languages; now if you please I'll treat of their several pronunciation, and withal make a lazy Apology for my pronouncing them so ill: First then for French, you know the Queen-Mother would never suffer them to correct me when I erred, saying, that If they taught me to speak well, she should want the sport of hearing me speak so ill; and betwixt the Latin, Span●sh and Italian there is so little difference in most words, as what betwixt negligence and unadvertance, assured to be understood, though they pronounce them ill, sew are careful and curious enough to pronounce them well; besides their similitude is so great, as (like Twins of the same Parent) one hardly distinguishes them, which, similitude as it facilitates the understanding of them in general, so it renders the pronunciation of them in particular more difficult, so as I (for my part) count it as hard to speak pure and without mixture, as 'tis for your Water drinker there to spurt several liquours out of his Mouth, without confounding the taste of Bear with Vinager, or Aquavitae with Wine, &c. Besides to one (like me) who regards more the matter then the words, and the words then the pronunciation; and are of opinion that there is no supreme excellency in the world (besides only in yourself) I count it as great trifling in him should seek to rid and weed his mouth of all Impropriety of some words▪ and mispronouncing of other (in speaking other languages) as 'tis in him should go about to sweep an earthen floor too every g●ain of Dust, or rid a Garden from all its weeds, quod ere nascitur, vix evitatur, that which i● c●●●atural to a thing being impossible to be av●yded. Suffice it then, that speak as well as one can other languages besides his own, unless from his Childhood he has been trained up in them, In which case they are as natural to him as his own, and he sha●● speak with the allowance of a stranger still (It matters not much, whe'r'● be a grain or two more or less) let me then understand a stranger Language, so as to make all I hear or read in it mine own, and speak it so as I may be understood, and let whose will take the bootl●sse pains to pronounce it well, and have the reputation of an affected Traveller for me: To conclude (mademoiselle) I shall never envy him who tells you in finer language than myself, that he is your most Humble Servant, &c. but 'twould inflict me much that any one should be indeed more than I am  
Mademoiselle Your, &c.   

XXXV. To Madamoiselle de B.  
Of Fame.  
Madamoiselle,  
COnsidering the mighty eulogiums and magnificent praises that has ever been given to Fame by all kingdoms and republics on th'one side, the airiness and the fabulousness of it on th'other side, it makes me half suspect that there is more of Policy than Reality in the thing; for who would do great and noble Actions? who would expose their lives for their Countries? if somewhat beyond their Lives did not excite them to't? If the memory of what they did were terminated with themselves, or that memory nothing appertained to them when they were gone, Hence 'tis, that this is used as a spur to incite men unto virtue; 'Tis fame's Trumpet, that encourages men, and edges them to valour, and the sound of this like that of Meltiades Trophies to Themistocles, is still resounding in our Ears, and animating us to great and noble Actions; But if (as I say) we examine on th'other side, the frivolousness of the Thing, we shall find ourselves imposed by antiquity, and conclude with that Greek, who taken with the voice of the nightingale, and imagining it some mighty thing, pluming it (for curiosity) and seeing what it was, cried out, Vox est, & praeterea nihil, that 'twas a Voice, and nothing else. For first, if we consider the Fame of Writers, (in which the Fames of all others are included) both in its duration and immensity, (for these two, forsooth, they promise you, shall never be terminate, and always permanent) if we consider, I say, unto how small a part and portion of the world their Fames can penetrate, how few understand their Language, and how few of those who do, can read it, and lastly how few of those who can are curious; surely instead of painting it with wings, we might more properly paint it with Plumets at the heels, and in lieu of imagining it flying about the world, we may imagine it rather penned up, and fluttering about some narrow birdcage or volary: So as 'tis as great a folly and vanity to imagine what we write in our Language, or any other crudite Tongue whatsoever, can make any ●ar progress in other Countries, as to imagine the sound of a Cymbal, or little tinkling B●ll could be heard over all the Universe. Then for the duration or perpetuating of it when I am dead, what avails that me, or how can it more rejoice and delight me, than music played at my Tomb or Monument? When I am named, who remembers what I was? or when those are dead that knew me, who reflects upon my person hearing me mentioned; give me then Fame alive, and take whose list my Fame when I am dead, which at most, is but as the echo of dying voices, or the perfume of expiring Odours, rather shadows than substances, and not so much as pictures, which terminate at least the imagination to certain species and Resemblances. And if any one object, By this opinion all Incitement to virtue and to noble and heroic Actions is ta'en away; I absolutely deny it, and affirm that the Fame we enjoy alive, and our Countries and Families after our death, is sufficient incitement, and encouragement enough: so as to conclude, I must answer you, mademoiselle, demanding what Fame is, as that ancient did him, who desired to know of him what God was, That he would tell him on the morrow; when summoned of his promise, he demanded two days' respite more: and so went multiplying Time and delays, till being pressed at last, he answered ingenuously, That before he thought of it he imagined he know it, but the more he thought of it, the less he knew of it; and here (mademoiselle,) before I conclude, that the worshippers of this Fame may not think me Atheist, I have made this following Hymn, here to its honour, to acquit me of Impiety.  
Fame that from great & noble Actions comes,  
As precious Odours from Arabian Gums,  
The shadow that from brighter virtue flows,  
And follows it along where e'er it goes,  
The echo of great names, the walking spirit,  
And Ghost of mighty men, the Tripartite  
Division of us, when we're dead and gone,  
And nothing left of's here, but thee alone.  
When Heaven our Soul has (where it never dies)  
The Earth our Bodies, Fame our Memories;  
Since only thou 'tis mak'st our memories last,  
Nor can oblivion ever draw so fast  
Her Curtain or't, as thou'lt undrawed again,  
To show the fairer Portrait of 't to men.  
To whom, fair daughter of eternity,  
Should we commend ourselves and works, but thee,  
Through whose sole benefit 'tis, if we survive,  
Long as there's worlds, or men be left alive.   

XXXVI. To Madamoiselle de Clerque at Gant, Anno 50.  
Wherein he declares the Life they led in the Country.  
Madamoiselle,  
MY endeavours have not been wanting, nor ever shall, to maintain that good Intelligence betwixt her Altezze of Lorraine and you, who often mentions you with much honour and tenderness, and the ofter perhaps for my giving her the occasion, She always honouring me with that complacency, to prosecute willingly that discourse which I begin, we often wish you here, and to incite you to visit us the sooner, I'll tell you how we pass our time. The mornings, having finished our Devotions, About an hour before dinner we have a little consort of Viols, Lutes, and Ghittars, which we often vary, together with our pieces for more variety; neither the Duchess, Princess, nor I, but play our parts on all, and if Madamoiselle de Beauvais be with us, as oftentimes she is, they sing 3 parts, to which I play the Base, nor shall you anywhere hear more excellent voices, nor airs more excellently sung; having dined, and some one or two hours past in pleasant conversation; If the day be fair, we go abroad in Coach to take the Air, a second Coach following, and some Horse, besides the Princess in Side-Saddle, who takes much delight in her little Pal●rey, and rides excellent well, though not above 12 year old: From our journey, which never ends without some Banquet or Collation, we return about Sun set, and dance Court and Country Dances, some hour or two before Supper, our company of Women Dancers, or Ladies of the Court being strong, but of men weak, unless some noblemen of Brussels or Englis● Gentlemen come over to us, as ordinarily they do: After Supper we either play at Cards, or at the sports of wit and laughter, and all sorts of Petits Jeus, which ended, the Duchess and Princess retire to their several Appartements, and each one to theirs, we having one main advantage here, to be free from the tyranny of Clocks, which tells you peremptorily what hours you must rise, eat, and go to bed at, whom you must punctually obey forsooth (as Sheep go to Pasture, or Hens to roost) whether you have mind or appetite to't or no, or you're disorderly and irregular; An Order and Regularity fitter for monks and friars than Seculars, for Slaves than Freemen▪ and for Knitting women than Ladies, If you like this life (Mademoiselle) do but come over to us, and you shall have your part of it, and find the Duchess ready to welcome you, and me most ready to wait upon you, who am  
Mademoiselle Your, &c.   

