CHOICE, CHANCE, AND CHANGE: OR, Conceits in their Colours.  
Imprinted at London for Nathaniel Fosbrooke, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard at the sign of the Helmet. 1606.   

TO THE READER.  
IF your choice chance to be good, change it not, if your conceit chance to choose amiss, allow it not: If it carry a good colour, and the cloth be nought, esteem it not: but if it be good and you conceit it not, change your humour, but keep your choice: In brief, here are conceits of diverse colours, some in grain and none but will bide the weather: but if you be in love, here is a lesson for your learning, where you may find passion put to her patience, wit to his whirligig, the fool to his part, and the better conceit to his best corner: many wild Geese fly in their own feathers, and a tame duck is a pretty fowl: In some, there is nothing so good but may be mended, nor so ill but may be well taken: kind fellows and honest wenches I know will not be angry, and if any man be out of his wits, God send him well into them again: and so hoping that good conceits, will choose the best and leave the worst, I will change kind thanks for kind acceptance, and so rest, as I find cause.  
Insert these words into the beginning of the eight leaf before the end of the Book: I could be glad of your fau. etc.   

A Dialogue, after a friendly greeting, upon a sudden meeting, between Arnofilo and Tidero: as they travailed upon the way, betwixt Mount jerkin, and the great City at the foot of the wood, in the long valley.  Ar. 
TIDERO, Well met, of all the men in the world, I would never have thought to have seen you in these parts: why? how many thousand years since I saw you last.  Tidero: 
Not many thousand: what? am I become a spirit that you wonder at me? this is as good as a good year on you: how long have you been away, and how have you done since yesternight: is a year or two such a time of absence, as if one should come out of his grave to maze the world with miracles? I must confess I have been abroad, and have seen more than I have eaten, and drunk more than hath done me good: but what of that? all is well that ends well: and therefore hoping that you will leave your wondering, in honest kindness tell me how you do? and have done ever since I saw you?  Ar. 
Sometime well, and sometime so so: meat whole, but:  Tid. 
But, where is now the old shrug at that wicked but? an old mezill will have a miser's trick: if you had been where I have been, and endured that I have done, you would leave your shrinking of your shoulder, at the burden of ease.  Ar. 
Why, but tell me, hast thou been a travailer?  Tid. 
I have walked a little over the great water, some ten thousand of miles, and yet have found the way home again.  Ar. 
And for aught I see, thou art welcome home, and no doubt but many of thy friends will be glad to see thee: for myself, I am glad even with all my heart, to see thee so well.  Tid. 
You are glad of your eyesight, and so I think are many more, that after the common fashion carry the name of friends, but:  Ar. 
Tush I pray thee, leave thy But: I doubt thou hast met with some unkind kindred, feigned friend, hollow companion, cogging Rascal, or dogged pesaunte, that hath given you a dry salutation, bidden you to a hungry breakfast, that you are not in full true charity with all the world: But put away melancholy, let the Devil go hang himself, one honest man is worth a hundred beggars: and for my poor state, thou knowest it: and such as it is, take part with it: go home with me, and stay till I bid thee go. I protest I shall be glad of thee: and for my little wealth, I had rather spend it on such a companion, then leave it to a sight of Churls: for thou knowest I have no store of Heirs, and therefore I pray thee, be let us be merry, and let us live together.  Tid. 
Why how now? do you take me for a woman, that you come upon me with a ballad, of Come live with me and be my Love; well, loss of time is but ventured ware, and the gain of repentance, but the grief of understanding; but, I will hope the best, that I have now found a man, whose breath is not poisoned.  Ar. 
Poisoned man, God forbid; but say, where with all dost thou mean?  Tid. 
With deceit, lying, dissembling, in effect all one kind of poison; which in these days is as common among men, as painting among women.  Ar. 
Fie upon it, talk not of it, for my wife she I am sure useth not the one, and for myself God bless me from the other: But leave tricks to trickers, and tell me I pray thee in a word, what hast thou seen in thy travail?  Tid. 
In a word, variety: I can not in one word better express the sum of all: for indeed I have seen much, & much variety in that I have seen.  Ar. 
As how I pray thee?  Tid. 
I have seen the great water called the Sea, to which compared, the greatest River is but a little Channel, and the greatest flood, except that which was in the time of Noah, is but as a dish of water: the taste of which water is salt: and in this water live a whole world of strange fishes; of which I have seen some very great, some not so great, and some far less: but, as upon the Land, so in the Sea, I saw the great eat up the little: a Whale would hunt a whole skull of Herring, and swallow down a number of them: The Porpoise would hunt the Salmon and the Shad, the Seal would feed upon the Whiting, but the Whale would take order with a world of small fishes: and so you see upon the land, among the fowls of the air: the Eagle upon the Pheasant or the Poulte: the Falcon upon the Mallard, or the Partridge, the Hobby upon the Lark, and so still the great feed upon the small ones: so in beasts the Wolf upon the sheep, the dog upon the hare, the Fox upon the Lamb, the greater ever makes his prey upon the less: and yet as in birds and beasts, so in fishes have I observed, that the sword fish, and the Dolphin will be the death of a Whale: a little jack of a Marlin, will be on the neck of a Partridge, and a little dog will put down a great Bear.  Ar. 
Yea, but they can never do it, but when they have them at advantage.  Tid. 
That is understood, but they do so: how ever they catch them at it.  Ar. 
Yea they do indeed, but how they do it, that would be known.  Tid. 
It is not for me to look after, for I will neither fly into the Air to ask the birds, nor dive into the sea, to ask the fishes: nor be a beast on the land, to learn a note of their nature; and yet there comes much good by them.  Ar. 
As how I pray thee?  Tid. 
Why when a Whale is wounded, he will run to the shore, and then the fishermen make much money of his oil, when a Marlin killeth a Partridge, the falconer fares the better, and when the dog pulls down the Bear, it makes sport for the master of the game.  Ar. 
Thou sayst true, but let them alone with their sports, & tell me what else sawest thou at the sea?  Tid. 
I saw how wooden horses went with the wind, which carried men and Merchandise, over the water from one land to another: but sometimes, with a sudden tempest man & horse overthrown upon a Rock, and the goods all float or drowned, sometime man, horse and ware through a leak, sink all into the sea: sometime swallowed in a sand, and sometime upon a sudden one fall upon another, and by fire and sword, one or both fall to destruction: these horses were called Ships, Pinnaces, Hoys and such like: and let me tell you, as David the Prophet said: he that passeth the deep seeth the wonders of the Lord: for if I should tell thee what dangers I have escaped both by sea and land, thou wouldest say, I were bound to praise God.  Ar. 
Thou sayst well, I have heard so much of the dangers of the sea, that I care not, if I keep one foot of Land: but I pray thee tell me a little further of thy travail.  Tid. 
I will tell you, at sea I saw none of those toys that I have heard fools talk of, as Mermaids and sirens, for they are in deed but fictions: but I saw in a clear day, a great depth under one ship upon a calm, in a still water, the tops of steeples and old stone walls, which the Sea had swallowed by some great breach over the banks of that country: and as I heard afterward in my travail, in the drowning of those towns there perished a world of people, and no small mass of wealth.  Arnofilo. 
A pitiful Spectacle, and yet we see, when wealth breedeth pride, GOD will send us a sore plague: but I pray thee proceed, and tell me of thy further Travail.  Tid. 
I will: when I first arrived on shore with some other of the Ship, wherein I made my passage, I beheld the Soil, which was as this is, replenished with grass, herbs, flowers, and trees, and so forth: and for the Fowls they did fly, the Beasts did feed, and men and women did walk and talk as we do: only they did vary in their attire, and in their language from us: the poor did for the most part drink water, and the rich wine; the poor fed most upon herbs, roots, course bread, and little flesh: the rich upon such Cates as the country will yield: their cities were fair to the eye, but slight for the substance, their wealth great, but in few men's hands, their laws strict, and well observed; the Men, neither Pigmeys nor monsters; their women some fair, some foul: but one thing I noted chiefly in the country, that in every house the inhabitants had a private law in their own houses, and one neighbour with an other, besides the common laws of the country.  Arnofilo. 
For those, in that they may be tedious to thee to recite, I will defer them till another time: but, I pray thee tell me something of the private laws among them.  Tid. 
Betwixt neighbours it was one Law, that every man should pay his own house rend, and not to trust unto his neighbour. Another Law, that every man should provide for his own household all things necessary, and not to borrow of his neighbour: another Law, that no man should owe his neihbour any thing but compliments: an other was that no man should be bold with his neighbour's wife, further than she would let him, howsoever the common Law would direct him. No man should slander his neighbour's wife, for fear of hurting him, and doing her no good: No man should tell tales, though true, betwixt party and party, that might move strife, for breaking of peace: No man should deny a kindness promised unto his neighbour, or his wife, lest he should grow angry, and she take thought: No man might make horns at his neighbour, though he knew him to be a cuckold, for fear of breeding of bate betwixt a Man and his wife: these with many other private Laws, were very straightly and carefully observed, betwixt neighbour and neighbour: beside, there is one other that I had forgotten, and that is this, that no man might father his neighbour's child, how soever he had talked with the mother of it, for fear to breed the Father's unkindness, and the Mother's undoing.  Ar. 
Pretty Laws, and well noted; I see there was some good fellowship among them, and that they had a care of their business: it was well, for without these laws, knaves and fools might have done much hurt: what was the punishment to be laid upon the offenders in any of these items, or private Laws?  Tid. 
No open matter of shame, but among themselves he that did offend, according to the nature of his offence was censured▪ if he wanted wealth, held a poor man, if he wanted wit, a fool: if honesty, a knave, if kindness, a dog: and so though suffered to be a dweller, yet not esteemed as a neighbour.  Ar: 
Truly good, so it should be, as the world goes: neighbours should be kind one to another, or else there were no neighbourhood: but tell me I pray thee a little of the private laws in each house.  Tid. 
If a man were married to a scold, let her work for her living, and pray for patience:  
If a woman were married to a fool, let him walk to wind yarn, or pick nuts.  
If a man had a whore to his wife, to think of his own case, and so: to conceal his sorrow, or to be rid of his mischief:  
If a woman be married to an Eunuch, to do something to save his shame from knowledge.  
No man must go to market without money, nor to dinner without meat.  
No man must go to bed till he be sleepy, nor rise till he be awake.  
No man must look for money till he have earned it, nor pay money till he have it.  
Many other such laws, or Items there are agreed upon, among them, which were but tedious to recite: some of which, I have forgotten, but these I can well remember.  Ar. 
Pretty noted, I thank thee for them with all my heart: but what punishment is there appointed for the offenders, in any of these agreements;  Tid. 
I will tell you, he that will live with a scold must be laughed at for his labour:  
She that is wife to a fool, lives in suspicion of God forbid:  
He that will live with a whore must wear a great cap:  
She that is married to an Eunuch must go to physic for the green sickness:  
He that goes to market without money must come home without meat:  
He that dines without meat, must feed upon fasting:  
He that goes to bed till he be sleepy, must lie & tumble till he be weary: and he that riseth ere he be wake must be held for a mad man.  
He that looks for money he knows not why, must have it he knows not when, and he that will pay it ere he have it, must be wondered at of all the world:  Ar. 
Gramercy good wag, for thy good notes, pretty laws, and pretty punishments, if tt were worse, it would not be so well: for Scolds and whores, and fools and cuckolds would be cut of order for pride, if they were not taken down with some trick: And to tell a truth, it is requisite that a man should not be so lazy as to go to bed, ere he be sleepy, nor so mad as to rise in a dream: so foolish to go to market without money, or so peevish, as to dine without meat, or so childish, as for to look for money without desert, and to pay it before he have it, why it is a thing impossible: and therefore the Agreements are good, I like them well: pity but they should be kept: But I pray thee, tell me a little further of thy travel, in that country or any other:  Tid. 
I will tell you: for the great men, I durst not look too greatly at them: for fear their greatness would have too great an eye at my looking; only I saw, they were well proportioned, strong limmed, manlike faces, wore good clothes, rode on fat horses, pinched not their own bellies, nor were not afraid of a cup of wine, kept their countries in peace, and lived in a league of great love: this was all that I there noted, among the great ones: and for the name of the Country, as I heard; it was called, Terra strove.  Ar. 
I find it not in the map by that name, but 'tis no matter, on with thy discourse.  Tid. 
For the meaner sort of people, yet not the basest, for those are alikeevery where: Rogues will beg, beggars will not be bashful, fools will cry, and dogs will bark, and therefore let them pass; but, for the better sort, I found them good fellows, of what condition soever: Male, or female, Learned, or unlearned, there would none be out, for his hand in a health, howsoever they had fared: the Scholar would dispute upon none but the full point, and the unlearned by Experience had a carouse, at the highest: Civil carriage and fair conditioned, drink, and spend and pay, like right lads and not quarrel, till the cup had made a conquest of all the company; & then ipse he qui the which leapt over the hedge, and fell in the ditch, A, B, C, non habet P: how rousts the hen when the cock is a sleep: 'tis twelve a clock, and god give you good night:  Ar. 
But is it possible, was there such good good fellowship? much good do their hearts, and yet 'tis pity there was not more dancing and less drink: for then their heels might have held up their heads, and their ways might have been fit for a better work: but so long, as they went all one way, I like the better of their travel.  Tid. 
Oh sir: a little nap makes them as fresh as if they had never been salted: and dance and sing, and if need be a better thing: tush they are a gallant people, the men were good musicans, and there wenches would sing excellently: but for that I had no long time to tarry there, I could not observe much more than I have told you: and therefore if the time will give us leave, I will tell you what I saw in an other country, which I next fell upon.  Ar. 
I pray thee do, thou canst not please me better.  Tid. 
I will tell you: crossing but a little river, and it was over a short narrow stone bridge, I fell into a Country that had another name, which might well be: for in many things me thought it differed in nature.  Ar. 
As how? I pray thee tell me.  Tid. 
First for the soil it was more full of sand, and Dust, and not so fair and fat, as the neighbour country, yet had it no lack of wood, nor Corn nor fruit: For the country people, I mean the meanest sort fed much of garden commodities; which with help of a little oil, and scarce sweet butter, made them dishes of meat fit for their stomachs: and their drink was moste either upon plain water of the brook, or upon Apple water, otherwise called Cider which which was in a manner their wine: their villages large and their houses strong, though nothing stately: the people most plain without welt or guard, or almost wit or understanding, more than to know their own, the way to the Church and the field, and the Taphouse if there were any in the Town, the way to the Market and home again; to plough, and plant, and sow, and reap, to thrash and grind, to make hard bread and eat it with strong teeth, to make Love illfavouredly and to get children to furnish the parish: these were the main points of their conditions: for to talk of more than a Codshead, would trouble a fisherman, the shepherd more than of a sheepshead, nor the ploughman further than his tillage▪ nor the Butcher more than his Bullock: for if you did go any further, you did but trouble their capacities: but for those matters you should hear them talk so savourly, that if you did want wit to consider how soon those small Cunnings would be learned, you would have been buried in a dungheape, ere you could get out of the clean: oh how the fisherman would discourse of his angle, his line, his cork, his lead, his bait, his net, his grin, his leap, his were, and I know not what; his observing of time day and night, his patience to attend, his craft in drawing his bait along the stream, his dressing of his bait to draw the fish to it, his playing with the fish when he had him, his hoisting of him out of the water, and then what a mess or meat he could make of him, although perhaps it proved all but a Gudgeon: but if it were a Codshead, his lips would be worth the licking, and in this was his Element, here was his study, and in these matters of little moment, would he spen d the whole spirit of his understanding. With whom, although it were no great hurt, for to lose a little time, yet it was some pleasure for to hear him, and beside to note his kind of pride in his poor trade.  
