THere dwelt in Athens a young gentle­man of great patrimonie, & of so comely a personage, that it was doubted whe­ther he were more bound to Nature for the liniaments of his person, or to for­tune for the encrease of his possessions. But Nature impatient of comparisons, and as it were disdaining a companion, or copartner in hir working, added to this comlinesse of his body suche a sharpe ca­pacitie of minde, that not onely shée proued [...] Fortune counterfaite, but was halfe of that opinion that she hir selfe was onely currant. This younge gallant, of more wit then wealth, and yet of more wealth then wisdome, séeing himselfe inferiour to none in pleasa [...]t concei [...]s, thought himselfe superiour to al in honest conditions, in­somuch y ^t he déemed himselfe so apt to all things, that he gaue himselfe almost to nothing, but practising of those things cōmonly which are incident to these sharp wits, fine phrases, smoth quipping, merry taunting, vsing iest­ing without meane, & abusing mirth without measure. As therefore the swéetest Rose hath his prickel the finest veluet his brack, the fairest [...]lowre his [...]an so the shar­pest witte hath his wanton will, and the holiest heade his wicked waye. And true it is that some men write and most men beléeue, that in all perfecte shapes, a blemmish bringeth rather a liking euery way to the eyes, then a loathing any waye to the minde. Ve­nus had hir Mole in hir chéeke which made hir more amiable, Helen hir scarre on hir chinne which Pa­ris called Cos amoris, the Whetstone of loue. Ari­stippus his wart, Lycurgus his wenne: So likewise in the disposition of y ^e minde, eitheir vertue is ouershad­dowed with some vice [...] or vice ouercast with some ver­tue. [Page] Alexander valiaunt in warre, yet gyuen to wine. Tulli [...] eloquent in his gloses, yet vayneglori­ous: Salomon wyse, yet to too wanton: Dauid holye, but yet an homicide: none more wittie then Euphues, yet at the first none more wicked. The freshest co­lour [...] soonest fade, the téenes [...] Rasor soonest tourneth his edge, the finest cloathe is soonest eaten wyth Moathes, and the Cambricke sooner stained then the course Canuas: whiche appeared well in this Eu­phues, whose witte béeinge lyke waxe apte to receiue any impression, and hauinge the bridle in hys owne handes either to vse the raine or the spurre, disday­ning counsayle, leauinge his countrey, loathinge his olde acquaintance, thought either by wytte to obteyne some conquest, or by shame to abyde some conflicte, and leauing the rule of reason, rashly ranne vnto de­struction.

It hath bene an olde sayed sawe, and not of lesse truth then antiquitie, that witte is the better if it bée the déerer bought: as in the sequele of thys histo­rie shall moste manifestlye appeare. It happened thys young Impe to ariue at Naples (a place of more pleasure then profite, and yet of more profite then pietie) the very walles and windowes whereof shew­ed it rather to bée the Tabernacle of Venus, then the Temple of Vesta.

There was all things necessary and in redinesse that myght eyther allure the minde to luste, or entice the hearte to follye, a courte more méete for an A­theyst, then for one of Athens, for Ouid then for Aristotle, for a gracelesse louer then for a godly ly­uer: more fitter for Paris then Hector, and méeter for Flora then Diana.

Héere my youthe (whether for wéerinesse hée [Page 2] coulde not, or for wantonnesse woulde not goe anye further) determined to make hys abode: whereby it is euidently séene that the fleetest fishe swallow­eth the delicatest bayte, that the highest soaring Hawke trayneth to the lure, and that the wittiest skonce is inuegled wyth the soddeyne viewe of alluringe vani­ties.

Héere hée wanted no companions whiche courted hym continuallye wyth sundrye kindes of deuises, whereby they myght eyther soake hys purse to reape commoditie, or sooth hys person to wynne credite, for hée had guestes and companions of all sortes.

There frequented to his lodging and mancion house as well the Spider to sucke poyson, of his fine wyt, as the Bée to gather hunny, as well the Drone, as the Doue, the Foxe as the Lambe, as well Damocles to betraye hym, as Damon to bée true to hym: Yet hée behaued hymselfe so warilye, that hée coulde single out hys game wiselye, insomuche that an olde Gentleman in Naples séeinge hys pregnaunt wytte, his Eloquent tongue somewhat tauntinge, yet wyth delight, his myrthe wythout measure, yet not wythout wytte, hys sayinges vai [...]eglorious, yet pythie, beganne to bewayle hys nurture: and to muse at hys Nature, béeinge incensed agaynste the one as most pernicious, and enflamed wyth the other as moste precious: for hée well knewe that so rare a wytte woulde in tyme eyther bréede an intollerable trouble, or bringe an incomperable Treasure to the common weale: at the one hée greatly pittied, at the other he reioysed.

Hauinge therefore gotten opportunitie to com­municate with him hys minde, wyth watrye eyes, [Page] as one lamentinge his w [...]ntonnesse, and smilinge face, as one louinge his wittinesse, encountred him on thys manner.

Young gentleman, although my acquaintaunce bée small to intreate you, and my authoritie lesse to com­maund you, yet my good-will in giuing you good coun­saile should induce you to beléeue mée, and my hoarie haires (ambassadors of experience) enforce you to follow mée, for by howe much the more I am a straunger to you, by so much the more you are beholdinge to mée, hauing therefore opportunitie to vtter my minde, I meane to bée importunate wyth you to followe my meaninge. As thy birth doth shewe the expresse and liuely Image of gentle bloude, so thy bringing vp sée­meth to mée to bée a greate blotte to the linage of so noble a brute, so that I am enforced to thincke that either thou dyddest want one to giue thée good instruc­tions, or that thy parentes made thée a wanton wyth to much cockeringe, either they were too foolishe in vsinge no discipline, or thou too frowarde in reiecting their doctrine, eyther they willinge to haue thée idle, or thou wylfull to bée ill employed. Dyd they not re­member that whiche no man ought to forgette, that the tender youth of a childe is lyke the temperinge of newe waxe apte to receiue any forme? Hée that wyll carry a Bull wyth Milo, must vse to carrye him a Calfe also, hée that coueteth to haue a straight trée, muste not boowe hym béeinge a twigge. The Potter fashioneth his claye when it is softe, and the Sparrowe is taught to come when hée is younge: As therefore the yron béeinge hotte receyueth any forme with the stroake of the Hammer, and kéepeth it béeinge colde for euer, so the tender witte of a childe if with diligence it bée instructed in youth, wyll with industrye vse those qualities in hy [...] age.

[Page 3]They might also haue taken example of the wise hus­bandmen, who in their fattest and most fertill grounde sowe Hempe before Wheate, a grayne that dryeth vp the superfluous moysture, and maketh the soyle more apte for corne: Or of good Gardeiners who in their curious knottes mixe Hisoppe wyth Time as ayders the one to the growth of the other, the one béeinge drye, the other moyste: or of cunning Pain­ters who for the white [...]t woorke caste the blackest grounde, to make the Picture more amiable. If therefore thy Father had bene as wise an hus­bandman, as hée was a fortunate husbande, or thy Mother as good a huswyfe as shée was a happye wyfe, if they had bene bothe as good Gardners to kéepe their knotte, as they were grafters to brynge foorth such fruite, or as cunninge Painters, as they were happie parentes, no doubte they had sowed Hempe before Wheate, that is discipline before af­faction, they had set Hisoppe wyth Time, that is man­ners wyth witte, the one to ayde the other, and to ma [...]e thy dexteritie more, they had caste a blacke grounde for their white woorke, that is, they had mix­ed threates wyth faire lookes.

But thinges past are paste callinge agayne, it is to late to shutte the stable doore when the stéede is stolen: The Troyans repented to late when their towne was spoiled: Yet the remēbraunce of thy former follies might bréede in thée a remorse of conscience, and bée a remedy against further concupiscence. But nowe to thy present tyme: The Lacedemonians were wont to shewe their children dronken men and other wicked men, that by séeinge theire filth they might shunne the lyke faulte, and auoyde suche vi­ces when they were at the lyke state. The Per­sians to make theire youth abhorre gluttonie woulde [Page] paint an Epicure sléeping with meate in his mouthe, & most horribly ouerladen with wine, that by the view of such monsterous sightes, they might eschewe the me [...]nes of the like excesse.

The Parthians to cause their youthe to loath the alluringe traines of womens wyles and deciptfull entisementes, had most curiously carued in their hou­ses a younge man blinde, besides whome was ad­ioyned a woman so exquisite, that in some mennes iudgement Pigmalions Image was not halfe so excel­lent, hauing one hande in hys pocket as notinge their thefte, and holdinge a knyfe in the other hande to cutte hys throate: If the sight of such vglye shapes caused a loathinge of the like sinnes, then my good Euphues consider their plight, and beware of thyne owne perill. Thou art héere in Naples a younge so­iourner, I an olde senior, thou a straunger, I a Ci­tizen, thou secure doubtinge no mishappe, I sorrow­full dreadinge thy misfortune. Héere mayste thou sée that which I sighe to sée, dronken sottes wallow­inge in euery house, in euery chamber, yea, in eue­ry channell, héere maiste thou beholde that whiche I cannot wythout blushinge beholde, nor wythoute blubbering vtter, those whose bellies bée their Gods, who offer their goodes as sacrifice to theyre guttes: who sléepe wyth meate in their mouthes, wyth sinne in their heartes, and wyth shame in their hou­ses.

Héere, yea, héere Euphues, maiste thou sée not the carued vi [...]arde of a lewde woman, but the incar­na [...] visage of a lasciuious wanton, not the shaddowe of loue, but the substaunce of luste: My hearte mel­teth in droppes of bloude, to sée a harlot with the one hande robbe so many cofers, and wyth the other to rippe so many corses.

[Page 4]Thou arte héere amiddest the pykes betwéene Scilla and Caribdis, readye if thou shunne Syrtes, to sincke into Semphlagades. Let the Lacedemonian, the Persian, the Parthian, yea, the Neapolitan, cause thee rather to detest suche villanie, at the sight and viewe of their vanitie.

Is it not farre better to abhorre sinnes by the remembraunce of others faultes, then by repentaunce of thine owne follies? Is not hée accompted moste wise, whome other mens harmes dooe make moste warie? But thou wylte happely saye, that although there bée many thinges in Naples to bée iustlye con­demned, yet there are some thinges of necessitie to bée commended, and as thy wyll doeth leane vnto the one, so thy wytte woulde also embrace the o­ther.

Alas Euphues by how much the more I loue the highe climbinge of thy capacitie, by so muche the more I feare thy fall. The fine christall is sooner crazed then the harde marble, the gréenest Béeche burneth faster then the dryest Oke, the fairest silke is soonest soyled, and the swéetest wine tourneth to the sharpest vineger, the pestilence doth most ryfest infect the cléerest complection, and the Caterpiller cleaueth vnto the ripest fruite, the most delicate wyt is allured with small enticement vnto vice, and moste subiecte to yeld [...] vnto vanitie, if therefore thou doe but harken to the Syrens, thou wilte bée enamoured, if thou haunte their houses and places, thou shalt be enchaunted:

One droppe of poyson infecteth the whole tunne of Wine, one leafe of Colliquintida marreth and spoyleth the whole potte of porredge, one yron Mole defaceth the whole péece of lawne: Descende into thine owne conscience, and consider wyth thy selfe [Page] the greate difference betwéene staringe and starke blinde, wit and wisdome, loue and lust. Bée merrye but with modestie, be sober but not to sulloume, bee va­liaunt but not too venterous. Let thy attyre bée come­ly but not costly, thy dyet wholesome but not excessiue, vse pastime as the woorde importeth, to passe the tyme in honest recreation: mistrust no man wythout cause, neither bée thou credulous without proofe, bée not light to followe euery mans opinion, nor obstinate to stande in thine owne conceipte. Serue God, loue God, feare God, and God wyll so blesse thée as eyther hearte can wishe or thy friendes desire. And so I ende my counsaile, beseechinge thée to beginne to followe it. Thys olde Gentleman hauinge finished his dyscourse, Euphues beganne to shape hym an aunswere in this sort.

FAther and friende (your age sheweth the one, your honestie the other) I am neither so suspitious to mistrust your good will, nor so sottishe to mislike your good counsaile, as I am therefore to thancke you for the first, so it standes mée vppon to thincke better on the latter: I meane not to cauill wyth you as one louinge sophistrye, neyther to controwle you as one hauing superioritie, the one woulde bring my talke into the suspition of fraude, the other conuince me of folly. Whereas you argue I knowe not vppon what probabilyties, but sure I am vppon no proofe, that my bringing vp shoulde bée a blemish to my birth. I aunswere, and sweare to that you were not there­in a lyttle ouershot, eyther you gaue too muche cre­dite to the report of others, or to much lybertie to your owne iudgement, you conuince my parents of péeuish­nesse, in making me a wanton, and me of leaudnesse in reiectinge correction. But so many men so many [Page 5] mindes, that may séeme in your eye odious, which in an others eye may be gratious. Aristippus, a Philoso­pher, yet who more courtely? Diogenes, a Philosopher, yet who more carterly? Who more popular then Pla­to, retayning alwayes good company? Who more en­uious then Tymon, denouncing all humaine s [...]cietie? Who so seuere as the Stoyckes, which lyke stockes were moued with no melody? Who so secure as the Epicures which wallowed in all kinde of licentious­nesse? Though all men bee made of one mettall, yet they bée not cast all in one moulde, there is framed of the selfe same clay aswell the tile to kéepe out water as the potte to containe lycour, the Sunne doth harden the durte & melt the waxe, fire maketh the gold to shine and the straw to smother, perfumes doth refresh y ^e Doue & kill y ^e Betil, & the nature of the man disposeth y ^e consent of y ^e māners. Now wheras you séeme to loue my nature & loath my nurture, you bewray your own weaknes, in thinking y ^e nature may any waies be altered by education, & as you haue ensāples to confirme your pretēce, so I haue most euident and infallyble argumentes to serue for my purpose: It is naturall for the vyne to spread, the more you seeke by arte to alter it, the more in the ende you shall augment it. It is proper for the Palme trée to mounte, the heauyer you loade it the higher it sprowteth. Though yron be made softe with fire it re­turneth to his hardnes, though the Fawlcon be reclai­med to y ^e fist she retyreth to hir haggardnes, the whelpe of a Masti [...]e will neuer be taught to retriue the Par­tridge, education can haue no shew, where the excellen­cie of nature doth beare sway. The silly Mouse will by no manner of meanes be tamed, the subtill. Foxe may well be beaten, but neuer broken from stealing his pray, if you pownde spices they smell the swéeter, sea­son the woode neuer so well the wine will taste of the [Page] caske, p [...]au [...]e and translate the crabbe trée, where, and whensoeuer it please you and it will neuer beare sweete apple.

Infinite and innumerable were the examples I coulde alleadge and declare to confirme the force of Nature, and confute these your vayne and false for­geries, were not the repetition of them néedelesse ha­uing shewed sufficient, or bootelesse séeinge those al­leadged will not perswade you. And can you bée so vnnaturall, whome dame Nature hath nourished and brought vpp so many yeares, to repine as it were a­gaynst Nature?

The similytude you rehearse of the waxe, argueth your waxinge and melting brayne, and your exam­ple of the ho [...]te and harde yron, sheweth in you but colde and weake disposition. Doe you not knowe that which all men doe affirme and knowe, that blacke will take no other coulour? That the stone Abeston being once made hotte will neuer be made colde? That fire cannot be forced downewarde? That Nature will haue course after kinde? That euery thing will dispose it selfe according to Nature? Can the Aethi­ope chaunge or alter his skinne? or the Leoparde his hewe? Is it possible to gather grapes of thornes, or [...]gges of thi [...]telles? or to cause any thinge to striue against nature?

But why go I about to prayse Nature, the whiche as yet was neuer any Impe so wicked & barbarous, a­ny Turke so vile and brutish, any beast so dull and sencelesse, that coulde, or would, or durst disprayse or contemne? Doth not Cicero conclude and allowe, that if wée followe and obey Nature we shall neuer erre? Doth not Aristotle alleadge and confirme, that Na­ture frameth or maketh nothing in any poynte rude, [Page] vayne, and vnperfect?

Nature was had in such estimation and admirati­on among the Heathen people, that she was reputed sor the onely Goddesse in Heauen: If Nature then haue largely and bountefully endewed mée with hir giftes, why déeme you me so vntoward and gracelesse? If she haue dealte hardely with me, why extoll you so muche my birth? If Nature beare no sway, why vse you this adulation? If Nature worke the effecte, what booteth any education? If Nature be of strength or force, what auaileth discipline or nurture? If of none what hel­peth Nature? But lette these sayings passe, as knowne euidently and graunted to be true, which none can or may deny vnlesse he be false, or that he bée an enemye to humanitie.

As touchinge my residence and abidinge héere in Naples, my youthly and lusty affections, my sportes and pleasures, my pastimes, my common dalyaunce, my delyghtes, my resorte and company, and compani­ons, which dayly vse to visite mée, althoughe to you they bréede more sorrowe and care, then solace and comforte, bicause of your crabbed age: yet to mée they bring more comforte and ioy, then care & griese, more blisse then bale, more happines then heauines: bicause of my youthfull gentlenes. Eyther you would haue all men olde as you are, or els you haue quite forgotten y ^t you your selfe were young [...] or euer knew young dayes: eyther in your youth you were a very vicious and vn­godly man, or now being aged very supersticious & de­uoute aboue measure.

Put you no difference betwéene the younge flouri­shinge Baye trée, and the olde withered Béeche? No kinde of distinction betwéene the waxinge and the wayninge of the Moone? And betwéene the risinge [Page] and the settinge of the Sunne? Doe you measure the hotte assaultes of youth, by the colde skirmishes of age? whose yeares are subiect to more infirmities then our youth, we merry [...] you melancholy, wée zealous in affec­tion, you ielous in all your dooinges, you testie without cause, wee hastie for no quarrell. You carefull, we care­lesse, wee volde, you fearefull, we in all pointes contrary vnto you and ye in all pointes vnlike vnto vs.