XXXVII. To Madamoiselle de Beauvais.  
The Vices of evil Tongues arraigned.  
Mad●moiselle,  
I Know not how you got the secret (but I'm sure you have it) to charm ill Tongues, and so stop the mouth of Mesdisance, as whilst every one (almost) speaks ill of others, every one speaks well of you; Is it because you speak ill of none? and give none occasion to speak ill of you? but they can do it without occasion, and when you give them none, can take it of themselves; or is your high virtue above the reach of evil Tongues? but nothing in this Age is above their reach, who are so curious of finding fault, as where their eyes fail them, they invent new Prospectives, to find spots our even in the Sun itself; or is it lastly, a certain Majesty in your person, that daunts and awes them to Reverence? What ever it be, I must admire and congratulate your felicity, and profess myself as glad of't, (being to speak against the Vices of Evil Tongues) as one would be in a strange Country to find out one that understood his own Language. Purposing then to arraign those Vices, I have chosen you for judge, the only Impartial one I know of, that is not complice with the Criminel. First Vice than I intend to call unto the bar, shall be Mocking, jeering, and Derision, rather Abuses than Crimes, and next the more Criminous ones of calumny, and Detraction.  

Of Mocking, jeering, and Derision.  
Mocking, jeering and Derision, may be defined a malicious publishing of others Imperfections, with intent to render them ridiculous, (for if it be their Vices, 'tis Reproach and Contumely, and done on purpose to render them odious,) and 'tis lawful in no case, but only when Imperfections are affected, to laugh them out of them; whence 'tis good when used for physic, but when only for poison, 'tis detestable. However, it becomes none but Buffoons, and under pain of becoming Ridiculous one's self, none is to endeavour to make others so. It tends to enmity, if it proceeds not thence; (for the faults of those we love, we seek to hide, and never seek to find fault with any, but those we care not for:) Mean time, whilst they imagine they show their wits, they but show their folly by't, and want of wit, none more foolishly purchasing Enemies, than they; it being as great a folly for a jest to lose a friend, as to sell one's Horse to buy him Provender. 'Tis a dangerous Vice too, being commonly the occasion of quarrel, (whilst it touches men where theyare most sensible) and therefore none but Women may safely use it; which is the cause (perhaps) why now adays more women are tainted with this vice than men. And if you mark it, their Mocking and Jeering at others, is principally for not being fine Gentlemen, and a la mode (forsooth) they learning by looking on their Glasses, to look on nothing but superficial things; (having more regard to the discomposure of ones Garments, than of their manners, and the disorder of their hair, than of their mind) and for such as these, your blunt man mars their mirth, his not being put out of Countenance by't, putting them out of countenance themselves: Such an one was our Countrymen Sir Roger Williams, an excellent soldier, but a blunt Courtier, who coming to Court after the loss of sluice in Flanders, and being jeered for it by the Ladies, with Is this he that delivered up sluice? Pray let's see him, a doughty soldier no doubt he is. Answered them brusquely, Yes Ladies, I am he; and on so good conditions, there is none of you▪ but would have delivered up your sluices too. Nor did he spare Queen Elizabeth herself, when waiting long at Court to deliver a certain Petition for arrears of pay, and the Queen not willing to see him, he one day encountering her where was no avoiding him, she, to put him out of countenance, feigned to smell some evil savour in the Room, crying nicely out, Fogh, What a stink's here? Williams, I think it be your Boots (said she) that smell so. No by— said he, 'tis my Petition (Madam) I have kept it so long, e'er I could get it delivered. But to return to our subject. There are divers sorts of Derisions and Mockery; Some by whisper, others more openly; some before ones face; others behind one's back; some finally by laughing outright, and others Ironically, and by dissembled scorn: Of which, that of whisper is commonly the most offensive, which, whilst it takes away all place from Reply, leaves place to imagine the Injury greater than it is; whence, whilst the Affront perhaps regards but one, the Offence of it extends itself to all. Your public way of Jeering is most dangerous, and your secret more base and cowardly; above all your ironical one does the least harm to those they mock, and the most to those who use it; it marring their Natures quite, and teaching them falsehood and dissembling. And generally those who are so diligent in marking others faults and Imperfections, must needs be full of Faults and Imperfections themselves; Since, whilst their minds are still abroad to observe others faults, they can never be at home to mark and amend their own. In fine, however light they make of it, they are to know, that no Generous spirit but can easilier brook Injury than Scorn, and the reparation of it too, is easier made: and that they but render themselves by it odious unto all, it being natural for men to love those who esteem them, as 'tis to hate all those who disesteem them, (as those who mock and jeer them manifestly declare they do.) To conclude, I could with them only to observe this rule, Never to say any thing of others, but what they would say before their faces, or what they would others should say of them behind their backs.   

Of Slander, calumny, and Detraction.  
But Mocking, jeering, and Derision, are nothing to Slander, calumny, and Detraction. Those but point with the finger, but these brand in the forehead; those but strike, but these wound; let those say no more, and there's an end, but these must unsay what they have said, and like venomous Beasts, resorp their own poison, and like Witches and Sorcerers undo their own spells and charms, or the poison and the mischief remains still. To distinguish them, Detraction seeks to take away my Good name, and calumny to purchase me an Ill. For Example, Detraction comes and says of one that's esteemed an honourable and virtuous Lady, that she is not so honourable and virtuous as is imagined; when having laid the Egg, calumny comes and hatches it, saying that she has her G●llants too, as well as others; after which▪ comes Slander, and for conclusion, names persons, and charges her with certain Crimes; whence you see, the first has more of the Envy, and the second two more of the Malice; the first Slights, the second Reproaches, and third Defames; These (is those who have the Plague seek to infect others with their sores,) you shall always find sowing of their malice in others minds; when take it for a General Rule, what ever they report to you of others, is ●●ther wholly false, or never wholly true; for they doing it to mischief others, do it with ●ll the malice they can devise, and owing a 〈◊〉 to those they calumniate, do it, you 〈◊〉 be sure, as spitefully as they can. But let t●●m take heed, for where the Scripture s●●s 〈◊〉 ●hall answer for every idle word, (such as 〈◊〉 Mocking and Jeering) On the contrary, we shall never be able to answer for our spiteful and malicious ones, (such as are Detract●on, Slander, and calumny) whence it distinguishes▪ and says (in effect) that whosoever concristats and offends his brother, shall be liable to judgement; but whosoever injures and desames him, shall be liable to Condemnation: but as there would be no Thiev●s, if there were no Receivers; so there would be no Calumniators, if none would give ear unto their Calumnies, wherefore 'tis rather our faults then, than theirs, who whilst we vainly imagine the depressing others a kind of exalting ourselves, and that we are magnified, whilst others are lessened, if we truly consider it, we shall find we but depress & lessen ourselves by it, & declare our own indigence & want of worth the whilst, as Ladies who use painting or choppins do their want of beauty, and their own littleness: For me then, when any goes about to make me Enemy of any, I conclude he is their Enemy, and no friend of mine, with this distich.  
▪ who'd have me doubt another is my Foe,  
First makes me doubt wh'er he's my friend or no.    

XXXVIII. To the Lady,— An. 51  
Of Secrets.  
BEtwixt making a secret of every thing and nothing, there is a difference and mean, and great judgement is requisite to know what's to be kept secret, and what not: you shall have some of so Laxative Tongue, they are in pain to be delivered of all they know, and these are never to be entrusted with any reports above the Region of bakehouse or barber's news: Others again are so Costive and ha●d-bound, as they will not tell you how they do without caution, and will whisper you the Weather and Time of the day as a great secret. When you hear one say, I know more than I will or dare speak of, &c. know 'tis but a call for the Curious and Inquisitive, & he longs to tell it you; so when you see any Inquisitive, you may conclude them talkers too, and but factors & Ingrosers of news only to divulge it afterwards. These are those who with their reports embroil themselves and others, so sophisticating what they hear (as Hucksters do their ware) as e'er it pass their mouths, you may be sure 'tis either wholly false, or never wholly true, they corrupt & fly-blow it so with their reporting it; and such should be banished all civil company, where they only sow the seed of lies, mistake and quarrel: For my part, I observe this rule in all companies where I come, never to speak any thing of others that may do harm; but on the contrary all the good I can; ●or example, when I say this or this such an one said of you, &c. It shall be so advantageous to either, as to beget a good opinion and intelligence in both; But what if they did not speak well or them, will you say? why in that case Ill tell the speaker of it, not those are spoken ill of; for this may mend matters, t'other but make them worse, and exasperate them the more, for the rest, what every one may know, I'll make no dainty to tell every one; for he to no purpose gets the reputation of close and shy, who is continually reserved; and who on ordinary occasions is so cautious, for extraordinary reserves no caution for himself. Above all, I'll willingly participate no secret which others may know besides myself, not to be responsible for their blabbing it, neither are they more secrets insused into many conscious breasts, than waters are Rivers when cut into many branches & rivulets. In fine, Madamoiselle, as that Prince's Favourite was wise who when his Pr. demanded of him what he should impart unto him of all he had? answered any thing, but his secrets, and so say I: Wherefore chide me and spare not, if ever you perceive me inquisitive of others secrets, or injurious in my reports of them, and this Madam I give you under my hand, that when I transgress herein, this Letter may be witness against me of that want of Temper and discretion that is requisite in one that has the honour to be  
Madam, Your, &c.   