The Shepherd he would so talk of his Rams and his Wethers, of his Ewes and his Lambs, his hogs and his sheerlings: the big h●●ne, and the fine wool, the deep side, and the broad joins: the nature of their breed, and of their feed, their washing, their shearing, their marking, their folding, their diseases and their medicines: the Fly and the Scab, and how to trim them, and pick them, and dress them, and then with a sigh to talk of the Rot, and what a heavy thing it is among them: to be short, if you had time to attend the end of his discourse, there is no Herald in searching out and delivering of a coat of a very great Antiquity, could weary you more than he would your patience, with a tale of the Pedigree of some of his choice cattle: for such a Ram was of such an Ewe, that was bred in such a ground, of such a Man's, that had so many Rams from such a ground, and he that was the Master of such a ground brought some twenty Rams from such a Country, and withal the owner of those Sheep had them out of such a Shire, of the best strain that was in all that Country, and they in that Country: came I know not from whence, but and if I would hauè stayed for to have heard him out, I think that he would never have left, till he had come to jacob, or Laban, or Abel the first shepherd that ever was, to come to the Strain of his Sheep: but, I left at a point enough for my learning: for I gathered out of all in brief, how soon he that had money might learn to gain by sheep, though he would not lap himself in a sheep's skin: but, if you should take him out of his element; then he was gone, and you did his capacity much hurt: for, there was the sum of his world's paradise: of which he would speak with such a feeling contentment, th●● it were pity such a spirit should be drawn from his pleasure: but, to be short by the sum of his speech I gathered in brief, with money how to make a good shepherd in a little time: on a hard ground breed small sheep; on a fat ground bigger boned: put not the Rams to the Ewes too soon, for fear the Lamb be to forward: look to them for the Scab, and the fly, lest I lose my sheep, or my sheep lose her fleece: give them dry layer, for fear of the rot; and in lambing time, to take heed of the Fox, the wolf the Brock, and other vermin: to wash them in fair weather, not to shear them till they be dry, and take heed of clipping of their skins, for fear of the fly: to put them in good pasture, and have an eye to them for fear of the these: many other such kind of matters belong to the care of such a course: but, because I rather desired the knowledge, than the profession of it, I left him to his flock, which God bless to his holy pleasure, and so an end. Then fell I in with the ploughman, who told me such a tale of the nature of the earth, of the choice of his seed, of his first and second tilth, of his manuring, ploughing, sowing, harrowing, reaping, binding, carting, pitching, mowing, threshing, winowing, and fanning: and so putting up into the Garner for store, or into the sacks for the mill, or the market, with hay Ree, & Who to his horse; and hum and hah to me with such a garlic breath, as would have poisoned a dog: I learned enough in a little time, to serve me for a great while, for though I love to know any thing, yet God bless my brains, for my limbs are not not now fit for labour: Age and travail, hath given them too great a weakness, besides the nature of my spirit, that though it hath carried my body on the earth yet, hath it ever looked above the earth, for my comfort.  Ar: 
I thank thee for that yet, with all my heart: and I am not a little glad to hear it: that all the world cannot make thee to forget heaven: for it is no little happiness to see much, & know much, and make good use of all: For, cannot a a man be a fisher, but he must gape like a cod's head? nor be master of a few sheep, but he must live and die in a sheeps coat? or have a barn full of corn, but he must be bound prentice to his flail? the miller & his mare may do well both to carry sacks, but the Master of them both should not put his wits into a bag: believe me, it is not a little grief to think how men beefoole themselves, or the devil bewitches men with folly: why, is it not a misery to think, how the breath of one villain, poisons the hearts of an hundred: When he that travails a good subject, comes home again a traitor, serves god at home, and the devil abroad, goes fourth to gain honour, and comes home to be hanged? are not these pitiful illusions? well, ha●py art thou that hast been infected with none of these diseases: but tell me I pray thee, what didst thou further note in the courts, and cities of that country and other, where thou hast been.  Tid. 
I will: the cities in that country were large, & well builded, for strength more than beauty, for they were most of stone, and covered with a kind of slate, but many of their towns were decayed, their castles, and chief houses, ruinated, as it should seem, either by some civil wars, or some uncivil Enemy: for the governors, they were men of further matter for their wit, than their aspects, did make promise of: and yet they would knit the brows, look under the Eyes, struck down their beards, nod with their heads, shake up poor men; whip Rogues, Rate Beggars, emprison offenders, hang up thieves and in all they could, seek to maintain peace: that was one thing I chiefly noted in their Cities: but for their courts I stayed so little a while in them, that I cannot justly say any thing in their commendation; and yet in the contrary I would say as little, for fear I should wrong them: But in their towns, and cities, I saw many things and many pretty laws, and customs among them, which in mine opinion were not unworthy the noting: The first law was, that no man should marry a fair wench without money, except he were rich: for fear of the horn for want of maintenance:  
Item that no old woman that had wealth and children should marry a young beggar, for fear of wasting her childies' goods, and putting herself to her patience:  
No man aged should marry a wench too young, for fear of the curse of contrarietyes.  
No man should be a stranget to his own house, for fear his wife would procue a gossip.  
No woman should be master of her husband, for fear of the next neighbours riding.  
No man should bring his horse into a stable, but he should pay for his meat ere he came out.  
No man should take more than he had warrant for, lest he should answer it at the gallows.  
No vintner should mingle water with his wine, except he were allowed it by his Company.  
No Tailor should put more stuff in a garment, than was allowed him for his measure.  
No shoemaker should make his shoes to strong, for fear they hold to long.  
No Tradesman should sell his ware too good cheap, for fear of hindrance to his Trade.  
No jester should be favoured of the wise, for fear of being more knave than fool.  
No Constable should be suffered to be drunk, for fear the watchmen should fall asleep.  
No Fool should inherit too much land, for fear a knave should to soon alter the property.  
He that could get no children should not marry: and she that could not abide a man, should be set to keep chickens.  
No man might have two wives, for fear of breeding unquietness.  
No woman might have two husbands, for fear she should be in love with neither.  
Many other such idle things there were agreed upon among them; which for tediousness I let pass: for being no matters of great moment, it is no great matter for their remembrance, only thus much I remember, that no man should be found drunk in a house, but he should be laid in the street till he were sober▪  Ar. 
Pretty items, and good reason for the keeping of them: for as I said before, lack of care among mad people, may be the spoil of a whole market; it is not meet that men should be persuaded, that the moon is made of a green cheese; it is a principle in Philosophy: Contraries can not be together: age and youth can not be in one predicament: january and May never meet together, but, if age long to be in his grave, youth will be a good staff to lead him to it but I mean the crooked cripples, that are not able to look up so high as the eye of Venus, with a golden shower will think to come in at the window of her chamber: and therefore such an absurdum should not pass in the school of Cupid: though that sometime, for breeding an old Stalian, may be better than a young Colt.  
Secondly, he that is a stranger to his wife, is worthy to find her a straggler: and she that is master of her husband, must wear the breeches.  
Again, hay is dear, provender is costly, and horse meat must be paid for, and therefore let travailers look to their purses.  
And for thieves, when they are hanged, honest men thrive the better.  
For Vintners, Tailors, Shoemakers, and all Tradesmen, pity but they should live by their trades.  
And for a drunken Constable, why he may be the spoil of a watch; but for fools and jesters the world is prettly well rid of them, and therefore I say no more to them. But I pray thee go on with thy travail, and tell me somewhat else that thou hast seen and noted.  Tid. 
I saw something that it grieved me to see, and no less to remember.  
I saw in a City or borough town, I know not well whether a pitiful sight, An old old, and very very very aged old man, with a most exceeding ill-favoured and ugly face, and a much far and a great deal worse body, whose legs were worse than wood, for they would have stood upright, which his could not; with a pair of eyes worse than glass, for they were clear and his were not: and, with such a breath, as except to the stink of a rotten tooth, I cannot compare it to any ill savour in the world. Now this untimely, misbegotten and accursed borne creature, was (alas that I should speak it) married for his money to a most fair, sweet, young, dainty, straight, fine damsel that a man might see in a whole city, oh fine love that could be betwixt them.  Ar. 
Fie upon it, what an oversight was that in the whole parish? why, the maids or the young men, or some good body or other might have forbid the banes, or have taken her away from him, by the way: was there never an Orlando that would venture a limb for Issabell?  Tid. 
Yes that there was, for else I fear I should have spoiled the Groom, howsoever it would after have fallen out with the Bride; but, to tell you what fell out, upon a sudden as this monster of a Man was coming homewards to his own house, a little from the town, in a little Lane at the turning of a hedge, were prepared for the purpose ten gallant Cavalieroes, well horsed, and weaponed, and every way fully appointed for the purpose: put the peasaunte to his palsy, and on a spare horse furnished for the purpose, took the Bride in all her rich jewels and costly attire, and far from that country carried her, from whence he could never fetch her: for grief whereof, I mean his rich Chains of pearls, and jewels, wherewith he had adorned his world's idol, he took such a heaviness in his heart, as tumbled his head in his grave: and she sweet Lady, lived a happy life with a more worthy beloved.  Ar. 
More sayst thou? why less worthy could none be, if he were as thou hast described him: oh cursed pelf, that makes such a Coblative coviunction: but this is the fault of many fools, that, as jews do Moors, sell their children for money: but the end of thy tale, was better than the beginning, which I was glad to hear: but tell me hast thou such an other?  Tid. 
Yes that I have, and much of the same nature, In a country market town, near unto this city dwelled a woman of great wealth, who being of the years of scarce understanding, for she could hardly go, with out Leaning, a most hollow eyed, wrincled faced, dropping nosed, toothless mouthed, slavering lipped, most ill countenanced, worry complexioned, and worse conditioned, crooked, creeping and crippled old woman, fell in love with a most gallant, neat, handsome, tall, strait and goodly gentleman, who for the only love of that she had, cast himself away, upon this old Crone: but, though he had a little troubled his conscience, with a little ceremony, the matter far from his heart, finding her humour too much inclined, to the spanish grape, and for want of natural heat, to drink much of spirits of wine▪ & hot waters plied her so with such drinks, as drove her into such a heat, as put her into such a fever, as carried her quickly to her long home, and left him possessor of all her wealth:  Ar. 
A good bargain, but ill gotten for such a kindness, was but a kind of poison: but yet, if he meant not her death, it was no great matter for her sickness.  Tid. 
Oh no, I have heard him protest, not for all the world, for had she lived she should have lacked no cherishing, but for lying with her, he would not have come in bed with her, for hurting her; for she was so tender that she was ready to fall in pieces.  Ar. 
It was done like an honest man, to have some pity on her that had so much loved him, I thank him for it, every man would not be so kind: but on I pray you, hast thou any more of these?  Tid. 
Not in this nature, but if it may not seem tedious, I could tell you a merry tale, how I lost myself at a wedding.  Ar. 
I pray thee do.  Tid. 
It was my hap one day to hear of a great Bridail, or country wedding, in a pretty village near unto a market town, which solemnity was kept, at the house of one sir Slapsawce, a slovenly knight, that by an unhappy chance came by a title more than he was worthy of: for he had nothing in him of a knight, more than his title, except it were, that he wore spurs and a sword: for he was used to ride very often to the fairs, and to the Market, and they were both guilt and dammasked for fear of wearing out too soon, A satin jerkin he wore, which was his great grandfathers, & it was his pride to speak of it in honour of the Antiquity, beside a brooch in his hat, which was the Boss of some horse bridle, that having been some pawn to his ancestors, was left to him for a legasie: which being set in his hat, would make him shake the head with no small pride: but not to stand too long upon an idle description,  
Let it suffice that he was fat, both in belly and purse: dwelt in a fair house, and kept good victuals for his friends which were not many, nor often: but, at feasts, he would be lusty, brew good bear, & down with a bullock: and make no spare as long as it would last: So now at this time betwixt Master jenkin his eldest son, and mistress Parnel, his neighbour's daughter whose fathers purse made a match with his land, there I say at his house at this bridal feast, was a great meeting of all the gallants of both genders in the Country I omit to tell what charge he saved by the world, of Capons, Chickens, Geese, Lambs, pigs, yea and some Bullocks, brought in by the tenants, with malt and meal, beside Apples plums and plumm cakes, that there wanted nothing that might be had, so good cheap but all this is nothing to the purpose of that I mean to speak of, for during this time of feasting being in the Summer time, there wanted no variety of sports, as hunting, hawking Music and dancing, courting, and kissing, and what not, that was necessary: and yet for myself, being brought thither by a friend, I left myself I know not how and not being out of a chamber was as it were in a wood, saw many ways and knew not which to take: for when I had taken a superficial view of them all old and young, fair and foul: men and women: I was in such a case, that I knew not which way to turn me, for, first touching the men, one he was so fine at kissing of his hand, as if he did wipe his mouth at every word, an other would congey so low that his points had much ado to hold, so that those were too full of compliments, for my conference, an other he was so neat, fine, and all so fine, that for fear of tutching his ruffs, displacing his sword point, or some such nice kind of Annoyance, I durst not come too near him: An other, he was so rude & so busy with every body, that I was loath to be troubled with him: An other was so eloquent, that I knew not how to talk with him: An other was so dull of understanding, that I had no edge to deal with him, Another so bashful, that I was loath to make him blush: and another so saucy▪ that I was glad to shun him, and other was so old that I should have had a Chronicle, to answer him and an other so young, that it was pity to trouble him: thus among men I could single out no mate: And for the women, if one had a good wit, than was her face nothing answerable, so that I could rather desire to hear her, then see her: and if an other were fair, than her wit was out of the way, so that I might rather please mine eye then trouble my tongue with her, another if she were rich, than was she so old that she was out of date with me: an other was so young, that I was afraid to venture on her: So that, in some, I knew not how to bestir me: either to stand like a spy, to here, and see, and say nothing, and to loose time, in talking to idleness, but to tell you of the graces, and countenances of them all, as well men as women▪ it were a pretty jest to think on: if I could remember them all in the right: for the men, one would stand snuffing and spitting, as if he had been new come from Tobacco: An other would sit shaking of his legs, as though he were kicking of a dull horse: an other would stand with his arms astrut, like a Scarecrow in a peas-garden, another would set out his foot to look upon his new shoestrings: another would frown, as though he were too good for the company, and another bite the lip, as though he had some pain in his middle finger: one did look as if he would whine for an ill look of his Mistress, another stand like a Godson that should be cunning of his lesson by heart, one like a fool that was ashamed of good company: and another like a knave that was a Setter for fools: so that, afraid to touch one, come near an other, trouble one, or be troubled with another, I left my old Masters to their ha now ha, and the Madcapps to their heidegies, and for a while rather stood to the blame of silence, than would fly the shame of folly: and so leaving every one to his humour, fell to note the variety of countenances, among the women: one would sit mumping, as though teeth would have much pleasured her: Another nod the head, as though she had been nurtering of youth; another lere on either side, as a Cat at a mousehole; another swell with pride, as if she were Mistress of the Harvest cart, another make so many faces, that she had near a good one among them; one would be stretching of her bodies, as if her waste were too straight, another be putting off and on her gloves, to show the rings on her fingers, another stand and sigh as if her heart would have burst for love.  Ar. 
