HONOUR TRIUMPHANT.  
OR The Peers Challenge, by Arms defensible, at Tilt, Turney, and Barriers.  
In Honour of all fair Ladies, and in defence of these four positions following. 

1. Knights in Lady's service have no free-will.  
2. Beauty is the maintainer of valour.  
3. Fair Lady was never false.  
4. Perfect Lovers are only wise.   Maintained by Arguments.  
ALSO The monarchs meeting: OR The King of Denmark's welcome into England.  Tam Mercurio, quam Marti. 
AT LONDON Printed for Francis Burton. 1606.   



To the most noble Lord, the Duke of Lennox his grace.  
First Position. Knights in Lady's service have no free-will.   

To the Right Honourable the Earl of Arundel.  
Second Position. Beauty is the maintainer of valour.   

To the Right Honourable the Earl of Pembroke.  
Third Position. Fair Lady was never false.   

To the Right Honourable the Earl of Mountgomery.  
Fourth Position. Perfect lovers are only wise.     

To the Rightly Honourable, and truly worthy Ladies, the Countess of Pembroke, and the Countess of Mountgomerie.  
MOST EXCELLENT LADIES.  
Where perfect honour is ennobled with accomplished perfection, Beauty is not scant: which evermore is the glorious shrine of honourable favour: else had I misconceited mine own hopes, and been graveled in mine own conceits: but my strong confidence, is my confident warrant: neither can ye distaste that, which explains, but what is done for you, what is done by yours. If the pleasure ye shall take in the Defenders, who are yours, by the defence, which is for you, be great: then the acceptance cannot be less, in reading the reasons for that defence: especially being to you devoted: and only to you devoted. What defects and weakly maintaining arguments, in the arguments there are, your protection shall wipe off, and the truth itself (which needs no lustre) chief privilege. I affect no singularity, I boast no affectation: yet can I not freeze in the one, when I am temperately heated with the other. To whom (noble Countesses) should I dedicate the ornaments of love, and beauty? but to the beautifullest ornaments, worthy to be beloved. Neither doubt I, but as these endeavours were willingly intended, so will they as gratefully be accepted. Otherwise (as I hope, as I fear not) I will be an alien to mine own issue: as unworthy to be christened for mine, since disesteemed in being mine. Others, who oppose themselves, if not by Mercury persuaded, I refer to be by Mars enforced. So adventuring at once all my deserts, in your like or dislike: I rest.  
Devoted to your honourable virtues, I. F.   

To every sundry opinioned Reader.  
READER,  
I Intent not to make any tedious Apology: if thou be my friend, thou wilt censure friendly: if a stranger, indifferently: if an enemy, I esteem thee not. Then thus:  

I writ not to content each cavilling brain,  
But eyes of noblest spirits: he that loves me  
Will thank my labours, and commend my vain,  
For any others envy, lest it moves me.  
" He that will storm at every wrongful hate,  
" Must not refer it to desert, but fate.   

Let Ladies smile upon my lines, I care not  
For idle faults in graver Censors eye:  
On whose opinion (truth it is) I dare not,  
The merit of my studies to rely.  
Hear is the comfort, which doth cheer despair,  
I shall be liked not of the grave, but fair.   Meritum rependant venustae.  

Honour triumphant.  

TO THE RIGHT NOble Lord, the Duke of Lennox his Grace. First Position.  
Knights in Lady's service have no free-will.  
RIGHT NOBLE LORD,  
HOw certain it is, both by the tradition of ancient and modern judgements avowed, that every man is not borne for himself; the community of the saw, and the authority of reason shall be a Privilege sufficient; but how much mistaken both the Philosophers of old and later Neotorickes have been, their own ignorance makes manifest: A man (say they) is partly borne for his Country, partly for his Parents, partly for his friends, nothing or (if any thing yet) least and lastly for himself. True, yet had the sensible touch of passion touched them with the feeling of a passionate sense; how much more and more truly might they have affirmed, that the chiefest creation of man was (next his own soul) to do homage to the excellent frame of beauty, a woman: A woman? the art of nature, the lively perfection of heavens Architecture: for though 
Man be the little world where wonder lies;  
yet Women are Saints above earth's Paradise.   
For what is he, who is so absolute a Lord of himself? so powerful in his own power? so free of his own affections? as being ensnared in the pleasing servitude of a gracious beauty, can or durst to undertake any occasion of remissness, but his own heart will be the first guilty accuser of his own folly, and his sincere repentance do penance in the language of grief, in the grief of despair. Again, what is he then, that being free from this captived happiness of love, as it were disdaining to stoop to the bondage of beauty, will not at length feel the misery of his scorn, and be scorned in the wrack of his misery? beside, may he not be desperate of his own merit, to think himself the only exiled abject banished from out the acceptance of a Lady's favour, as also his own unworthiness, which cannot deserve so delicious a blessing? say then such a one be entertained, as a happy servant to a more glorious mistress: how soon, how much is his own free rule of himself endeared to the command of a precious Goddess, neither then hath he, neither is it meet he should have any more domination over his own affections. Mars throws down his weapons, and Venus leads him captive, the lustre of her eyes, and the glory of her worth are of such unresistible a force, as the weakness of his manhood, or the aptness of his frailty, are neither able to endure the one's reflection, or withstand the others temptation: how then? must he yield? true, not to captivity, but freedom; for to be captived to beauty, is to be free to virtue: who would not put of an armour of hard steel and turn from his enemies, to be enchained in pleasure, and turn to a lady in a bed of soft down? foolish hardiness, is hardened foolishness, when securest love is the loveliest security.  

Love once was free from love, and had a will  
To play the wanton wag, he struck full many,  
And took delight soft thoughts of ease to kill:  
Yet he himself was never spoyid of any.  
love careless would go walk, when by a grove  
Love saw a Nymph, when strait Love fell in love.   

Cupid with Psyche's fell in love, whose beauty  
Dazzled the lustre of his wandering eye:  
Forcing his heart devote obsequious duty,  
Unto the wonder of her deity.  
Herein was Cupid blind, who else could see  
Love now captived his heart, which erst was free.   