XXXIX To the Lady,—  
How we are to contemn the Calumnies of the World.  
I Never knew any one nobly eminent in any kind but they were envied and calumniated; It being the nature of base and low spirits, despairing to arrive to that height, to which others by their merits and excellencies are attained, to seek by detraction to pluck them down as low as they; nor will it be ever so happy with the world, to have more Emulators than Envious: Emulation making men strive to be as good as others, but Envy to make others as bad as it, whence this vice is only found amongst the worser sort, to whom every one that's better than they seems to exprobate their being so ill; so as 'tis either some particular hate or self love that blinds them from seeing their own faults as well as those of other men's, else they would never calumniate others as they do, if they but considered, that one ought to be most clear themselves of those faults they reproach to others, and he who cheaply sells others fame (upon th' account) makes but the Market to buy his own. Mean while it being as impossible all should speak well, as that all should do well, and 'tis not what we are, but what they are that make them speak ill of us: we are to endeavour so to live, as our lives may give the lie to their reports, and that they may never say true any harm of us, and let them say false what they please, 'twill be more their own harm than ours.  
To this purpose (Madam) I'll tell you a pleasant story, which I use often to recount, when I would laugh at these busy Censurers of others Actions. An Old man and his Son (a young stripling) travelling on the way, the Boy mounted on an ass, the Father trudging it on foot; The first Company they met began to revile the Boy, calling him ungracious Rascal, was he not ashamed to ride, and let his Father walk on foot (nor must you imagine the charitable presage of hanging was forgot amongst them.) At this the Boy desired his Father to get up, and let him walk on foot; which being done, the next Company reviled the Father as much as formerly t'other had done the Son, calling him hard-hearted and cruel (strong and robustous as he was) to ride, and let the Tender Infant walk on foot; when the Father to content them took up his Son behind him, and so they jogged on a while, till the next Company railed on them afresh, for over-burthening the poor ass, calling them more Beasts than he (nor did the ass ever know before how many friends he had amongst the multitude) when to content these at last the Father and Son both light and led the ass, which when the next Company espied, they laughed at them more than the others had railed at them before, calling them a hundred fools, to tire and weary themselves, having an ass to ride on: When the Good man perceiving the impossibility of contenting the world, and avoiding its censure, wisely resolved thereafter to content himself, and let them judge and censure him as they pleased.  
And 'twas a wise resolution, I having found by experience, that one sooner stops the mouth of calumny by a resolute going on their way, than a too nice fear of irritating it, it being of the nature of Cowards, the more you fear it, the more outrageous it becomes, and the vulgar like Apelles Coblar, but care for its censure once, and they will never leave censuring you; Mean time I know, as the Apostle says, that I am debtor in point of Fame both to the foolish and the wise, but if they won't accept the payment, when 'tis lawfully tendered them, but find fault and cavil still; let them still remain unsatisfied for me, and for that vae scandal●, that woe to scandal, 'tis to be understood where scandal is given, not where 'tis taken before 'tis given.  
To conclude this point, never brave spirit yet, cared what the Vulgar said, nor ever was brave nor noble Action performed by those that did. Insomuch as Alcibiades would administer them matter himself to censure him. Alexander gloried in it affirming nothing was more great, nor Kingly, than to do well, and hear ill for it; and Aristides was so offended at the people's speaking well of him, as he asked his Friends, not without Indignation, What ill he had done that he should deserve it at their hands.  
But what should we go so far for Examples, when we have others nearer home, I remembering to have heard of the late Earl of Exeter, how (amongst his many other Excellent Apothegms) he demanded one day of his Lady, Whether none spoke ill of him? and she assuring him they were so far from it, as (on the contrary) every one spoke well of him; Mary, and I am sorry for it, said he, for 'tis a sign I have nothing of extraordinary, they being most commonly your ordinariest persons of whom the world speaks well, with the slight commendations of Oh he is a good man! An honest man! &c. But God be thanked there is no great danger of that in the Age wherein we live, Calumny being so universal a a Trade now, as every one is of it; Neither need you take care to afford them ● matter, for they can make it of themselves, and out of themselves (as the Spider does) So whilst 'twas the Custom in ancient Times (when there was more Charity in the world) to excuse the Act by the Intention, we are now arrived to such a height of uncharity to condemn the Intentision, when we can't the Act, at least, calling Devotion, hypocrisy; Honest Liberty, dissoluteness; Complacency, Flattery; nor is there any Action so Good, they cannot find a bad name for; nor entail upon't an ill intention, insomuch as one was so injurious to his Mistress Beauty not long since to say, 
" Cease jealous Thoughts, and thus resolve at last,  
" She has more beauty than becomes the chaste,  Worthy of no Mistress, but such an ugly one as none should Love but he, who would entitle Deformity, rather than Beauty to virtue, against the intention of Nature, with whom it implies a certain fitness to conserve choicest jewels in the fairest Cabinets, and to lodge the noblest persons in the stateliest Palaces; Yet such is the Iniquity of the Times, as Beauty only, because 'tis Beautiful, is calumniated now, as virtue, because 'tis out of fashion: And this Madam is just your case, whose excessive beauty makes you not only the mark of Envious Eyes, but also of malicious Tongues, to spit their venom at, whilst defended by your Innocence, their poison, like the Cockatrices, but returns upon themselves. Mean time thank your beauty (Madam) or rather he who gave it you, for delivering you by it from the many vices of your detractors, you having too many perfections to envy the praise of them in others, or to calumniate that in them, which is so praise worthy in yourself, whilst you need not vex Nature nor yourself, as they do, to become fairer than you are. To whom (or rather to the Truth indeed) I must give this Testimony, that having as a Spy of all that's fair and good, travailed almost o'er all the world, I never met with greater Beauty accompanied with greater Innocence, nor one who thought less harm, because she did none, nor judged less ill of others, because she knew none in herself, and of this your cheerfulness and freedom of behaviour is to me sufficient Argument; Those who dissemble most commonly overdoing, whilst they are over-anxious to do enough; whilst who are secretly immodest, clothe it in an outward demureness, and feigned modesty, which most commonly, like Gold gilt, shows fairer than Gold ● itself.  
If any fault then there be, 'tis in the Time itself, which though it can never warrant bad Actions, can render Indifferent warrantable at least, and so I see no reason but our behaviour, as our fashons, may alter with the times, and become more large or straight, as the fashons are. To conclude this point, what is affected is deformed. as what is natural is ever becoming as 'tis (Madam) in you to be cheerfully free, and in a word, yourself▪ In which I wish none to imitate you, if they be not of your disposition, nor you to alter, unless you be of theirs.  
Be still then yourself (Madam) in spite of your Detractors; that is, one of the fairest and beautifullest creatures in the world, and let none make you less Good, by calumniating your goodness as they do; And in conlusion assure yourself, that as you shall never want Detractors of the baser sort: (as are all such who detract from you) So of the better and nobler you shall never want Admirers and Honoures: amongst the rest (Madam) I hope more than one Age, as more than one Nation shall testify how much I am your faithful Honourer and Admirer.   