Yea marry, that was the wench I looked for all this while: did not her colour come and go often, and did she not use little speech, and change the copy of her countenance, and fiddle much with her fingers, and wag the forepart of her soot and withdraw herself from much company?  Tid. 
She did all this and much more, as sometime laying her hand on her heart, another while stretching her fingers to hear them crack, as if every jerk of a joint were a husband, and by and by look in her hand, as though she had been told of her fortune under her middle finger, and then a little shake the head, as if it were not fully to her mind; & this wench did I fall aboard withal; and for lack of better business, fell to court her with a few good words.  Ar. 
As how I pray thee:  Tid. 
In this manner: fair virgin, if it be no trouble to your patience to put you out of your passion, let me entreat you to remove your melancholy, for it is not agreeable to your complexion: sir quoth she, it may be you have made me blush, to think what you would say to me, but if my mind be not in perfect state, I can not take you for a Physician: yet for your good counsel I thank you, and that is all the fee you must look for.  Ar. 
The wench had some wit, I perceive by her answer.  Tid 
Wit, yes at will, for this was but the first blow, but see what followed: Lady quoth I, your fee is too great, for such a small piece of Physic; but, indeed if that I did but know the Nature of your disease, I would study for your cure, and deserve a fee before I would take it: but the mind of sickness is upon so many causes, that the grief is hard to guess, without some light from the aggrieved: but that known, he is either unlearned or unlucky that can minister no comfort: you say well quoth she, but what if it be known to be cureless, what then is any counsel without comfort?  Ar. 
Perilous Ape, I fear it will prove an Urchin.  Tid. 
Oh no, 'tis a pretty creature, as you will confess when you hear more: but let me tell you my reply. It may quoth I seem cureless, that may have help, and therefore good words may do good in the nature of a good will: words quoth she are good when they are well spoken; better when they are well meant, & good when they are well taken, and better when they are well returned: but for good will, it is a kind of riddle that simple wits understand not; for fine wits can so equivocate, that plain meaning is much abused, where the misbelief of good words makes the overthrow of a good mind.  Ar. 
Why how now man, was this a wench?  Tid. 
It was a woman at least of woman kind, as fair a damsel as I think lives in the world: but, let me tell you how I went about with my wits to meet a little with her good will. Lady quoth I, good will grounded upon good cause, may out of a good meaning bring forth good words, which working good effect in a good mind, may upon a good consideration work a good conclusion; Beauty is a good thing to the Eye, virtue to the mind these work a love in desert, which is good in reason: Now love in reason having a great power in nature, may make the riddle easy to be red, where knowledge will not dissemble ignorance.  Ar. 
Well said wag, it was well put to.  Tid. 
No such matter, my fortune was yet too far from such a figure; for, let me tell you her answer, and then give your judgement.  Ar. 
I pray thee do.  Tid. 
Why Sir quoth she I perceive you go from one Riddle to another; knowledge to dissemble ignorance is for wisdom to be hid in folly, which is a strange construction for a weak capacity: if the cause of good will be misconceived, the good words may then be displaced, and so the matter mistaken the time may be but misspent: Beauty is but a shadow that hath no substance, where reason may be blinded with illusion, and virtue is so far from nature, that it is not seen but with the eye of grace; and for Love it is grown such a lest, that it is rather laughed at then believed in the world: therefore where you find beauty, do not flatter it with virtue, till you see it: and for virtue do not amiss conceive it, lest you wrong yourself in it, but where in deed you find it, I can not blame you to love it.  Ar. 
Oh unhappy the●fe, able to rob reason of his understanding: but I hope thou wouldst not leave her so.  Tid. 
I think not, for thus I fell upon a reply: to blame love were a blot in kindness, and to yield to reason is a bond in wit▪ to find folly in wisdom is the search of a deep wit, and to weigh words in their true worth, is the proof of good understanding: but to laugh at love is no proof of good will: If therefore the virtue of your spirit in the beauty of your eyes hath drawn my heart to love, will you not be as good as your word, not to blame me for dooïng well: for if reason fail not my conceit, let me not move patience in speaking truth, & let not truth seem flattery, where virtue hath but her due honour: so shall the riddle be soon read, whose substance is but yourself, and the passion best cured where my humble service may be graced: Sir quoth she I hope you will pardon my weakness, to entertain your patience with idleness: for to answer your Arguments, would require a better Scholar, than my learning: you may judge amiss and mean well, Complexions and conditions may differ, and I may believe, and be deceived, when words may want their weight in good will: Love is a dangerous spirit, and where he is snared by any subtlety, doth much hurt, where he is taken: If I were so well acquainted with him, as you would seem to be, it may be, I should employ him as you would, but to leave riddling, in reason let me tell you this: as I would not be vuthankfull to a stranger: so would I not be strange to myself, as I can commend your wit, I must have care of my will, & till I be able to be a friend, not to admit the entertainment of a servant; & therefore, when you know my disease, hoping you will be my Physician, I will follow your counsel▪ to be as merry as I may, & having no better fee, only I thank you for your kindness: Lady quoth I, I am sorry, Time admits me not, with your favour, to deliver you further my mind, Let it suffice you that I am yours more than I can say, though I can say no more, then that I am yours: if occasion in your commandment may make trial of my trust, I will attend my desert in the hope of your regard: and so hoping, that love will be without danger, where words carry the true weight: if affection may help a passion, let me entreat you to apply my faith to your fancy, and I hope my physic will do you good: but since, neither time, nor place doth fit our further conference, I pray you let me entreat you thus f●re to honour my fortune, as to wear this ring for my sake, a littie hoop of gold, in which was engraved, Sic fides, so is faith, pure, and without end: which with a blushing denial, upon such importunity, she took and gave me for a favour to wear for her sake, a little Cupid of Bugle finely wrought, and written over his eyes in black letters: Caecus sictus Amor; upon the mutual receit of these tokens, with some little short congey we parted, leaving her to her old passion, that I knew not; or to this new passion that I had moved, but yet, found not, or to smile at my folly, which I doubted not: and so sequestering myself from the women to chew the cud of this kindness, I fell, or at lest was fallen upon, by a young gallant in show, but indeed a companion for a dog, rather than for any better condition: Yet to bleer the eyes of fools he could play the knove with setting on the face of an honest man: this youth in a basket, with a face of Brass, upon a little acquaintance (for a little would serve his turn) comes to me, with this salutation: by your leave sir: It seems you are a stranger in these parts, but if you can away with our country sports, will you make one at bowls for a rubber or two? we will play no great game (and yet would he cheat for a shilling:) No good sir quoth I, I thank you, I am not acquainted with your ground, & should but pull down a side, & therefore I pray you now pardon me: will you then sir quoth he have a rest at Primero, or a game or two at tables: it is the worst thing in the world to stand idle: true sir quoth I, but it is as good be Idle, as ill exercised, and to tell truth, I am no gamester: beside indeed, under the shadow of jesting; I did not like he should jest away my money: Indeed Sir, to say the truth you do the better, it is the worst spent money at play, that can be: for recreation, among good company, a little money is not ill ventured: but I pray you sir, what news abroad? hear you nothing from the Court? nor from beyond the Seas? now I knowing his condition, and desirous to be rid of his Company, told him, that I heard no late news from the court, but from beyond the Seas I heard some letters read, in which I saw no matter of Import; but one I pray you sir quoth he (Rousing up his rascal humour) in hope to hear of some matter for his purpose: let me be holding to hear it, for we in the Country live so far off from all good places, that news come to us like fishes, never till it be stale: and and yet there too, are we glad of it: why sir quoth I, thus it is; I read, that there was a notable knave under the shadow of a fool, used to great men's houses, where with a bold face railing upon one to please an other, he would abuse both: and ever chiefly following the best cheer, the deepest purses, and shallowest wits, thus sometime with a gull, and otherwhile with a white pigeon, one while with a Gander, an other while with his grey goose, it fell out, that there was divers mischiefs wrought by his villainy: The Chamber maid, was poisoned in her sleep, whereupon she fell into a timpany: my young master lost much money at play, and tales went betwixt friends to set neighbours together by the Ears: with these, and many other such Tricks, this customer with all his confederates, being found one day together, about some wicked consultation, were by a general consent, taken suddenly together, whipped all out of the city, and banished the Country, upon pain of death never to return. Is it possible quoth he strange news in deed, I thank you for it: well Sir, you will not walk abroad, I will leave you for a while, and come to you anon: but I heard no more of him for that time.  Ar. 
It is no matter if you never hear more of him, nor any of his condition: for, if there he one honest man of them, he is out of the way from all his company, but I pray thee tell me what became of the wench, didst thou see her no more neither?  Tid. 
Yes that I did, I saw her, I spoke with her, and with much ado obtained favour at her hand: but if it might not be tedious▪ I will tell you a little of the circumstance that passed betwixt us, ere we came to the chief point.  Ar. 
Which point was that? the busk point, or the gaskin point?  Tid. 
Tush a pin for those points, our thoughts were carried in a higher course of contentment: I will tell you she was fair, which made me not foolish, she was kind, which made not me careless, she was wise, which made not me wilful, and she was virtuous, which made not me unhappy: but, while I thus commend her, I say nothing of our conference, which was as I will tell you: The next day being fair, & many Ladies, and gentlewomen willing to take the air, hand in hand, every one singling out his mistress, leading them along upon a fair green, conversing as they thought convenient; myself not willing to be left alone, and most willing to have so good a friend, took out my Mistress by entreaty, to take a little patience with my trouble; with whom, having trod a step or two, I fell aboard with in this manner. Sweet mistress, though idle heads make a fiction of Cupid, yet better judging hearts know, that Love can never be blinded: for the eyes of Love looking into the heart of virtue, swear the service of Reason, to the honour of Beauty: Servant quoth she, (since you will needs have it so) Let me tell you yet, that there is no gold pure until it be refined, nor any ring but it hath two ends, till they be both joined in one: so faith is not known, till it be proved, nor endless, but in the knot of Love: But, as it is a great Art to refine gold, and no less cunning to cast it into a Ring: so is it a great proof of Wit, to find out the pureness of faith▪ and no less happiness to make use of it in Love: but, as good minds will ever construe good things unto the best, so for to doubt the worse, is not amiss in the best meaning: Lady quoth I, a causeless suspicion breeds a needless jealousy, and where all good is intended, why should any be misconstrued: the refining of gold is in the fire, and the sitting of the Ring in the hand; so, is the trying of faith in the care of affection, but the knitting of Love, is in the content of the heart. Where if fear be a hindrance unto happiness, reason must want a part of his perfection: In deed quoth she, hope is a pretty humour, but it is not always followed with felicity: but for that I would neither hide the Sun in a cloud, nor make day light of Moonshine, I will leave to your own discretion to consider, what is best to be conceived: and for that, all eyes are not in one head, nor all thoughts in one heart, let me entreat you to be wise for yourself, and I shall be the gladder of your well doing: Lady quoth I, I shall do well in nothing, but your gladness, neither shall I be glad of any thing, but in that you shall well allow of: for, to be wise in your will, shall stand the happiness of my wit, and to pass the course of your contentment, shall be the imperfection of my discretion; and therefore let eyes look how they list, and hearts think what they list, to your virtue I avow my love, and in your Love be the joy of my life. Servant quoth she, I command you then whatsoever you see to have patience, and whatsoever you hear to have silence, until the next time that we meet again, when you shall hear that shall not grieve you, though not enjoy that may content you: and so let us away, for our company is going in, and I have spoiled a Goose that I must pluck a feather with: with these good words and such like, we went something fast, until we overtook our company that were going before us, and in we went into the parlour, where being all set, some fell to cards, some to Tables, some to playing upon Instruments of Music, and some to singing, I placing myself somewhat near unto my new Mistress, took a book in mine hand, and fell to reading of it, which being of the spoil of Troy, scarce had I read three lines of the first lease, but a strange humorde brain, that had but a little wit in his head, falls in hand with my fair mistress: but, if I should tell you how she handled him, it were a tale almost worth the telling.  Ar. 
I pray thee do for ten to one, if he were a cap, she would fit him with a coks comb:  Tid. 
And so she did, and a bell and a babble to it, or else I am deceived: for let me tell you, first for his proportion, he was squared out of a timber log, which was crooked at both ends, and little better in the midst, his face big enough, and wanted no nose, and for his lips they suited his slaver well, his hair of the colour of a roan horse, and as hard as the stump of a Rubbing brush: and for a beard it was so thick, that it harboured a great train of his retinue, his body much after the Barrel, and his legs with the wrong end upwards, yet had this fellow a pair of boots on, and spurs, that were too long for his heels: now for his apparel, had he been a travailer, I should have taken him for some strange fool, but being, as I after heard, a neighbour's child, I found he was a notable gull: Now this fool falls to courting of my Mistress, and thus he comes to her: Mistress are you here? I think I have fitted you now, am I not in your colours: why quoth she, you have so many, that I cannot tell which is mine, if I were a great Lady, folks would take you for my fool: but I see your tricks well enough; because you have many mistresses, you would have colours for them all; why, let me see, you have ash colour for one, Oh that is for her that hath the green sickness: and yellow for another, that is for her, that hath the yellow jaundices, you know who I mean, that was sick for love of you: and white for an other, that was lately recovered of an Ague, or a worse matter, you know the cause of her sickness: and blewe for an other, because she is in a consumption through your unkindness: and tawny for an other, you know who that was, that painted herself, and her colour was not right: and Carnation for another, who you know, is daintily painted, but for whom is your Crimson? truly for you mistress: I thought so in earnest, quoth she; for I cannot choose but blush when I see you, and so you wear crimson, for my colour: well when I perceive I am among your mistresses: but I pray you henceforth leave me out, for he that is my servant shall wear no other livery but mine: who? I mistress quoth he: no, though I am not so rich as I would be, I wear no liveries, I can tell you: No, yes said she, I hard you say not long since, that one of your mistresses had put the fool upon you, but you would shake off her livery▪ why so I have quoth the good goose, I have both shaken off her and her livery: but in truth mistress, but that I have loved you well, I could not bear these flouts at your hand: for I hope I am not beholding to you, but 'tis no matter, they say with brawling and squabbling beggars come still together and so may we if you will, why quoth she, so we are already methinks, are we not met here together: But hearken unto me seruaunre, it seems by your glove, you now have been a hawking, what? have you flushed a woodcock? I hear there was one just in your way, the last time I saw you: indeed quoth he it is true, and a vengeance on it, For my Tassel made after it, and went so far; that I had like to have lost him: But you are so full of quibibbles, that I fear you mean knavery: But it is no matter when you have done your will, make an end: Oh servant quoth she, you forget yourself, will you now be angry with your mistress? but tell me I pray you, do you not sometime use to hawk at the jaie and the woodpicker? Yes quoth he that I do, yea but quoth she not in those clothes: why mistress I pray you quoth he, do you think I am afraid of my clothes? No I am able to buy new when these are done, I would you should well know it: I know it well Servant quoth she, but I mean an other matter that the Hawk mistaking her game should (seeing your colours) Seize