Love hath no power ere he gain his rest,  
But to impawn, swear, promise, and protest;  
Alas, what is it then that men in bed  
Will not vow, urge, to gain a maiden head:  
Which being got, they ever after stand  
Devoted to their Ladies dear command.   
Then what man of reason is he, who would be so unreasonable in his own desires, to wish himself obstinately foolish; or think himself foolishly wife: by ●●●●…ining his own dissolute enfranchisement, in the boundless limits of his own frantic wilfulness? such and of such nature are they, who in the rancorous spleens of an unprevailing rancour, durst not only in the malice of their tongues to speak, but in the venom of their hearts, to copy out whole pamphlets against the dignity of the female sex: either without respect that they themselves came from a woman, or without regard that a woman wrought the peace for their weak-ballaced souls: (oh but say such) had not a woman been the tempter and efficient of our fall, we had not needed a redemptions: alas silly betrayers of your own folly? wretched blasphemers against the perfection of nature? can ye not or will ye not understand that the blessing of this fall, is salvation? assurance of heaven? certainty of joys? yes it is doubtlessly probable that women are, Nature's pride, virtues ornaments, Angels on earth, worthy to be served, Saints in heaven, Memorable to be registered.  
Ne ij sunt amore digni,  
Quos indignos reijcit amor.  
Would any man live happy in content of mind? fortunate in prosperity of content? singular in the repute of account? blessed in being enriched with earth's rarest blessing? let him then ennoble his deserts, by deserving to be beloved: of whom? of popular opinion or unstable vulgar dependences? no, but of love itself a woman. Would any be miserable? let him be excluded from the favour of beauty; & it is a misery incomparable, a torment unspeakable, a death, yea a hell insufferable. How then comes it to pass that some vain oppugners of love think? that by serving of a lady, they themselves both honour in their love, and aught to be honoured for loving of their beloved? it is easily answered, by the imperfection of their manhood, and pride of their gross erroneous folly. For this in the rules of affection is text, Whosoever truly love, and are truly of their ladies beloved, aught in their service to employ their endeavours; more for the honour and deserving the continuance of their ladies good will, than any way to respect the Free-will of their own heedless dispositions, else are they degenerate Bastards, and Apostates, revolting from the principals, and principal rules of sincere devotion. It is not enough for any man that hath by long suit, tedious imprecations, jeopardous hazard, toil of body, grief of mind, pitiful laments, obsequious fawn, desperate passions, and passionate despair; at length for a meed or requital to his unrest, gained the favourable acceprance, of his most and best desired lady: it is not I say then enough, for such a man to think, that by his penance in obtaining, he hath performed a Knight's service having obtained: but he must thenceforth, as much employ his industry to preserve. For well said the Poet whosoever said it, Non minor est virtus quam quaerere parta tueri.  
Perfect service, and serviceable loyalty, is seen more clearly in deserving love and maintaining it, than in attempting or labouring for it. How can any one be said truly to serve, when he more respects the liberty of his own affections, than the imposition of Lady's command? to attain happiness, and then neglect it is but an unhappy negligence, a negligent unhappiness: it is an unthankful ingratitude, than which nothing can be to heaven more heinous, & in the regard of men more detestable. Herein are certain chuffs differing from the glorious nature of gentility; who having stumbled upon the rarity of beauty, are cloyed in their own delicacies: not prising the invaluable jewel of what they possess, not esteeming the benefit of their precious felicity: but like swine touse pearl without respect, when as generous spirits glory in their ample fortune: and subject themselves to their chiefest glory, for to be a deserving servant to a deserved lady, is liberally to enjoy heaven on earth. If therefore the scope of mortality consist in the fruition of imparadised content, or a contented paradise? how requisite is it, that Knights (for under these titles of honour, do I conclude true lovers) should lose the freedom of their own wills, to be serviceable to the wills of their choicest ladies? who can serve two Masters? who can be a master of himself, when he is a servant to his lady? but either he scorns the humility due to her, or affects a singularity to himself, if the one, he is no servant; if the other, an unfit lover Why? for because a true lover must frame his actions to the behests of his lady, and magnifying her worthiness. Hence is it said, and truly said, Knights in lady's service have no free-will: that is, they ought not to be their own, nor subject to their own pleasure, unless to please themselves in the recreation which tendeth to their lady's honour. How pithily said a wise man, Non amare decet, at amari praestat.  
To love, is common to sensuality; but to be beloved, is the crown of desert; they best deserve to be beloved, who deserve love; and they principally deserve love, who can moderate their private affection, and level the scope of desert, to the executing their ladies command, and adorn their names by martial feats of arms. As for instance, Paris defended Helen with the loss of his life: Troilus would fight for Cresseida: Aenaeas won Lavinia with the dint of his weapon, and sweat of blood: Paelops hazarded his life for Hippodamia, yea what better example than of late in our own territory? that noble untimely cropped spirit of honour, our english Hector, who cared not to undergo any gust of spleen, and censure, for his never-sufficiently admired Opia, a perfect Penelope to her ancient knight Ulysses, he an unfeigned Ulysses to her, for whose sake neither the wiles of Circe's, or enchantments of Sirens, or brunt of wars, could force or entice to forgetfulness. But examples may seem rather tedious than convenient, I leave the certainty of them to their authors, with this proviso, that what is manifest, needs no commentary. Now then considering the perfections of ladies, have been both informer and modern ages, so resonant through every climate of the world: what dull spirit? what leaden apprehension hath he? that would be more curious, to undertake the yoke of their service, then forward to participate their beauties. Lentulus' the Roman warrior, after all his conquests abroad, was willingly captived and conquered at home; insomuch as at the first view of Terentia, he feared not to say, Non bellum, non fortuna: Fate cannot limit, war cannot subdue the efficatie of love.  

The fleeting pashions of disloyal minds,  
Proceeds from wrong directed scope of lust,  
Inconstant change beseems grosse-feeding hinds,  
In whose deserts is neither faith, or trust.  
When noble spirits in the bonds of duty,  
Pay tribute to the excellence of beauty.   

For gentle temper of a freer blood,  
Count's bondage to a lady willing pleasure,  
Adoring service of best worthy good:  
And deem their toil for favour pleasing leisure:  
Not reckoning command, servility,  
But true performance, true nobility.   