XL. To Madamoiselle de B.  
Of Affectation.  
Madamoiselle,  
YOu know the Sun with his beams cheers not, nor is more diffusively good, tha● her highness with her presence. who Yesterday was pleased to graoe a Country Wedding here with her Company, where the Country people (you may imagine) put on their best Mine to entertain her, and the dancers set the best foot forwards to show their Agilities: Amongst the rest a Country Fellow laid about him with Arms and legs, so as I looked still when they would fly off from him, and feared ever and anon as he approached me, lest he would throw them at my head, at boys do Cudgels at Plum-trees. Verily, mademoiselle, never any Wheel so whirled about, nor spoaks e'er turned so fast, so as you could not perceive whi●h part of him was upwards, or which was undermost; yet did he imagine he danced excellent well, and was the more confirmed in it, the more we laughed at him: such fool's self-opinion makes of men, whilst it hood-winks them so, they cannot see their own Imperfections, and so besots them, as they imagine none else does; Nay, makes them mistake Vices and Faults for Imperfections; Whereupon I considered the deformity of Affectation, which makes people so anxious to do enough, as most commonly they overdo, and all excess you know is vicious, as all that's vicious is ugly and deformed. In fine, after the poor fellow had taken pains a great while to make himself Ridiculous, he gave over for pure weariness, and all panting, looked about to see who commended him, when frustrated of his expectation, he was as much dejected with the want of it, as he was elated with the expectation of it before: so it exposes us not only to the Derision of others, but to dejection also in ourselves. You see the use I make of my time in every place, and how I Philosophy on every thing, with only this difference, that where you are, my meditations are delightful and serious, where you are not, every thing ●eems to me irksome, and ridiculous; no more but the tres-humble baisemains of all the Ladies of our Court, and of Madamoiselle.  
Your, &c.   

XLI. To Madamoselle de B. Anno 51.  
Inviting her into the Country, the Plague being hot at BRUXELLES.  
Madamoiselle,  
IT being absolutely necessary in these dangerous Times, that you quit Bruxelles; 'tis concluded in a Council of War, to use all means of persuasion, force and stratagem, to make you abandon it. First we send you Master John here, to make you an eloquent Oration with all his Tropes and Figure, and his topics de bono utili, & del●ctabili, to persuade you into the Country; neither wants he his flowers of rhetoric out of Cicero, and the muse's Garden, far beyond all the Gardens you have at Bruxelles. If that won't do 〈◊〉 we are resolved to try force an other while; to which end we'●l implore the assistance of our Ladies of Succour by our ambassador Sir Toby Matthews (Powerful wi●h Ladies as you know) and old Monsieur Hurdlestone with his Baston of Marishal de camp shall lead the succours up. If that fail, we'll employ stratagem, and Gros Jean shall be worked to undermine you in the cellar he has in keeping under your Appartement, or if he can't be corrupted, we'll employ some Holland engineer to derive all the Spa water from Bruxelles hither, that you may be enforced to come and take it here. In fine we are resolved to use all possible means to make you leave the Town, when having got you here, we will erect a Trophy of Bottles on the place, and drinking you health in pure Mosella wine, so triumph for it here, as you shall not need to envy them the recreations of the Spa, we'll walk i'th' mornings, and ride abroad to take the Air every afternoon, & instead o'th' Meadow, we'll dance here on the green a Chanson, and our six and Thirty English dances every night; After which, Madamoiselle, 'twill be ●ime, I think, to bid you Good night  
Your, &c.   

XLII To Madamoiselle—  
Taking Exceptions at somew●at he had writ.  
Madamoiselle,  
I Lay me down most humbly at your feet, demanding your pardon—  
Madamoiselle,  
WHat should I say, or what should I not say in my excuse?—  
Madamoiselle,  
TO say your Exceptions were not just, were to accuse you, and to say they were, were to accuse myself—  
Madamoiselle,  
THat Friend that suspects me without cause, must attend less satisfaction from me than an Enemy—  
mademoiselle,  
NEver was man so embarased and perplexed as I; not knowing betwixt the too humble, and the too brave, what to write or say. there's none than yourself, I'm sure better understands raillery, nor better knows to distinguish betwixt the Gentle and Piqua●t, yet do you interpret to evil sense and intention my but naming the Duke of— and deducing a parallel betwixt the shines of Damosels in this age, and those in the days of knight's Errantry, who were not afraid to encounter Cavaliers alone in Wildernesses; whilst those now a days are afraid to meet them in a Park or Garden, and that in Company. I pray Madamoiselle hereafter have more bounty for me, and declare yourself at least so much my friend, as not to look on me as an Enemy; for if you did not, you could not interpret my words so sinisterly as you do.  
There are some Pictures so contrived, as look on them on th'ne side, and they appear Angels, on tother Devils, and in the middle Men. Just such things are words (the Pictures of our mind) a Friend interprets them to good, an Enemy to evil, and one indifferent to neither. How, Madamo●selle, I should esteem of you, declare I beseech you by your more favourable interpretation of all I write and do, whilst how you should esteem of me all I write and do shall testify, which is, that I am  
Madamois●lle, Your, &c.   

XLII. Per speculum in Enigmate. Or a mirror in Enigma presented to the Princess of LOREIN.  
Spoken by the mirror.  
Madam,  
AS 'tis the fashion of all those who present their services to any one, to declare their Countries, Birth, and Quality, your Highness may please to know that I am Venetian by Nation, of as Illustrious Extraction as any Magnifico of them all, and of a Family as unble misht and untainted; for my Qualities, I am sincere, and tell others there faults without fl●ttery, and that so far from humour of finding fault, as I tell them as well their virtues and perfections too. I am strangely fantastic (I must confess) wearing my clothes within, as others do without, and ●o awkward, as where others use their right hand, I use my left; For the rest, (to confess my weakness) I am most frail, and subject to fall, if I be'nt looked well unto, and am so weak of constitution, as 'tis a hundred to one afterwards, if ever I recover it. In fine, I am somewhat of the nature of a chameleon, changing colour often by reflection; nay, what is yet more strange, I often change Complexion and Sexes too, being now fair, now fowl, now a Woman, now a Man, though I'm obliged out of Gratitude to love more the Feminine Sex, and can assure your highness on my faith, I am never fairer than when you look on me.   

XLIV. To Madamoiselle de Beauvais, in raillery,  
On his being King on Twelf-ni●ht. Anno 51.  
Madamoiselle,  
PYthagoras (or I imagine) would never have been such an Enemy to Beans, had he received such favours from them as I have done, who by the Suffrage of one am chosen King to night; Think me not now one of those who change their natural Condition, with the condition of Fortune, and wax proud with their honours. No, more I am in capacity of doing good, more good I mean to do; and I promise you on my Royal word▪ my Subjects here shall all● have cause to rejoice whilst I reign over them, my reign shall be nothing but one continued Feast, which they shall celebrate with joyful acclamation, nothing shall be consumed but in the Kitchen; and nothing be exhausted but the Cellar, I will do Grace to all, and no Justice shall be done, but in drinking healths, amongst the rest Madamoiselle, yours shall not be forgot, and think but what Grace I may do you, and account it done.  
Il Rey.  

The Answer. A sa Majeste Flecknotique.  
SA Majesté scaura que je me rejouie Insin●ment de son heureux avenement a sa coronne, et je le cr●is d'autant plus facilement, pour●● que l' on a tousieurs este d' opinion du temps passé, que le ● Royaumes seroient heureux quand les Rois ●eront philosophes ou les philosophes Royes. Pesper e que vostre Regne en sera extremement, et que vostre grandeur n' empeschera pas, qu' elle ne se souviene de mapetittesse.   

The same in English. To his Flecknotique Majesty.  
YOur Majesty may please to know that I rejoice exceedingly for his happy accession to the Crown, which I easily believe will be the more happy, since Antiquity has always been of opinion, that then Kingdoms would be happiest, when Philosophers were Kings, or King's Philosophers; according to this, I esteem your Kingdom very happy, and hope your greatness will not hinder you from remembering one so little as I,  
Your, &c.    