upon yourself, instead of a woodcock, a woodpicker I would have said, well said mistress, quoth he, there is an other blow, but I will bear it as well as I may: but it is no matter I will think of it as I have reason; yea Servant quoth she will you take my pepper in your nose, and snuff at a little mirth? Nay then I perceive your proverb will not hold, we shall never come nearer together than we are: yes faith good Mistress quoth he, that I will come a little nearer you, when Removing his stool he sits close by her, and offers to take her by the hand, when she desired him to forbear her, for his hands did so sweat that she could not endure them: speak quoth she your mind, and I will hear you, but if you will not hold your fingers, I will leave you: well than mistress quoth he, let me tell you, you know I love you: if it be true quoth shoe, I am sorry for it, for I love not you, I like you, I delight not in you: but I am sure quoth he, you do not hate me: be you assured quoth she, I will not hate myself: I hope qnoth he, you will not make a fool of me; I pray you quoth she, do not make a fool of yourself: With this the gentleman began to grow Angry: when upon the sudden, a gentlewoman of the company, full of witty conceits came to my mistress with these words: come cozen, you and your servant never meet, but there is some wars ere you part: but come on, let us leave this fiddle faddle, and now fall to some pretty sport, or other: content quoth she withal my heart; when making of a little round, sat there down under a great bay window in the parlour some five couple of us, and no sew mad lads, and wenches at our backs, to hear and note our pastimes: which was as I will tell you, neither purposes, tales, nor Rideles, but a merry jest, that I never heard of before, call Decorums and Absurdums, every one must show his wit, till either the brains were weary, or the dinner were ready: and thus they began. The sharp witted wench, whom I often spoke of before, was the first, who thus fell to her business: To speak good words to a good understanding, is a decorum in judgement: to which the next replied: To speak wisely to a fool is an absurdum in Reason: then followed another with this speech; To answer love with kindness is a decorum in Nature: to which the next replied, To bestow love unworthily is an absurdum in wit: then follows another, To hope on desert, is a decorum in reason: to whom the next replied, To be afraid of fortune is an absurdum in judgement: then came it to my Mistress, who thus delivered her opinion, To honour wisdom is a decorum in Love: and then it came to me, who thus made my reply, and not to love virtue, were an absurdum in humanity: then comes it to our fool, who thus brought out the treasure of his casket, To gather wealth is a decorum in thrift: to which was suddenly replied, To dig in a dunghill is an absurdum in honour, then comes it about again to the first, who thus began again. To keep promise in kindness, is a decorum in love: to which was replied, To perform an ill vow, is an absurdum in Grace: then followed the next in this manner, To play the fool wisely is a decorum in conceit, to which was replied: To play the wag unkindly is an absurdum in good manner: then comes it again to my Mistress, who thus delivered her mind, To be constant in love is a decorum in honour: to which I replied, To be false to honour is an absurdum in Love: then comes it to the gull, who thus fell to plain English. To be kind to her servant were a decorum in my Mistress: to which a mad wench replied, A servant to be too saucy with his Mistress, were an absurdum in duty: Now as it was coming about again, comes in the service for dinner, whereupon we broke off our talk for that time; but after we had dined, and passed away a little time with idle prattle, we got ourselves together again, all saving the Ass, who for fear of more coals than he could carry, got himself out of doors, where we never looked after him, but fell to a new sport, to answer many words in one: one must propound, and an other answer.  Ar. 
As how? I pray thee tell me.  Tid. 
You shall hear, the first began thus: If a man labour all the days of his life, and get nothing till his death, what shall he be thought?  Awn. 
Unhappy.  Pro. 
If a woman be kind but unconstant, what shall she be accounted?  Awn. 
Unwise.  Pro. 
If a man deserve well of his Mistress, and she requite him ill, what shall she be thought?  Awn. 
Unkind.  Pro. 
If a virgin be faithful to her Lover, and he prove a Traitor to her trust, what shall he be called?  Awn. 
Ungracious.  Pro. 
What is the fairest thing in the world?  Aw. 
Truth.  Pro. 
What is the sweetest thought in the mind?  A. 
Love  Pro. 
What is the most sure in the world?  Awn. 
Death.  Pro. 
What the greatest offence in the world?  A. 
Treason.  Pro. 
What is the noblest thing in the world?  Aw. 
Valour  Pro. 
What is most dangerous?  Awn. 
Trust.  Pro. 
What is most fearful?  Aw 
War.  Pro. 
What most joyful?  Aw. 
Peace.  Pro. 
What is most rare?  Aw. 
Honesty.  Pro. 
What most common?  Aw. 
Beggary.  Pro. 
What most subtle?  Aw. 
Wit.  Pro. 
What most kind?  Aw. 
Will, if it be pleased: oh you are out, quoth all the company, for talking of pleasing: and so with a pleasing laughter the company broke off, and every one with his Mistress, fell to walking abroad, when my Mistress making one, I had no reason to stay behind; and therefore to be short, singling ourselves from the company, I fell thus into discourse with her: Mistress, is there any thing more precious in the mind then the Love of the heart? I beseech you answer me in a word: No quoth she I think nor; But quoth I, would you love that heart, where you found that spirit? yea, I think I should: but would you believe that tongue that did speak from such a heart? yes, I think I should quoth she; and will you esteem of that love, that such a tongue speaks, out of such a heart? yes, I have reason for it; then good Mistress, let your eyes in my heart, see the truth of that love that can not live, but in your grace: well Servant quoth she, I see you would speak well if you could hit on it, oh Mistress quoth I, I had rather hit well then speak of it: well quoth she, I perceive you have learned to turn the point upon a quarrel: oh but quoth I, I had rather join hands upon a friendship: but when joining of hands may cause the breaking of hearts, the conceit quoth she is ill carried: yea but quoth I, when the want of hands breeds the woe of hearts, content is much hindered: oh, but patience (quoth she) is an excellent trial of truth: yea but quoth I delay is the death of delight: yea but quoth she love is ever constant, so long quoth I as kindness is comfortable: oh servant quoth she, love sees in absence, nothing qd. I but sorrow: oh sir, who will not watch his hawk shall never reclaim her: but quoth I if she be flying she is better on the fist then on the mew: well, he that will not pluck for a card, is not worthy of a prime, but qd. ay, he that can be flush, may better carry the rest: well servant, I will consider of your discretion, & where honour may be kind, reason will not be ungrateful: you are a stranger in this country, & yet I hear well of your estate, but give me leave to be myself, & as I find you wise, continue my good opinion, which being more than I will speak of, I will leave to you to think: and so once more let me entreat your silent patience to put off one suitor more: who speaks so by rule that I can hardly answer him by rote: Mistress, let he carriage of my discretion so continue your good opinion, that the hope of my fortune be in the honour of your favour, in which let me be wholly yours, or else not be mine own: with this we broke off our talk for that time, & going in, my Mistress was saluted by a spruce companion that loookt like a letter in print: who with a smooth Anus countenance, as if he had been a prologue to a play, with a wink & simper thus begins. Fair Lady, many fair days to the looks of your fair eyes: & sir, as many quiet nights to your troubled brains, to bring your wits in temper. I read qd. he, in the rule of affection, beauty is loves object, love beauties subject: but qd. she where simplicity understands not the project, the subtlety may be an abject. qd. he where reason carries affection it favours discretion: but qd. she where wit wants judgement, will goes to repentance for understanding: I but qd. he where wits wilful reason wants in judgement: & qd. she, reason without discretion leads wit out course: why Mistress quoth he, can reason be without discretion? I have heard so quoth she, of a scholar in Philosophy, where in searching the secrets of Nature, may be the overthrow of reason, which only proceeds from want of discretion: oh but Mistress, extremities exceed the rule of reason, and therefore he is a simple Scholar, that will lose himself in finding nothing: and yet quoth she, he that seeks too far may lose himself ere he be aware: yea but quoth she, he that gains more than himself, in losing but himself, may think well of his profit, what ever be his pains: yea but quoth she, if desire be fed with vain hope, when the gain is but loss, what is the issue of such a profit? Sorrow quoth he to Reason, but patience to discretion: alas quoth she, all one sense set down in two words, where the grief of patience is the sorrow of reason: why but Mistress quoth he, what is the help? I know not quoth she better than this, I think you were better keep silver in your purse, then spend it in making of gold. Indeed quoth he you say well, there be so many All-missers, that Alcumistry is out of credit, and yet it is so pleasing a study, as sets many good wits a work; yea, but then quoth she, if wise men will be mad, who can help their disease? indeed you say true; and I think that Love and alchumistry are alike, for when reason affects beauty, and wit honoureth virtue, yet shall fortune give a blow, that shall break the neck of both their travailers. He then quoth she that is wise will shun it, and a coward naturally will fear it: but I hope you have wit enough to avoid it: well Mistress quoth he, though I scare not the worst, yet since I can not hope the best, you shall see I will not grow mad in the study of feminine Philosophy: howsoever I follow the masculine rules of reason. You do well qnoth she, for if in the study of the feminine Philosophy, the rules of reason mistaken make the masculinewit prove folly, it will prove a very pitiful piece of learning: but since you are come to your Grammar rules, and I an ill Sholer in an Accidens, I pray you pardon my simplicity if my parts of speech be imperfect: with that the quick witted wench that stood by, and gave audience to their eloquence, as the Scholar was about to frame his answer, broke it off with these words; come on cozen, let us go to cards, & leave your Pro & Contra: Master Scholar, you must have a wife from school, if you will win her by learning: Indeed forsooth quoth he, Panpudding is a good dish for a gross stomach: O sir quoth she, I hope it will do well for a scholars commons: how now cozen quoth my Mistress, you are ever crossing my friends, in truth I love learning with my heart, though not to read in a book that I like not: truly Mistress quoth he, I would I had a book to your liking: in deed quoth she so would not I, for I had rather be beholding to you for nothing, then be indebted for a trifle: but quoth she if you pleas, let us go to some other sports, for it may be, we have wearied some of the company with too much idle talk; I hope not, but what shall please you and them, I shall be contented with; and if I may be admitted, I will be ready to make one, come on quoth mistress Madcap, let us go to griefs and joys, let us sit round; which soon agreed upon, we sat round, and thus fell to our business. First began my quick wit with these words, what a grief it is, for a good wit to want money? the next followed, what a joy is, it to be content with a little: then the next▪ what a grief it is, to be wronged and cannot help it, the fourth: what a joy it is to see the ruin of oppression? an other what grief doth grow by the death of a friend▪ an other what joy doth come by the death of an Enemy? then comes it to the Scholar, what grief doth grow by the pride of beauty? then to my mistress what joy doth grow in the preventing of folly: then to me, what grief to reason? not to deserve grace: then again to Madcap, and what joy hath love in the secret of favour? then an other: what grief to unkindness: than the next, what joy to comfort: what grief to ingratitude? what joy to kindness: what grief to falsehood? what joy to faith? Oh quoth Madcappe then bring in health & sickness, & I know not what, tush we will give over this and to some other sports, but look supper is comingin, and therefore we must give over, so for that time we broke off, but what followed after I will tell you.  A. 
I pray thee do, & heartily thank thee for this I have hard.  Tid. 
After Supper we had some table talk, of divers idle things, among other, there was some speech of the natures of despites: whereof one was this: what a spite it is, for a fair sweet wench, to marry a filthy ugly fellow, another was, what a spite it was to see a horse of service draw in a doung-carte, an other a Hawk to be killed by an owl, another a milk-cowe to be stung by a hedgehog, an other to see a hound coupled with a mastiff, an other to see a nightingale killed by a cat. another what a spite it is to see good meat, and have no stomach, and an other, to have a stomach and want meat, and an other, to want teeth, and for a woman to want her tongue: at last, one merry fellow comes out with his jerk: what a spite it is for a poor man to be made cuckoulde, by a filthy fellow? yea quoth Madcap, but it is a great comfort to a thief, to see his fellows hang with him for company: indeed, quoth an other to live alone is too much solitarynes, yea quoth an other, and some time a fool mars a play: 'tis true quoth maddecap it is a spirit a galled lade should come among good horses: with that the Knight, the master of the house riseth, and calls a hall hoh, Gentlewomen, and my good friends, what shall the minstrels stand Idle? and so forgetting the name of musicans, bid call in the fiddlers, and my masters, every one to his wench, oh when I was a young man I could have been nimble at this gear: Son take your Bride and call in your friends, and about the house, bestir your stumps a little, come on: when The wags and the wenches, with the groom and his bride, fell to take hands, and scarce had begun a step or two in four square, I would have said a quadrant pavane, but in comes a post for puddings, a messenger from a mask, that delivered such a speech of the adventurs of an ass upon the but of a rams horn, & the dangerous passage over a puddle of water, that but for the honour of that knight, & trouble of his house, they would not undertake for a bushel of wheat, with a deal of trash as was not worth remembrance: somewhat absurdly ere the tale was told, with a drun & bagpipe came such a morris dance, a mask I would say there; but they made fools merry, and themselves sport, I could say little in their Commendation, but that for their cost and their carriage, bred and cheese, and a cup of ale, had been a sufficient banquet for such a company: who having danced, which they did very ill-favouredly, fell to dicing being both Maskers and mummers, when after the rate of nine shillings among eighteen▪ of them, they fell to play, and having gotten some ten groats, struck up the drum with no little mirth: for, though they cared not for their money, yet their gains would pay for their vizards: and for their clothes, they were but borrowed of their neighbours: but thus, after they had masked and mummed, away they went, and left it by this time, about the hour of sleep, when every one taking leave o● the other, my mistress gave me a kind good night, which made me sleep never the worse.  Ar. 
I believe thee, but I pray thee, tell me what followed the next morning.  T. 