S [...]eing therefore we bée repugnaunt eache to the other in nature, woulde you haue vs alyke in qualyties? Woulde you haue one potion ministred to the bur­ni [...]g Feuer, and to the colde [...]alseye? one playster to an olde [...]ssue and a fresh wounde? one salue for all sor [...]s? one sauce for all meates? No no Eubulus, but I will yeelde to more, then eyther I am bounde to graunte, eyther thou able to proue: Suppose that which I neuer will beléeue, that Naples is a canckred storehouse of all strife, a common stewes for all strum­pettes, the sinke of shame, and the very nurse of all sin: shall it therfore follow of necessitie that all y ^• are woed of loue, should be wedded to lust, will you con­clude as it were ex consequenti, that whosoeuer ary­ueth héere shall be enticed to follye, and béeinge enti­ced, of force shallbe entangled? No, no, it is y ^e disposition of the thought y ^t altereth y ^e nature of y ^e thing. The Sun shineth vppon the dungehill, and is not corrupted, the Diamond lyeth in the fire, and is not consumed, the Christall toucheth the Toade, and is not poysoned, the birde Fiochilus lyueth by the mouth of the Crocodile and is not spoyled, a perfecte wit is neuer bewitched with leaud [...]nesse, neyther entised with lasciuiosnesse.

Is it not common that the Holme trée springeth amidst the Beach? That the Iuie spreadeth vppon the hard stones? That the softe fetherbed breketh the hard blade? If experience haue not taughte you this, you haue lyued long & learned ly [...]tle, or if your moyst braine [Page 7] haue forgot it, you haue learned much and profited no­thing. But it may be, that you measure my affections, by your owne fancies, and knowing your selfe either too simple to rayse the siege of pollycie, or too weake to resist the assault by prowesse, you déeme me of as lyttle wit as your selfe, or of lesse force, eyther of small capa­citie, or of no courage. In my iudgement Eubulus, you shal assone catch a Hare with a Taber, as you shal per­swade youth, with your aged & ouerworn eloquence, to such seueritie of lyfe, which as yet ther was neuer Sto­y [...]ke so strict, nor Iesuite so supersticious, neyther Vo­tarie so deuout, but would rather allow it in words thē follow it in workes, rather talke of it then try it. Nei­ther were you such a Saint in your youth, that aban­doning all pleasures, all pastimes, and delyghts, you would chuse rather to sacrifice the first fruites of your lyfe to vayne holynesse, then to youthly affections. But as to the stomacke quatted with daynties, all delycates séeme quesie, and as he that surfetteth with wine v­seth afterward to allay with water: So these olde hud­dles hauing ouercharged their gorges with fancie, ac­compte all honest recreation méere follly, and hauinge taken a surfet of delyght, séeme now to sauor it with de­spight. Séeing therefore it is labour lost for mée to per­swade you, and winde vaynely wasted for you to exhort me, héere I founde you and héere I leaue you, hauing neither bought nor solde with you, but chaunged ware for ware, if you haue taken lyttle pleasure in my reply, sure I am that by your counsaile I haue reaped lesse profit. They that vse to steale honny, burne hemlocke to smoke the Bées from their hiues, and it may bée, that to get some aduauntage of mée, you haue vsed these smokie argumentes, thincking thereby to smother mée with the conceipt of strong imagination: But as y ^e Ca­melion thoughe hée haue most guttes, draweth least [Page] breath, or as the Elder trée thoughe hée bée fullest of pith, is farthest from strength, so though your reasons seeme inwardly to your selfe somewhat substantial, and your perswasions pithie in your owne conceipte, yet beyng well wayed without, they be shadowes without substaunce, and weake without force. The Birde Fa [...]ras, hath a great voyce but a small body, the thun­der a greate clappe, yet but a lyttle stone, the emptie ves­sell giueth a greater sownd, then the full barrell. I meane not to apply it, but looke into your selfe and you shall certeinely finde it, and thus I leaue you séekinge it, but were it not that my company stay my comming, I would surely helpe you to looke it, but I am called hence by my acquaintance.

Euphues hauing thus ended his talke departed lea­uing this olde gentleman in a great quandarie: who perceiuing that he was more enclined to wantonnesse, then to wisedome, with a déepe sigh the teares trickling downe his chéekes, sayde: Séeing thou wilt not buye counsell at the firste hande good cheape, thou shalt buye repentaunce at the seconde hande, at suche an vnre­sonable rate, that thou wilt curse thy hard penyworth, and banne thy hard hearte. And immediately he wente to his owne house, heauily bewayling the young mans vnhappinesse.

Héere ye may beholde gentlemen, how lewdly wit standeth in his owne lyght, howe he déemeth no pennye good siluer but his owne, preferring the blossome before the fruite, the budde before the flower, the gréene blade before the ripe eare of corne, his owne witte before all mens wisedomes. Neyther is that geason, séeing for the most parte it is proper to all those of sharpe capa­citie to estéeme of themselues, as most proper: if one bée harde in conceiuing, they pronounce him a dowlte, if [Page 8] giuen to study, they proclayme him a duns, if merrye a iester, if sadde a Sainct, if full of wordes, a sotte, if without speach, a Cypher, if one argue with them bold­ly, then is he impudent, if coldely an innocent, if there be reasoning of diuinitie, they cry, Quae supra nos ni­hil ad nos, if of humanitie, Sententias loquitur carni­fex, héereoff commeth suche greate familyaritie be­tweene the rypest wittes, when they shall sée the dys­position the one of the other, the Sympathia of affecti­ons and as it were but a payre of shéeres to goe be­twéene theire natures, one flattereth an other in hys owne folly, and layeth cushions vnder the elbowe of his fellowe, when hée seeth him take a nappe with fancie, and as theire witte wresteth them to vice, so it forgeth them some feate excuse to cloake theire vanitie.

Too much studie doth intoxicate their braynes, for (saye they) althoughe yron the more it is vsed the brighter it is, yet siluer with much wearing doth wast to nothing, though the Cammocke the more it is bowed the better it serueth, yet the bow the more it is bent & occupied, the weaker it waxeth, though the Camomill, the more it is trodden and pressed downe, the more it spreadeth, yet the violet the oftner it his handled and touched, the sooner it withereth and decayeth. Be­sides thys, a fine wytte, a sharpe sence, a quicke vn­derstanding, is able to atteine to more in a moment or a very little space, then a dull and blockish heade in a month, the sithe cutteth farre better and smoother then the sawe, the waxe yéeldeth better and sooner to the seale, then the stéele to the stampe or hammer, the smooth & playne Béeche is easier to be carued and oc­cupyed then the knottie Boxe. For neyther is ther any thing, but y ^• hath his contraries: Such is the Nature of [Page] these nouises that thincke to haue learning without la­bour, and treasure without trauayle, eyther not vnder­standing or els not remembring, that the finest edge is made with the blunt whetstone, and the fairest Ie­well fashioned with the harde hammer. I go not about (gentlemen) to inueigh against wit, for then I wer wit­lesse, but frankely to confesse mine owne lyttle wit. I haue euer thought so supersticiously of wit, that I feare I haue committed Idolatry agaynst wisedome, and if Nature had dealte so beneficially with mée to haue gi­uen me any wit, I should haue bene readyer in the de­fence of it to haue made an Apologie, then any way to tourne to Apostacie: But this I note, that for the most part they stande so on their pantuffles, that they be se­cure of perills, obstinate in their owne opinions, im­patient of labour, apte to conceiue wrong, credulous to beleeue the worst, ready to shake off their olde acquain­taunce without cause, and to condempne them without colour: All which humors are by somuch the more ea­sier to bée purged, by howe much the lesse they haue festred the sinnewes: But retourne we agayne to Eu­phues.

Euphues hauing soiourned by the space of two mo­neths in Naples, whether he were moued by the cour­tesie of a young gentleman named Philautus, or infor­ced by destenie: whether his pregnant wit, or his plea­saunt conceits wrought the greater liking in the minde of Euphues I know not for certeyntie: But Euphues shewed such entyre loue towards him, that he séemed to make small accompt of any others, determining to enter into such an inuiolable league of friendship with him, as neyther time by peecemeale should empaire, nei­ther fancie vtterly dissolue, nor any suspition infringe. I haue red (saith he) and well I beléeue it, that a friend is in prosperitie a pleasure, a solace in aduersitie, in [Page 9] griefe a comfort, in ioy a merrye companion at all times an other I, in all places y ^e expresse Imag [...] o [...] mine owne person: insomuch that I cannot tell, whether the imm [...]r­tall Gods haue bestowed any gift vpon mortall men, ei­ther more noble, or more necessary, then friendship. Is ther any thing in the world to be reputed (I will not say compared) to friendship? Can any treasure in this tran­sitorie pilgrimage, be of more vale we then a friend? in whose bosome thou maist sleepe secure without feare, whom thou maist make partner of all thy secrets with­out suspition of fraude, and pertaker of all thy misfor­tune without mistrust of fléeting, who will accompt thy bale his bane, thy mishap his misery, the pricking of thy finger, the percing of his heart. But whether am I car­ried? Haue I not also learned that one shoulde eate a bushell of salt with him, whom he meaneth to make his friend? that tryall m [...]keth trust? that there is falshood in fellowship? and what then? Doth not the sympathy of manners, make the coniunction of mindes? Is it not a by woord, like will to like? Not so common as commen­dable it is, to see young gentlemen choose thē such friends with whom they may séeme béeing absent to be present, being a sunder to be conuersant, beeing dead to be aliue. I will therefore haue Philautus for my pheere, and by so much the more I make my selfe sure to haue Philau­tus, by how much the more I view in him the liuely I­mage of Euphues.

Although there bée none so ignoraunt that doth not know, neither any so impudent that will not confesse, friendship to bée the iewell of humaine ioye: yet whoso­euer shall sée this amitie grounded vpon a little affecti­on, will soone coniecture that it shall be dissolued vpon a light occasion: as in the sequele of Euphues & Philau­tus you shall see, whose hot loue waxed soone colde. For as y ^e best wine doth make y ^e sharpest vinaig [...]r, so y ^e déepest [Page] loue tourneth to the deadliest hate. Who deserued the most blame in mine opinion, it is doubtful, & so difficult, that I dare not presume to giue verdit. For loue being y ^e cause for which so many mischiefes haue ben attemp­ted, I am not yet perswaded, whether of thē was most to be blamed, but certeinly neither of them was blame­lesse. I appeale to your iudgement gentlemen, not that I thincke any of you of y ^e like disposition, able to decide the question but béeing of déeper discretion then I am, are more fit to debate the quarrell. Though y ^e discourse of their friendship and falling out be somewhat long, yet being somewhat straunge, I hope the delightfulnes of the one, will attenuate the tediousnesse of the other.

Euphues had continuall accesse to the place of Phi­lautus and no little familiaritie with him, and finding him at conuenient leasure, in these short termes vnfol­ded his minde vnto him.

Gentleman and friend, the triall I haue had of thy manners, cutteth off diuers termes which to an other I would haue vsed in the like matter. And sithens a long discourse argueth folly, and delicate words incurre the suspition of flattery, I am determined to vse neither of them, knowing either of them to bréede offence. Way­ing with my selfe the force of friendship by the effects, I studied euer since my first comming to Naples to en­ter league with such a one, as might direct my steps be­ing a straunger, & resemble my manners being a schol­ler, the which two qualities as I finde in you able to sa­tisfie my desire, so I hope I shall finde a hearte in you willing to accomplish my request. Which if I may ob­tein, assure your selfe y ^e Damon to his Pythias, Pylades to his Orestes, Titus to his Gysippus, Theseus to his Pyrothus, Scipio to his Laelius, was neuer [...]oūd more faithfull then Euphues will be to his Philautus.

Philautus by how much the lesse hée looked for thys [Page 10] discourse, by so much the more he liked it, for he saw all qualities both of body & minde in Euphues, vnto whom he replyed as followeth.

Friend Euphues (for so your talke warranteth me to terme you) I dare neither vse a long processe, neither lo­uing speach, least vnwittingly I should cause you to cō ­uince me of those thinges, which you haue alredy con­demned. And verily I am bolde to presume vpon your curtesie, since you your self haue vsed so little curiositie, perswading my selfe, that my short answere wil worke as great an effect in you, as your few words did in me. And seeing we resemble (as you say) each other in quali­ties, it cannot be that the one should differ from y ^e other in curtesie, séeing the sincere affection of the minde, can­not be expressed by the mouth, & that no arte can vnfolde y ^e entire loue of the heart, I am earnestly to beséech you not to measure the firmenesse of my faith, by the fewnes of my wordes, but rather thincke that the ouerflowing waues of good will leaue no passage for many woords. Tryall shall proue trust, héere is my hand, my heart, my lands and my lyfe at thy cōmaundement: Thou maist well perceiue that I did beleeue thée, that so soone I dyd loue thée, and I hope thou wilt the rather loue me, in that I did beléeue thée.

After many embracings & protestations one to an o­ther, they walked to dinner, where they wanted neither meate, neither Musicke, neither any other pastime, & ha­uing banqueted, to digest their swéet confections, they daunced all y ^e afternoone, they vsed not onely one boord, but one bedde, one booke (if so be it they thought not one to many.) Their friendship augmented euery day, inso­much y ^t the one could not refraine y ^e company of y ^e other one minute, all things went in cōmon betwéene them, which all men accompted cōmendable. Philautus being a towne borne childe, both for his owne continuance, & [Page] the great countenaunce whiche his Father had whyle he liued, crepte into credite with Don Ferardo one of the chiefe gouernours of the citie, who although he had a courtly crewe of gentlewomen soiourning in his pal­lace, yet his daughter heire to his whole reuenews, stai­ned the beautie of them all, whose modest bashfulnesse caused the other to looke wanne for enuie, whose lillye cheekes dyed with a Uermillion redde made the rest to blushe at hir beautie. For as the finest Rubie, stay­neth the coulour of the rest that bée in place, or as the Sunne dimmeth the Moone, that she cannot bee discer­ned, so this gallant gyrle more faire then fortunate, and yet more fortunate then faithfull, eclipsed the beautie of them all, and chaunged their coulours. Unto hir had Philautus accesse, who wanne hir by right of loue, and shoulde haue worne hir by right of lawe, had not Euphues by strau [...]ge destenie broken the bondes of marriage, and forbidden the banes of Ma­trimonie.

It happened y ^t Don Ferardo had occasion to go to Ve­nice about certein his own affaires, leauing his daugh­ter the onely steward of his houshoulde, who spared not to feast Philautus hir friend, with al kindes of delights & delicates, reseruing onely hir honestie as the chiefe stay of hir honour. Hir father being gon she sent for hir friend to supper, who came not as he was accustomed solitari­ly alone, but accompanied with his friende Euphues. The Gentlewoman whether it were for nycenesse or for niggardnesse of curtesie, gaue hym suche a colde welcome that he repented that he was come.

Euphues thoughe hée knewe himselfe worthy eue­ry way to haue a good countenaunce, yet coulde hée not perceiue hir willinge any way to lende hym a friend­ly looke. At the last supper béeing readye to come in, Philautus sayde vnto hir: Gentlewoman I was the [Page 11] bolder to bringe my shadowe with mée, (meaning Eu­phues) knowing that he should be the better welcome for my sake, vnto whome the gentilwoman replyed: Syr as I neuer when I sawe you thought that you came without your shadow, so now I cannot a lyttle meruaile to sée you so ouershot in bringing a new sha­dow w ^t you. Euphues though he perceiued hir coy nippe, séemed not to care for it, but taking hir by y ^e hand sayd.

Fayre Lady seing the shade doth often shilde your beautie from the parching Sunne, I hope you will the better estéeme of the shadowe, and by so much the lesse it ought to be offenciue, by how much the lesse it is a­ble to offende you, and by so much the more you ought to lyke it, by how much the more you vse to lye in it.

Well gentleman aunswered Lucilla in arguing of the shadowe, we forgoe the substance: pleaseth it you therefore to sit downe to supper. And so they all sate downe, but Euphues fed of one dish which euer stoode before him, the beautie of Lucilla.

Héere Euphues at the firste sight was so kyndled with desyre, that almost he was lyke to burn to coales. Supper being ended, the order was in Naples that the gentlewomen would desire to heare some discourse, ei­ther concerning loue or learning: And although Phi­lautus was requested, yet he posted it ouer to Euphues, whome he knew most fit for that purpose: Euphues being thus tyed to the stake by their importunate in­treatie, began as followeth.

He that worst may is alwaye enforced to holde the candell, the weakest must still to the wall, where none will, the Diuell himselfe must beare the crosse: But were it not gentlewomen that your lyste standes for lawe, I would borrow so muche leaue as to resigne myne office to one of you, whose experience in loue hath made you learned, and whose learning hath made you [Page] so louely: for me to entreate of the one being a nouise, or to discourse of the other being a trewant, I may wel make you weary but neuer the wyser, and giue you oc­casion rather to laugh at my rashnesse, then to lyke my reasons. Yet I care the lesse to excuse my boldnesse to you, who were the cause of my blyndenesse. And since I am at myne owne choyce eyther to talke of loue or of learning, I had rather for this tyme be déemed an vnthrift in reiecting profit, then a Stoicke in renouncing pleasure.