To Madamoiselle de Beauvais, An. 51.  
On his leaving BREEN.  
Madamoiselle,  
I Am looked on here as an engrosser of her highness' favours, which (having no interest) I have no Arts at all to conserve, but only my sincere honouring her; for the rest, I have so little complacency (I profess) as I imagine 'twere too much spending on the main stock, to be complacent to all, and every one thinking they deserve it, imagine they are injured if they have it not: this makes those Enemies, whom I care not to make my friends. Since then those who live in Court, are like those who embark on Sea. The Prince is the Sea, your open Enemies, the Winds, and secret ones, the Rocks and Shelves; yond, who are not only my Cynosura, or polestar by whom I direct my course, but my Pilot, who are also to direct me, knowing better than I the nature of those Seas, will be careful I hope to preserve me from these rocks and shelves, and for greater storms I will take care myself, who am of the nature of your Holland Yauges or Barks of pleasure, which when any storm arise, put to land presently and secure themselves; and just as in those Boats, when the Sea is calm, and the sky fair and serene, you shall hear nothing but laughing and merriment, but when storms arise, and the clouds gather together once●, they are all hushed, and there's an End of their Joviality; so I lose my good humour straight, when I perceive any cloudy countenances, as I imagine I do here now. You'll say perhaps, 'tis but my Imagination. It may be so, however I'll retire a while, so shanned I break with my friends, but avoid breaking with them, it being not my manner, who love not to be treated with Indifference, much less neglect, to importune any with my Company, longer than they may take delight in it: so shall they return to't with appetite again, which else, as meats they are once cloyed with, they always look afterwards on with loathing & nautious●es. Besides, I find it no ways conducing to my health, to remain longer here this Winter, which (as a hole in the wall, is no part of the building) is so deep sunk in a bottom, as it seems no part of the world, there being a hole in Ireland they call Purgatory, and another in the Isle of Lipary they call Hell, but if ever there were any place that deserves the name of both, in my conceit 'tis this. You see how satirical discontent makes a man; and in the humour I am in, will excuse I'm sure my leaving Breen, only with intention, when they and I am am in better humour, to return again; Mean time (Mademoiselle) I beseech you conserve me, not only in your good graces, but also in theirs, to whom I am, and ever shall be as I am to you  
Mademoiselle, Your &c.   

XLVII To the Lady Tenham. An. 54:  
In sending her a Song or Ballad.  
Madam,  
I Send you here a Song made upon this occasion: The other night almost all the Ladies of the Time were in the Garden, with none to wait on them but myself, when if a Handkerchief but fell, I must straight reach it up, and with a couple of reuerences, and kissing my hand, deliver it them again. If a Fan dropped, I was to do the like, and if a Glove were lost, like a good Water Spaniel I must go hunt it out▪ and fetch it them again. In fine 'twas impossible Sir Toby Matthews himself amongst so many Ladies could have been busier than I was, nor more officious; with which notwithstanding I was so wearied at last, as returning to my Chamber I made this following Song, In revenge of those who left me all alone under so great (yet honourable) a burden.  

SONG.  

I  
NOw into what Times  
Are we fallen for our Crimes,  
Or what ever the matter of't may be;  
It does not afford  
So much as a Lord  
To wait upon a Lady:  
But now all alone  
A walking they come,  
With none to wait upon them;  
Your Gallants are grown  
Such tarriers at home,  
A murrain and Shame light on them.   

2  
Is't boldness they lack,  
They are grown so slack,  
Or each turned Woman hater,  
Or money they want,  
Of which store God grant,  
Or what the Devil's the matter;  
But yet we behold  
Them daily more bold,  
And their Lands to Coin they distil ye,  
And then with the Money  
You see how they run ye,  
To lose it at Pickadilly.   

3  
Your Country Squire  
I far more admire,  
(Whose Father that's dead God pardon)  
He knows 'tis the fashion  
To give them Colla●ion,  
Who go to the Park and the Garden;  
Whilst he of the Town  
Is grown such a Clown,  
You wait on them he is unwilling;  
But away he does run,  
When the Ladies do come,  
And all for to save his Ten shilling.   

4  
But Ladies you'll see,  
Be ruled by me,  
And this gear will soon be amended;  
Upon them but frown,  
When you have them at some,  
And all this quarrel is ended;  
Sharp Hawks we are sure  
Will come to the Lure,  
Then of Favours in private but starve them  
And straight you will see  
In public they'll be  
More ready and glad to deserve them.     

XLVIII To Cloris, Anno 54▪  
On her going out of Town.  
SEE fair Cloris how you deal with us, you left us in the Spring to deprive us of Flowers, and you leave us now in Summer to deprive us of the fruit of them; but you know what you do; two Suns at a Time would be too much now in the Town, and therefore to prevent plagues and Calentures, you go out of it; but now our better Sun is gone into the Country, what should we do here; where that we have, only serves to scorch and burn, not to comfort us: It being more safe and comfortable then to follow you into the Country, than longer to remain in Town here; If now we suffer by your absence, we may thank ourselves, and none would pity our complaining of it, when we might enjoy your presence with but only going after you. Expect me then next week with you (fairest Cloris) and if you find not yet in my Heart the Reasons for it; look but in your glass at least, and you'll find it in your Face, the Sun never attracting more flowers, than that does hearts to follow it, and amongst the rest (if not above the rest) that (Aimablest Cloris) of  
Your, &c.   

XLIX  
To the Lord Rich.  
My Lord,  
I Have considered since I saw you last, wha● vain boast 'twas in those who threatened (on I know not what particular picque and quarrel of their own) to deprive me of all my friends; for besides few are so indigent of Enemies now a day, as they need to take them up on others scores; If another can deprive me of them, they are no friends of mine, and to imagine others should be angry with them when they are angry, is as great a folly, as to imagine others should be sick with them when they are sick; besides I should be very greedy of the store, should I not content myself with those for friends, (should they deprive me of all the rest) whom they have for Enemies; but all this proceeds from their not considering the differences between Acquaintances and Friends, which are so hard indeed to distinguish (but on such occasions) as pray tell them when you see them) they shall much pleasure me to do it for me, when with all their blustering they shall do me no more harm by it, than the wind does to the Trees, by blowing off their old withered eaves, ro make place for new flourishing ones; Mean time I assure myself, My Lord, you are none of those who think those that cry loudest have the greatest wrong, when 'tis rather their weakness than any just provocation of mine, unless they take it for an injury and affront, that I'd receive none from them. For me, though I should not be so good a friend, unless I knew how to be as bad an Enemy; yet I profess I had rather contend with them in any quarrel, than in such an one; where 'tis a greater shame to overcome, than to be overcome, so tell them, if you please My Lord, assure yourself from him who knows not to dissemble, nor to be other than  
Your lordship's most &c.   

L. To the Lady—  
Of the Temple of friendship, a tragicomedy he was writing, with the character of the Persons.  
Friendship being our second Religion, and so main a part of our first, I have designed to present it so beautiful to the Eye, as all should be ravished with its Love and Admiration. To this end I have ●personated it in the loveliest sex, and that betwixt persons of the same sex too, for avoiding all suspect; friendship being nothing but Love stripped of suspicion of Harm. For representing it by Ladies, after the like example of the Queen and her Ladies here formerly, & of the greatest Ladies & P●incesses in Spain, France Flanders, and else where, I thought none reasonably could take exceptions, nor think me too ambitious in'●, especially I having been long Time trained up & conversant in the Courts of the greatest Queens and Princesses in Europe, and consequently not altogether ignorant of personating and presenting them according to their dignity and quality.  
First then for Blondinia and Lindiana, I make them vindicating to their Fair Sex, all the nobleness & Generosity as ever was in man, and to their Friendship all the dearness and tenderness as ever was in Love.  
For the two Princesses ●artiana and Philothea, I make them of equal perfection, though of different disposition (like Pamela and Philoclea in the Arcadia) high minded, magnanimous, excelling in all the virtues of great Princes, and not to make them more than Princes, subject too to their noble Vices of Anger, Ambition, etc, To show in fine that they are not virtuous by chance, but by choice and Election, since they may be otherwise.  
For Bellara, she is a person whose divine Conversation would even make you doubt whenever she were human or no. Her wisdom is so great as there is no Labyrinth in this world she would not help you out of, by conecting a third of first and second causes together. She has charge both of the Altar and Oracle, yet is her breast the purest Altar, and mouth the truest Oracle: so as in following her opinion, you are sure of Truth for guide, and in following her Example you are sure of Heaven for friend.  
For Euphemia, so young yet as she is but a Neophi●e, and under Bellaras tuition, she is of so pure a breast, as like white paper she is apted for receiving all the others divine Precepts and Impressions: so as you may well guess at what she will be hereafter, by what the other is at present.  
For compass lastly, and the rest, we may well say of them, that as those who play the fool's part in the Play, are most commonly the wisest men: so those are most commonly the best Actors, who play those Treacherous parts, and though they be not looked on with such gracious Eyes for the persons they represent; yet certainly they are most admired, when they represent them well, as Painters when they paint some ugly Body to the life.  
For the Plot, to give you some light of it, I feign a Commonwealth of Amazon●, and (to render it more probable than t'other) of peaceful ones, sent there in Colony, though for the greater variety distempered into war; In which (Heroina's as they are) you are not to wonder, to see them do Actions of greatest Heroes, and capable of all the Heroical Exploits you admire of men in Story. I having found in your noble Sex a capacity of all the Excellency I ever yet found in man.   