To talk, converse, or daily, is not love:  
But amorous wantonness of idle play,  
Brunts of defence doth firm affection prove,  
Who would not fight when beauty is the prey?  
Then who is he who would not think he's free,  
When he's enthralled to loves captivity?   
loves captivity is freedoms enfranchisement, and whosoever is a prisoner, to the merit of fairness, is absolutely naturalised a denizen to happiness. To conclude (for in known verities many proofs are needless) a true, and truly loving knight's liberty, aught to be enchained, to the disposure of his lady: her will must be to him a law, and that law, not penal, but irrefragable. The sincerity of his tried affection, must be an obstacle to wilfulness, with due consideration, that although he be bound to undergo her pleasure, so he shall undertake no shame that may displease. For from the fair proceeds nothing but what is fair. Ladies are mild, and fearful to impose dangers: wise, and will prevent them: especially such dangers, as either may threaten inglorious dishonour, or likely peril to their beloved. Timorous they are of the worst, careful (and in that care ambitious) for the best. Nature made them Females, virtuously kind, women, angelically virtuous: horror befits not their sex, or unthankfulness their beauties: for although war defends the right of love, yet love cannot brook the severity of war.  
Dalliance in chambers, harmless play and sport,  
Do with the sweets of love, much better sort.  
Since than ladies are moulded of this temper, and tempered in the mould of love, mildness, and kindness: what is that Knight that would not be their captive? insomuch as the bluntest cynic, must in reason avow, that it is most reason, that Knights in Lady's service have no Free-will.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable the Earl of Arundel. Second Position.  
Beauty is the Maintainer of Valour.  
RIGHT HONOURABLE.  
IT is no prejudice to the precious clarity of knowledge, even in undoubted truths, to make truth more doubtless, for in matters of wrong, arguments do confound sense, when in explanation of right, they do senceably approve it. 'tis good; Mystery in demonstration, is a confused niceness. So known is the certainty of this Position, Et domi, et foris, that whosoever would seem ignorantly strange, would but bewray his strangely rude ignorance in seeming so. Beauty (say we) is the maintainer of Valour: Who is so blunt as knows it not? who is so blockish as will not (and may with justice) defend it? an instance even in the entrance shall be no absurdity. In the infancy of the Roman Empire, (as Plutarch to the purpose rehearseth) the Romans violently seized upon the Sabines ladies: by violence they won them, by valour they justified their winning; insomuch as ever after betwixt these warlike Nations began both increase of hatred, and defiance of hostility. In which times Kissing had his first original, devised by the Sabine ladies, as an earnest-peny of desert, to the guerdon of the Romans desperate toil. For although in the eyes of some more Stoical censures, Kissing seems but a needless ceremony, yet in the feeling of love, it is the first taste of love, the first certainty of hope, the first hope of obtaining, the first obtaining of favour, the first favour of grant, the first grant of assurance, the first & principallest assurance of affection; the first shadow of the substance of after contented happiness, happy pleasure, pleasing heaven; but to our matter. Men for the most part (some more heroical inclinations by nature excepted) are in the frailty of their humanity, so fearful of harms, and so desirous of the preservative of life: as although not the discouragement of cowardice, yet proper instinct of mortality, will deter them from wilful, and imminent running into peril. Some again are of that frozen and cold temperature of disposition, as according to the proverb, they esteem it provident safety, to sleep in a whole skin. Of this imbecility are many, who have only enjoyed, the lazy softness of vicious ease; and never felt, at least never conceited the touch of any misery, no not of gentility. The self alone means therefore, that were to be ordained, for a provocation, and incitement to livelihood of manhood was, the quintessence, rarity, yea rare quintessence of divine astonishment, Beauty: upon whose al-perfection, the greedy eye of desire (even in spirits of clay and mud) being sixth, hath stirred up such a ravishment of possession, as they now esteem all dangers weak; nay, all impossibilities facilities, to possess it. That Cardinall-vertue of invincible fortitude, had long since been levelled with cowardice, had not beauty the alarm to magnanimity, rend the distrust of weakness and strengthened it with contempt of precedency; emulation of desert. Say then, how probable is it? how indubitate hereditary is the dependence of Valour, to the merit of beauty? Beauty! which pricks on the slowest, encourageth the faint-hearted, sharpens the dull, commandeth the stoutest, recreateth the weary, and guerdoneth the deserving. Beauty! the largesse of the Gods; the comfort of men; the bounty of heaven; the prize of earth; the paradise of glory; the Vialactea to felicity; the wonder of itself, beauty. This is that Achilles impenetrable shield, which every Ulysses pleads for, every Ajax fights for; this is that golden fleece, which the Argonauts sued to find, which jason toiling enjoyed. This is that famoused Trophy, which Philip would have his son Alexander in the games of Olympus to wrestle for. How much are they deceived (I mean these fainter bloods) who vainly imagine, that soldiers fight for spoil only; Generals hazard their persons for greediness; Seamen traffic for avarice: Knights wander for prey, or that any ieopards his life, chiefly for lucre. Does not the merchant venture shipwreck to return with a present, that may purchase his Ladies liking? and in her liking his own bliss? does not the soldier fight abroad to preserve his lady in safety at home? does not the general command, that he may return with victory gracious in his Lady's eyes? does not the Knight errant attempt threatenings of horror? adventures of dread? thunder of death itself? only to rumour his fame in the cares of his lady? does he not range for the succour of beauty? for the freedom of beauty? for the joy of beauty? and all spoil that the soldier bleeds for, all the greediness that commanders sweat for, all the avarice that the Merchant trade's for, all the prey that the Knight adventures for, all the benefit that every one and all of these hope, wish, pray, contend for, is the fruition of Beauty: than which nothing can be more grateful, nothing is so acceptable.  Valour. 

Through streams of blood and massacres of death,  
I spend the troubles of a glorious breath.  
In feats of arms and life's dread desperation,  
I touse to gain me Fame and Reputation.  
All that I strive for, is to comprehend  
Honour; to honour all my labours tend.   Honour. 

Valour doth aim at me, I aim at Beauty,  
And make my greatness greater by my duty.  
Valour doth fight for me, when all my prize  
consists in favour of sweet Beauties eyes.  
Honour sustaineth Valour: when again  
Beauty feeds Honour: and in that them twain.   Beauty. 