It hath bene a question often disputed, but neuer de­termined, whether the qualities of the mynde, or the composition of the man, cause women most to lyke, or whether beautie or witte moue men most to loue. Cer­tes by how much the more the mynde is to be prefer­red before the body, by so much the more the graces of the one are to be preferred before the gifts of the other, which if it be so, that the contemplation of the inwarde qualitie ought to be respected more, then the view of the outward beautie, then doubtlesse women eyther doe or should loue those best whose vertue is best, not mea­suring the deformed man with the reformed mynde. The foule Toade hathe a fayre stoane in his head, the fine goulde is founde in the filthy earth, the swéete ker­nell lyeth in the hard shell. Uertue is harbored in the heart of him that most men estéeme misshapen, contra­rywise if we respect more the outward shape, then the inwarde habit, good God into how many mischiefes doe we fall? into what blyndenesse are we ledde? Doe we not commonly sée that in paynted pottes is hidden the deadlyest poyson? that in the gréenest grasse is the grea­test Serpent? in the cléerest water the vglyest Toade? Doth not experience teach vs that in the most curious Sepu [...]chre are enclosed rotten bones? That the Cy­presse trée beareth a fayre leafe but no fruite? That the [Page 12] Estridge carryeth fayre fethers, but rancke flesh? How franticke are those louers which are carryed away with the gaye glistering of the fine face? the beautie wher­of is parched with the Sommers blase, & chipped with the winters blast, which is of so short continuance that it fadeth before one perceiue it florishe, of so small pro­fit that it poysoneth those that possesse it, of so little va­lue with the wyse, that they accompt it a delicate bayte with a deadly hooke, a sweete Panther with a deuouring paunch, a sower poyson in a siluer potte. Here I colde enter into discourse of such fyne dames as being in loue with theyr owne lookes, make suche course accompt of theyr passionate louers: for cōmonly if they be adorned with beautie, they be so straight laced, and made so high in the insteppe, that they disdaine them most that most desyre them. It is a worlde to sée the doating of theyr louers, and theyr dealing with them, the reuealing of whose subtil traines would cause me to shead teares, & you gentlewomen to shut your modest eares. Pardon me gentlewomen if I vnfold euery wyle, & shew euery wrinckle of womens disposition. Two thinges do they cause their seruants to vow vnto them, secrecie, & soue­raigntie, y ^e one to conceale their entising sleights, by the other to assure themselues of their onely seruice. Again, but ho there, if I shold haue waded any further & sown­ded the depth of their deceipt, I should either haue pro­cured your displeasure, or incurred y ^e suspition of frawd, eyther armed you to practise the like subteltie, or accused my self of periury. But I mean not to offend your chast mynds, w ^t the rehersal of their vnchast manners, whose eares I perceiue to glowe, and heartes to be gréeued at that which I haue already vttered, not that amongest you there be any such, but that in your sexe ther should be any such. Let not gētlewomē therfore make to much of their paynted sheathe, lette them not be so curyous [Page] in theyr owne conceite, or so currishe to theyr loyall lo­uers. When the blacke crowes foote shall appeare in theyr eye, or the blacke Oxe treade on their foote, when their beautie shall be lyke the blasted Rose, theyr wealth wasted, their bodies worne, theyr faces wrinck­led, their fyngers crooked, who will lyke of them in their age, who loued none in their youth? If you will be cherished when you be olde, be curteous while you be young, if you looke for comfort in your hoary haires, be not coye when you haue your golden lockes, if you would be embraced in the wayning of your brauery, be not squeymish in the waxing of your beautie, if you de­syre to be kept lyke the Roses when they haue loste theyr coulour, smell swéete as the Rose doth in the bud, if you would be tasted for olde wyne, be in the mouth a pleasant Grape, so shall you be cherished for your cur­tesie, comforted for your honestie, embraced for your a­mitie, so shall you be preserued with the swéete Rose, and droncke with the pleasant wyne. Thus farre I am bolde gentlewomen, to counsell those that be coye that they weaue not the webbe of theyr owne woe, nor spin the thréed of their owne thraldome by their owne ouer­thwartnesse. And seing we are euen in the bowells of loue, it shall not be amisse to examine whether man or woman be sonest allured, whether be most constant the male or the female. And in this poynt I meane not to be myne owne caruer, least I should séeme eyther to picke a thanke with men or a quarrel with women. If ther­fore it might stande with your pleasure (Mistres Lucil­la) to giue your censure I would take the contrary, for sure I am though your iudgement be sounde, yet affec­tion will shadow it.

Lucilla seing his pretence thought to take aduaun­tage of his large profer, vnto whome she sayde. Gentle­man in myne opinion Women are to be wonne with [Page 13] euery wynde, in whose sex ther is neither force to with­stande the assaults of loue, neither constancie to remaine faythfull. And bicause your discourse hathe hetherto bredde delight, I am loth to hinder you in the sequele of your deuises. Euphues perceiuing himselfe to be taken napping, answered as followeth.

¶Mistres Lucilla, if you speake as you thincke, these gentlewomen present haue lyttle cause to thanke you, if you cause me to cōmend women, my tale wil be accōp­ted a méere tri [...]le, & your words y ^e plain truth: Yet knowing promise to be debt, I wyll paye it with performance. And I would y ^e gentlemen here present wer as ready to credit my proofe, as y ^e gentlewomen are willing to heare their own prayses, or I as able to ouercome, as Mistres Lucilla would be cōtent to be ouerthrown, how so euer the matter shall fall out, I am of the surer syde, for if my reasons be weake, then is our sexe stronge, if forcy­ble, then your iudgement féeble, if I fynde truth on my syde, I hope I shall for my wages win the good will of women, if I want proofe, then gentlewomen of neces­sitie you must yelde to men. But to the matter.

Touching the yelding to loue, albeit theyr hartes séeme tender, yet they harden them lyke the stone of Sicilia, the which the more it is beaten, the harder it is, for being framed as it were of the perfection of men, they be frée from all such cogitations as may any way prouoke them to vncleanenesse, insomuch as they ab­horre the light loue of youth which is grounded vpon lust, & dissolued vpon euery light occasion. When they sée the folly of men turne to fury, their delight to doting, theyr affection to frensie, when they sée them as it were pyne in pleasure, and to waxe pale through theyr owne péeuishnesse, their sutes, their seruice, theyr letters, theyr labors, their loues, theyr lyues, seeme to them so odi­ous, that they harden theyr hartes against such concu­piscence, [Page] to the ende they might cōuert them from rash­nesse to reason, from such lewde disposition, to honest discretion: hereoff it commeth that men accuse women of crueltie, b [...]cause they themselues want ciuilitie, they accompt them full of wyles in not yelding to their wic­kednesse, faythlesse for resisting their fylthinesse. But I had almost forgot my selfe, you shall pardon mée Mi­stresse Lucilla for this time, if this abruptly, I finish my discourse, it is neyther for want of good wil, or lacke of proofe, but that I feele in my selfe such alteration, that I can scarcely vtter one word, ah Eupheus, Euphues.

The gentlewomen were strooke into such a quanda­rie with this sodayne chaunge, that they all chaunged coulour. But Euphues taking Philautus by the hande and giuing the gentlewomen thanckes for their pati­ence and his repast, badde them all fare-well, and went immediatly to his chamber. But Lucilla who now be­gan to frie in the flames of loue, all the company bée­ing departed to their lodgings, entred into these termes and contrarieties.

Ah wretched wench Lucilla how art thou perplex­ed? what a doubtfull fight dost thou féele betwixt faith and fancie? hope & feare? conscience and concupiscence? O my Euphues, lyttle dost thou know the sodayne sor­row that I sustayne for thy swéete sake. Whose witte hath bewitched me, whose rare qualyties haue depri­ued me of mine olde qualytie, whose courteous behaui­our without curiositie, whose comely feature without fault, whose fyled speach without fraude, hath wrap­ped me in this misfortune. And canst thou Lucilla be so light of loue in forsaking Phil [...]utus to flye to Euphues? canst thou prefer a straunger before thy countryman? A starter before thy companion? Why Euphues doth per­happes desyre my loue, but Philautus hath deserued it. Why Euphues feature is worthy as good as I, But [Page 14] Philautus his fayth is worthy a better. I but the lat­ter loue is moste feruent. I but the firste ought to be most faythfull. I but Euphues hath greater perfection. I but Philautus hath déeper affection.

Ah fonde wench, doste thou thincke Euphues will déeme thee constant to him, when thou hast bene vncon­stant to his friende? Wéenest thou that he will haue no mistrust of thy faithfulnesse, when he hath had try­all of thy fycklenesse? Will he haue no doubt of thyne honour, when thou thy selfe callest thyne honestie in question? Yes, yes, Lucilla, well dothe he know that the glasse once crased will with the leaste clappe be cracked, that the cloath which staineth with Mylke, will soone loose his coulour with vineger, that the Ea­gles wynge will wast the fether as well of the Phoe­nix, as of the Pheasant, that she that hath bene fayth­lesse to one, will neuer be faythfull to any. But can Eu­phues [...] conuince me of fléetinge, séeing for his sake I breake my fideli [...]i [...] Can he condemne me of disloyal­tie, when he is the onely cause of my dislyking? Maye he iustly condemne me of trecherye, who hath this te­stimony as tryall of my good will? Doth not he re­member that the broken boane once sette together, is stronger then euer it was? That the greatest blotte is taken off with the Pommice? That though the Spy­der poyson the Flye, she cannot infect the Bée? That although I haue bene light to Philautus, yet I may be louely to Euphues? It is not my desire, but his de­sertes that moueth my mynde to this choyse, neyther the want of the lyke good will in Philautus, but the lacke of the lyke good qualities that remoueth my fan­cie from the one to the other.

For as the Bée that gathereth Honny out of the wéede, when she espyeth the faire flower flyeth to the sweetest: or as the kynde spanyell though he hunt after [Page] Byrdes, yet forsakes them to retryue the Partridge: or as we commonly feede on béefe hungerly at the first, yet seing the Quayle more dayntie, chaunge our dyet: So I, although I loued Philautus for his good proper­ties, yet seing Euphues to excell him, I ought by Na­ture to lyke him better: By so muche the more there­fore my change is to be excused, by how much the more my choyce is excellent: and by so much the lesse I am to be condemned, by how much the more Euphues is to be commended. Is not the Dyamonde of more valewe then the Rubie, bicause he is of more vertue? Is not the Emeraulde preferred before the Saphyre for his wonderfull propertie? Is not Euphues more prayse worthy then Philautus being more wittie? But fye Lucilla, why doste thou flatter thy selfe in thyne owne follye? canst thou fayne Euphues thy friend, whome by thyne owne wordes thou hast made thy foe? Dyddest not thou accuse women of inconstancie? dyddest not thou accompt them easy to be wonne [...] dyddest not thou condemne them of weakenesse? what sounder argu­ment can he haue against thée, then thine owne answer? what better proofe, then thine owne speach? what grea­ter tryall, then thyne owne talke? If thou haste belyed women, he will iudge thée vnkynde, if thou haue reuea­led the troth, he must néedes thincke thée vnconstant, if he perceiue thée to be wonne with a Nut, be will ima­gine that thou wilt be lost with an Apple: If he fynde thée wanton before thou be woed, he wil gesse thou wilt be wauering when thou art wedded.

But suppose that Euphues loue thée, that Philautus leaue thée, will thy father thinckest thou giue thée liber­tie to lyue after thyne owne lust? will he esteeme him worthy to enherite his possessions, whom he accompteth vnworthy to enioye thy person? Is it lyke that he wyll match thee in marryage w ^t a stranger, with a Grecian, [Page 15] with a meane man? I but what knoweth my father whether he be wealthy, whether his reuenewes be a­ble to counteruaile my fathers lands, whether his birth be noble, yea, or no? can any one make doubte of his gentle bloude, that séeth his gentle condicions? Can his honoure be called into question, whose honestie is so greate? is he to be thought thriftelesse, who in all qualyties of y ^e minde is peerelesse? No, no, y ^e tree is kno­wen by his fruite, the golde by his touch, the sonne by the fire. And as the softe waxe receiueth what soeuer print be in the seale, and sheweth no other impression, so the tender babe being sealed with his fathers giftes representeth his Image most lyuely. But were I once certaine of Euphues good w [...]ll, I woulde not so super­sticiously accompt of my fathers ill will. Albeit I can no way quench the coal [...]s of desire with forgetfulnesse, yet will I rake them vp in the ashes of modestie, séeing I dare not discouer my loue for maidēly shamefastnes. I wil dissemble it til time I haue opportunitie. And I hope so to behaue my selfe as Euphues shall thinke me his owne, and [...]hilautus perswade himselfe I am none but his. But I would to God Euphues would repaire hether, that the sight of him might mittigate some part of my martirdome.

She hauing thus discoursed with hir selfe hir owne miseryes, cast hir selfe on the bedde: and there l [...]tte hir lye, and retourne wee to Euphues, who was so ca [...]ght in the ginne of folly, that he neyther coulde comforte himselfe nor durst aske counsel of his friend, suspecting that which in deede was t [...]ue, that Philautus was cor [...]iuall with him, and coo [...]emate with Lucilla. Amiddest therefore these his extremityes betweene hope and feare, hée vttered these or the lyke spea­ches.

What is hée Euphues that knowing thy witte, and [Page] séeing thy folly: but will rather punish thy lewdenesse, then pittie thy heauiuesse? Was there euer any so fic­kle so soone to be allured? any euer so faithlesse to de­ceiue his friend? euer any so foolish to bathe himselfe in his owne misfortune? To true it is that as the Sea Crabbe swimmeth alwayes agaynst the streame, so wit alwayes striueth agaynst wisedome: And as the Bee is oftentimes hurte with hir owne honny, so is wit not seldome plagued with his owne conceipte.

O ye gods haue ye ordayned for euerye maladye a medicine, for euery sore a salue, for euery payne a plai­ster, leuing only loue remedilesse? Did ye déeme no man so madde to be entangled with desire, or thoughte yée them worthye to be tormented that were so misledde? haue ye dealte more fauourable with brute beasts then with reasonable creatures.

The filthy Sow when she is sicke, eateth the Sea Crabbe and is immediately recured: the Torteyse ha­uing tasted the Uiper, sucketh Origanum and is quick­ly reuiued: the Beare readye to pine, lycketh vpp the Ants and is recouered: the Dogge hauing surfetted to procure his vomitte eateth grasse, and findeth remedy: the Harte béeing pearced with the darte, runneth out of hande to the hearbe Dictanum, and is healed. And can men by no hearb, by no art, by no way procure a re­medye for the impatient disease of loue? Ah well I per­ceiue that loue is not vnlyke the Figge trée, whose fruite is swéete, whose roote is more bitter then the claw of a Bitter, or lyke the apple in Persia, whose blossome sauoreth lyke Honny, whose budde is more sower then gall.

But O impietie. O broade blasphemy agaynst the heauens. Wilt thou be so impudent Euphues, to accuse the gods of iniquitie? No fonde foole, no. Neyther is it forbidden vs by the gods to loue, by whose diuine [Page 16] prouidence we are permitted to lyue, neyther doe wée want remedyes to recure our maladyes, but reason to vse the meanes. But why goe I about to hinder the course of loue, with the discourse of law? hast thou not redde Eupheus, that he that loppeth the Uine causeth it to spreade fairer? that hee that stoppeth the streame forceth it to swell higher? that he that casteth water on the fire in the Smithes forge, maketh it to flame fier­cer? Euen so he that seeketh by counsayle to moderate his ouerlashinge affections, encreaseth his owne mis­fortune. Ah my Lucilla, wold thou wert either lesse faire or I more fortunate, eyther I wiser or thou milder, ei­ther woulde I were out of this madde moode, eyther I would we were both of one minde. But how should she be perswaded of my loyaltie, that yet had neuer one simple proofe of my loue? will shée not rather imagine me to be intangled with hir beautie, then with hir ver­tue. That my fancie being so lewdly chayned at y ^e first, will be as lyghtly changed at the last, y ^t ther is nothing which is permanēt y ^t is violent? yes, yes, she must néeds coniecture so, although it be nothing so, for by how much y ^e more my affection cōmeth on y ^e suddaine, by so much the lesse will she thinke it certeyne. The ratling thun­derbolte hath but his clappe, the lyghteninge but his flash, and as they both come in a moment, so doe they both ende in a minute.

I but Euphues, hath shée not hearde also that the drye touche woode is kindled with lyme, that the grea­test mushrompe groweth in one night? y ^t the fire quick­ly burneth the flaxe? that loue easilye entreth into the sharpe witte without resistaunce, & is harboured there without repentaunce?

If therefore the Gods haue endewed hir with as much bountie as beautie. If she haue no lesse wit then she hath comelynesse, certes she will neyther [Page] conceiue sinisterly of my sodayne sute, neyther be coye to receiue me into hir seruice, neyther suspecte mée of lyghtnesse, in yeelding so lyghtly, neyther reiect me dis­daynefully, for louing so hastely. Shall I not then ha­zarde my lyfe to obtaine my loue? and deceiue Philau­tus to receiue Lucilla? Yes Euphues, where loue bea­reth sway, friendshippe can haue no shew: As Philau­tus brought me for his shadowe the last supper, so will I vse him for my shadow til I haue gayned his Saint. And canst thou wretch be false to him that is faithfull to thee? Shall hys curtesie be cause of thy crueltie? Wilt thou violate the league of fayth, to enherite the land of folly? Shal affectiō be of more force then friend­shippe, loue then law, lust then loyaltie? Knowest thou not that he that looseth his honestie hath nothing els to loose?

Tush the case is lyght where reason taketh place, to loue and to lyue well, is not graunted to Iupiter. Who so is blinded with the caule of beautie, decerneth no coulour of honestie. Did not G [...]ges cut Candaules a coate by his owne measure? Did not Paris though he were a welcome guest to Menelaus serue his hoste a slippery prancke? If Philautus had loued [...]ucilla, he woulde neuer haue suffered Euphues to haue séene hir. Is it not the praye that entiseth the theefe to ryfle? Is it not the pleasaunt bayte, that causeth y ^e fléetest fish to bite? Is it not a bye word amongst vs, that golde ma­keth an honest man an ill man? Did Philautus accompt Euphues to simple to decypher beautie, or supersticious not to desire it? Did he deeme him a saint in reiecting fancie, or a sotte in not discerning?

Thoughte hée him a Stoycke that he would not bée moued, or a stocke that he coulde not?

Well, well, seeing the wound that bléedeth inwarde is most daungerous, that the fire kepte close burneth [Page 17] most furious, that the Oouen dammed vp baketh soo­nest, that sores hauing no vent fester inwardly, it is high time to vnfolde my secret loue, to my secrete friende. Let Philautus behaue himselfe neuer so craftely, hée shal know that it must be a wily Mouse that shal bréed in the Cats eare, and bicause I resemble him in wit, I meane a little to dissemble with him in wyles. But O my Lucilla, if thy hearte, he made of that stone which may bée mollyfied onely with bloud, woulde I had sipped of that riuer in Caria which tourneth those that drincke of it to stones [...] If thine eares be anointed with the Oyle of Syria that bereaueth hearing, would mine eyes had bene rubbed with the sirrop of the Ce­der trée which taketh away sight.

Euphues hauing thus talked with himselfe, Philau­tus entered the chamber, and finding him so worne and wasted with continual mourning, neither ioycing in his meate, nor reioycing in his friend, with watry eyes vt­tered this speach.