I will tell you; after some kind of vision fancy or dream I know not whether, troubled with I know not what remembering a lesson that a Lady of worth once gave me, that I should not observe dreams, for that they are but illusions, forbidden in the word of the most wise, I did what I could, to put them out of my mind, and getting up something early went abroad into the garden, wishing rather in the day to behold the living Substance of my love, then in the night to be illuded, with the shadow of my delight, whereafter a divine exercise, in the humble contemplation of my spirit, I met (with wide heaven) the joy of my heart, in a word my mistress, who whether, according to the custom of her good housewifery, in rising early, or whether she used the prime of the morning for the time of her devotion, or that she chose that time for the preicruation of her health, I know not, but there I met her at the corner of a walk with her waiting gentlewoman, who knowing her duty, and loath to displease, fell a little behind her: now my Mistress had a book in her hand, which shutting up with a modest smile, she did thus salute me. Servant good morrow, what abroad so early? I had thought no body had been so early a stirrer as myself: but I see I am deceived: mistress quoth I, shall the setuant be in bed after his Miss? that were to much sluggardise: but for your good morrow, many thousand requite you; A fair morning▪ a fair garden, and a fair Lady, fair befall these fair meetings: why how now servant, quoth she, A fair mind, fair thoughts, and fair words; you should do well to go to the fair with such fair wakes: So I do mistress quoth he, you are the fair that have bought me and mine: yea Servant, have I all? what then have you left for yourself? enough quoth I, Grace, and duty, the one to serve, and the other to please: and what quoth she? mistress quoth I, in love and honour▪ and how quoth she? in obedience & patience: As how quoth she? I answered, to do your will, and attend your will: is it possible servant, quoth she, that I have such a power over you? why mistress quoth I is it so strange, that you should have power over your own? Alice quoth she, I pity thy fortune in thy affecting of unworthiness and quoth I, I joy in my happiness to have savour in so much honour: oh but my good servant, if your estate want mean to answer the nobleness of your mind, a grievous joy will make a miserable passion: yea but Mistress, if the content of the mind be a kingdom in conceit, patience that knows no pride, makes love the happiness of life: but how is reason satisfied, where necessity is not supplied? patience in hope finds the comfort of grace: but where time is grievous, how is love comfortable? why though the winter be cold, is not the spring pleasing▪ yes: but a thin harvest makes a poor farmer: oh Mistress, lives not the Shepherd sometime merrier than the Master of the sheep: and the wench with the milk pail, than the lady of much riches? Indeed qd. she I have heard much of the shepherds & their loves, but whether they be fictions or figures I know not; but give me leave, shall I leave Lady for Mistress, wealth for want, a court for a cottage, & command for obedience, & all for the hope of love? no Mistress, love makes a cottage a court, where content is a kingdom, and what greater wealth then in the riches of the mind? for obedience in kindness it is the work of Love, and to be a worthy mistress, is better than an unworthy Lady: and therefore let hope be an assurance in the persuasion of love: but who is the worthy Mistress? she that hath power over herself: and who the most worthy servant? he whom such a Mistress hath entertained: good servant hurt not thyself, in doing me good; good Mistress do me good in not wishing my hurt: If I should love, & not live with you, where is the content of your conceit▪ if I can live without your love, let no conceit content me: if I should favour you & overthrow my fortune, what shall be the reward of my folly? If your virtue grace my love, how much should my service honour you? If the world frown on me, who will help me? If the Heavens bless you, who can hurt you? now fie upon thee servant, I know not what to say to thee: and for that there are company coming, let this in brief suffice thee: so far as I may, I do affect thee, in honour I will grace thee, have patience for a time, & it shall be happy for thee: sor though my estate be not much, yet it is in mine own disposing, and my parents in the Earth, I am at the heavens direction, for my resolution: and therefore, fear not the fruit of thy faith in the hope of my favour, for, I am thine, but I pray thee give me a little leave, to shake off one suitor more: walk by and hear us, and when he is gone, let him go for ever▪ Mistress quoth I, your command is a law, take your pleasure in any thing, make me only happy in being what you will I shall be; and with this word, taking of her a sober smiling leave, I stepped a little aside, and seeing company coming, left her to entertain a young gallant, who a little stepping forwards from his company, saluted my mistress in this manner. Fair Lady what all a Nimphale? Blessed be those▪ Sylvan creatures that can enjoy the presence of such a goddess. Peace quoth she, I will run away rather than make you an idolater, speak not so profanely, there is no goddess on earth▪ and for your Nymphs, they are but poets fictions: pardon me Lady quoth he, if I speak unprobably and Let me say what I think: how much is this sweet ground sweetened by so sweet a creature? nothing at all quoth she, it is your sweet gloves, whose perfume puts down all the sent of the flowers: Oh how much quoth he, doth your Beauty give a lustre to the fairest flower when in the Roses of your cheeks maid Flora blushes to see the pure crimson of her best colour▪ O Sir quoth she, you mean the roses of your shooestrings; indeed they are of a good Ribbin, and well died I think they are in grain: and so is all about you, cloth and silk, I see you ever have the best; I would be loath quoth he to wear the worst, but Lady.  Ar. 
Tush, I pray thee let him go with his foolery; I see it was some noddy, that I doubt not was quickly shaken off. Let me here what followed betwixt you, and your saire mistress.  Tid. 
I will; this gallant with a few flouts prettily put off, After the company had walked about the garden, we were called in to breakfast, where a bridecake and a mess of cream, with the help of a cold pie, staiied our stomachs well, till dinner: but breakfast done, Madcappe, that was ever busy with inventions to set our brains about something calls us together, and down we must sit in a ring: and fall to yea and no: one must propound, another answer, and the third give the reason, and propound the next: As thus Madcap began: If you see a fair wench, would you not have her if you could come by her▪ The second answers, No; the third makes the reason: because she may be more costly than comfortable: now he begins; If you were married to a foul slut, will ye keep her? second yea: third because there is no remedy. If you love a wench, and cannot have her; will you fret: 2, no, 3 for love is full of patience: If you love your mistress and can enjoy her; will you not be glad of it? 2, yea, 3 or else he were mad: If your wise make you Cuckold, will you put her away? 2 No, third, for she may be profitable: If your mistress command you any thing, will you disobey it? 2 yea. 3, for she may command him not to love her, which he cannot. If your friend abuse you, will you not hate him? a no. 3 for he may do it unwillingly, and then is to be pardoned: If you come where a fair wench is will you hide your eyes, because you would not see her? 2. yea: 3 because she may blind the wit, which is, worse than the eye sight. If your friends get your wife with child, and you cannot, will you be angry with any of them? 2 no, 3 for it hides an imperfection. If your mistress have a fine wit, and your wife, but a plain understanding, will you love her better than your wife? 2, no. 3 for that wit that will rule a wife will not please a Mistress If your mis. be kind & your wife dogged: will you love your mis. better than your wife? 2 yea. third for, there is consort in kindness, but there is none in doggedness. If your husband be a fool, and your friend be wise, will you love your friend best: 2 yea. 3. for a fool is butthe trouble of wit: but, quoth mad cap, let me ask you one thing, what is most likest a half moon? 2 a Roman C. 3, because it is sharp at both ends; well quoth an other but what is like to love? second nothing, third because quoth Maddecappe, there is no such thing there is bargaining and selling; looking and telling, lust and folly, commanding & obeying, marrying & getting of Children, the sous money must marry the daughter, and the widow's purse, marry her younger son: this must be done, & that must be done, friends must talk, & folks must meet, the Banes must be asked, the Church must be paid, the guests must be bidden, the dinner must be eaten, the minstrels must play, the youth must dance, & the Bride must blush, and the Groom must make a leg, and gloves must be worn, and the cakes must be set up, and the night grows late, and you must get you to bed, and here is a stir: but for love, alas, where is he all this while▪ god knows and not I: for old folks cannot, younger folks do not, wise folks will not, and as for fools, let them whistle, I will not come to them: but quoth she, now we are out of our yea and no's, and therefore let us all to some other sport, when suddenly comes in sir Swadd the old knight in stead of a gentleman, an he no nay must have a dance: fie for shame, come come, to morrow is the last day I tell you, and therefore be lively & nimble, and have about with these guirles: when to satisfy the old huddle we called for the music, and passed the time in dancing till dinner; which done,  Ar. 
Yea that I would learn? what follow d after dinner;  Tid. 
After dinner we fell to such table talk, as was thought best fitting to the company; one descrying of a parasite by soothing of errors, another girding at a pandar by his brazen face, and his intelligence of leave: another commending beauty to be a foil unto virtue, another the honour of wit in the guiding of love, another what difference was betwixt valour and fury, an other of the plague of love in the folly of jealousy, another out of his epicurious humour, made a kind of oration in the praise of a goose pie, and one of Bacchus sworn men, could talk of nothing but of a cup of wine, the scholar commended learning, because it was the Mistress of Art: and another experience, for that it was the labour of reason: Madcap commended a fool, because he could take no thought, but my Mistress a wise man for consideration of all natures, and I my Mistress for her wisdom in judgement.  Ar. 
I thought where I should have you, but what proceeded?  Tid. 
I will tell you, as we were going on with our opinions upon such points, as we were to talk of, came in certain strangers, for the entertainment of whom, we rose from the table, and after a little ordinary courtesy, leaving every one to his friend or his Mistress, I with my mistress took a turn in the garden, where in very much kindness, we fell to this conference: Servant quoth my Mistress, to feed you with vain hopes might argue much indiscretion in my carriage, & so breed some tuch in my reputation, and not to regard your worthiness, might be a disgrace to mine understanding: & therefore if you can conceive me right, you shall do yourself no wrong: mistress qd. I far be it from my good, to wish your hurt: do with me what you will, for I am but as you will: your direction shall be my course in the due care of your commadement: my hopes cannot be vain that feed on the honour of your virtue, & in your regard of my unworthiness, shall be the height of my world's happiness: well servant, I will now alter your Title, for you have made a conquest of your Mistress, and therefore must now be called my master: & therefore now master, since your servant hath no doubt of your honourable employment, let me see to what good office you will prefer the care of my service: oh Mistress quoth I, I can not so soon forget my duty, but yet to satisfy your will, I will thus far take your favour: that since you will be at my command, I command you the office of a most kind and true friend; that you will in your love command my life, in your wisdom advise my will, and so frame my affection to your discretion, that my heart being in your hands, you may work it to your pleasure: and therefore since the effecting of my felicity resteth only in your favour; in the title of a friend, carry all things to your contentment: well servant quoth she, in your humbleness I see such nobleness, that were I a Princess, you should be no beggar: but as I am, let this suffice for thy comfort: That I have often seen thee, desired to know thee▪ heard well of thee, and now have seen that in thee: that wherein I can honour thee, be sure I will not fail thee: and in token of that truth that shall never deceive thee, with the love of my heart, my hand here I give thee: but to blear the eyes of adversaries to our fortunes, if discontentments should be taken, let us go in as friends, and remain lovers, it shall not be long before you shall hear of me to your comfort: with this speech being ravished, as one founding in delight, as a full heart could speak, I made her this answer: to your hand I give my heart, with a more happy than worthy hand, your sight of me was my bliss, your speech to me my comfort, your regard of me my honour, and your favour my felicity: but for your love, what a joy it is to my life, I shall leave it to your better judgement than my speech: and therefore if I pass a point of your direction, let me lose the dial of my comfort. With which words we went in, and seeming more strange than before: after many pleasing passages among the merry company, the next day b●●ing the breaking up of the feast, till the next time of our meeting, we took a kind of strange leave each one of other.  Ar. 
But tell me, what followed? now she was Lady of thy heart, how camest thou to be Lord of her house? or what was the issue of thy fortune?  Tid. 
Good I assure you, but yet came news of, as you shall hear: within few days after my coming home to my lodging where I lay in a City, not far distant from her habitation, which I had before acquainted her with: suddenly in a morning comes a letter unto me by a footman brought me from my Mistress, the superscription whereof was this. To my assured loving friend Tidero, with speed: The contents whereof were in brief as followeth.  
As a friend I request you, as a Servant I command you, and as a Master I entreat you, without answer of excuse, presently to make your appearance at my house, there to understand what shall happen, much is conceived by a little, in which I rest.  
Yours as you know, Lamina.  
I thanked the messenger, and with as much speed as I could, returned him with this answer.  
To my best and only beloved friend, the Lady Lamina.  
FAir Mistress, kind servant, and dear friend, excuse shall be abuse, where there is possibility of performance: If I could fly, I would use wings for words: in the assurance, of my happiness, joyful of what shall happen: so till I come, coming I rest, in the love a servant, your kind master, and ever bounden friend:  
Tidero.  
This letter was no sooner sealed up and sent away, but I hasted all I could to be at the heels of it, ere it came at home, but it was received, perused, and tricks Invented, and put in practice, and all er●l could come there: where with such attendants as I thought fit. I was entertained at the gate, with a young damsel, very beautiful, ritchlie attired, and Eloquently spoken, who after the passage of ordinary courteous demeanour, leading me along a base Court into a Gardame, and so a gallary, fell by the way to court me with these words. Sir: my cozen the Lady of this house, hath this day performed a kind part with me: I pray you pardon me, if in the passion of Love, I pass the care of modesty: She hath but supplied my place, and for me hath pleaded in your affection: she hath told me of your worthiness, and I hope hath made you hers, whom before you knew her was wholly yours: I know you wise and honourable, and therefore hope you will no less conceal my disgrace, then devise my comfort: She is gone from hence, and left me here for that purpose: what you see, house, land, or wealth, whatsoever, is at my will, and in your will at my command, be pleased therefore I beseech you with my suit, and work not my ruin in your denial: for in the one you may have both a servant, and a friend, in the other, a stranger and an Enemy: Lady quoth I, if I could be false to favour, but faith fears no fortune, my resolution being settled in the fixing of affection, I will rather have patience with the unkindness of a friend, then deserve the rage of an enemy: It is neither house, land, nor wealth that can corrupt me, beauty nor words that can bewich me, nor the threats of fortune that can affright me: Lamia is the day light of my love, let the stars give their light where they list: to her have I avowed my service, and in her love will I run the course of my life: this one honour for her sake I will do you, bury your words in oblivion, and take leave to return to my discomfort: no quoth the Lady that must not be, here is nothing intended you but pleasure: and therefore fear nothing may befall you, your horses are stabled, your servants shall be merry, and their Master not malcontent: return you must not, till you hear from your Mistress, for such was her command, and therefore I pray you have patience: my mistress appareled like a young man but with a Periwig, and a false Beard, comes upon the sudden as we were entering into the great Chamber, and presents me with a Letter from my Mistress, the superscription in this manner:  
To my trusty servant, my loving Master, and approved friend Tidero with speed: pardon me to persuade you to that may perhaps displease you, to lack my presence for your better benefit: for I leave you a heart that dear loves you, and a hand of honour, I say, that in her favour may grace you, she is another, and not myself, believe her, trust her, and Love her, and I will thank you for her, for her servant is my friend, consider of these contents, and in her command make my contentment; so till I see you, which shall be I know not when, in hope of your kindness to my friend, I will rest ever.  
Your very loving friend, Lamia.  
This Letter when I had read, and knew it to be her hand, what trick soever was in her head, I presently took a pen and ink and returned the messenger with this answer.  
To my gracious Mistress, my loving servant and faithful friend the Lady Lamia with speed.  
LAdy, is it the part of a friend to persuade falsehood in Love? your presence is the Sun of my daylight, & your absence the darkness of delight. I seek no benefit but your love, nor can love other than your only self; disgrace be all world's grace but in your eyes, nor will I honour a heart but in your hands; yourself without an other I serve, and you only and no other can I love: and therefore howsoever you account of a friend, I will never be false to my affection, & so till I see you, which if it be never, yet while you live will I love you ever; and so rest.  
Your faithful friend Tidero.  
This letter sealed & delivered, away goes the messenger, whispering with the young Lady a word or two, to entertain me with a little talk, till she were gotten in, and new attired, which was not long a doing: for by the time that we had heard a little music of a pretty lad that did play upon a base viol and sing to it: the song was scarce ended, but in comes my love, my Mistress attired like a horse woman, that had been new dismounted, and with a pretty smile after she had saluted many, at last comes to me, with what? Friend, in truth you are welcome: did you not receive a letter from me? yes good friend quoth I a couple: In deed friend quoth she you are beholding to me, for had it not been discourtesy to bid a friend to dinner, and not give him entertainment, I had not come again so soon: but if I had not come, you should have had no great cause to mislike of your company: but I hope it is well, in truth you are welcome, you shall stay with me to night, to morrow go as soon as you will; good friend quoth I, I thank you, you shall command a greater matter in my service: So after a few compliments we sat down to dinner, where there wanted no part of comfort that might be found in Table kindness; as welcome, carving and drinking, and so forth. But after dinner was done,  Ar. 
Yea now you come to the matter that I long to hear of.  Tid. 
I will tell you; after the cloth was taken away, my Mistress began to entertain the company with these words. In general hoh, you are all welcome; you that come from a feast can better bear with a less pittance but what lacks in meat, let us fill out in mirth; and first quoth she to her Page: Sirrah take your viol and play, and sing the song that was taught you of Love, which commanded, was soon obeyed, and thus performed: the Boy taking his instrument, fell to play & sing this ditty, which I will recite unto you: for I got it out of his book.  