Mean-bred deserts who covet much ambition,  
Having attained it, ever grow ambitious:  
Soaring to gain my love, in whose tuition  
Their greatness is advanced, and made propitious:  
I strengthen cowards, and exalt the spirits  
Of weakness, I maintain proud chivalry:  
In me the drifts of Honour pledge their merits:  
To guerdon and discern worths dignity:  
And but for me they brunts of hazard loath:  
Honour pays Valour: Beauty rules them both.   
The whole scope that Valour, and men of valiant courage aim their drifts at, is for the most part a famous name, and reputed Honour: but the mark which honour directs his level to, is to participate the delightful sweets of sweetest Beauty, which in all succeeding posterities, hath been of so powerful and powerfully respected awe, that for the hopes, which men have evermore conceived of enjoying it, they have with accoutrements of defence been priest, for fear of losing, to preserve it. Beauty! why it is the life of magnanimity, it is the perfect spark, whose lustre reflecteth boldness to the timorous. Beauty! what is it? what can it else be? but the model of all fortitude, for this proof (unless I be mistaken as I am not) did the antiquaries of the elder world, such as were Martialists, attribute all worship unto Pallas, all adoration to Bellona, reverencing her as the Goddess of arms, yet she a woman. Fair she was, else in vain would she strive with Venus for the golden ball: valiant she was, else with foolish superstition, did the ancient best Warriors adore her, and the younger Sophies allow her, yes, yes, she was wise, beautiful, and valiant, including this moral, that as she had courage, so was she a woman, whose force was not more fierce to terrify, but her Beauty was as piercing to wound. Did they applaud her martial disposition? true, but they did reverence her amiable looks, most certain it is, the valiant may and do contend with the valiant, but Beauty hath the mastery of both.  Audentes forma cogit audaces. 
Love breathes more resolution into the forwardness of the resolved; for never have we read, never heard of any undaunted Champion, who being free in his own affections, did strive so much by perilous exploits, to adorn the rumour of fame; but if he after were blest, by being an entertained servant to some worthy lady, those dangers which before seemed dangers, he would now deem easy, and all easy achievements, toys, only that should then be most honourable, which threatened most terror. Hercules' valued the swimming over the Sea, to breed wonder in Deianeira, not for that he desired to do it, but because she should admire, and commend the deed. Why do spruce courtiers, practise courtlike activity? but to breed delight to their Ladies. why do men in general contend to exceed in bravery? but to be noted the bravest of their ladies. Why do cormorants hoard treasure? but to attract some ladies liking Why do poor men toil? great men traverse? but all to one end, to share Beauty. why do Kings and greatest Princes, thirst to enlarge their empires and dominions? but to be noted for more eminent, and more to be loved for that eminence of their ladies. Let us look into all the devoyres of mankind, and they all tend to the content of Beauty: Men to honour men, is rather a bootless fear, then in regardful love; but for men to be honoured of ladies, is the scope of all felicity. Men in kindness are mutually lambs, but in corrivall-shipp of love, Lions. Should I fight for my friend, I might be appeazed in my choler, but for my lady, I am inexorable.  Chalibs mihi circa pectus. 
The tears of widows, the cries of babes, the condolement of Parents, the entreaties of Children, the wounds of the maimed, the wrack of the oppressed, cannot move pity in a steeled heart, which fights for report in the honour of his lady. It is said of the Turks they train their youth in discipline of war, with intent of cruelty, believe it I cannot be persuaded, that being so absolute warriors, they should so wholly be murderous tyrants, except to return with triumph in the sight of their ladies. Tamburlaine, the scourge of God, and savadgest monster of his time; never made a slaughter upon any of his conquered captives, but the principallest he ever sent as slaves to his queen Zenocrate, intending that as she was the deity, who infused strength into his arms: so she should be the whole glory of his triumph.  
Pax ruat in bellum, sociumque in praelia faedus:  
Causa subit; nulla fronte regendus Amor.  
How requisite it is then for a kingdom, which would be fortified with choice of magnanimous spirits, to be also enriched with the ornament of Beauty: the expediency in occasions of necessity makes evident. I have often marveled why the Romans (famous for their loves) going to battle against a world of so many nations, as they did, for more surety of victory, had not carried their ladies with them: that by the sight of them their enfeebled strength, might (like the head of Hydra) doubly have renewed. Doubtless had julius Caesar, at his first arrival for the conquest of Britain, brought with him Cleopatra, he would never have twice suffered so shameful a repulse. What infinite examples might here be alleged, for the probation, that Beauty hath evermore instigated audacity to the dullest? finally in the apprehension of common reason, let every man examine himself, whether it be not the immediate nourisher of all fortitude? It is, it hath been, and ever willbe the nurse, and food of heroical chivalry, for valour not seasoned with the hopes of love, is an irresolute valour. A soldier, and libertine, is an un armed soldier? Beauty is the spur to Honour; Honour the serviceable attendant on Beauty, yet will some homebred poring Academic say, it is the only means to make a warrior a flat coward: for Beauty allures to delights, delights to ease, ease consequently the fosterer to discouraged pusillanimity: but let such an unexperienced plodder know, it is as difficult for him to censure of courage, as it is easy for the courageous to scorn his censure, or indeed rather pity his ridiculous folly in censuring, as Hannibal did Phormio, when he would read him a lecture of war, who had ever been trained in the wars: as if a mild lover may not dally at home in a cabinet, yet the self same be a severe soldier in the field. Let therefore every man of reason, be reasonable in understanding, and where he cannot contradict, confess that the truth is greatest & chief prevaileth, principally when arms will justify, what arguments confirm, and arguments again reciprocally corroborate what arms (on the behalf of justice) doth maintain, and rightly maintain, that merely of itself, Beauty is the maintainer of Valour.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable the Earl of Pembroke. Third Position.  
Fair Lady was never false.  
RIGHT HONOURABLE.  
THe temperature of the mind follows the temperature of the body. Which certain axiom (says that sage Prince of Philosophers Aristotle) is ever more infallible. Then do not I a little marvel, what arrogant spleen of malediction with teeth of ivyceles envy; durst to detract from the worthiness of Beauty? terming it a particular blessing, bestowed for a more general curse. Terming it fickle, deceitful, inconstant, when if the saws of authority be authentical, nothing can be more precious, nothing in itself so virtuous. Fair Lady was never false? Oh says some curious impostor, Euge hominem? a goodly theme? much wit no doubt expected? few proofs produced? who will not swear the contrary? who will not believe the contrary as his Creed? vain foundlings, as many as so believe, doubtless shall be so deceived; and do penance for their error in the gall of their distrust. For if the temperature of the mind, follow the temperature of the body? (text it is) then without controversy, as the outward shape is more singular, so the inward virtues must be most exquisite. Nature is but the handmaid to heaven. Beauty is the rarest workmanship of Nature's power. So questionless where the hand maid of heaven hath imparted her art, the blessings of the Gods are plentifully abounding. Neither will they make that lame, which nature hath framed perfect. For why? can falsehood lie hidden under the rarity of fairness? no more than vice can lurk under the plumes of virtue; which is merely impossible. Beauty is but a fair Inn to lodge more fairer guests within. It is but the lively colour of an excellent tasting wine. It is the greatest good in itself, that heart of humanity can wish for. If deformity be the dregs and scum of earth's disgrace? if it be (as it is) the curse of the Parents transgression, laid upon the child? then contrarily, must beauty be the immediate testimony of heavens favour? why were people in times past, called Giants & Monsters? but for the ugly appearance of their shapes. Neither were they in body so misshaped, as in conditions odious. So then even in them it is manifestly verified, that foulest enormities harbour in foulest