FRiende and fellow, as I am not ignoraunt of thy present weaknesse, so I am not priuie of the cause, and although I suspect many things [...] yet can I as­sure my selfe of no one thing. Therfore my good Euphu­es, for these doubtes and dompes of mine, either remoue the cause or reueale it. Thou hast hetherto found me a chéerefull companion in thy mirth, and nowe shalt thou finde me as careful wyth thée in thy moane. If al­together thou maist not be cured, yet maist thou be com­forted. If there be any thing that either by my friends may be procured, or by my life attained, that may either heale thée in parte, or helpe thée in all, I protest to thée by the name of a friende, that it shall rather be gotten with the losse of my body, then lost by getting a king­dome. [Page] Thou hast tried m [...], therfore trust mée, thou hast [...]ul [...]ed me in many things, therfore trie me in this one thing. I neuer ye [...] failed, and now I will not fainte. Be bolde to speake & blush not: thy sore is not so angry but I can salue it, thy woūd not so déep but I can [...]earch it, thy griefe not so great but I can ease it. If it be ripe it s [...]albe lawn [...]ed, if it be broken it shalbe tainted be it ne­uer so desperate it shalbe cured. Rise therfore Euphues, & take hart at grasse, younger y ^u shalt neuer be, plucke vp thy stomacke, if lo [...]e it selfe haue stoung thée it shal not stiffle thée. Though thou be enamoured of some lady thou shalt not be enchaūted. They y ^t begin to pine of a consūptiō, w ^tout delay preserue thēselues w ^t cullisses, he y ^t feeleth his stomack en [...]lamed w ^t heat, cool [...]th it eft soones w ^t cōserues: delayes bréed daūgers, nothing so perillous as procrastinatiō. Euphues hearing this cōfort & friend­ly counsaile, dissēbled his sorrowing hart, with a smiling face, aunswering him foorthwith as followeth.

True it is Philautus that he which toucheth y ^e nettle tenderly, is soonest sloung, y ^t the Fly which plaieth with y ^e fire is singed in the flame, that he y ^• dallieth with wo­men is drawen to his woe. And as y ^• Adamant draweth the heauy yron, the harp y ^t fléet Dolphin, so beauty allu­reth the chast minde to loue, & the wisest wit to lust: The example whereof I would it were no lesse profitable thē y ^e experiēce to me is like to be perilous. The vine wat­tered with wine is soone withered, y ^e blossom in y ^e fattest groūd is quickly blasted, the Goat y ^t fatter she is the lesse fertil she is: yea, man the more wittie he is y ^e lesse happy he is. So it is Philautus (for why should I conceale it frō thée, of whō I am to take counsaile) y ^t since my last & first being w ^t thée at y ^e house of Ferardo, I haue felt such a fu­rious battaile in mine own body, as if it be not speadely repressed by pollicie, it wil carry my minde (y ^e graūd cap­tain in this fight) into endles captiuitie. Ah Liuia, Liuia, [Page 18] thy courtly grace w ^tout coynes, thy blazing beauty with­out blemish, thy curteous demeanour without curiosity, thy swéet speach sauoured w ^t wit, thy comly mirth tem­pered with modesty, thy chast looks yet louely, thy sharp taunts yet pleasant, haue giuen me such a checke, y ^t sure I am at the next view of thy vertues, I shall take thée mate: And taking it not of a pawn, but of a prince, y ^e losse is to be accompted the lesse. And though they be cōmon­ly in a great choler that receiue the mate, yet would I willingly take euery minute x. mates, to enioy Liuia for my louing mate. Doubtlesse if euer she hir self haue ben scorched with the flames of desire, she will be ready to quench the coales with courtesie in an other, if euer shé [...] haue ben attached of loue, she will rescue him y ^t is dren­ched in desire, if euer she haue ben taken w ^t the [...]e [...]r of fancie, she wil help his ague, who by a quotidiā fit is con­uerted into phrensie: Neither can there bée vnder so delicate a hew lodged deceite, neither in so beautifull a mould a malicious minde. True it is that the dis­position of the minde, followeth the composition of y ^e bo­dy: how thē can she be in minde any way imperfect, who in body is perfect euery way [...] I know my successe wil be good, but I know not how to haue acce [...]se to my god­desse, neither do I want courage to discouer my loue to my friēd, but some colour to cloak my cōming to y ^e house of Ferardo, for if they be in Naples as ieolous as they be in the other parts of Italy, then it behoueth me to walke circūspectly, & to forge some cause for mine oftē cōming. If therfore Philautus, y ^u canst fet but this fether to mine arrow, y ^u shalt sée me shoot so néere, y ^t thou wilt accōpt me for a cunning Archer [...] And verily if I had not loued thée wel, I wold haue swalowed mine own sorrow in silēce, knowing y ^t in loue nothing is so daūgerous, as to perticipate y ^e means therof to an other, & y ^e two may kéep coūsel if one be away. I am therfore enforced perforce to chal­lenge [Page] that courtesie at thy handes, which earst thou diddest promise with thy heart, the perfourmaunce whereof shall binde mée to Philautus, and proue thée faithfull to Euphues.

Philautus thincking all to bée golde that glistered, and all to bée gospell that Euphues vttered, aunswered his forged gloase with this friendly cloase.

In that thou hast made me priuie to thy pourpose, I will not conceale my practise, in that thou crauest my aide, assure thy selfe I wil be the finger next the thumbe, insomuch as thou shalt neuer repent thée of the one or the other. Concerning Liuia though shée bée faire, yet is shée not so amiable as my Lucilla, whose seruaunt I haue bene the tearme of thrée yeares, but least compa­risons shoulde seeme odious, chiefly where both the par­ties be without comparison, I will omit that, and sée­ing that wée had both rather be talking wyth them, then tatling of them, wée will immediatly goe to them. And truely Euphues I am not a little gladde, that I shall haue thée, not onely a comfort in my life, but also a companion in my loue: As thou hast bene wise in thy choice, so I hope thou shalt bée fortunate in thy chaunce. Liuia is a wench of more witte then beautie, Lucilla of more beautie then witte, both of more honestye then honoure, and yet both of suche honoure, as in all Naples there is not one in birthe, to bée compa­red wyth any of them both. Howe much therefore haue wée to reioyce in our choice? Touchinge our accesse bée thou secure, I will flappe Ferardo in the mouth with some conceyte, and fill his olde heade so full of newe fables that thou shalt rather bée ear­nestly entreated to repaire to his house, then euyll entreated to leaue it. As olde men are very suspi­tious to mistruste euerye thinge, so are they verye credulous to beléeue any thinge, the blinde man doth [Page 19] eate many a Fly, yea, but sayd Euphues take héede my Philautus, that thou thy selfe swallow not a gudgen, which woord Philautus did not marke, vntill he had al­most digested it. But said Euphues, let vs goe deuoutly to the shrine of our Saincts there to offer our deuoti­on, to the which Euphues consented willingly, smiling to himselfe to see how he had brought Philautus into a fooles Paradise.

Héere you may sée gentlemen the falshood in felow­ship, the fraude in friendship, the painted sheth with the leaden dagger, y ^e faire woords that make fooles faine, but I will not trouble you with superfluous addition vnto whom I feare mee I haue bene tedious, with the bare discourse of this rude historie.

Philautus and Euphues repaired to the house of Fe­rardo, where they found Mistres Lucilla and Liuia ac­companied with other gentlewomen neither béeing idle, nor well employed, but playing at cardes. But when Lucilla beheld Euphues she could scarcely containe hir selfe from embracing him, had not womanly shamefast­nesse, and Philautus his presence stayed hir wisdome.

Euphues on the other side was fallen into such a trance, that he had not the power either to succour him­selfe, or salute the gentlewomen. At the last Lucilla be­gan as one that best might be bolde, on this manner.

Gentlemen although your longe absence gaue mée occasion to thincke that you disliked your late entertain­ment, yet your comming at the last hath cut off my for­mer suspition: And by so much the more you are wel­come by how much the more you were wished for. But you gentleman (taking Euphues by the hande) were the rather wished for, for that your discourse being left vn­perfect, [Page] caused vs all to long (as women are wont for things that like them) to haue an ende thereoff. Unto whom Philautus replyed as followeth.

Mistres Lucilla thoughe your courtesie made vs nothing to doubt of our welcome, yet modestye cau­sed vs to pinch courtesie who shoulde first come, as for my friende I thincke hée was neuer wished for héere so earnestly of any as of hymselfe, whether it might bée to renewe his talke or to recant his sayinges, I cannot tell. But whilest hée was yet speakinge Ferar­do entered, whome they all duetifully welcomed home, who rounding Philautus in the care, desired hym to ac­company him immediatly without farther pausinge, protesting it shoulde bée as well for his preferment as for his owne profite. Philautus consentinge, Ferardo sayd to his daughter.

Lucilla the vrgent affaires I haue in hande, wyll scarce suffer mée to tarrye wyth you one houre, yet my retourne I hope will bée so short, that my absence shall not bréede thy sorrowe: In the meane season I commit all thinges into thy custody wishing thée to vse thy accustomable courtesie. And séeinge I must take Philautus wyth mée, I will bée so bolde to craue you gentleman (his friende) to supplye his roome desiring you to take this hastye warninge for a hartye wel­come and so to spende this time of mine absence in ho­nest mirth. And thus I leaue you.

Philautus knewe well the cause of this sodayne departure, which was to redéeme certeine landes that were morgaged in his Fathers time to the vse of Fe­rardo who on that condition had before time promy­sed him his daughter in marriage. But retourne wée to Euphues.

Euphues was supprised with such increadible ioye at this straunge euent, that hée had almost sounded, for [Page 20] séeing his coryuall to be departed, and Ferardo to gyue him so friendly entertainment, doubted not in time to get the good wyll of Lucilla: Whome findinge in place conuenient without company, with a bolde courage and comely gesture, he began to a [...]ay hir in this sort.

Gentlewoman, my acquaintaunce béeing so little, I am afraide my cred [...]te will bee lesse, for that they com­monly are soonest beleeued, that are b [...]st bel [...]ued, and they liked best, whome we haue knowne longest, neuer­thelesse the noble minde suspecteth no guile wythout cause, neither condemneth any wight wythout proofe, hauing therefore notise of your heroycall heart, I am the better perswaded of my good hap. So it is Lucilla, that cōming to Naples but to fetch fire, as the by word is, not to make my place of abode, I haue founde such flames that I can neither quench them wyth the wa­ter of free will, neyther coole them wyth wisedome. For as the Hoppe the poale béeing neuer so hye grow­eth to the ende, or as the drye Béeche kindled at the roote, neuer leaueth vntill it come to the toppe, or as one droppe of poyson disperseth it selfe into euerye vaine, so affection hauinge caught holde of my hearte, and the sparkles of loue kindled my liuer, wyll so­deinely, thoughe secretlye flame vp into my heade, and spreade it selfe into euerye sinewe. It is your beautie (pardon my abrupte boldenesse) Ladye that hath taken euery part of mée prisoner, and brought me to this déepe distresse, but séeinge women when one praiseth them for their desertes, deeme that hée flat­tereth them to obteine his desire, I am héere present to yelde my selfe to such tryall, as your courtesie in this behalfe shall require: Yet will you cōmonly obiect this to such as serue you & sterue to winne your good wil, that hot loue is soone colde, that the Bauin though it bourne [Page] bright, is but a blaze, that scaldinge water if it stande a while tourneth almost to yse, that pepper [...]hough it be hot in the mouth is colde in the mawe, that the faith of men though it frye in their woordes, it fréeseth in theire works: Which things ( Lucilla) albeit they be sufficient to reproue the lightnesse of some one, yet can it not con­uince euery one of lewdenes, neither ought the constan­cie of all, to be brought in question through the subtiltie of a fewe. For although the worme entereth almost in­to euery woode, yet he eateth not the Ceder trée: Though the stone Cylindrus at euery thunder clappe, rowle from the hill, yet the pure s [...]éeke stone mounteth at the noyse, though the rust fret the hardest stéele, yet doth it not eate into the Emeraulde, though Polypus chaunge his hew, yet y ^e Salamander kéepeth his coulour, though Proteus transforme himselfe into euery shape, yet Pygmalion retaineth his olde forme, though Ae­neas were to fickle to Dido, yet Troylus was to faithfull to Craessida, thoughe others séeme counter­faite in their déedes, yet Lucilla perswade your selfe that Euphues will bée alwayes curraunt in his dea­linges. But as the true golde is tryed by the touch, the pure flinte by the stroke of the yron, so the loyall heart of the faithfull louer, is knowen by the tryall of his Lady: of the which tryall ( Lucilla) if you shall accompte Euphues worthy, assure your selfe, hée wyll bée as readie to offer himselfe a sacrifice for your swéet sake, as your selfe shall bée willinge to employe hym in your seruice. Neyther doth hee desire to bée trusted any way, vntill he shall be tried euery way, neither doth hée craue credite at the first, but a good countenaunce til time his desire shall be made manifest by hys desertes. Thus not blynded by lyght affection, but dazeled with your rare perfection, and boldened by your excéeding courtesie, I haue vnfolded mine entire loue, desiring [Page 21] you hauing so good leasure, to giue so friendly an aun­swere, as I may receiue comforte, and you commen­dacion.

Lucilla although she were contented to heare this desired discourse, yet did shee seeme to bee somewhat displeased: And truely I know not whether it bée pe­culyar to that sex to dissemble with those, whome they most desire, or whether by craft they haue learned out­wardely to loath that, which inwardely they most loue: yet wisely did she cast this in hir head, that if she should yéelde at the first assault he woulde thinke hir a lyght huswife, if she should reiect him s [...]ornefully a very hag­gard, minding therefore that h [...] shoulde neyther take holde of hir promise, neyther vnkindenesse of hir pre­cisenesse, she fedde him indifferently, with hope and dispayre, reason and affection, lyfe and death. Yet in the ende arguing wittilly vpon certeine questions, they fell to suche agréement as poore Philautus woulde not haue agréed vnto if hée had bene present, yet al­wayes kéepinge the body vndefiled. And thus shée replyed.

GEntleman as you may suspecte me of Idelnesse in giuing eare to your talke, so may you conuince me of lyghtenesse in answering such toyes, certes as you haue made mine eares glowe at the rehearsall of your loue, so haue you galled my hart with the remembrance of your folly. Though you came to Naples as a straun­ger, yet were you welcome to my fathers house as a friend. And can you then so much transgresse y ^e bounds of honour (I will not say of honestie) as to solicite a sute more sharpe to me then deathe? I haue hetherto God bethancked, liued wythout suspition of lewde­nesse, and shall I nowe incurre the daunger of sensu­all [Page] lybertie? What hope can you haue to obtayne my loue, seeing yet I coulde neuer affoord you a good looke? Doe you therefore thinke me easely entised to the bent of your bow, bicause I was easely entreated to lysten to your late discourse? Or séeing mée (as finely you glose) to excell all other in beautie, did you déeme that I would exceed all other in beastlynesse? But yet I am not angry [...]upheus but in an agony, for who is shée that will not fret or fume with one that loueth hir, if this loue to delude mee bée not dissembled. It is that which causeth me most to feare, not that my beautie is vnknown to my selfe but that commonly we poore wen­ches are deluded through lyght beliefe, and ye men are naturally enclined craftely to leade your lyfe. When the Foxe preacheth the Géese perishe. The Crocodile shrowdeth greatest treason vnder most pitifull teares: in a kissing mouth there lyeth a gallyng minde. You haue made so large proffer of your seruice, and so fayre promises of fidelytie, that were I not ouer charie of mine honestie, you would inueigle me to shake handes with chastitie. But certes I will eyther leade a Uir­gins lyfe in earth (though I leade Apes in hell) or els follow thée rather then thy giftes: yet am I neither so precise to refuse thy proffer, neither so péeuish to disdain thy good will: So excellent alwayes are y ^e giftes which are made acceptable by the vertue of the giuer. I did at the firste entraunce discerne thy loue but yet dissemble it. Thy wanton glaunces, thy scalding sighes, thy louing signes, caused me to blush for shame, and to looke wanne for feare, least they should be perceiued of any. These subtill shiftes, these paynted practises (if I were to be wonne) woulde soone weane mee from the teate of Vesta, to the toyes of V [...]nus. Besides this thy com­ly grace, thy rare quallyties, thy exquisite perfection, were able to moue a minde halfe mortified to trans­gresse [Page 22] the bondes of maydenly modestie. But God shielde Lucilla, that thou shouldest be so carelesse of thine honour as to commit the state thereoff to a stran­ger. Learne thou by me Euphues to dispise things that be amiable, to forgoe delightfull practises, beléeue mée it is pietie to abstayne from pleasure.

Thou arte not the first that hath solicited this sute, but the first that goeth about to seduce mée, neyther discernest thou more then other, but darest more then any, neyther hast thou more arte to discouer thy mea­ninge, but more hearte to open thy minde: But thou preferrest mée before thy landes, thy lyuings, thy lyfe: thou offerest thy selfe a Sacrifice for my securitie, thou proferest mée the whole and onelye soue [...]igntie of thy seruice: Truely I were very cruell and harde hearted if I should not loue thée: harde hearted albeit I am not, but truely loue thée I cannot, whome I doubte to be my louer.

Moreouer I haue not bene vsed to the court of Cu­pide, wherin ther be more slights then there be Hares in Athon, then Bées in Hybla, then stars in Heauen. Besides this, the common people héere in Naples are not onelye both verye suspitious of other mens mat­ters and manners, but also very iealous ouer other mens children and maydens: eyther therefore dissem­ble thy fancie, or desist from thy folly.