LI. To Lilly  
Dra●ing CLORIS picture.  

STay daring man, and till perchance thou finds,  
Colours so rare, and of such orient worth,  
To paint bright Angels, or Celestial minds,  
Never presume to paint bright Cloris forth.   

Till ●rom all Beauties thou extracts the Grace,  
And from the Sun beams gets the dazzling thread,  
Never presume to draw that Heavenly face,  
Nor those bright radiant Tresses on her head.   

Ve● not thy Art, the while, t' express th'eclate  
That from her Beauty and her Eyes do shine,  
All earthly things thy Art can imitate,  
But Cloris Eyes and Beauty are divine.   

What needs thou then the bootless labour take,  
When none can paint her out to her desert,  
She that's above all Nature e'er did make.  
Much more's above all can be made by Art.   

But yet go on too, since who e'er does see't,  
At least wi●h admiration must confess,  
It has an Air so most divinely sweet,  
'Tis more than others, ●hough than her● much less.   

So they who shoot at Heaven, though they propose  
T'emselves a Butt, to hit they ne'er may hope,  
Level and shoot far higher yet than those,  
who aim but at some Tree, or Houses top.   

Comfort thee then, and think it no disgrace,  
T' have failed where none could hit and know (In fine)  
(Unto thy higher praise) the cause of 't was,  
Her too great excellence, and no want of thine.    

LII. To the Lady Byron.  
On the black hair of a fair Lady.  
RArest of all that nature ever ●nd do,  
Light in the dark, and sunshine in the Shade.  
Tresses so black, and Eyes so fair and bright  
As it a mixture seems of day and night  
Wonder! whence this so strange conjunction  
Of meeting oposits and extreems should come!  
Did Nature fear, when those fair Eyes she made.  
They'd not have shone so bright unless they had;  
Foil of black hair, to set them off, or did  
She with those shadowy Curtains keep them hid  
Left their so radiant and resplendent light,  
Should dazzle our weaker sight, and blind us quite.  
Or to defend us from their scorching rays,  
This needful shelter she invented has;  
As in the torrid Lybian desert, where  
Th' parching Sun shrinks up the Traveller,  
To 's nontide shade, black clouds she does provide.  
Poor fainting wretches from its beams to hide,  
Or cause 'tis controverted which does make,  
the perfects Beauty, or the fair or black,  
Did she together curiously place  
The choice of either's excellence in in her face.  
Or is't the Harmony she's within doth make,  
Her outward form, o'th' Harmony partake;  
Discord in concord so has reconciled,  
She's sweetly rigid, and severely mild.  
She's simply wise, modestly confident,  
Gravely pleasant, and wittily innocent:  
What ever 'tis our wonders all will ●ase,  
When we shall hear 'tis Byron is all this;  
Or rather (Madam) we shall wonder more,  
Hearing you mentioned, than we did before,  
Since all must needs confess, beholding you,  
Your Beauty's Beauty and Admiration too.   

LIII. To Bridget Countess of Desmond.  
In Excuse of his no sooner celebrating her praises.  
Madam,  
YOu being all Admirable as you are,  
No wonder yet I never did declare,  
But in an Aspiration or two,  
The Admiration which I have for you,  
For Silence (Admirations tongue) can best  
Speak that, by words can never be expressed;  
For 'tis not with me, as with one that has  
Some slight and easy subject for his praise;  
For plain and obvious Texts all at first view  
Can understand, but one must study you:  
So th' superficial Beauty of a face  
Each superficial brain knows how to praise,  
And th' shallower bosom every shallow wit  
Can dive into, and sound the depth of it.  
But your fair soul, so deep, and so profound,  
Fews wits have fathom-line enough to sound;  
And for each several Grace one might again  
Number as well the stars as number them;  
Besides, what most perplexes, is to see  
You equally possessed to Excellency  
Of all th' per●ections of your fairer sex,  
And equal, not unequal, does perplex—  
So as whilst others th' subjects penury  
Deters, 'tis th' store only deterreth me,  
When, seeing so much to praise in you, I'm lost,  
Not knowing what in you to praise the most.  
Thus y''ave the Reason of my praising you  
No sooner now, but (silly) what do I do,  
He's a mere Trifler and nothing does,  
In general terms, praises a subject thus,  
And should I to particulars descend,  
'Twere easier to begin than e'er to end.   

●IV.  
To CLORIS.  
CLoris ne'er think that I should whine and cry  
At womens' humours & Inconstancy,  
Or, like the Amorous Knight In the Romance,  
Look pale for't, sound, & fall into a Trance.  
I know you love to change, & would that you  
Should know, that I can change as easily too,  
When sum of all the harm can come of it,  
Is, you leave me, I you, and so w' are quit.  
Mean time yours, & not mine shall be the loss,  
When Cloris forth in all her bravery goes.  
Contending whenever the gaudy Spring or She,  
To eyes end hearts more ravishing should be,  
T' have none with praise usher her forth, & say,  
This is the Spring, t'other but only May,  
This, this is she, so glads these hearts of ours,  
Whilst that glads only Trees and senseless flowers,  
And more to heighten th' glory of the Spring,  
Birds do but chirp, Cloris does only sing.  
Be then my Goddess, as you were before,  
Or ne'er expect such offerings from me more,  
And as propitious as you're wont to be,  
Or you have lost a worshipper of me,  
Who never yet a Reverence did bear  
To Deities, would be only served for fear:  
So your young Novice in Religion,  
if's Goddess frown, thinks he is quite undone,  
And fondly superstitious seeks in vain,  
By Prayers and Tears her favour to obtain,  
Whilst th'old Egyptian Idolater  
His Idol fire to Nilus' bank does bear,  
And' Less he finds it in a better mood,  
Does threaten straight to quench it in the 'slud.   

LV. To the Lady Elizabeth Darcey.  
The Farewell.  
Madam,  
TO my departing Grief 'tis some allay,  
That all my better Thoughts with you do stay  
Whilst only thought of you I bear away.  

So whersoever Absence us confines,  
'T can never separate resolved minds,  
Whom mutual bonds of thought so fast combines   

What need I care then whilst from you I part,  
So long as you are present to my heart,  
whenever Eyes or no ●'th' joy have any part.   

Eyes are dull Instruments, that only hew  
Out forms i'th' mind, with oft repeated view,  
Or being decayed those forms again renew.  
Whence, as 'twere folly in Painters more to stare  
O'th' person, when their Pictures finished are  
So 'twere in me, for Eyes now more to care.   

Howe'er since friendship and Suspicion  
Trade both in the same mind, I've but this one  
Boon (Madam) to crave of ye, and I have done.   

And 'tis t'assure ye, I am none does take  
The last Impression still his Eyes does make,  
But what his heart once has, does ne'er forsake.   

To end then, after this assurance, know,  
That you who are my last thought now I go,  
Shall be when I am gone, my lastingst too.    

LVI. To the Lady Isabel Thinn.  
MAdam, i'th' world's great Liberary, whe●  
I've studied Men far more than Books, and there  
Have learned to know their differences too:  
Some are my classic Authors, such as you,  
From whose fair Lectures I have learned alone,  
What's profitable, and fit ●or to be known.  
Others light Pamphlets, which when once w've read,  
we're straightways cloyed with them and satiated.  
Others mere outside ●hore for Ornaments  
Of studies, than for inside or contense,  
(For Libraries are like th' stationer's stall,  
Defective, if not furnished with all)  
And fin'lly some too hard and Tetrical  
For th' Muses to be conversant withal:  
Having at last perused every one,  
I must conclude of all I've ever known  
Or read, both for contense and outside too.  
The fairest, best, I ever read, is you.   