forms, than it follows, that firmest virtues, are shrouded in the fairest complexions. Some indeed oppose an argument, that Beauty of itself is a great good: but the abuse most wretched & common. Yea, so common, that the very face of beauty is a presumption: yea more, a warrant of inconstancy; to such is easily replied. Such abuse proceeds not from perfect beauty, but from the adulterate counterfeit of beauty, art. Of this nature are those that being intemperately wanton, strive with artificial cunning, to cover the defects of nature. For true beauty, as it is of itself a good, so is it in itself simple, innocent, and harmless. Into which no thought of unkindness, can penetrate: and being once subject to love, can never, will never be tempted to looseness. O strange says one! oh heresy cries another; palpably false! falsely absurd; do not Poets the pillars of your folly affirm, that Venus forsooth your only Deity of your passions, the queen of your thoughtts, the boast & goddess of your loves, was absolutely false to her husband? else had Cupid been unborn; Aenoeas unbegotten. And yet lady was never fair & false! was not Helen of Greece made a Trojan stale; a scorn to posterities, whose very name is ominous to cuckolds. Do not all chronicles of antiquity show? not only that the fair, but the fairest have proved lightest? and yet fair lady was never false. True, the Poets say so, who being themselves lasciviously addicted, thought it great inhumanity, at least injury, that Beauty should be engrossed to the proper use of one alone man. Besides if Poets are to be credited, Venus was a Goddess, not framed by nature, but issuing from the Gods, & therefore above human apprehension. Poets speak truth to warrant their writs, and so was Venus fair, they devise fictions to approve their wits; so was she immodest: with this Caveat, that she was Venus, was a troth; that she was trothless, a fiction. Also Helen was counted fair, because many affected her, procured by her enticing wantonness, inviting allurements. Courteous I think she was, & therefore beloved, fair never, for then not fickle. Indeed I acknowledge, old writers being themselves past the youth of love, & sunk into dotage, have inveighed against the dignity of that sex, not upon knowledge, but mere supposition, deeming that because the worst are haunted of the worst for their lewdness, condemn the fairest for being fair, as the principal enchantment. Now so much difference is there, betwixt the wanton & the fair, as the wanton may be beloved, but the fair, will not be wanton. It is to be supposed, that such as inclined to the lose fickleness of change, are not of that excellent temper, oftrue beauty, because than they knowing their own merit, (as women of that nature do) would be by how much the more noted, by so much the more tender of the presevation of their honours report. And somewhat precizely (pardon troth) prise their own value: Scire tuum nihilest nisi te scire hoc sciat alter. To be fair, & not admired is as a hidden mineral: yet to be admired, & not preserve that admiration, is an unvalued indignity. But as ladies are fair, so are they wise, & as they are both fair and wise; constant. Alas, most know, & many feel, that beauty is not easily wooed to love; many bitter conflicts, of oppressed griefs, are to be endured, ere they are won to listen to affection. And at length being persuaded, they were not so obdurate before to be sued to, as they are now most constant in their loves most sincerely firm to their choice. Experience teacheth it, that steel is not soon hot, yet being once fired, is less easily cooled An example or two, shall warrant the credit of the rest: who could be more industrious to his lady, than Theseus was in gaining Ariadne? who being conquered, was ever most fast to him: though injuriously; yea, perfidiously forsaken of him. Portia so inderely reverenced Cato, as she would for his preservation swallow coals. Alcestis would die for Admetus. And Penelope (the mirror of the Greek matrons, both for constancy & Beauty would never falsify her faith to Ulysses. I myself should account such proofs inconvenient, did not the proof of my defence, rely upon former instances compared both with present & latter times. Diana renowned for beauty, was more renowned for chastity, insomuch as singularly, & truly fairest ladies contended to be her nymphs, if trust to writers may be attributed: rara praeclara: according to the proverb, that the fairest are the fairest, that is the best & best to be esteemed. what is more to be urged for the ratifying our maintenance: but the exterior beauty, is assurance of the interior quality. To answer to every vain objection, that some more nice wits only seeming witty in censure and misconstruction, is not here intended, as fronti nulla fides: the fickleness of Cresseida: the mutability of some Lais: let it suffice, they are fictions & nugatory invectives, of deservingly abused poets: or repulsed Annalogers, ridiculous in the understanding of the wise: contemptible, in the perseverance of understanding. It is even as impossible for ladies of quaintest forms, to incline to thoughts of trothless impudence, as for monsters of deformity, to produce effects of virtue. Needs there any other demonstration, than the admirable (almost incredible) ornament of chastity? Lucrece the Roma dame, the paragon of those times, the mirror of those days, for ravishing perfection of beauty: harmless, unspotted Lucrece? who did withstand lust to the eternising her honour, & monumented her rape with extremity of death. who is he to obstinate in his error? so wilful in his madness? so mad in his erroneous wilfulness? as would not even in the glass of Lucresias perseverance (even to the uttermost extinct of life) see the wonder of beauty, matched with the individuat adjunct unsoyled constancy.  Constantia est gemella venustatis individua. 
Three particularities there are, that stand firm for this position: examples, already alleged: approbation of judgement newly rehearsed: and ground of troth now to be verefi'de. verefi'de said I? the self assurance of the subject, is a testimony most probable, if vice be the nourisher of vice, virtue must be the effect of virtue. that is sincerely a virtue, which is a good, & that good is Beauty, so herein fictions comprehend truth, as forma bonum: yet ere I wade further, & be gravelled in the ouze, and quick sand of my own intention, I am for the clearing of such, as may misconceit my drift, to make an Apology for my defence: neither by my just justification, of an apparent verity, the wanton shall tax my endeavours as ridiculous, knowing their own imperfections, nor challenge this, as a due belonging to the encouragement of their lenity. I confess (& blush that occasion should be ministered of confession) that many there are, whose bewitching looks, draw youth into folly, and age into dotage, rather madness: too many there are, whose smooth counterfeit, in the indiseretion of virility, may pass for Beauty: when the counterfeiters, are so mutable, as they are neither ever their own, or ever certain any on's. yea, even in great personages, this looseness is an imboldning, to the meaner: rather a precedent to the worst of offending: the greatness of their estates (I speak of some that have been) bolstereth out the community, of licentious immodesty, whose shames were they enamelled in the tabulature of their foreheads, it would be a hideous viso, to more deformed complexions, more enormous conditions. Such there are, who under the abomination of luxury, (nicely termed kindness) import the pretexted gloss of beauty's name, to such are also mercenary slaves, intimated servants, against whom, although my purpose is not to inveigh, yet do I here exclude them from out the assotiation of the fair: let those be false, beautiful they are not. In them the temperature of the body, follows the temperature of the mind: not the temperature of the mind, the temperature of the body: Of whom the philosopher insisteth. As I said before, so I here avow that the error of their enchanting amyablenes bewitcheth their adherents, who being ensnared in the nets of their lasciviousness, esteem that prime beauty which they themselves deliciously enjoy. For as the lose have no substance, but fading art to attract, so the excellently fair, have no falsehood to be soiled; no cunning to beguile; no visor to delude. They are doves without galls; swans without spots, fawns without spleen: they are simple, & will not be trained; fair & cannot be tempted: they are the pure colour of white, without stain, whose delicate ears, by profaned tongues may be enforced to hear ill, but whose unmoved breasts, by the fond cannot be inflamed to consent to ill. Herein are the beautiful said to be Angels on earth, for that as they exceed others in wonder of beauty; so they excel all other in graces of virtue: it shall not be amiss, to answer to the malevolent will of some witty malevolent detractors.  