But why shouldest thou desist from the one séeinge thou canst cunningly dissemble the other. My father is nowe gone to Venice, and as I am vncerteine of his retourne, so am I not priuie to the cause of his tra­uayle: But yet is he so from hence that he séethe me in his absence. Knowest thou not Euphues that kinges haue long armes & rulers large reches? neither let this comfort thée, that at his departure he deputed thée in Philautus place. Although my face cause him to mistrust [Page] my loyaltie, yet my fayth enforceth him to giue mée this lybertie, though he be suspitious of my fayre hew, yet is he s [...]cure of my [...]irme honestie. But alas Euphu­es, what truth can there be found in a trauayler? what stay in a stranger? whose words & bodyes both watch but [...]or a winde, whose féete are euer fleeting, whose fayth plighted on the shoare, is tourned to periurie when they hoiste saile. Who more trayterous to Phil­lis then Demophoon? yet he a trauailer. Who more periured to Dido then Aeneas? and he a stranger, both these Quéenes, both they Caytiffes. Who more false to Ar [...]ad [...]e then [...]heseus? yet he a sayler. Who more fickle to Medea then Iason? yet he a starter, both these daughters to great Princes, both they vnfaythfull of promisses. Is it then lykely that [...]uphues will be faith­full to Lucilla béeing in Naples but a soiourner? I haue not yet forgotten the inuectiue (I can no otherwise terme it) which thou madest against beautie, saying it was a deceiptfull bayte with a deadly hooke, & a swéete poyson in a paynted potte. Canst thou then be so vnwise to swallow the bayte which will bréede thy bane? To swill the drinke that will expire thy date? To desire the wight that will worke thy death? But it may bée that with y ^e Scorpion thou canst féede on the earth, or with the Quaile and Roebucke, be fatte with poyson, or with beautie lyue in all brauerie. I feare me thou hast the stone Contineus about thee, which is named of the contrarye, that thoughe thou pretende faithe in thy words, thou deuisest fraude in thy heart, y ^t though thou seeme to prefer loue, thou art inflamed with lust. And what for that? Though thou haue eaten the séed [...]s of Rockatte, which breede incontinencie, yet haue I chew­ed the leafe Cresse which mayteineth modestie. Though thou beare in thy bos [...]me the hearbe Araxa most noisome to virginitie, yet haue I y ^e stone y ^t grow­eth [Page 23] in the mounte Tmolus, the vpholder of chastitie. You may gentleman accompte me for a colde Prophet thus hastely to deuine of your disposition, pardon mée Euphues if in loue I cast beyonde the Moone, which bringeth vs women to endlesse moane. Although I my selfe were neuer burnt, whereby I should dread the fire, yet the scorching of others in the flames of fancie, war­neth me to beware: Though I as yet neuer tryed any faithles, wherby I should be fearefull, yet haue I read of many that haue bene periured, which causeth me to be carefull: though I am able to cōuince none by proofe, yet am I enforced to suspect one vppon probabilyties. Alas we silly soules which haue neyther witte to decy­pher the wyles of men, nor wisedome to dissemble our affection, neyther crafte to trayne in young louers, nei­ther courage to withstande their encounters, neyther discretion to discerne their dubling, neither hard hearts to rei [...]ct their complaynts, wée I say are soone enticed, béeing by nature simple, and easily entangled, béeinge apte to receiue the impression of loue. But alas it is both common and lamentable, to beholde simplicitie in­trapped by subtilytie, and those that haue most might, to be infected with most mallice. The Spider weaueth a fine webbe to hang the Fly, the Wolfe weareth a faire face to deuoure the Lambe, the Merlin striketh at the Partridge, the Eagle often snappeth at the Fly, men are alwayes laying baytes for women, which are the weaker vessells: but as yet I could neuer heare man by such snares to intrappe man: For true it is that men themseleus haue by vse obserued, that it must be a hard winter, when one Wolfe eateth an other. I haue read y ^t the Bull being tyed to y ^e Figge trée loseth his strength, that the whole heard of Deare stande at the gaze, if they smell a swéete apple, that the Dolphin by the sound of Musicke is brought to y ^e shore. And then no meruaile [Page] it is that if the fierce Bull be tamed with the Figge tree, if that women beeing as weake as shéepe, be ouer­come with a Figge, if the wilde Deare be caughte with an apple, that the tame Damzell is wonne with a blossome, if the fleete Dolphin be allured with harmo­ny, that women be entangled with the melodie of mens speach, fayre promises and solemne protestations. But follye it were for mée to marke their mischiefes, sith I am neyther able, neyther they willynge to amende their manners, it becommeth mée rather to shew what our sexe should doe, then to open what yours doth. And seeing I cannot by reason restrayne your importu­nate sute, I will by rigour done on my selfe, cause you to refraine the meanes. I would to God Ferardo were in this poynte lyke to Lysander, which would not suf­fer his daughters to weare gorgeous apparell, saying it would rather make them common then comely. I would it were in Naples a law which was a custome in Aegypt, that woemen should alwayes go barefoote, to the intent they might kéepe themselues alwayes at home, that they shoulde be euer lyke to y ^e Snaile, which hath euer his house on his head. I meane so to mortifie my selfe that in stead of silkes I will weare sackecloth, for Owches and Bracelettes, Léere and Caddys, for the Lute, vse the Distaffe, for the Penne, the Néedle, for louers Sonettes, Dauids Psalmes. But yet I am not so senceles altogether to reiect your seruice: which if I were certeinly assured to procéed of a simple minde, it shold not receiue so simple a reward. And what grea­ter triall can I haue of thy simplicitie & truth, thē thine owne requeste which desireth a triall. I, but in the coldest flinte there is hotte fire, the Bée that hath ho [...] ­ [...]y in hir mouth, hath a sting in hir tayle, the trée that beareth the swéetest fruite, hath a sower sappe, yea the wordes of men, though they séeme smoothe as oyle, yet [Page 24] their heartes are as crooked as the stalke of Iuie. I woulde not Euphues that thou shouldest condemne me of rigour, in that I séeke to asswage thy follye by reason, but take this by the way that although as yet I am disposed to lyke of none, yet whensoeuer I shall loue any I will not forget thée, in the meane season ac­compt me thy friend, for thy foe I will neuer be.

Euphues was brought into a greate quandarie and as it were a colde shiuering, to heare this newe kinde of kindenesse, such swéete meate, such sower sauce, such faire wordes, such faint promises, such hotte loue, such colde desire, such certayne hope, such sodaine chaunge, and stoode lyke one that had looked on Medusaes heade, and so had bene tourned into a stone.

Lucilla séeing him in this pitifull plight and fearing he would take stande if the lure were not cast out, toke him by the hand and wringing him softely with a smi­ling countenaunce began thus to comfort him.

Mée thinkes Euphues chaungeing so your couloure vpon the sodaine, you will soone chaunge your coppie, is your minde on your meat? a penny for your thought.

Mistresse (quod he) if you would buy all my thoughts at that price, I shoulde neuer be wearye of thinking. but séeinge it is too déere, reade it, and take it for no­thing.

It séemes to me (sayd she) y ^t you are in some browne study, what coulours you mighte best weare for your Ladye.

In déede Lucilla you leuell shrewdly at my thought, by the ayme of your owne imagination, for you haue giuen vnto me a true loues knotte wrought of chaunge­able silke, and you déeme mée that I am deuisinge howe I mighte haue my coulours chaungeable also, that they mighte agrée: But lette this with such toyes and deuises passe, if it please you to commaund me any [Page] seruice, I am héere ready to attende your leasure. No seruice Euphues, but that you kéepe silence vntill I haue vttered my minde: and secrecie when I haue vnfolded my meaning.

If I should offende in the one I were to bold, if in the other too beastly.

Well then Euphues (sayd shée) so it is that for the hope that I conceiue of thy loyaltie and the happy suc­cesse that is lyke to ensue of this our loue, I am content to yeelde thée the place in my heart which thou desirest and deseruest aboue all other: which consent in me if it may any wayes bréede thy contentation, sure I am that it will euery way worke my comforte. But as ey­ther thou tenderest mine honour or thine owne safetie, vse such secrecie in this matter that my father haue no incklyng héereoff, before I haue framed his minde fitte for our purpose. And though women haue small force to ouercome men by reason, yet haue they good Fortune to vndermine them by pollycie. The softe droppes of raine pearce the hard Marble, many strokes ouerthrow the tallest Oke, a silly woman in time may make such a breach into a mans hearte as hir teares may enter without resistaunce, then doubt not but I will so vnder­mine mine olde father, as quickly I will enioy my new friend. Tush Philautus was liked for fashion sake, but neuer loued for fancie sake, & this I vow by y ^e fayth of a Uirgin and by the loue I beare thée (for greater bands to confirme my vowe I haue not) that my father shall sooner martir me in the fire then marry me to Philau­tus. No no Euphues thou onely hast wonne me by loue, and shalt only weare me by law, I force not Philautus his fury, so I may haue Euphues his friendship, neither will I prefer his possessions before thy person, neyther estéeme better of his lands then of thy loue. Ferardo shall sooner disherite me of my patrimony, then disho­nour [Page 25] me in breaking my promise it is not his great mannors, but thy good manners, that shall make my marriage. In token of which my sincere affection, I giue thée my hande in pawne and my heart for euer to be thy Lucilla.

Unto whome Euphues aunswered on this man­ner.

If my tongue were able to vtter the ioyes that my heart hath conceiued, I feare me though I be wel beloued, yet I shoulde hardlye bée beléeued. Ah my Lucilla howe much am I bounde to thée, whiche preferrest mine vnworthinesse before thy Fathers wrath, my happinesse before thine owne misfortune, my loue before thine owne lyfe? howe might I ex­cell thée in courtesie, whome no mortall creature can excéede in constancie? I finde it nowe for a set­led truth, which earst I accompted for a vaine talke, that the Purple dye will neuer staine, that the pure Cyuet will neuer loose his sauour, that the greene Laurell will neuer chaunge his coulour, that beautie can neuer bée blotted with discourtesie: As touching secrecie in this behalfe, assure thy selfe, that I wyll not so much as tell it to my selfe. Commaund Euphu­es to runne, to ride, to vndertake any exploite be it ne­uer so daungerous, to hazarde himselfe in any enter­prise, be it neuer so desperate: As they were thus plea­sauntly conferring the one with the other, Liuia (whom Euphues made his stale) entered into the parlor, vnto whom Lucilla spake in these termes.

Dost thou not laugh Liuia to sée my ghostly father kéepe me héere so long at shrift? Truely (aunswered Liuia) me thinckes that you smile at some pleasaunt shift, either hée is slow in enquiring of your faultes, or you slack in aunswering of his questions, and thus be­ing supper time they al sat downe, Lucilla wel pleased, [Page] no man better content then Euphues, who after hys repast hauing no apportunitie to conferre wyth his louer, had small lust to continue with the gentle­woman any longer, séeinge therefore hée coulde frame no meanes to woorke his delight, hée coyned an excuse to hasten his departure, promisinge the next morninge to trouble them againe as a guest more bolde then welcome, although in deed he thought himselfe to bee the better welcome in saying that hée would come.

But as Ferardo went in poste, so hée retourned in haste, hauinge concluded wyth Philautus, that the marriage shoulde immediatly bée consummated which wrought such a content in Philautus y ^t he was almost in an extasie through the extremitie of hys passions: such is the fulnesse and force of pleasure, that there is nothinge so daungerous as the fruity­on, yet knowinge that delayes bringe daungers, al­thoughe hée nothinge doubted of Lucilla, whome hée loued, yet feared hée the ficklenesse of olde men, which is alwayes to bée mistrusted. He vrged there­fore Ferardo to breake wyth his daughter who bée­inge willinge to haue the match made, was content incontiuently to procure the meanes: findinge there­fore his daughter at leasure, and hauing knowledge of hir former loue, spake to hir as followeth.

Deere daughter, as thou hast longe tyme lyued a mayden, so nowe thou must learne to bée a Mother, and as I haue bene carefull to bringe thée vpp a virgin, so am I nowe desirous to make thée a wyfe. Neyther ought I in this matter to vse any perswasi­ons, for y ^e maydens cōmonly now a daies are no sooner borne, but they begin to bride it: neither to offer any greate portions for that thou knowest thou shalt in­herite all my possessions. Mine onely care hath bene [Page 26] heterto to match thée with such an one, as shoulde be of good wealth able to maynteine thée, of great wor­ship able to compare with thee in birth, of honest con­ditions to deserue thy loue, and an Italian borne to enioye my landes. At the laste I haue founde one aunswerable to my desire, a gentleman of great re­uenewes, of a noble progeuie, of honest behauiour, of comely personage, borne and brought vp in Naples, Philautus (thy friende as I gesse) thy husband Lu­cilla, if thou lyke it, neither canst thou dislike hym, who wanteth nothing that shoulde cause thy liking, neyther hath any thinge that shoulde breede thy loa­thing. And surely I reioyce the more, that thou shalt be linked to him in marriage, whome thou hast loued as I heare béeinge a mayden, neither can there any iarres kindle betwéene them, where the mindes be so vnited, neyther any ielowsie arise, where loue hathe so longe bene setled. Therefore Lucilla to the ende the desire of either of you may now be accomplished, to the delight of you both, I am here come to finishe the contract by giuinge handes, whiche you haue al­redy begun betwéen your selues by ioyning of hearts, that as God doth witnesse the one in your consci­ences, so the worlde maye testi [...]ie the other by your conuersations, and therefore Lucilla make such aun­swere to my request, as maye like me and satis [...]ie thy friende.

Lucilla abashed with this sodeine speach of hir fa­ther, yet boldened by the loue of hir friend, with a com­ly bashfulnesse aunswered him in this manner.

Reuerend Sir, the swéetnesse that I haue found in the vndefiled estate of virginitie, causeth me to loath the sower sauce which is mixed with matrimony, and y ^e quiet life which I haue tried being a maiden, maketh me to shun the cares y ^t are alwaies incidēt to a mother, [Page] neither am I so wedded to the worlde that I should be moued wyth greate possessions, neyther so be­witched with wantonnesse, that I should bee entised with any mans proportion, neither if I were so dys­posed woulde I bée so proude to desire one of noble progenie, or so precise to choose one onely in myne owne countrey, for that commonlye these thinges happen alwayes to the contrarie. Doe wée not sée the noble to matche wyth the base, the rich with the poore, the Italian oftentimes with the Portingale? As loue knoweth no lawes, so it regardeth no conditi­ons, as the louer maketh no pawse where hée liketh, so hee maketh no conscience of these idle ceremonies. In that Philautus is the man that threateneth suche kindenesse at my handes, and such courtesie at yours, that hée shoulde accompte mée his wyfe before hée woe mée, certeinely hée is lyke for mée to make hys reckoninge twise, bicause hée reconeth without hys hostesse. And in this Philautus woulde eyther shew himselfe of greate wisdome to perswade, or mée of great lightnesse to be allured: although the loadstone drawe yron, yet it cannot moue golde, thoughe the Iette gather vp the light strawe, yet can it not take vp the pure stéele. Althoughe Philautus thincke himselfe of vertue sufficient to winne his louer, yet shall hée not obtaine Lucilla. I cannot but smile to heare, that a marriage should bée solemnized, where neuer was any mention of assuringe, and that the woeing should bée a day after the weddinge. Cer­tes if when I looked merilye on Philautus, hée dée­med it in the waye of marriage, or if séeinge mée dispose to ieste, hée tooke mée in good earnest, then sure hée might gather some presumption of my loue, but no promise: But mée thincks it is good reason, that I [...]houlde be at mine owne brydeall, and not gyuen [Page 27] in the Church, before I know the Bridegrome. There­fore déere Father in mine opinion as there can bée no bargaine, where both be not agréede, neither any In­dentures sealed, where the one will not consent, so can there be no contract where both be not content, no banes asked lawfully where one of the parties forbiddeth thē, no marriage made where no match was ment: But I will hereafter frame my selfe to be coy, séeing I am clai­med for a wife bicause I haue bene courteous, and giue my selfe to melancholy, seing I am accompted wonne in that I haue bene merrie: And if euery gentleman be made of the mettall that Philautus is, then I feare I shall be challenged of as many as I haue vsed to com­pany with, and bée a common wife to all those that haue commonly resorted hether.

My duetie therefore euer reserued, I héere on my knées forsweare Philautus for my husband, althoughe I accept him for my friende, and séeing I shall hardly bée induced euer to match with any, I beséeche you if by your Fatherly loue, I shall bée compelled, that I may match wyth such a one, as both I may loue, and you may like.

Ferardo béeing a graue and wise Gentleman, al­though he were throughly angry, yet he dissembled his fury, to the ende he might by craft discouer hir fan­cie, and whispering Philautus in the eare (who stood as though he had a Flea in his eare) desired him to kéepe silence, vntil he had vndermined hir by subtiltie, which Philautus hauing graunted, Ferardo began to sift his daughter with this deuice.

Lucilla thy coulour sheweth thée to be in a greate choler, and thy hot woords bewray thy heauy wrath, but bée patient, séeinge all my talke was onelye to trye thée, I am neyther so vnnaturall to wreaste thee against thine owne will, neyther so malytious [Page] to wedde thée to any, agaynste thine owne likinge: for well I knowe what iarres, what ielousie, what s [...]riefe, what stormes ensue, where the matche is made rather by the compulsion of the parents, then by consent of the parties, neyther doe I like thée the lesse, in that thou lykest Philautus so little, neyther can Philautus loue thée the worse, in that thou lo­uest thy selfe so well, wishinge rather to stande to thy chaunce, then to the choyse of any other. But this gryueth mée most, that thou art almost vowed to the vayne order of the vestall virgins, despisinge, or at the least not desiring the sacred bandes of Iu­no hir bedde. If thy Mother had bene of that minde when shée was a mayden, thou haddest not nowe bene borne to bée of this minde to bée a virginne: Waye wyth thy selfe what slender profile they bring to the common wealth, what sleight pleasure to themselues, what greate griefe to theire parentes which ioye most in their ofspringe and desire, moste to enioye the noble and blessed name of a graundfa­ther.

Thou knowest that the tallest Ashe is cut downe for fuell, bycause it beareth no good fruite, that the Cowe that gyues no mylke is brought to the slaugh­ter, that the Drone that gathereth no honny is con­temned, that the woman that maketh hyr selfe bar­ren by not marryinge, is accompted amonge the Grecian Ladyes worse then a carryon, as Homere reporteth. Therefore Lucilla if thou haue any care to bee a comforte to mye hoarye haires, or a com­modity [...] to thy common weale, frame thy selfe to that honourable estate of matrimonye, whiche was sanctified in Paradise, allowed of the Patriarches, hallowed of the olde Prophetes, and commended of [Page 28] all persons. If thou lyke any, bée not ashamed to tell it mée, whiche onely am to exhorte thée, yea, and as much as in mee lyeth to commaunde thée, to loue one: If hée bée base thy bloude wyll make hym noble, if beggerlye thy goodes shall make hym wealthy, if a straunger thy fréedome may enfraunchise hym: if hée bée younge he is the more fitter to be thy pheare, if he be olde the lyker to thine aged Fa­ther. For I had rather thou shouldest leade a lyfe to thine owne lykeinge in earthe, then to thy greate tormentes leade Apes in Hell. Be bolde therefore to make me partner of thy desire, whiche will be partaker of thy dysease, yea, and a furtherer of thy delights, as farre as either my friendes, or my landes, or my life will stretch.