Of all Conceits which is the best? love.  
Yet what is that is thought a jest? love.  
What thought is that gives smallest rest? love.  
Yet in the end makes reason blest? love.   

What wound is that is hardly healed? love.  
What deed is that is surest sealed? love.  
What thought is sweetest best concealed? love.  
What comfort kindest best revealed? love.   

What word is sweetest to be heard? love.  
What sound made can not be marred? love.  
What service merits most reward? love.  
What grace is worthy most regard? love.   

What Love most constant in a friend?  
Where Love is lovely without end?    
Well said Boy quoth she, now go your ways to dinner: Let us alone, and now my masters quoth she, do but imagine ye are at a Bridal, and let us be as merry as we were there, let us fall to some sport or other▪ play may be costly, music we shall have enough anon, & therefore let us spend a little time in some pleasing exercise: I will begin to you: whereto every one giving a willing consent, she began thus: we have been at yea and no's, griefs and joys; let us now go to Butts, one propound, another answer, the Third give the reason: Beauty is a blessed hue: 2 But: 3 it works many cursed actions: then another, money is a good thing: 2 But, 3▪ it brings many to misery: Again virtue is honourable, 2 But, 3 sometime she wants money: Again Love is precious, 2 But; 3 if it be right: Again, kindness is the joy of love: 2 But, 3 in constancy: then qd. I love is the joy of life: 2 But quoth the second: in a true friend quoth my Mistress: Again patience is a virtue: 2 But, 3 a poor one: another, hope is comfortable, 2 But▪ 3 when it is happy: Content is a kingdom, 2 But, 3 in conceit. As we were going on with our Butts, comes in a gallant youth well accompanied and attended, who as it afterwards fell out, was a Suitor to the young Lady, that to try my constancy came about me with a trick of love, or rather wit indeed, to find out the truth or falsehood of a lover: whereupon the company rose, and after all observances of due compliments, he with his young Lady, and I with my Mistress fell to such parley, as we thought best for our purpose: he in the Parlour, and we in the garden, where what followed you shall hear.  Ar. 
Good I doubt not.  Tid. 
Good indeed, and better to: for after that we had walked a turn or two, she revealing of her devise, to try the constancy of my affection, took all things so well, and requited them so kindly, as honour could desire, that Love might enjoy: but by the way among other talk, I pray thee friend quoth She, do me this kindness for to lend me your little Table book in your poeket: for I did a little overlook you the other day and I am much mistaken, but I saw you writing of verses: In deed Mistress quoth I it is true, upon some certain idle notes that I took out of my observation of certain Creatures, I wrote a few idle odd lines, which I will commit unto your kindness in secret to make use of: which no sooner had she taken, and read it over, but a hearty laughter, and much thanks she took of me: and told me she would read them at night in her bed; but the book put up in her pocket, with contented minds in we go together, passed away the day pleasantly, and after supper the young gallant a neighbour hard by took his leave of his mistress, and away leaving us to fall to such fortunes as fallen out.  Ar. 
Oh, but I pray thee kind wag, tell me some of thy verses.  Tid. 
I will, upon a finical Ass I wrote a kind of epigrammical sonnet in this manner.  