Adverse.  
Women. o they are fickle falling stars:  
Tides in their ebbs, Moons ever in the wain,  
Frost in the thaw, saint hearted in the wars  
Of constancy, yet constant in disdain.  
Women! o they are creatures most unholly:  
Borne for a scourge to men, and curb to folly.  
Mulieri ne credas, ne mortuae quidem.   

Proof.  
Women! why they are fixed lamps of heaven,  
Shining bright lustre to the hearts of men.  
Firm diamonds, and fair, bright looks, hearts even:  
Constant in scorn of motions, where and when  
Princes for ladies praise have fell at odds,  
They are of men adored, beloved of Gods:  
The highest blessing, that to earth's uncommon,  
Is man's perfection, soul of life, a woman.  
Dijs compares foeminae.   
Every fair lady is lovely, but every lovely lady is not fair: so than the lovely may be fickle, but the fair cannot be inconstant: what should I more say; and yet what have I said that is enough? what, that can be too much? and yet is not to much? since the only experience of the subject, commendeth his own worthiness. To such then as credit it, I wish them a fair lady: to misbelievers & infidels in love this curse: may their ladies be foul, and so be loathsome, yet false, and repay them with the common crest 〈…〉   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable the Earl of Mountgomery. The fourth and last Position.  
Perfect lovers are only wise.  
Right Honourable,  
PErspicax est amatorum vigilans ocellus, praevidet adversa, studet horis convenientibus. A perfect lover is never less idle, then when he is idle: never more busied, then when least seriously employed.  

Wise seeming Censors count that labour vain,  
Which is devoted to the hopes of love,  
When they themselves, themselves much vainer prove,  
By holding Lovers labours in disdain:  
They have forgot the wiles which made them tremble,  
In heat of youth, when youth their bloods did move,  
What wit they vseed, what tears they did dissemble.   

Their now waxed shallow apprehensions, than  
Were quick to see the worst, wise to prevent it:  
How they pleased fancy, how they might content it,  
How much their hearts differed from hearts of men:  
How provident they were to fawn, to flatter,  
To swear, vow, urge their grief and to lament it:  
Alas who would not do't in such a matter.   