Lucilla perceiuinge the drifte of the olde Foxe hir Father, wayed with hir selfe what was beste to be done, at the laste not wayinge hir Fathers yll wyll, but encouraged by loue, shaped hym an aun­swere whiche pleased Ferardo but [...] little, and pin­ched Philautus on the parsons side on thys man­ner.

¶Déere Father Ferardo, althoughe I sée the bayte you laye to catche me, yet I am content to swallowe the hooke, neyther are you more desirous to take me nappinge, then I willinge to confesse my meaninge. So it is that loue hath as well in­ueigled me as others, which make it as straunge as I. Neyther doe I loue hym so meanely that I should be ashamed of his name, neyther is hys personage so meane that I shoulde loue hym shamefullye: It is Euphues that lately arryued heere at Naples, that hath battered the bulwarke of my breste, and shall shortly enter as conquerour into my bosome: [Page] What his wealth is I neither know it nor waye it [...] what his wit is all Naples doth knowe it, and won­der at it, neyther haue I bene curious to enquire of his progenitors, for that I knowe so noble a minde could take no Originall but from a noble man, for as no birde can looke againe the Sunne, but those that bée bredde of the Eagle, neyther any Hawke soare so hie as the broode of the Hobbie, so no wight can haue suche excellent qualities excepte hée des­cend of a noble race, neyther be of so highe capacitie, vnlesse hée issue of a high progenie. And I hope Phi­lautus wyll not bée my foe, séeinge I haue chosen his déere friende, neither you Father bée displeased in that Philautus is displaced. You néede not muse that I shoulde so sodeinely bée intangled, loue giues no reason of choice, neither will it suffer anye repulse. Mirha was enamoured of hir naturall Father, Bib­lis of hir brother, Phaedra of hir sonne in lawe: If nature can no way resist the fury of affection, howe should it be stayed by wisdome?

Ferardo interrupting hir in the middle of hyr dis­course, although he were moued with inward grudge, yet he wisely repressed his anger, knowing that sharpe wordes would but sharpen hir froward wil, and thus answered hir briefly.

Lucilla, as I am not presently to graunt my good will, so meane I not to reprehende thy choyce, yet wisdome wylleth mee to pawse, vntill I haue cal­led what maye happen to my remembraunce, and warneth thee to bée circumspecte, leaste thy rashe conceyte bringe a sharpe repentaunce. As for you Philautus I woulde not haue you dispaire séeinge a woman dothe oftentimes chaunge hir desire. Un­to whome Philautus in fewe woordes made aun­swere.

[Page 29]Certeinely Ferardo I take the lesse griefe in that I sée hir so greedy after Euphues, and by so much the more I am content to leaue my sute, by how much the more she séemeth to disdayne my seruice, but as for hope bi­cause I woulde not by any meanes tast one dramme thereoff, I will abiure all places of hir abode and loath hir company, whose countenaunce I haue so much lo­ued, as for Euphues, and there staying his speache, hée flange out of the dores and repairing to his lodginge vttered these words.

Ah most dissembling wretch Euphues, O counter­fayte companion, couldest thou vnder the shewe of a stedfast friende cloake the mallice of a mortall foe? vn­der the coulour of simplicitie, shrowd the Image of de­ceit? Is thy Liuia tourned to my Lucilla, thy loue to my louer, thy deuotion to my Sainct? Is this the cur­tesie of Athens, the cauillyng of schollers, the craft of Grecians? Couldest thou not remember Philautus that Greece is neuer without some wily Vlisses, neuer void of some Synon, neuer to séeke of some deceitfull shifter? Is it not commonly saide of Grecians that crafte com­meth to them by kinde, that they learne to deceiue in their cradell? Why then did his pretended curtesie be­witch thée with such credulytie? shall my good will bée the cause of his ill wil? bicause I was content to be his friende, thought he mée méete to be made his foole? I sée now that as the fish Scolopidus in the floud Araris at the waxinge of the Moone is as white as the driuen snow, and at the wayning as blacke as the burnt coale, so Euphues, which at the first encreasing of our fami­lyaritie, was very zealous, is nowe at the last cast be­come most faythlesse. But why rather exclaime I not agaynst Lucilla, whose wanton lookes caused Euphues to vyolate his plyghted fayth? Ah wretched wenche canst thou b [...] so lyght of loue, as to chaunge with eue­ry [Page] winde? so vnconstant as to preserre a new louer be­fore thine olde friende? Ah well I wotte that a newe broome sweepeth cleane, and a new garment maketh thée leaue off the olde thoughe it be fitter, and newe wine causeth thée to forsake the olde though it be better, much lyke to the men in the Ilande Scyrum, which pull vpp the olde tree when they se the young beginne to spring, and not vnlike vnto the widow of Lesbos, which chan­ged all hir olde golde for new glasse, haue I serued thée thrée yeares faithfully, and am I serued so vnkindely? shall the fruite of my desire be tourned to disdayne? But vnlesse Euphues had inueigled thée thou haddest yet bene constant, yea but if Euphues had not séene thée willyng to be wonne, he would neuer haue woed thée, but had not Euphues enticed thée with faire wordes, thou wouldest neuer haue loued him, but haddest thou not giuen him faire lookes, he would neuer haue lyked thée: I, but Euphues gaue the onset, I, but Lucilla gaue the occasion, I, but Euphues first brake his minde, I, but Lncilla first bewrayed hir meaning. Tush why go I about to excuse any of them, séeing I haue iuste cause to accuse them both? Neyther ought I to dispute which of them hath proffered me the greatest villanye, sith that eyther of them hath committed periurie. Yet although they haue founde me dull in perceiuing theire falshood, they shall not finde me slacke in reuēging their folly. As for Lucilla séeing I meane altogether to for­gette hir, I meane also to forgiue hir, least in séeking meanes to be reuenged, mine olde desire be renewed. Philautus hauing thus discoursed with himselfe, began to write to Euphues as followeth.

ALthoughe hetherto Euphues I haue shrined thée in my heart for a trustie friende, I will shunne thée héeraf [...]er as a trothles foe, and although I cannot sée in [Page 30] thee lesse witte then I was w [...]nt, y [...]t doe I finde lesse honestie, I perceiue at the last (although béeing decei­ued it be to late) that Muske although it be swéet in the smell, is sower in the smacke, that the leafe of the Ce­dar trée though it be faire to be séene, yet the siroppe de­priueth sight, that friendshippe though it be plighted by shaking the hande, yet it is shaken off by fraude of the hearte. But thou hast not much to boaste off, [...]or as thou hast wonne a fickle Lady, so hast thou lost a fayth­full friende. How canst thou be secure of hir constan­cie when thou hast had such tryall of hir lyghtenesse?

Howe canst thou assure thy selfe that she will be faithfull to thée, which hath bene faithlesse to mee? Ah Euphues, let not my credulytie be an occasion héereaf­ter for thée to practise the lyke crueltie. Remember this that yet ther hath neuer bene any faithles to his friend, that hath not also bene fruitelesse to his God. But I waye this trechery the lesse, in that it commeth from a Grecian in whome is no trothe. Thoughe I be to weake to wrastle for a reuenge, yet God who permit­teth no guyle to be guyltlesse, will shortely requite this iniury, thoughe Philautus haue no pollycie to vnder­mine thée, yet thine owne practises will be sufficient to ouerthrow thée.

Couldest thou Euphues for the loue of a fruitelesse pleasure, vyolate the league of faythfull friendeshippe? Diddest thou waye more the entising lookes of a lewd wenche, then the entyre loue of a loyall friende? If thou diddest determine with thy selfe at the firste to be false, why diddest thou sweare to bée true? If to bée true, why arte thou false? If thou wast mynded both falselye and forgedlye to deceiue mée, why diddest thou flatter and dissemble with mée at the firste? If to loue me, why doest thou flinche at the last? If the sacred bands of amitie did d [...]lyght thée, [Page] why didd [...]st thou breake them? if dislyke thée, why did­dest thou prayse them? Dost thou not know that a per­fect fri [...]nde should be lyke the Glazeworme, which shi­neth m [...]st bright in the darke? or lyke the pure Franc­k [...]nc [...]ns [...] which smelleth most swéete when it is in the [...]? or at the leaste not vnlyke to the Damaske Rose which is sweeter in the still then on the stalke? But thou Euphues, dost rather resemble the Swallow which in the Summer créepeth vnder the eues of euery house, and in the Winter leaueth nothing but durte behinde hir, or the humble Bee which hauing sucked honny out of the faire flower doth leaue it & loath it, or the Spi­der which in the finest webbe doth hang the fairest Fly. Dost thou thinke Euphues that thy crafte in betraying me, shall any whit coole my courage in reuenging thy villany? or that a Gentleman of Naples will put vpp such an iniury at the hands of a Scholler? And if I doe, it is not for want of strengthe to maynteyne my iust quarrell, but of will which thinketh scorne to gette so vayne a conquest. I know that Menelaus for his tenne yeares warre endured ten yeares woe, that after all his strife he wan but a Strumpet, that for all his trauails he reduced (I cannot say reclaymed) but a straggeler: which was as much in my iudgement, as to striue for a broken glasse which is good for nothing. I wish thée rather Menelaus care, then my selfe his conquest, that thou beeing deluded by Lucilla maist rather know what it is to be deceiued, then I hauinge conquered thée should prooue what it were to bring backe a dissembler. Séeing therefore there can no greater reuenge lyghte vppon thee, then that as thou hast reaped where an o­ther hath sowen, so an other may thresh y ^t which thou hast reaped: I will pray that thou mayst be measured vnto with the lyke measure that thou hast meaten vn­to others: that as thou hast thought it no conscience [Page 31] to betray me, so others may déeme it no dishonestie to deceiue thée, that as Lucilla made it a lyght matter to forsweare hir olde friend Philautus, so she may make it a mocke to forsake hir new phéere Euphues. Which if it come to passe as it is lyke by my compasse, then shalt thou see the troubles, & féele the torments which thou hast already thrown into the harts and eyes of others. Thus hoping shortly to sée thée as hopelesse, as my selfe is haplesse, I wish my wish were as effectually ended as it is heartely looked for. And so I leaue thée.

Thine once Philautus.

Philautus dispatching a messenger with this letter spéedely to Euphues, went into the fields to walke ther eyther to digeste his choler or chew vppon his melan­choly. But Euphues hauing reade the contents was well content, setting his talke at naughte and aunswe­ring his taunts in these gibing tearmes.

I Remember Philautus how valyauntly Aiax boa­sted in the feats of armes, yet Vlysses bare away the armour, and it may be that though thou crake of thine own courage, thou mayst easely lose the conquest. Dost thou thinke Euphues such a dastarde that he is not able to withstande thy courage, or such a dullarde that he cannot descry thy crafte. Alas good soule. It fa­reth with thée as with the Henne, which when y ^e Put­tocke hath caught hir Chicken beginneth to cackle: and thou hauing lost thy louer beginnest to prattle. Tush Philautus, I am in this poynt of Euripides his minde, who thinkes it lawfull for the desire of a kingdome to transgresse the bounds of honestie, and for the loue of a Lady to violate and breake the bands of amitie. The friendshippe betweene man and man as it is com­mon [Page] so is it of course, betwéene man and woman as it is seldome so is it sincere, the one procéedeth of the simi­litude of manners, y ^e other of the sinceritio, of the heart: if thou haddest learned the first poynt of hauking thou wouldst haue learned to haue held frst, or the first noat of Deskant thou wouldest haue kept thy sol. fa. to thy selfe.

But thou canst blame me no more of folly in leauing thee to loue Lucilla, then thou mayst reproue him of foo­lishnesse that hauing a Sparrowe in his hande letteth hir go to catch the Phesaunt, or him of vnskilfulnesse that seeing the Heron, leaueth to leauell his shoot at the Stockedoue, or that woman of coynesse that hauing a deade Rose in hir bosome, throweth it away to gather the fresh Uiolette. Loue knoweth no lawes: Did not Iupiter transforme himselfe into the shape of Amphi­trio to imbrace Al [...]maena? Into the forme of a Swan to enioye Laeda? Into a Bull to beguyle [...]o? Into a showre of golde to winne Danae? Did not Neptune chaunge himselfe into a Heyfer, a Ramme, a Floude, a Dolphin, onelye for the loue of those he lusted after? Did not Apollo conuerte himselfe into a Shep­heard, into a Birde, into a Lyon, for the desire he had to heale hys disease? If the Gods thoughte no scorne to become beastes, to obtayne their best beloued, shall Euphues be so nyce in chaunging his coppie to gayne his Lady? No, no, he that cannot dissemble in loue, is not worthy to liue. I am of this minde, that both might and mallice, deceite and treacherie, all periurie, anye impietie may lawfully be committed in loue, which is lawlesse. In that thou arguest Lucilla of lyghtnesse, thy will hangs in the lyghte of thy witte: Dost thou not know that the weake stomacke if it be cloyed with one dyet doth soone surfe [...]? That the clownes Garlike can­not ease the cour [...]iers disease so well as the pure Trea­cle? [Page 32] that farre fette and deare bought is good for Ladies? That Euphues being a more dayntie morsell then Phi­lautus, oughte better to be accepted? Tush Philautus sette thy heart at rest, for thy happe willeth thée to giue ouer all hope both of my friendship, and hir loue, as [...]or reuenge thou arte not so able to lende a blowe as I toward it, neyther more venterous to challenge the com­batte, then I valyaunt to aunswer the quarrel. As Lu­cilla was caught by frawde so shall she be kept by force, and as thou wast too simple to espye my crafte, so I thinke thou wilt be too weake to withstande my c [...]u­rage, but if thy reuenge stande onely vppon thy wish, thou shalt neuer lyue to sée my woe, or to haue thy wil, and so farewell.

Euphues

This letter beinge dispatched, Euphues sent it and Philautus read it, who disdayning those proud termes, disdayned also to aunswere them, being ready to ride with Ferardo.

Euphues hauing for a space absented himselfe from the house of Ferardo, bicause he was at home, longed sore to sée Lucilla which now opportunitie offered vnto him, Ferardo being gone agayne to Venice with Phi­lautus, but in his absence one Curio a gentleman of Naples of lyttle wealth and lesse witte haunted Lucilla hir company, & so enchaunted hir, y ^t Euphues was also cast off with Philautus which thing being vnknowne to Euphues, caused him y ^e sooner to make his repaire to the presence of his Lady, whom he finding in hir mu­ses began pleasauntly to salute in this manner.

Mistresse Lucilla, although my long ab [...]ence might bréede your iust anger, (for y ^e louers desire nothing so much as of [...]en méeting) yet I hope my presence will dis­solue y [...]ur choler ( [...]or y ^e louers are soone pleas [...]d when of [Page] their wishes they be fully possessed.) My absence is the rather to be excused in y ^t your father hath ben alwaies at home, whose frownes séemed to threaten my ill for­tune, and my presence at this present the better to bée accepted in that I haue made suche spéedye repayre to your presence.

Unto whom Lucilla aunswered with this glyeke.

Truely Euphues you haue miste the cushion, for I was neyther angrie with your longe absence, neyther am I well pleased at your presence, the one gaue me rather a good hope héereafter neuer to sée you, the other giueth me a greater occasion to abhorre you.

Euphues being nipped on the head, with a pale coun­tenaunce, as though his soule had forsaken his body re­plyed as followeth.

If this sodayne change Lucilla, procéede of any de­sert of mine, I am héere not only to aunswere the fact, but also to make amends for my faulte: if of any new motion or minde to forsake your new friend, I am ra­ther to lament your inconstancie then reuenge it, but I hope that such hot loue cannot be so soone colde, neyther such sure faith, be rewarded with so sodeyne forgetful­nesse.

Lucilla not ashamed to confesse hir folly, aunswered him with this f [...]umpe.

Sir whether your deserts or my desire haue wrought this chaunge, it will boote you lyttle to know, neyther doe I craue amends, neyther feare reuenge, as for fer­uent loue, you knowe there is no fire so hotte but it is quenched with water, neyther affection so strong but is weakened with reason, let [...]e this suffice thee that thou know I care not for thée.

In deede (sayd Euphues) to know the cause of your alteration would boote me lyttle seeing the effect taketh such force. I haue hearde that women eyther loue en­tirely [Page 33] or hate deadly, and séeing you haue put me out of doubt of the one, I must needes perswade my selfe of the other. This chaunge will cause Philautus to laugh me to scorne, & double thy lightnesse in [...]ning so often. Such was the hope that I conceiued of thy constancie, y ^t I spared not i [...] al places to blaze thy loi­altie, but now my rash conceite will proue me a lyer, and thée a light huswife.

Nay (sayd Lucilla) nowe shalt not thou laugh Phi­lautus to scorne, séeing you haue both druncke of one cup, in miserie Euphues it is a great comfort to haue a companion. I doubt not, but that you wil both conspire against me to worke some mischiefe, although I no­thing feare your mallice, whosoeuer accompteth you a lyar for praising me, may also déeme you a letcher for being enamoured of me, and whosoeuer iudgeth mée light in forsaking of you, may thincke thee as lewde in louing of me, for thou that thoughtest it lawfull to deceiue thy friende, must take no scorne to be deceiued of thy foe.

Then I perceiue Lucilla (sayd he) that I was made thy stale, and Philautus thy laughinge stocke, whose friendship (I must confesse in déede) I haue refused to obteine thy fauour, and sithens an other hath won that we both haue lost, I am content for my part neyther ought I to be grieued seing thou art fickle.