LVII. The fair Mourner.  
To the Lady HOWARD.  
IN fable weeds now all the Graces mourn,  
Till she to brighter Colours does return,  
And just like sad chameleons appear,  
Taking their dark reflections all from her,  
From her, whose Beauty can't go more nor less,  
For any additionary wear or dress.  
Who gives her Robes, their chiefest ornamesit,  
Whilst others chiefly from their Robes are lent;  
And does herself within herself contain;  
All that's by others sought and, sought in vain;  
Not France does on the Neighbouring world impose,  
(As it had patent for't) its garb and clothes,  
Nor Ladies teach with more becomingness,  
What Habits they should wear, what tire, what dress  
Then she on all that's excellent, sweet, and fair,  
Happy to take examples all from her.  
Mean time was never sweeter sorrow seen,  
Since for her Favourites loss the Idalian Queen,  
Taught loveliness [could only smile before]  
The Gentle Art to weep and to deplore,  
Which she Improving makes her Tears the while  
More precious sweet, than e'er was any's smile,  
Enhancing of their value by't so high,  
'Twould beggar either India to buy;  
Ah Gentle Nymph then shed them not so fast,  
Of precious baum make not such lavish wast;  
One drops enough to satisfy for all  
Misfortunes in this world could e'er befall,  
And then the living make (by odds) the dead  
Happier, for whom those precious Tears are shed,  
Who would, you'd spare them yet, their care is such,  
(Though most concer'nd) lest you should weep too much;  
Happy the whilst are both the joy and care,  
Of all that's dead, of all that living are,   

LVIII. To Misa.  
Angry because she was old.  
NOw what a Devil Misa makes  
Thee with such eyes behold me still.  
Cause from thee time thy good looks takes,  
Must I therefore have thy ill?  

I prithee Misa don't behold  
Me thus, as if I were thy Foe,  
For howsoever thou art old,  
I am not Time that make thee so.   

And rather than to quarrel with me,  
As if I had done thee wrong,  
Go quarrel with thy Age I prithee,  
Whose fault 'tis that thou 'ast lived too long.   

How e'er (for me) thou well mayst spare,  
Thy anger, and thy frowns may cease,  
who for thy good looks little care,  
For thy bad ones care much less▪    

LIX To the same.  
On her striving to appear still fair and young.  
LEt Autumn paint her withered leaves,  
And Winter die his snowy hair,  
Yet he's a fool that not perceives  
Both aged and decayed are.  

So while thou'lt needs look well again,  
And still seem fair unto our sight,  
Misa, thy labours all in vain,  
Like his who'd wash the Aethiop white.   

Nature by Art is better made,  
Whilst Art has ground for what it does,  
But when that Nature's once decayed,  
All Art but more deformed shows.   

Who looked well in King Iames's reign,  
And in King Charl●'s old appeared,  
Will hardly now look young again,  
When th' Commonwealth has got a beard.   

Then Misa follow my advice,  
And leaving off thy bootless care,  
Strive rather to win hearts than eyes,  
And to appear more good than fair.    

LX. To Phillis.  
Reporting he loved her, because he praised her.  
PHillis, how you your Ignorance discover,  
Whilst you mistake a Poet for a Lover,  
Who when he verses writes, makes Love 'tis true,  
But 'tis unto his Muse, and not to you,  
And oftentimes does Mistresses invent,  
To exercise his wit, and compliment;  
Just as I've gallant seen (Disposed to mock)  
Make legs and faces to a courting stock.  
When then I praised you with hyperboles,  
Nought but impossible, excused from lies,  
Planting the Rose and lilies in your cheeks,  
(Where one more truly might have planted Leeks,)  
And talked of your divinity of mind,  
(When I human'ty ●here could scarcely ●ind)  
And much more when ● flattering ye did bring  
Sweets from Arabia, Flowers from the Spring,  
From Beauty all was excellent and fair,  
And from the Graces all was choice and rare.  
Were you so simple, to believe that I,  
Could e'er commit to gross Idolatry?  
Or that I had so little sense and wit,  
To mean all this by you? or you by it?  
Pray be more wise hereafter, left you make  
Me blush (not for mine own) but for your sake,  
And understand against another Time,  
there's no small difference twixt Prose & rhyme,  
While th'ne for what you are commendeth ye,  
Tother for what indeed you ought to be,  
Your poet's end being only to make men  
Better than they're by their commending them;  
Make you like use of't then, and so I may  
Perhaps admire ye, as you think and say;  
Mean time all (Phillis) I admire in you,  
Is (saying I admired ye) you could think it true.   

LXI. To the Vice Roy of Norway, Anno 55.  
Insending him some Verses which he desired.  
My Lord,  
BEhold your desire has a greater force with me, than any others commands could have, I obeying it even when I was not in estate of obedience, being in the heat of a fever, and consequently unapt either to write or compose any thing. If your Lordship find any heat then in these Lines, I will not say 'tis of the fever, nor that of Poetry; but of the desire I have to serve you: and if you like it not, you will think it worth burning at least: so shall it but die a natural death, and but return to its first being, being begot in flames. I will detain your Lordship no longer from reading it, being able to write no more, but only that I am  
Your lordship's most, &c.  

On his choosing Valentines.  
HOw great a Freedom he enjoys  
Who loves not without Counterpoise,  
Since be th' attraction what it will,  
He stands upon firm basis still:  
So t'other day my chance it was,  
Choosing Valentines in a place,  
T' have one draw me, and I an other,  
Who so counterballanced tother,  
Neither's Captive I was made,  
Both such equal Beauty had,  
Either's Captive else had been,  
Had I both asunder seen,  
So true 'tis when two such as those,  
We to our equal choice propose,  
We should die e'er we could choose  
Which to take, or which refuse.  
No danger's then of either's harms,  
Whilst th'one undoes the others charms:  
But when these Circe's are alone,  
Then all the loving harm is done;  
So she who made Alcides spin,  
His Club laid by, and lion's skin,  
Should soon have seen with what disdain  
He would have snatched them up again,  
And thrown his servile work aside,  
Soon as some Dame he had espied  
I'th' room with Omphale appear,  
At all parts equalizing her;  
So great a freedom he enjoys,  
Who loves not without counterpoise,  
Since be th'attraction what it will,  
He stands upon firm basis still.    

LXII. To the Countess of Desmond.  
On the Death of the Lady Theophyla Carey, Daughter to Henry Earl of Monmouth, Anno 55.  
Madam,  
I Saw so many Graces and Perfect●ons in the Lady Theophyla Carey (for she was all transparent, and her very Soul did shine through her Body) as I must wish (with her noble family, and the rest of her Honourers and Admirers) that either I had never known her, or that we had never been deprived of her. But being fair as an Angel, having an angel's mind, and singing too Angelically as she did, we might well imagine her one of those Celestial Quires, and cease wondering, being all Angel as she was, that we had only a glimpse of her on Earth, and that she should straight vanish like some Heavenly Apparition into Heaven; It dealing so ordinarily with us in this manner, to show us such as she only, and straight to snatch them away again, as I begin to suspect 'tis but a bait to make us desire to follow them, knowing us so Earthly minded, as there's no other way to entice us unto Heaven. For my part, (at least) upon her death I've left the Town (so much I am displeased with it, could no better conserve the choicest Rarity it had) and that after Times might know what a loss they had in her, as well as the present, have made this Epitaph on her before I went into the Country.  
REader, if th' art courteous stay,  
And understand before thou go,  
Here lies th' admired Theophila;  
More of her if thou wilt know,  
For beauteous features, lovely Grace,  
For candid breast, and purest mind;  
She Glory was of Careys race,  
And excellentest of Woman kind.   

LXIII. To Mr. Thomas Higgins  
With his Ode in praise of the Country life.  
Noble Sir,  
IF those on whose soil the Tree grows have most right to the fruit, none has more right than yourself to this following Ode in praise of the Country life, since 'twas made at Grewel with you in the Country. After which I know not what excuse to allege for my living in the Town, but that self-accusing one of Phedra, Video meliora, p●j rasequor, or this, that when I would live to my friends and self, I go into the Country, when to others, I go to Town; However, I being of that Amphibean Gender, with those who are now in one, now in t'other, do receive this benefit (at least) by it, that the one but begets an appetite to t'other; all pleasures in this life consisting in a certain change, and vicissitude, which indeed is but a pause and respite of pain, or relaxation from misery (none taking pleasure in rest, but the weary, nor in eating but the hungry, &c.) which you'll easily perceive, when continue them but too long, and you make a pain of that pleasure, and begin to long for the pleasure of the pain you had before; such is our human infirmity, as like sick men in their beds, we lie tossing and tumbling up and down, and restlessly change place, only to find rest, which we can never find, because we carry unrest along with us, quod è re nascitur vix evitatur; the purest company which I find without lassitude is the company and conversation of a friend, which is the more pure the more spiritual they are; and that, Sir, I never enjoy in greater perfection, than when I am with your company.  