Love makes men wise, 'tis not a feeling kiss,  
That's the true sport, there's sport more sweet than this:  
To which, ere lovers thoroughly do attain,  
They must attend, do service, grieve, and feign.  
For this with Lady's honours best doth fit,  
Not to be conquered by Desire, but Witt.   
In all ages, both past and present, never have there been more witty policies, more politic circumventions broached then in speedy obtaining of dilatory love: which is in itself so urgent, so impatient of delays, as the soundest sleights, quaintest devices, have been studied for accomplishing, of rest to unrest, ease to disquiet, remedy to desperation. Three things trial hath taught to be expedient for mastery in love. After choice, Patience to endure reproofs, Wit to procure content, Boldness to attempt at opportunities. Vain is patience without hope: hope desperate without means: means, when occasion proffers her forelock, and women toleration: hindrance, without boldness. Yet boldness without wit, is to no use, neither without wit shall time be ever found when to be bold. In a perfect lover therefore, all these three are judicially cohered. Also if a curious surveyor will upon this approve, that lovers have been witty, yet disallow any wisdom in this wit, by distinguishing a different discrepancy betwixt wit and wisdom, since the one tendeth only to folly of humanity, the other to consideration of divinity, I will answer, that perfect Lovers, even in this respect are perfectly wise, as with ease thus: being overcome with the affection, of some excellently deserving beauty, with admitation of the singular perfection thereof, with what curious workmanship it is framed, with what glory of Majesty it is endowed: it is an immediate occasion, to bring them in serious conceit, of weighing the wonders of the heavens in compacting such admirable quintessence, in so precious a form, by which they will deeply revolve the dignity of GOD in that mould, and truly acknowledge the weakness of their own nature, in comparison of Beauty. This is the ready and directest course, to force men to consider their own frailty, and magnify the omnipotency of their creator, in fashioning both. So as Love is the only line which leadeth man to the font of Wisdom; that is, to the glorifying of heavens power, and confessing man's imbecility. Who then can deny? who will not allow? that Perfect Lovers are only wise? only wise! true, for men devoted to contemplation of Theology, are withdrawn from the absolute, & due reverence (sometime) of him to whom they chief own all due reverence, by human affairs: when Lovers have evermore the Idea of Peauty in their imaginations, and therefore hourly do adore their maker's Architecture. Perfect Lovers are only wise: now again to humanity: the dullest wit, the most unseasoned capacity, being once salted with the taste of love, sharpens his dullness, and seasons his capacity, to study any sleight, any device for setting a period to his desires. Insomuch, as no time shall ever present any opportunity of study, but all invention is used, all conceits employed, for the fruition of his beloved: who being enjoyed, yet his wits are never idle, but industrious for conservation of what he enjoys, as loath to impart from that which with so much vigilancy he not easily obtained. As hitherto I have proceeded with demonstration of examples: so now (to the purpose) will I infer an instance, to the more effectual proof of this. The Greeks' after the discursion of Helen, preparing an expedition against Troy, both for acquittance of their injury, and recovery of their false (never truly fair) Queen, stood not in more need of Achilles for his courage, then of Ulysses for his counsel: who being then newly married, to his perfectly fair Penelope, was upon good cause (moved in the tenderness of his love) unwilling to that action: but excuse could not prevail, except policy could find excuse: he fears much, but loves more, which love even at an instant ripens his invention: Love ripeneth his invention, he feigns madness, and for madness to advise in sober actions, would prove but a mad advise, an unadvised madness. but he was discovered and went. Secondly, what undoubted wisdom in him, did charm his ears, against the incantations of the Sirens: the devout affection which he bore to his Penelope, quickening his apprehension. Was ever man a truer lover? and ever man more truly wise? It is infallibly certain, certainly infallible, perfect lovers are only wise. Now it may be cavilled, that that cannot be, for how can Lovers be wise, when Love itself is both vain, idle, and foolish? a toy? a mere conceit of fancy? But how vain, foolish, idle, and fantastical are they that so conceive? Love is the only band, the alone obligation, that traffics betwixt earthly creatures and heavenly Angels, that unites woman to man, yea man to man, nay man to himself, and himself to God. Love is the dignity of man's worth, not a blind Cupid, a sensual lust, as Poets feign: but an earnest and reasonable desire of good, as authorities confirm. It is an entire convinction of souls together.  

Mutua sors animi, pia commutatio mentis,  
sub fido fidum est pectore pignus Amor.  
Quid magis est placidum? nihil est faelicius illo;  
Pax jucunda, manus splendida, tuta quies.  
Fulget in auricoma nitido cum robore forma:  
Ipsa suasplendens gaudet Amore Venus.   

Love is that tickling blood, which softly creeps,  
Into the pleasures of a quiet breast:  
Presenting pretty drcames in flumbring sleeps,  
Andin a Lady's bosom takes his rest.  
Love bath's him in the channel of delight,  
Which lovers sigh for, and wish they also might.   

Of twenty thousand it is the wittiest passion,  
Wise, in foreseeing of ensuing care:  
Makes lovers provident, yields consolation,  
And checks the bad from ill, if so they dare.  
Love is that fountain, where the springs do lie,  
Whence sweetest waters run, yet never dry.   

Love is that harmless prick, in pleasant brier.  
Which doth most please the sent, and breed desire.   
Thus much for satisfaction of the witty. Now briefly follows for a conclusion to the wise. lovers are perfect wise, and simply perfect: indeed absolutely perfect, insomuch as nothing is more expedient to the full accomplishment of a wise man, then to be a Lover. Now would any man seem to oppose himself, to the adverse maintaining of what hath already been proved? it will be evident, he shall more toil his brains to affirm an untruth, than the praise or commendation he expects, with a general Plaudite will countervail. If any champion will likewise be desperate hardy, to undertake a disallowance, of these chalienged positions, questionless he need not doubt, but he shall not sooner be armed, but as soon foiled, and in the vulgar confession of shame, acknowledge his dearly bought wilfulness. But I leave that to trial. I here mean to be a pen man, no champion.   

Conclusion.  
WOuld any man be gracious in a Lady's favour? let him then subject himself to her wil Would any be valiant and renowned for chivalty? let him serve under the colours of beauty. Would any strive to be blessed in having a Lady truly constant? let him choose her truly fair. Would any be perfectly wise? let him be perfectly loving. Would any be happy? courageous? singular? or provident? let him be a lover. In that life consisteth all happiness, all courage, all glory, all wisdom. But as for such, who do frigescere ad ignem, I do desist to inveigh against their cold spirits: only in this, I hate them, that I pity them.  

He who will strive to please each curious eye,  
Must freeze in sdence. But I care not I,  
Let better favours favour mine endeavour,  
The vulgartaunting shall affright me never.  
May it please you, to whom it is intended.  
Then  
'tis glory to deserve, though not commended.  
Non omnibus studeo.  
non malevolis.    
FINIS   

THE Monarches meeting, Or The King of Denmark's welcome, into England.  

NOw had the harvest of the year brought forth,  
The blessed fruit of long expected hope,  
And leveled with the toil of labours worth,  
The crop of fatness, to the trad's-mans' scope.   

Now were the blossoms ripened to the hand,  
Of well deserving sweat: when all anon,  
The mighty ruler of a peaceful land,  
Began to take his wished progression.   

Calm was the sea, and gentle gusts did blow,  
A whistling gale unto the flags of peace:  
Full were the streams, and smooth soft tides did flow,  
And gave assurance of contented ease.   

When on the bubbling beauty of fair Thames,  
(Urged by the princely love of amity)  
A Christian King, in state, and majesty,  
Was entertained with sundry shows of games.   

The silver Crystal stream, was proud to bear,  
The burden of a person, each way graced,  
With all the rites of human Love and Fear,  
In whose high looks, honour was lively placed.   

Much welcome was the tidings of this news,  
Unto the royal ear of worthy james:  
Preparing with all speed, that speed might use,  
With his own presence to ennoble Thames.   

Look how did jove salute the minor Gods,  
Inviting all in heaven at a feast,  
Where no more awe was reverenced, no odds,  
Betwixt his proper person and the rest.   

So did these Princes meet, in whose first meeting,  
joy was abundant in the truce of love:  
Each interchanging a concordant greeting,  
Which in the peers of both did comfort move.   