A dapper fellow that is fine and neat,  
His hose well gartered, and his Ruffs well set  
Without his picktoothe can not eat his meat,  
Nor sit at Table where the cloth is wet.   

Can talk of nothing but of dainty fare,  
And think of nothing but of fashion;  
Troubles his conscience but with little cares  
And yet will show some idle passions:   

Can smile and simper, congey, kiss the hand,  
And cast a sheep's eye at a fie for shame  
And on the tiptoes of his honour stand,  
When God he knows it never knew his name.   

What will this Gallant leave upon his grave?  
He lived a Rascal, and he died a knave.    Ar. 
Good in truth, more I pray thee, what was the next?  Tid. 
The next was on a fool, on a swaggering ruff.  


He that was gotten in a drunken fit,  
Bred up in brabbles, and by shifting lives,  
His Dad a Tinker, and his Dam a Tit,  
His portion nothing but what Fortune gives:   

Studies no art, but how to cheat and cozen,  
To pack a Card, or cleanly strike a Die,  
Swears by the Elle, anddrinketh by the dozen,  
Talks what he list, and every word a lie:   

Brags of his state, and jets like jack an Apes,  
Wears no good clothes, but of an others cost:  
Gets some odd booties, by unhappy 'scapes,  
Spends on the score, and never pays his Host.   

What will be said of him another day?  
God hath done well to take a knave away.    Ar. 
Another honest wag, if thou lovest me.  Tid. 
I will, and another and another to, and as many as I can remember, if you like them so well.  Ar. 
The more the better, I pray thee out with them.  Tid. 
I will: upon a shamefast clown in gay clothes.  


He that makes curtsy at a Lady's door,  
And blusheth at a clap upon the Cheek,  
And says good morrow Mistress and no more,  
And wears his silken clothes but once a week.   

Stoops and goes backward, when he makes a leg  
And says forsooth at every word is spoken:  
And only keeps his Maidenhead for Meg  
And in his hat will wear her true loves token:   

Can not endure to taste a Cup of wine,  
And loves the Brown loaf better than the white:  
Will at the spending of a penny whine,  
And always goes to bed at Candlelight.   

Wwat will be written on his worships Tomb?  
woe to the Bride that meets with such a Groom.    
Upon a churl that was a great usurer.  


A chuff that scarce hath teeth to chew his meat,  
heareth with deaf ears, and sees with glassy eyes,  
Unto his grave his path doth daily beat,  
Or like a log upon his pallet lies:   

Hath not a thought of God, nor of his grace,  
Speaks not a word but what intends to gain,  
Can have no pity on the poor Man's case,  
But will the heart strings of the needy strain:   

Cries not till death, and then but gives a groan,  
To leave his silver, and his golden bags,  
Then gaps and dies, and with a little moan  
Is lapped up in a few rotten rags:   

What will this Clunchfist leave upon his grave?  
Here lies the Carcase of a wretched knave.    Ar. 
Rightly hit, more I pray thee.  Tid. 
Upon a cheating Companion.  