Certes Euphues (said Lucilla) you spend your winde in wast for your welcome is but small, & your chere is like to be lesse, fancie giueth no reason of his chaunge neither wil be cōtrolled for any choice, this is therfore to warne you, y ^t from hencefoorth you neither sollicite this suite neither offer any way your seruice, I haue chosen one (I must néeds confesse) neither to be compa­red to Philautus in wealth, nor to thée in wit, neither in birth to the worst of you both, I thinck God gaue it [Page] me for a iust plague, for renouncing Philautus, & choo­sing thée, and sithens I am an ensample to all women of lightnesse, I am lyke also to be a myrrour to them all of vnhappinesse, which ill lucke I must take by so much the more patiently, by howe much the more I acknowledge my selfe to haue deserued it worthely. Well Lucilla (aunswered Euphues) this case bréedeth my sorrowe the more, in that it is so sodeine, and by so much the more I lament it, by howe muche the lesse I looked for it. In that my welcome is so colde and my chéere so simple, it nothing toucheth me, séeinge your furye is so hotte, and my misfortune so greate that I am neither wyllinge to receiue it, nor you to bestowe it, if tract of time, or want of tryall had caused this Metamorphosis my griefe had bene more tollerable, and your fléetinge more excusable, but comming in a moment vndeserued, vnlooked for, vn­thoughte off, it encreaseth my sorrowe and thy shame.

Euphues (quoth shée) you make a longe haruest for a little corne, and angle for the fishe that is alrea­dy caught. Curio, yea, Curio, is he that hath my loue at his pleasure, and shall also haue my life at his com­maundement, and although you déeme him vnworthy to enioye that which earst you accompted no wight worthy to embrace, yet séeinge I estéeme him more worth then any, he is to be reputed as chiefe. The Wolfe chooseth him for hir make, that hath or doth endure most trauaile for hir sake. Venus was con­tent to take the black Smith with his powlt foot. Cor­nelia here in Naples disdained not to loue a rude Mil­ler. As for chaunging, did not Helen y ^e pearle of Greece thy countriwoman first take Menelaus, then Theseus, and last of all Paris? if brute beastes giue vs en­samples that those are most to be lyked, of whome [Page 34] we are best beloued, or if the Princesse of beautye Venus, and hir heyres Helen, and Cornelia, shewe that our affection standeth on our free wyll: then am I rather to bee excused then accused. Therefore good Euphues bée as merrye as you maye bée, for time maye so tourne that once agayne you maye bée.

Nay Lucilla (sayd he) my haruest shall cease, séeing others haue reaped my corne, as for anglinge for the fishe that is alreadye caught, that were but méere folly. But in my minde if you bée a fishe you are either an Ele which as soone as one hathe holde of hir taile, will slippe out of his hand, or else a Myn­nowe which will be nibbling at euery baite but ne­uer biting: But what fishe soeuer you bée you haue made both mée and Philautus to swallow a Gudgen. If Curio bée the person, I would neither wishe thée a greater plague, nor him a deadlyer poyson. I for my part thincke him worthy of thée, and thou vn­worthy of him, for although hée bée in bodye defor­med, in minde foolishe, an innocent borne, a begger by misfortune, yet doth hée deserue a better then thy selfe, whose corrupt manners haue staynde thy hea­uenly hewe, whose light behauiour hath dimmed the lightes of thy beautie, whose vnconstant mynde hath betrayed the innocencie of so many a Gentle­man. And in that you bringe in the example of a beast to confirme your folly, you shewe therein your beastly disposition, which is readie to followe suche beastlinesse. But Venus played false: and what for that? séeinge hir lightnesse serueth for an example, I woulde wishe thou mightest trye hir punishment for a reward, that béeing openly taken in an yron net al the world might iudge whether thou be fish or flesh, and certes in my minde no angle will holde thee, [Page] it must be a net. Cornelia loued a Miller, and thou a miser, can hir folly excuse thy fault? Helen of Greece my countriewoman borne, but thine by profession, chaunged and rechaunged at hir pleasure I graunte. Shall the lewdenesse of others animate thée in thy lightnesse? why then dost thou not haunt the stewes bicause Lais frequented them? why doest thou not loue a Bull séeing Pasiphae loued one? why art thou not enamoured of thy father knowing y ^t Mirha was so incensed? these are set down that we viewing their incontinencie, should flye y ^e like impudencie, not follow the like excesse, neither can they excuse thée of any in­constancie. Merrie I will be as I may, but if I may héereafter as thou meanest, I will not, and therefore farewell Lucilla, the most inconstant that euer was nursed in Naples, farewell Naples the most cursed towne in all Italy, and women all farewell.

Euphues hauing thus gyuen hir his last farewell, yet beeing solitary began a fresh to recount his sorrow on this manner.

Ah Euphues into what a quandarie art thou brought? in what sodeine misfortune art thou wrapped? it is like to fare with thée as with the Eagle, which dyeth neither for age, nor with sickenesse, but wyth fa­mine, for although thy stomacke hunger yet thy heart will not suffer thée to eate. And why shouldest thou torment thy selfe for one in whome is neyther fayth nor feruencie? O the counterfaite loue of women. Oh inconstant sex. I haue lost Philautus, I haue lost Lucilla, I haue lost that which I shall hardlye finde againe, a faythfull friende. A foolishe Euphues why diddest thou leaue Athens the nourse of wis­dome, to inhabite Naples the nourisher of wanton­nesse? Had it not bene better for thée to haue eaten salt with the Philosophers in Greece, then sugar with [Page 35] the courtiers of Italy? But behold the course of youth which alwayes inclyneth to pleasure, I forsooke mine olde companions to search for new friends, I reiected the graue and fatherly counsayle of Eubulus, to follow the brainesicke humor of mine owne will. I addicted my selfe wholy to the seruice of women to spende my lyfe in the lappes of Ladyes, my lands in maintenance of brauerie, my witte in the vanities of idle Sonnets. I had thought that women had bene as we men, that is true, faithfull, zealous, constant, but I perceiue they be rather woe vnto men, by their falshood, gelousie, in­constancie. I was halfe perswaded that they were made of the perfection of men, & would be comforters, but now I sée they haue tasted of the infection of the Serpent, and will be corasiues. The Phisition saythe it is daungerous to minister Phisicke vnto the patient that hath a colde stomacke and a hotte lyuer, least in giuing warmth to the one he inflame the other, so ve­rely it is harde to deale with a woman whose wordes séeme feruent, whose heart is congealed into harde yce, least trusting their outwarde talke, he be betraied with their inwarde trechery. I will to Athens ther to tosse my bookes, no more in Naples to lyue with faire lookes. I will so frame my selfe as al youth héereafter shal ra­ther reioice to se mine amendmēt then be animated to follow my former lyfe. Philosophie, Phisicke, Diuini­tie, shal be my studie. O y ^e hidden secrets of Nature, the expresse image of morall vertues, the equall ballaunce of Iustice, the medicines to heale all diseases, how they beginne to delyght me. The Axiomaes of Aristotle, the Maxinis of Iustinian, the Aphorismes of Galen, haue sodaynelye made such a breache into my minde that I séeme onely to desire them which did onely earst detest them. I [...], witte be employed in the honest study of lear­ning what thing so pretious as witte? if in the idle [Page] trade of loue what thing more pestilent then witte? The proofe of late hath bene verefied in me, whome nature hath endued with a lyttle witte, which I haue abused with an obstinate will, most true it is that the thing y ^e better it is the greater is the abuse, and that ther is nothing but through the mallice of man may be abused.

Doth not y ^e fire (an element so necessarie that with­out it man cannot lyue) as well burne y ^e house as burne in the house if it be abused? Doth not Treacle as wel poyson as helpe if it be taken out of time? Doth not wine if it be immoderately taken kill the stomacke, en­flame the lyuer, murther the droncken? Doth not Phi­sicke destroy if it be not well tempred? Doth not law accuse if it be not ryghtly interpreted? Doth not diui­nitie condemne if it be not faythfully construed? Is not poyson taken out of the Honnysuckle by the Spider, venime out of the Rose by the Canker, dunge out of the Maple trée by the Scorpion? Euen so the greatest wickednesse is drawne out of the greatest wit, if it bée abused by will, or entangled with the world, or inueig-with women.

But séeinge I sée mine owne impietie, I wyll endeuoure my selfe to amende all that is paste, and to be a myrrour of godlynes héereafter. The Rose though a lyttle it be eaten with the Canker yet béeing distilled yéeldeth swéete water, the yron thoughe fretted with the ruste yet béeing burnte in the fire shyneth brighter, and witte although it hath bene eaten with the canker of his owne conceite, and fretted with the rust of vaine loue, yet beeinge purified in the still of wisedome, and tryed in the fire of zeale, will shine bright and smell swéete in the nosethrilles of all young nouises.

As therefore I gaue a farewell to Lucilla, a fare­well to Naples, a farewell to woemen, so now doe I [Page 36] giue a farewell to the worlde, meaning rather to ma­cerate my selfe with melancholye then pine in fol­lye, rather choosinge to dye in my studye amiddest my bookes, then to courte it in Italy, in the company of Ladyes.

It happened immediatly Ferardo to retourne home, who hearing this straunge euent was not a lyttle a­mazed, and was nowe more readye to exhorte Lucilla from the loue of Curio, then before to the lykinge of Philautus. Therefore in all haste, with watry [...] eyes, and a wofull heart, began on this manner to rea­son with his daughter.

Lucilla (daughter I am ashamed to call thée, séeing thou hast neyther care of thy fathers tender affection, nor of thine owne credite) what sprite hath enchaunted thy spirite that euery minute thou alterest thy minde? I had thought that my hoary haires should haue found comforte by thy golden lockes, and my rotten age greate ease by thy rype yeares. But alas I sée in thée neyther witte to order thy doinges neyther will to frame thy selfe to discretion, neither the nature of a child, neyther the nurture of a mayden, neyther (I can­not without teares speake it) any regarde of thine ho­nour, neyther any care of thine honestie.

I am nowe enforced to remember thy mothers deathe, who I thincke was a Prophetesse in hir lyfe, for oftentimes shée woul [...]e saye that thou had­dest more beautie then was conuenient for one that shoulde bée honeste, and more c [...]ckering then was méete for one that shoulde bée a Matrone.

Woulde I had neuer lyued to bée so olde or thou to bée so obstinate, eyther woulde I had dyed in my youthe in the courte, or thou in thy cradle, I woulde to God that eyther I [...] had neuer bene borne, [Page] or thou neuer bredde. Is this the comfort that the pa­rent reapeth for all his care? Is obstinacie payed for o­bedience, stubbernnesse rendred for duetie, mallitious desperatenesse, for filiall feare? I perceiue now that the wi [...]e Paynter saw more then y ^e foolish parent can, who paynted loue going downeward, saying it might well descend, but ascende it coulde neuer. Danaus whome they reporte to bée the father of fiftie children, had a­monge them all but one that disobeyed him in a thinge most dishonest, but I that am father to one more then I would be although one be all, haue that one most dis­obedient to me in a request lawfull and reasonable. If Danaus séeing but one of his daughters without awe became himselfe without mercie, what shall Ferardo doe in this case who hath one and all most vnnaturall to him in a most iust cause? Shall Curio enioy y ^e fruite of my trauailes, possesse the benefite of my labours, en­herit the patrimony of mine auncestors, who hath nei­ther wisedome to increase thē, nor wit to kéepe thē? wilt thou Lucilla bestow thy self on such an one as hath nei­ther comlines in his body, nor knowledge in his minde, nor credite in his countrey. Oh I would thou haddest eyther bene euer faithfull to Philautus, or neuer faith­lesse to Euphues, or would thou wouldest be more fic­kle to Curio. As thy beautie hath made thée blaze of Italy, so will thy lyghtnes make thée the bye word of y ^e world. O Lucilla, Lucilla, woulde thou wert lesse fayre or more fortunate, eyther of lesse honour or greater ho­nestie? eyther better minded, or soone buryed. Shall thine olde father lyue to sée thée match with a younge foole? shall my kinde hearte be rewarded with such vn­kinde hate? Ah Lucilla thou knowest not the care of a father, nor the duetie of a childe, and as farre art thou from pietie, as I from crueltie.

Nature will not permitte me to disherit my daugh­ter, [Page 37] and yet it will suffer thée to dishonour thy father. Affection causeth me to wishe thy life, and shall it en­tice thée to procure my death? It is mine onely com­fort to sée thée florishe in thy youth, and is it thine, to see me fade in mine age? to conclude, I desire to liue to sée thee prosper, & thou to sée me perish. But why cast I the effect of this vnnaturalnesse in thy téeth, séeing I my selfe was the cause? I made thée a wanton and thou hast made mée a foole, I brought thee vpp lyke a cockney, and thou hast handled mee lyke a cockescombe (I speake it to mine owne shame) I made more of thée then became a Father, & thou lesse of me then beséemed a childe. And shal my louing care be cause of thy wicked crueltie? yea, yea, I am not the first that hath bene too carefull, nor the last that shall bée handled so vnkindely, it is common to sée Fathers too fonde, and children to frowarde. Well Lucilla the teares which thou séest trickle downe my [...]héekes and the droppes of bloude (whiche thou canst not see) that fall from my heart, enforce me to make an ende of my talke, and if thou haue any duetie of a childe, or care of a friende, or courtesie of a straun­ger, or féelinge of a Christian, or humanitie of a rea­sonable creature, then release thy Father of gryefe, and acquite thy selfe of vngratefulnesse, otherwyse thou shalte but hasten my deathe, and encrease thine owne defame, which if thou doe the gaine is mine, and the losse thine, and both infinite.

Lucilla eyther so bewitched that shee coulde not relente or so wicked that shée woulde not yelde to hir Fathers request aunswered him on this man­ner.

Déere Father as you woulde haue mée to shewe the duetie of a childe, so ought you to shewe the care of a parent, and as the one standeth in obedience [Page] so the other is grounded vpon reason. You would haue me as I owe duetie to you to leaue Curio, and I desire you as, you owe mée any loue, that you suffer me to enioye him. If you accuse mée of vn­naturalnesse in that I yelde not to your request, I am also to condemne you of vnkindenesse, in that you graunt not my petition. You obiecte I knowe not what to Curio, but it is the eye of the maister that fatteth the horse, and the loue of the woman, that maketh the man. To giue reason for fancie were to weighe the fire, and measure the winde. If therefore my delight bée the ca [...]se of your death, I thincke my sorrowe would bée an occasion of your solace. And if you be angrye bicause I am pleased, certes I déeme you woulde be content if I were de­ceased: which if it be so that my pleasure bréede your paine, and mine annoy your ioye, I may well say that you are an vnkinde Father, and I an vnfortunate childe. But good Father either content your selfe wyth my choice, or let me stand to the maine chaunce, otherwise the griefe will be mine, and the fault yours and both vntollerable.

Ferardo séeinge his daughter, to haue neither re­garde of hir owne honour nor his request [...] conceyued such an inwarde gryefe, that in short space hée dyed, leauing Lucilla the onely heire of his landes, and Curio to possesse them, but what ende came of hir, séeing it is nothing incident to the history of Euphues, it were superfluous to insert it, and so incredible that all women would rather wonder at it thou beléeue it, which euent being so straūge, I had rather leaue them in a muse what it should bee, then in a maze in telling what it was.

Philautus hauing intelligence of Euphues his suc­cesse, and the falshoode of Lucilla, although he began [Page 38] to reioyce at the miserye of his fellowe, yet séeinge hir ficklenesse coulde not but lamente hir follye, and pittie his friendes misfortune. Thinckinge that the lightnesse of Lucilla enticed Euphues to so great liking.

Euphues and Phila [...]tus hauing conference be­twéene themselues, castinge discourtesie in the téeth each of the other, but chiefly noting disloyaltie in the demeanor of Lucilla, after much talke renewed their olde friendship both abandoning Lucilla as most ab­hominable. Philautus was earnest to haue Euphues [...]arrie in Naples, and Euphues desirous to haue Phi­lautus to Athens, but the one was so addicted to the court, the other so wedded to the vniuersitie, that each refused y ^e offer of the other, yet this they agréed betwéene themselues that though their bodyes were by distaunce of place seuered, yet the coniunction of their mindes shoulde neither bée seperated, by the length of time, nor alienated by chaunge of soyle. I for my parte sayde Euphues to confirme thys league gyue thée my hand and my heart, and so likewise did Philautus, and so shaking handes they bid each other farewell.

Euphues to the intent hée might bridell the ouerlashing affections of Philautus, conuayed into his studye, a certeyne pamphlet which hée termed a coolinge carde for Philautus, yet generallye to be applyed to all louers which I haue inserted as fol­loweth.

IT is commonly sayd, yet doe I thinke it a common lye, that Experience is the Mistresse of fooles, for in my opinion they be most fooles that want it. Ney­ther am I one of y ^e least that haue try­ed this true, neither he onely that heretofore déemed it to be false. I was héereof a studente of great wealth, of some wit of no smal acquayntance, yet haue I learned that by Experience, that I shoulde hardly haue séene by learning. I haue thorowly sifted the disposition of youth, wherein I haue founde more branne then meale, more dowe then leauen, more rage then reason. He that hath bene burned knoweth the force of the fire, he that hath bene stoung, remembreth the smarte of the Scorpion, he that hath endured the brunts of fancie, knoweth best how to eschew y ^e broyles of affection. Let therefore my counsayle be of such auc­thoritie as it may commaund you to be sober, your con­uersation of such integritie, as it may encourage mée to go forwarde in that which I haue taken in hande: the whole effect shall be to sette downe a young man so ab­solute as that nothing may be added to his further per­fection. And although Plato hath ben so curious in his common weale, Aristotle so precise in his happy man, Tullie so pure in his orator, that we may well wish to see them, but neuer haue anye hope to enioy them, yet shall my young Impe be such an one as shall be perfect euery way and yet common, if dilygence and industrie be imployed to the attayning of such perfection. But I would not haue young men slowe to followe my pre­cepts, or idle to defer the time lyke Saint George, who is euer on horse backe yet neuer rideth.

If my counsell shall séeme rigorous to fathers to in­structe their children, or heauie for youth to follow their parents will: Let them both remember that the Estrich [Page 41] disgesteth harde yron to preserue his healthe, that the souldiour lyeth in his harnesse to atchieue conquest, that the sicke patient swalloweth bitter pilles to be eased of his griefe, that youth shoulde indure sharpe stormes to finde reliefe.

I my selfe had bene happye if I had bene vnfortu­nate, wealthy if lefte meanely, better learned if I had bene better lyued, we haue an olde (Prouerb) youth will haue his course. Ah gentlemen it is a course which we ought to make a course accompte off, replenished with more miseries thē olde age, with more sinnes then com­mō cutthroats, with more calamities thē y ^e date of Pri­amus: we are no sooner out of the shell but we resem­ble the Cocyx which destroyeth it selfe thorowe selfe will, or the Pellican which pearceth a wounde in hir owne breast: we are eyther leade with a vayne glo­rye of our proper personage, or with selfe loue of our sharpe capacitie, either entangled with beautie, or sedu­ced by idle pastimes, eyther witcht with vicious com­pany of others, or inueigled with our owne conceits, of all these things I may the bolder speake, hauing tryed it true to mine owne trouble.