Ambitious was the river of this honour,  
Knowing the value of the weight she bore:  
Graced that such favour Kings bestowed upon her,  
Bearing a richer burden near before.   

Kings met, and Kings saluted one another,  
Either rejoicing in the others sight:  
Princes with Princes, brother joyed with brother,  
Each solacing the other with delight.   

A goodly view of Majesty it was,  
To see such intimated league betwixt them:  
They strived in kindness how they might surpass,  
Sporting the season which the tide prefixed them.   

Like to a Prince in every point aright,  
He came, and like a Prince was entertained:  
With all the types of dignity bedight,  
with all the friendship, friendship could have claimed.   

O what a gladsome sight of joy it is?  
When monarchs so are linked in amity?  
How strengthened are those Empires with safe bliss,  
Where two such Princes join in unity?   

Great both are in dominions, yet more great,  
In being virtuously religious:  
Fresh blooming piety doth praise beget,  
In godly zeal. Let tyrants be litigious?   

What He amongst the stoutest of contempt?  
Full in command? and fuller in disdain?  
Durst any threats of en'mity attempt?  
Or to oppose himself against those twain?   

Those twain! so firmly are they matched together,  
So everlastingly affectionate.  
So individually combined together,  
As they love none of both, who do one hate.   

Power with power, realm with realm united,  
hearts joined with hearts, and hand embraced in hand:  
Should all the world of nations be excited,  
Yet all the world could scarce those two withstand.   

Nor is it feigning show of smooth pretext,  
But doubtless troth of love which brought him hither:  
Let none with such suspicion be perplexed,  
For than they never had thus come together.   

Nor can it be supposed, a Prince so mighty,  
so worthy in himself, so absolute.  
Who hath so large a rule, a charge so weighty,  
would leave his country, but for mere repute.   

Puissant is the Danish King, and strong,  
In all the sinews of approved force:  
Valiant, and able, for to right the wrong,  
That should proceed from any eager course.   

It is no common thing seen every day,  
Scarce in an age, to see so great a state:  
From out his country's bounds to come away,  
For visitation of an neighbouring mate.   

It is no common honour, that is done  
Unto our happy land by his arriving:  
Much worth thereby, and glory have we won,  
Our homebred hearts, with stranger loves reviving.   

Two Kings in England have been rarely seen,  
Two Kings for singularity renowned:  
The like before hath hardly ever been,  
for never were two with more honour crowned.   

This may we boast, and after times report,  
How much the King of Denmark graced our age:  
A King of so much eminence, such port,  
By his arrival did his love engage.   

England with Denmark, Denmark eke with us,  
Are firmly now in league, conjoined in one:  
Seven Kingdoms now again united, thus  
Are strengthened, so as stronger can be none.  
Then as a certain and well-wishing greeting,  
We thus applaud the monarches happy meeting.   

Hail Princely stem of great magnificence?  
Issue of royal blood, who dost commence  
True instance of thy fast undoubted love,  
And by thy coming certainly approve  
The pledge of peace, thus low in humblest heart  
Regreetes unto thy truce do we impart.  
With fit applause our thanks devoutly running,  
Gives welcome to the honour of thy coming.  
Time cannot raze, nor amity surcease  
Betwixt our realm and thine a long lived peace.  
Whiles thoughts are undefiled, and credit true,  
From age to age this league will still renew.  
And thou thyself (great King of Danes wilt joy,  
Counting the hazards which thou didst employ  
Dangers of thanks: by tasting approbation  
Of spotless friendship with our willing nation.  
We are not subtle French, to fawn and flatter:  
Nor Spaniard's hot in show, yet cold in matter.  
Trothless Italian fleeting Irish wiles,  
(Whose trust when most protesting most beguiles)  
We deem dishonour. German policies,  
Or ever changing Indian sopperies  
We spurn. Know we are English hating wrongs,  
Bearing our thoughts deciphered in our tongues.  
Rather the sun may in his courses alter,  
Then we in true-meant trust our promise falter:  
Which of our chiefest emulating foes  
Can justly tax us? but we ever chose  
To die with fame, then live with infamy,  
Purchased with disesteemed treachery.  
What needs an instance? rumour will avow,  
We have our troth engraven in our brow.  
" Who are in nature, false ye free in name,  
" Are servile slaves to fear, and fools to shame.  
What more? we are thy friends, and thou art our,  
Thy love is ours, and our force thy power.  
Long may this happy thread of faith be woven,  
And near have dissolution but with heaven.  
Fatal and joyous doth the knot begin,  
Than who doth break it first, commits first sin.  
Lo then great monarch, with what words of zeal,  
Thy coming we embrace, and hopes reveal  
Of linked conjunction: priest to gratify  
That love, which thou with love dost ratify.  
Here speaks the clamour of a public voice,  
Which speaking, all do publicly rejoice  
Thy safe arrival: England thanks the honour,  
Which by thy presence thou bestowest upon her.  
Sounding loud Echoes of thy Kingly fame,  
And making trophies, to adorn thy name.  
The Clarions breathe thy welcome, Bells do ring,  
Praise shouts, whiles all thy friends thus sweetly sing.   

The applause Song for the King of Denmark's arrival.  

IN the most happy season of the year,  
When fairest sunshine glisteren on the earth,  
The royal King of Denmark did appear,  
And tuned the hearts of England full with mirth:  
In goodly majesty, and princely cheer,  
Even in the fullest crop of harvest's birth:  
When birds with pleasant notes did sweetly sing,  
To give a hearty welcome to the King.  
Prettily, prettily,  
With music sweet,  
Did Philomele merrily,  
and joyfully,  
and ever prettily,  
The noble King of Denmark greet.  
Welcome to England, Prince of high degree,  
And all our song shall ever welcome be.   

Our King himself rejoiced in his sight,  
His presence to the Court did breed delight,  
Blithe was the country, and the City proud.  
Cornets with trumpets, shrill did blow, and loud.  
To welcome to our land,  
With hearty greeting:  
(By our King's command)  
The monarchs meeting.  
Which we fulfilling,  
With love and minds willing,  
Joined together,  
Welcome hither,  
Friendly,  
and ever  
kindly,  
The Danish King, a Prince of high degree,  
For all our song shall ever welcome be.  
To welcome all our notes, and love doth tend,  
In that sense we began, with that we end.   Cantibus & carmine.  
FINIS.