He that was borne out of a Bastard race,  
Betwixt a beggar and a Gentleman,  
A filthy Carcase and an ugly face,  
And plays the fool before Maid Marian:   

Can seem as sober as a Miller's Mare,  
And can not blush at any villainy:  
In every Market shifteth for a share,  
And sits himself for every company:   

Hath all the Cards upon his finger's ends,  
And keeps a knave in store for many a trick.  
Will be a traitor to his truest friends,  
And lives not by the dead, but by the quick.   

Upon his Tomb what memory will pass?  
Here lies the damnedest Rogue that ever was.    Ar. 
Oh filthy rascal, it is pity that he should come among good company, but on I pray thee with some more.  Tid. 
The next was upon a Gull, that for a little wealth was made a Gentleman of the first head, which was thus:  


He that is well conceited of his wit,  
Because a knave or fool doth flatter him,  
And knows not how to stand, nor go nor sit,  
When in his garments he is gay and trim:   

Rides like the trey of Clubs betwixt two Clowns,  
Ayealow doublet, and a tawny hose,  
Hath half ayeard of Land, in two country towns,  
And like a Hog doth gruntle as he goes:   

Wears a course stocking, and a Holland Ruff,  
A Brooche and picktoothe, in an old silk hat,  
Looks big at Beggars, takes a jest in snuff,  
And in an alchonse spends he cares not what:   

Of this great Gull what memory will pass?  
He lived a Coxcomb, and he died an ass.    
Another upon a Pander.  


He that is hatched out of a Cucker brood,  
Betwixt a Kistrell, and a Bagige kite,  
Feeds all on offal and such filthy food,  
Is neither fit for feather, nor for flight:   

But in his teeth can closely keep a ring.  
And make a motion for a filthy match,  
Can bear the Bob, while other play and sing,  
And hath the craft to cloak and connicatche:   

Can like a dog lie sneaking at a door,  
And creep and curtsy, couch and bow the knee,  
And be a carrier to a common store,  
What will be said of such a swad as he:   

Here lies a trunk of nature's treachery▪  
A slave that only lived by lechery.    Ar. 
Some more I pray thee, what was the next?  Tid. 
Upon a loving fool, as you shall hear.  


A fool that knows not how to use his eyes,  
But takes a picture for an angels face,  
And in his thoughts strange wonders will devise,  
To bring his wits into a piteous case:   

Matcheth the light with darkness, heaven with hell,  
Wisdom with folly, Ignorance with wit:  
And to himself will such fond fancies tell,  
As neither are for wit, nor reason fit.   

But like a Madman mumbleth to himself,  
His dainty Parnell hath no paragon,  
But like an Ape sits sidling with an Elf,  
Till Lands and goods and life, and all are gone.   

What will some write that did his folly prove?  
Here lies the fool that lived and died for love.    
The next was upon a prodigal Cockescomb, that troubled all good company.  


He that will strew his money in the streets,  
Follows the dice, and always throws at all,  
Offers disgrace to every Man he meets,  
Snuffs up the Nose, and swaggers for the wall:   

Cares for no law, and knows not how to love,  
Makes sleep and eating his soul's paradise,  
Will not put up that may his patience move,  
Treads on a worm, and braves a flight of flies:   

Looks a to side, and swears at every word,  
Knits up the Brows, and sets his arms a strut,  
Takes all men's tables, laics his knife aboard,  
And plays the sloven with a filthy slut?   

After his death what will befall his due?  
Here lies the Captain of the damned crew.    Ar. 
Good waggeries, but hadst thou none of the feminine gender▪  Tid 
Yes some one or two, but no more.  Ar. 
I pray thee tell me them.  Tid. 
I will: the first was this, upon a fowl idle slut.  


She that is neither fair nor rich, nor wise,  
And yet as proud as any Peacock's tail,  
Mumps with her lips, and winketh with her eyes,  
And thinks the world of fools will never fail.   

Stands on her pantofles for lack of shoes,  
And idly talks for want of better wit,  
Will have her will, what ever so she lose,  
And say her mind, although she die for it:   

Is cozen german to a jack an Apes,  
And sister to her Mother's speckled sow,  
Kin to a Codshead, when he kindly gapes,  
Aunt to an Ass, and cozen to a Cow.   

What will be said of her so fit for no man?  
Oh fie upon her, 'twas a filthy woman.    
The next was upon a cunning Tit, as thus  


She that looks fifteen thousand ways at once,  
Makes twenty faces ere she dress her head,  
Studies for words to serve her for the nonce,  
With idle tricks to bring a fool to bed:   

Turns up the white of an ill-favoured eye,  
Treads on her toes, because her heels are sore,  
Splaies out her foot▪ and holds her head awry,  
And be ears her placket far enough before:   

Speaks all in print, and reads with a strange grace,  
Writes like a scrivener, like a Fiddler sing,  
Sits fourteen hours a painting of her face,  
And tries the use of many a secret thing:   

Of such a Minx what memory will pass?  
A cunning Ape, will Cozen many an ass.    Ar. 
Prettily put on, but I pray thee didst thou write none in commendation of some worthy Creature?  Tid. 
Yes, some two or three which you shall hear. The first upon a true soldier.  


He that was well begot, and truly bred,  
Wrought all with true stitch, and both sides alike,  
Hath not his fancy on vain humours fed,  
Eut finds the bliss, that baseness can not seek.   

Starts not to hear a Demiculucrin,  
Nor fears to charge upon a stand of pikes,  
Fights like a fury, when his hand is in,  
Shrinks not the shoulder where the Coward strikes:   

But love: a Trumpet better than a pipe,  
Prefers a March before a Moris' dance,  
Rears a dead wound but as a little stripe:  
And a coat armour for his cognisance:   

Gets yet this good, that when his bones be rotten,  
His worthy fame will never be forgotten.    
The next was of an honest man that took great pains for small profit, and yet held up the head: As thus.  


Who beats his brains to write for no reward,  
May break his Pen and lay his paper by:  
Who serves for Grace, and lives without regard,  
May sigh and sob, and grieve and mourn and die:   

And yet again since Heaven will have it so,  
Some shall have wealth, and other some have woes:  
Patience doth many passions overgo,  
That are untemperate spirits overthrow:   

Let him that can not live then learn to die,  
What shall be, shall be, spite of death and hell,  
They are but babies that will howl and cry,  
Cowards that faint to bid the world farewell:   

No, fill the hearts with sorrow to the brink,  
A true bred spirit hath no power to sink.    
The next was upon a merry honest fellow that was out of tune for his purse.  


He that was gotten in a Christmas night,  
After a deal of mirth and merry cheer,  
When Tom, and Tib, were in their true delight,  
And he loved her, and she held him full dear  
Brought upon plainness truth and honesty,  
Can not away to hear of Knavery,  
lives with his Neighbours in true amity,  
And cares not for this worldly bravery:   

Goes through the world, with yea and nay and so,  
And meddles with no matters of import,  
When to his grave this honest man shall go,  
What will the world of all his worth report?   

Here lies a man, like hives that have no honey,  
An honest Creature but he had no money.    
The last I wrote of myself, which was this.  


He that is moulded of a noble mind,  
Purified metal, steel unto the back,  
Flies not with feathers of a Buzzards kind,  
Cries not with fear, to hear a thunder crack.  
Sups up his sighs, and swallows down his grief,  
Begs but of God, or of his great vicegerents,  
Can not endure to name the word relief,  
And serves but honour, or her loves adherents:   

Knows his desert, and yet can not importune,  
Bites on bare need, and yet laments no lack,  
Hates to be called, or thought the child of fortune,  
Stoops not to death until the heart do crack:   

lives like himself, and at his latest breath,  
Dies like himself, ye though he starve to death.    Are, 
Starve sayst thou? no it is pity that such a spirit should have such a fortune: howsoever it stand with thee, be thus far bold with me: live with me & share with my fortunes, I protest I will want of my mind, ere thou shalt want that thou needest but with many thanks for thy kind verses, & discourses, I pray thee tell me, what followed of thy fortunes with thy Mistress▪  Tid. 
I will tell you: after she had taken my Table book and perused such trifles as she found, well Servant quoth she, I see you are a wag; but it is no matter, I must tell you in plain terms, I know some of them deserved as much as you have written, but letting all these toys pass, let me tell thee, the love I bear thee, with the truth I have found in thee, have made me so much thine, that I am no more my own: & in token hereof, receive from me this diamond, & for that I know not how thou art furnished for money, take here this purse of gold, to defray such charges as may fall upon you for your good: beside here is a pair of bracelets, which you shall wear for my sake: in the morning be stirring early, for I mean to be at the Church hereby joining to my house, there to make fast that knot that shall never be undone: & so, let us go in and pass away the time as friends, but no further in the eye of the world: for it shall be best to my content, that the care be privately carried, till our comfort be not to be crossed: with these words, as it were overcome with joy, with willing consent I obeyed her commandment: all which evening and night we passed in such exercises, that all parties pleased, we went every one to his lodging, but how little sleep I took, I leave to the wachmen in the work of love: in the morning the Lady not long after me at the Church door, seeing me at my prayers, kindly saluted me, & the Churchman ready with a few witnesses of her providing & my only servant having sent another home upon necessary occasions: scarce was the book opened, a few words read, and our hearts joining hands, but by a villanus plot of a damnable jew, that in the shape of a man carried the spirit of a devil, came into the Church with some dozen of Mascarados with ugly vizards on their faces, with swords and daggars drawn, cried out Tidero: with the afrighte whereof the Lady fell down, & after many soundings lay as dead: the Captain of these accursed caitiffs, was one Sulferino a gallant there in the country, who having wasted his estate, thought likewise to be the overthrow of this Ladies, who in the pretence of love to her, practised this villainy to me: well, upon sudden how was I here distressed? my Love lying as it were dead before me, my enemies ready to dispatch me: but upon the sudden holding my life at as high a rate as I could, determining to sell it dear, among them I went, & with a Pistol that my Man gave me, and such weapons as we had, we laid the chief villain on the earth, & those that could, got away▪ but myself sore wounded, & my servant no less, looking upon my Mistress, I saw her come to life again, when her eyes alifted up, she sighed out, on friend art thou alive? thou mayst say thou hast had an enemy and not a friend, but good friend lead me home: which I did with some few that were with us: but no sooner come into the chamber, but sending for her Cousin the fair Lady, after she had delivered the whole discourse, in mine arms took her leave of the world: beseeching her (even a little before her last gasp) for her sake, to do me all the honour she could: to tell you my case in the passion, that then took me, it is more than I can express: but the Lady her cozen privately keeping me till I was healed of my wound, within a few days after finding the sharp revenge intended me by a brother of my late dead enemy, conveyed me away with my servants to Sea, furnishing me with all things necessary for my voyage, but as one mischief followeth another, so was it with me; for being near unto the coast of this country; came a sudden tempest, in which our ship driven on a rock, took a wrack, by means whereof, goods none at all, and men few, were saved, yet myself by means of a piece of a Mast that floated on the waves, was driven on land, and with a few crowns in my pocket, and these bracelets on my arms, that had like to have spoiled my swimming got to shore, and am come away as you see, not yet three days since, and yourself the first of my friends that I have met with.  Ar. 
Thou hast told me of such a Merry go sorry, as I have not often heard of: I am sorry for thy ill fortune, but am glad to see thee alive: sorrow not for her that is gone, for that is helpless, nor for thyself too much, for that is needless, thy fortunes may be better at home, than they have been abroad; take no thought, be merry, we are now hard at the Town, we will dine together, and soon we will home together: I have a neighbour within a mile, may hap live to do thee good: Let us go.  Tid. 
Arnofilo I thank you, and think myself happy to have met with you; when we come home we will talk further of the world, in the advancement of my fortune, you shall but bind a friend: now what his fortune was, and what courses he ran in it, if I hear you like well of this, you shall hear of the rest, ere it be long.  
FINIS.