ODE In praise of the Country life.  

O happiness of Country life,  
Which ●own nor Palace ne'er could boast,  
Where men are even with Gods at strife  
Whose happiness should be the most.   

Whilst innocently all live there,  
Lords of themselves, as well as Land,  
Out of the Road of Hopes and Fear,  
And out of fortune's proud command.   

Where to deprive men of their own,  
Is crime which yet they never saw,  
Nor more injustice e'er was known  
Than not to give Beasts hunted, Law.   

Where but for fish there's none lays baits,  
Nor traps, but for some ravenous Beast,  
And but for Foul there's no deceits,  
So harmless theyare in all the rest.   

Where of false dealings none's afraid,  
And soothing flattery none allows,  
But only in the Dairy Maid,  
Who whilst she milks them, strokes her Cows.   

Where only in Sheep-sheering Time  
The Rich the Poor do seem to Fleece,  
And of oppression all their crime  
Is only whilst they make their Cheese.   

Then for the pleasant, do but think,  
Th'vast difference there is twixt both,  
Whilst men in Towns live in a sink,  
A life, even very beasts would loathe.   

Where nothing on the Earth does grow,  
To speak the seasons; but (in sum,)  
By Dirt they only Winter know,  
And only dust shows Summers come.   

Then for serenating the mind,  
Without which no contentment is,  
Where in loud Cities shall you find  
A recollection like to this?   

Where on some Object whilst X stay,  
And hidden cause of it would find,  
No noise does fright my thoughts away,  
Nor sudden sight distract my mind.   

Or if that any noise there be,  
'tis such as makes me not af●ard,  
Of Waters fall, Birds Melody,  
O'th' bleating flock, or lowing heard.   

Mean time how highly are they blessed,  
Whose conversations all with them,  
Who only but for th' name of Beast,  
Are (in effect) less beasts than Men.   

For no ambition makes them fight,  
Nor unto mutual slaughter run,  
Invading one another's right,  
Till th'one or both be quite undone.   

None others' acts calumniate,  
Nor misinterpret every word;  
For others lives none lies in wait,  
Nor kills with poison, nor with sword.   

Then to conclude the Country life,  
Has happiness Towns could never boast,  
Where men are even with Gods at strife,  
Whose happiness should be the most,   

And since life somewhere must be spent,  
Give me but Amorets Company,  
Without which life has no content,  
And here I could both live and die.     

LXIV A condoling Epistle To the Duchess of Richmond. Anno. 55.  
O● the dea●h of my Lord Duke her H●●band.  
Madam,  
Amid the greatest discomfort I ever had, This comfort my Lady Kingsmel gave me at my arrival to Town, that a more becoming sorrow, nor more natural than that of your Graces, as yet she never saw, which made me (Madam) instead of condoling (in some sort) congratulate with your Grace, that as y'av formerly performed all the parts of a most illustrious wife, so now you do of a most ex●mplar widow, one of which is not to mourn ambitiously as others do, and with such a studied sorrow, as if they courted new Husbands in mourning for the old, but with such a Grief, as shows them rather dying than living, since those are dead whom they most loved alive. Mean Time (Madam) since virtue always consists in the mean, and all extr●mities are vicious, Give me leave (I beseech your Grace) only to put you in mind that you grieve not too much (like those who are over anxious to grieve enough) but imagine (amongst your other imaginations of the dead) that you hear your noble Lord and Husband expostulating with you thus; Why (dearest heart) having left thee three main businesses to do, to have care of my Children, to have care of my estate, and to bewail me dead, why wouldst thou frustrate and irritate my will in all these three, by making my Children complete Orphans by thy death? by ruining my estate if thou diest? and lamenting me so dead, as 'twould kill me a second time were I alive? Modera● thy sorrow then, and k●ll me not wholly by't, who am not wholly dead, as long as thou'rt alive, but live, as (if 'twere in thy power) thou'dst have me live again, so shall thou comfort me by comforting thyself, so shall I more perceive thy love, than if thou died'st for me.  
Those (Madam) I beseech your Grace to believe are rather his words than mine, after which I'● say no more but only weep, whilst I write this following Elegy, and subscribe my myself (as really I was, and shall ever be) his and  
Your Graces most &c.   

On the death of the Lord Duke of Richmond and Lenox:  
Elegy.  

AS when some mighty blow is given,  
By which our Walls & Towers are shook,  
Some all aghast look up to Heaven,  
Some wildly on each other look.   

Nay sometimes too (w'are made of such  
Frail brittle stuff) it may so fall,  
The violence of't may be so much,  
To shatter in pieces life and all.   

So, at Report that Richmond's dead,  
Whilst some astonished stand at Gaze,  
Some towards Heaven lift up their head,  
In witness of their sad amaze.   

We whom the blow does strike more near  
At the report even dead do fall,  
Whilst sad and doleful news we hear,  
Of such a Death that kills us all.   

How would that Tyrant (then) be glad,  
To Mankind was so great a Foe,  
He wished that all but one neck had,  
To take them all off at a blow?   

When he sh●'d see, now Lenox' Gone,  
How dead and sprightless each one is,  
As if to kill us all in one,  
Did need no other Death but his.   

Mean time soft rest I'th' sacred urn,  
Unto his Noble Ashes be,  
Where lies entombed, not to return,  
All virtue, all Nobility.   

Until the Heir h'as left behind,  
In whom his House's hopes remain,  
True Offspring of the Phoenix kind,  
Revive them from his dust again.   

Then shall his Mother tears refrain,  
Then shall she cease to sigh and moan,  
Seeing her Husband live again,  
With all his Glories in her Son.    

LXV. A Consolatory Epistle, To the Queen Mother of France, Mary of Medici's; written about the year, 41.  
Omi●ted in its place, and inserted here.  
Madam,  
YOur Majesty knows (whose chief study these many years has been Divinity) how our B. Saviour in one place of Holy Writ, says, Without him we can do nothing; and the Apostle in another, That he could do all things in him who comforted him: which two passages conferred together, (as two contrary Medicaments in mixture) are a sovereign cure for those two extreme maladies of our soul, a too great Presumption, and too great diffidence of ourselves. For who will ever despair hereafter, when he considers the second saying? Or, who will presume too much of himself, who considers ●ut the first? In consideration of which, a ●ertain Holy man was wont to say, God, and I can do all things; and if it seem too great a presumption in him, to name himself with God, certainly a greater presumption 'tis for any to name themselves without him. This receipt (Madam) your Majesty has got, and this consideration 'tis, that makes you bear all your Afflictions with so great patience, as Job will no more be mentioned for it, when your Majesty is named, nor David for mansuetude and forgiveness of his Enemies; I having heard (with Admiration of your majesty's virtue) whilst one inveighing against your Enemies, your Majesty interrupted them, with entreating them to desist, and affirming that they were persons you daily and nightly prayed for. Oh generous and noble example of Christian Patience and Charity! worthy perpetual Remembrance, which (Madam) I set before your majesty's eyes, knowing that nothing comforts more for the present, than the recordation of our good Deeds past, as nothing incourages us more, to those that are to come. And this I desire to set before the eyes of all the world, that the joint concurrency of the greatness of the person and example might nor move them to Imitation. Be pleased to go on then (Madam) in being a pattern, as you a●e, not only to these, but also to future Times, ●f longanimity, Patience, and Sufferance, G●● ever from time to time renewing in his ●hurc● such examples as these, that beholding them near at hand, we might believe them possible, which else beheld a far off, might be imagined Fabulous, and but the illusions of Fancy and Imagination: so shall you receive (Madam) of our B. Saviour, who has said he is the way, the truth, and the life, for your following his way, and his Example, Truth for your Guide, and Eternal life for your reward; which is the wish M●dam, of  
Your Majesti●● most, &c.  
FINIS.