To the entente therefore that all younge gentlemen might shunne my former losenesse I haue set it downe, and that all might follow my future lyfe, I meane héere to shewe what fathers shoulde doe, what children shoulde followe, desiring them both not re­iecte it bicause it procéedeth from one which hath bene lewde, no more then if they woulde neglect the golde bycause it lyeth in the durtye earthe or the pure wyne for that it commeth out of an homely presse, or the precious stone Aetites which is [...]ounde in the filthy neastes of the Eagle, or the precious gemme Dra­conites that is euer taken out of the heade of the poyso­ned Dragon. But to my purpose.

ATheos. I am gladde Euphues that I haue founde thée at leasure, partly that we might be merry, and partly that I mighte bée perswaded in a thinge that much troubleth my conscience. It is concerning God. There bée manye that are of this minde, that there is a God whom they tearme the creator of all things, a God whom they call the sonne the redéemer of the worlde, a God whome they name the holy Ghost, the worker of all thinges, the comforter, the spirite, and yet are they of this opi­nion also, that they be but one God, coequall in power, coeternal, incomprehensible, & yet a Trinitie in person. I for my parte although I am not so credulous to be­leeue their curious opinions, yet am I desirous to heare the reasons that should driue them into such fonde and [Page] frenticke imaginations. For as I know nothing to be so absurde which some of the Philosophers haue not defended, so thinke I nothing so erronious which some of our Catholickes haue not maynteyned. If there were, as diuers dreame, a God that would reuenge the oppression of the widdowes and fatherlesse, that would rewarde the zeale of the mercifull, pittie the poore and pa [...]don the penitent, then woulde the people eyther stande in greater awe, or owe more loue towards their God.

I remember Tullye disputinge of the nature of Gods, bringeth Dionisius as a scoffer of such vayne and deuised Deities, who séeinge Aesculapius with a longe bearde of golde, and Apollo his father bearde­lesse, played the Barbar and shaued if from him, saying, it was not decent that the sonne shoulde haue a bearde and the father none. Seeing also Iupiter with an orna­ment of golde tooke it from him iesting thus, In Sum­mer this aray is too heauie, in Winter too colde, héere I leaue one of wollen, both warmer for the colde and lyghter for the heat. He comming also into y ^e Temple wher certeyne of the gods with golden giftes stretched out their handes, tooke them all away saying, Who will bee so madde as to refuse thinges so gentlye of­f [...]red.

Dost thou not sée Euphues what small accompt hée made of their gods, sor at y ^e last sayling into his coun­trey with a prosperous winde, he laughing sayde, loe sée you not my Maysters, how well the Gods rewarde our Sacriledge. I coulde rehearse infinite opinions of excellent men who in this poynte holde on my side, but especiallye Protago [...]as. And in my iudgement if there be any God, it is the worlde wherein we lyue, that is the onely God, what can we beholde more no­ble then the worlde, more faire, more beautifull, more [Page 68] glorious? what more maiesticall to the sight, or more constant in substance? But this by the way Euphues, I haue greter & more forcible arguments to confirme my opinion, & to confute the errors of those that imagine that there is a God. But first I woulde gladly heare thée shape an aunswere to that which I haue sayde, for well I knowe that thou arte not onely one of those which beléeue that ther is a god, but of them also [...] which are so precise in honouring him, that they be scarce wise in helping themselues.

Euphues. If my hope ( Atheos) were not better to conuerte thee, then my happe was heere to conferre with thée, my hearte woulde breake for griefe, which beginneth freshly to bléede for sorrowe, thou hast stro­ken mée into such a shiuering and colde terror at the re­hearsing of this thy monstrous opinion, that I looke euery minute when the grounde shoulde open to swal­lowe thée vpp, and that God which thou knowest not shoulde with thunder from Heauen strike thée to Hell. Was there euer Barbarian so sencelesse, euer miscre­aunt so bar [...]arous, that did not acknowledge a lyuinge and euerlasting Iehouah? I cannot but tremble at the remembra [...]nce of his maiestie, and dost thou make it a mockerie?

O iniquitie of times, O corruption of maners, O blas­phemie against the heauens. The Heathen man sayth, yea that Tullye whome thou thy selfe alleadgest, that there is no nation so barbarous, no kinde of people so sauage in whom resteth not this perswasion that there is a God, and euen they that in other partes of theire lyfe séeme very lyttle to differ from brute beastes, doe continually kéepe a certeyne seede of Relygion, so throughlye hath this common principle possessed all mens mindes, and so faste it sticketh in all mens bowells.

[Page]Yea Idolatrye it selfe is sufficient proofe of this per­swasion for we sée how willyngly man abaseth himselfe to honour other creatures, to doe homage to stockes, to goe on pilgrimage to images, if therefore man ra­ther then he woulde haue no God doe worship a stone, how much more art thou duller then a stone which go­est against the opinion of all men.

Plato a Philosopher woulde often say, there is one whome we may call God omnipotent, glorious, immor­tall, vnto whose similytude we that créepe héere on the earthe haue our soules framed. What can be sayde more of a Heathen, yea, what more of a Christian? Aristotle when he coulde not finde out by the secrecie of Nature the cause of the ebbing and flowing of the Sea, cryed out with a loude voyce, O thing of things haue mercy vpon mee.

Cleanthes alleadged foure causes, which might in­duce man to acknowledge a God, the first by the fore­séeing of things to come, the second by the infinite com­modities which we dayly reape, as by the temperature of the aire, the fatnesse of the earth, the fruitefulnesse of trees, plantes and hearbes, the aboundaunce of all thinges that may eyther serue for the necessitie of ma­ny, or the superfluitie of a few, the thirde by the ter­ror that the minde of man is stroken into, by lyghte­nings, thunderings, tempestes, hayles, snow, earth­quakes, pestilence, by the straunge and terrible fightes which cause vs to tremble, as the rayning of bl [...]ud, the firie impressions in the Elemente, the ouerflowinge of [...]loudes in the earth, the prodigious shapes and vnna­turall formes of men, of beastes, of birdes, of fishes, of all creatures, the appearing of blasing Commettes, which euer prognosticate some straunge mutation, the sighte of two Sunnes which happened in the Consul­shippe of Tudit [...]nus and Aquilius, with these things [Page 69] mortall men béeing afrighted are enforced to acknow­ledge an immortall & omnipotent God. The fourth by y ^e equalitie of mouing in the heauen, the course of the Sunne, the order of the starres, the beautifulnesse of the Element, the sight whereof might sufficiently induce vs to beléeue they procéede not by chaunce, by na­ture, or destinie, but by the eternall and diuine purpose of some omnipotent Deitie. Héereoff it came that when the Philosophers could giue no reason by nature, they would saye there is one aboue nature, an other would cal him the first mouer, an other the ayder of na­ture, and so foorth.

But why goe I about in a thing so manifest to vse proofes so manifolde. If thou denie the truth who can proue it, if thou denie that blacke is blacke, who can by reason reproue thée, when thou opposest thy self against reason, thou knowest that manifest truthes are not to be proued but beléeued, and that he that denieth the principles of any Arte is not to bée confuted by argu­mentes, but to bée left to his owne folly. But I haue a better opinion of thée, and therefore I meane not to trifle wyth Philosophy but to trye this by the touch­stone of the Scriptures. We reade in the seconde of Exodus, that when Moses desired of God to knowe what hée should name him to the children of Israell, hée aunswered, thou shalte saye, I am that I am. A­gayne, hée that is hath sent mée vnto you. The Lorde euen your God, hée is God in the heauen aboue and in the earth beneath, I am y ^e first, & the last I am. I am the Lorde, and there is none other besides mée. Agayne, I am the Lord and there is none other. I haue created the lyght and made darkenesse, making peace and fra­ming euill. If thou desire to vnderstande what God is, thou shalt heare, he is euen a consuming fire, the Lorde of reuenge, the God of iudgement, the liuing God, the [Page] searcher of the reynes, he that made all things of no­thing, Alpha and Omega, the beginning and yet with­out beginning, the ende and yet euerlastinge, one at whose breath the mountaines shall shake, whose seat is the loftie Cherubins, whose footestoole is the earthe inuisible, yet séeinge all things, a gelous God, a louing God, myraculous in all pointes, in no part monstrous. Besides this, thou shalt well vnderstande that hée is such a God as wil punish him whosoeuer he be y ^e blas­phemeth his name, for holy is the Lord. It is written, bring out the blasphemer without y ^e tents & let al those that hearde him laye their handes vppon hys heade, and let all the people stone him. He that blasphemeth the name of the Lorde shall dye the death. Suche a gelous God, that whosoeuer committeth Idolatrye wyth straunge Gods hée will strike wyth terrible plagues? Tourne not to Idols neyther make Gods wyth handes, I am the Lord your God: Thou shalte make no Image which the Lorde thy God abhorreth. Thou shalt haue no newe GOD, neyther worshyp any straunge Idoll. For all the Gods of the Gentiles are Diuels.

My sonnes kéepe your selues from Images, the worshippinge of Idols is the cause of all euyll, the beginninge and the ende. Cursed bée that man that engraueth any Images, it is an abhominatiō before the Lorde. They shall be confounded that worshippe gra­uen Images, or glory in Idols. I wyll not giue my glorye to an other, nor my prayses to grauen Images. If all these testimonies of the Scriptures cannot make thée to acknowledge a lyuinge GOD, harken what they saye of such as be altogether incredulous. Euery vnbeleeuer shall dye in his incredulitie. Woe be to those that bee loose in heart, they beléeue there is no God, and therefore they shall not bée protected of him. [Page 70] The wrathe of the Lorde shall kindle agaynste an vnbléeuinge nation. If yée beléeue not yée shall not endure. Hée that beléeueth not shall bée damned. Hée that beléeueth not is iudged alreadye. The portion of the vnbeléeuers shall be in the lake that burneth wyth fire and brimstome which is the seconde death. If thou feele in thy selfe Atheos anye sparke of grace praye vnto the Lorde and hée wyll cause it to flame, if thou haue no feelinge of fayth, yet praye and the Lorde wyll gyue aboundaunce, for as hée is a terrible God, whose voyce is lyke the rushinge of many wa­ters, so is he a mercifull God whose woordes are as softe as Oyle. Though he breath fire out of his no­strils agaynst sinners, yet is he milde to those that aske forgiuenesse. But if thou bée obstinate that seeinge thou wylt not sée, and knowing thou wylt not acknow­ledge, then shall thy heart bée hardened wyth Pharao, and grace shall bée taken awaye from thée with Saule. Thus sayth the Lorde, who so beléeueth not shall pe­rishe, heauen and earth shall passe, but the word of the Lord shall endure for euer.

Submyt thy selfe before the throne of hys Ma­iestye, and his mercye shall saue thée. Honour the Lorde and it shalll bée well wyth thée. Besides him feare no straunge God. Honour the Lorde wyth all thy soule. Offer vnto God the sacrifice of prayse. Be not lyke the hipocrites whiche honour God with their lips, but be farre from hym with their heartes, neyther lyke y ^e foole which sayth his in heart, ther is no God. But if thou wylt stil perseuer in thine obstinacie thine end shal be worse then thy beginning, y ^e Lord, yea, thy sauiour shal come to be thy Iudge when thou shalt beholde him come in glory with millions of Angels and Archangels, when thou shalt sée him appeare in thun­dringes and lyghtninges and flashinges of fire, when [Page] [...]he mountaynes shall melt, and the heauens be wrap­ped vp lyke a scrowle, when all the earth shall trem­ble, with what face wilt thou beholde his glorye that deniest his Godhead? how canst thou abide his presence that beléeuest not his essence? what hope canst thou haue to be saued which diddest neuer acknowledge a­any to be thy Sauiour? Then shall it be sayde to thée and to all those of thy s [...]cte (vnlesse ye r [...]pent) depart all yee workers of iniquitie, there shall bée wéepinge and gnashing of téeth. When you shal sée Abraham, I­saac, and Iacob, and all the Prophets in the kingdome of God, and yée to bée thrust out: You shall conceyue heate and bringe foorth woode, your owne consciences shall consume you lyke fire. Héere dost thou sée Athe­os the threatninges agaynst vnbeléeuers, and the pu­nishment prepared for miscreantes. What better or sounder proofe canst thou haue that there is a GOD then thine owne conscience, which is vnto thée a thou­sande wytnesses? Consider wyth thy selfe that thy soule is immortal, made to the Image of the almighty God: bée not curious to enquire of God, but carefull to beléeue, neither bée thou desperate if thou sée thy sinnes abounde, but faythfull to obteine mercy, for the Lorde will saue thée bycause it is hys pleasure, searche therefore the Scriptures for they testifie of him.

Atheos. Truely Euphues you haue sayde some­what, but you goe about contrarye to the customes of schooles, which mée thinckes you shoulde dilygentlye obserue béeinge a professed Philosopher, for when I demaunde by what reason men are induced to acknow­ledge a God, you confirme it by course of Scrip­ture, as who shoulde saye there were not a relaty­on betwéene GOD and the Scripture, bycause as the olde Fathers define, wythout Scripture there [Page 71] were no GOD, no Scripture without a GOD. Whosoeuer therefore denyeth a Godhead, denyeth also the scriptures which testifie of him. This is in my opi­nion absurdum per absurdius to proue one absurditie by an other. If thou canst as substantiallye by reason proue thy authoritie of Scriptures to be true, as thou hast proued by Scriptures there is a God, then will I willyngly with thée both beléeue the Scriptures, and worshippe thy God. I haue heard that Antiochus com­maunded all the copies of the Testament to bée burnt, from whence therefore haue we these newe bookes, I thincke thou wilt not saye by reuelation, therefore goe forwarde.

Euphues. I haue read of the milke of a Tygresse that the more salte there is throwne into it the fresher it is, and it may be that thou hast eyther eaten of that milke, or that thou arte the Whelpe of that Monster, for the more reasons that are beate into thy head, the more vnreasonable thou séemest to bée, the greater my authorities are, the lesser is thy beliefe. As touching the authoritie of Scriptures although there be manye arguments which do proue yea and enforce the wicked to confesse that the Scriptures came from God, yet by none other meane then by the secrete testimony of the holy Ghost our heartes are truely perswaded that it is God which speaketh in the lawe, in the Prophets, in the Gospell, the orderly disposition of the wisedome of God, the doctrine sauoring nothing of earthlynesse, the godly agreement of all parts amonge themselues, and specially the basenesse of contemptible wordes vt­tering the high misteryes of the heauenly kingedome, are seconde helpes to establish the Scriptures.

Moreouer the antiquitie of the Scripture, whereas the bookes of other Relygions are later then the bookes of Moses, which yet doth not himselfe inuent a newe [Page] God, but setteth foorth to the Israelites the God of their fathers. Whereas Moses doth not byde the shame of Leuy his father, nor the mourninge of Aaron his brother, and of Marie his sister, nor doth aduannce his owne children: The same are arguments that in his booke is nothing fayned by man. Also the myracles that happened as well at the publyshing of the lawe as in all the rest of time are infallyble proofes that the Scrip­tures procéeded from the mouth of God. Also where­as Moses speaking in the person of Iacob, assigneth go­uernment to the Tribe of Iuda, and where he telleth be­fore of the callynge of the Gentiles, whereof the one came to passe foure hundreth yeares after, the other al­most two thousande yeares, these are arguments that it is GOD himselfe that speaketh in the bookes of Moses.

Whereas Esay telleth before of the captiuitie of the Iewes and their restoryng by Cyrus (which was borne an hundreth yeares after the deathe of Esay) and wheras Ier [...]my before the people were led away apoin­teth their exile to continew thréescore and ten yeares. Whereas Ieremy and Ezechiel béeinge farre distaunt in places the one from the other doe agrée in all theire sayings. Where Daniel telleth of things to come sixe hundreth yeares after. These are most certeyne proues to establish the authoritie of the bookes of the Prophets, the simplycitie of the speach of the first thrée Euaungelysts, conteyninge heauenlye mysteries, the prayse of Iohn thundring from on high with weyghty sentences, the heauenlye maiestie shininge in the wri­tings of Peter and Paule, the sodayne callyng of Ma­thew from the receipte of custome, the callyng of Pe­ter and Iohn from their fisher boates to the preaching of the Gospell, the conuersion and callyng of Paule bée­ing an enemy to the Apostleshippe are signes of the ho­lye [Page 72] Ghost speaking in them. The consent of so many ages, of so sundrye nations, and of so diuers mindes, in embracing the Scriptures, and the rare godlynesse of some, oughte to establish the authoritie thereoff a­mongst vs. Also the bloude of so many Martyrs which for the confession thereoff haue suffred deathe with a constant and sober zeale, are vndoubted testi­monyes of the truthe and authoritie of the Scrip­tures.

The myracles that Moses recounteth are suffient to perswade vs that God, yea, the God of hoastes, sette downe the Scriptures. For this that hée was carryed in a clowde vpp into the mountayne: that there euen vntill the fortith daye he continued without the com­panye of men. That in the verye publyshinge of the lawe his face did shine as it were besette with Sunne beames, that lyghteninges flashed rounde about, that thunder and noyses were eache where hearde in the ayre, that a Trompette sownded being not sownded with any mouth of man.

That the entry of the Tabernacle by a clowde set betweene was kepte from the sighte of the people, that his authoritie was so miraculously reuenged with the horrible destruction of Chorah, Dathan, and Abiron, and all that wicked faction, that the rocke stroken with a rodde did by and by powre foorthe a ryuer, that at his prayer, it rayned Manna from Heauen. Dyd not God héerein commend him from Heauen as an vn­doubted Prophet?

Nowe as touchinge the tyrannye of Antiochus, which commaunded all the bookes to be burned, héere­in GODS singuler prouidence is séene, which hath alwayes kepte his woorde bo [...]h from the migh­tye that they coulde neuer extinguishe the same, and [Page] from the mallitious that they coulde neuer diminish it. Ther were diuers copyes which god of his great good­nes kept from the bloudie proclamation of Antiochus, & by & by followed the translating of them into Greeke, that they might be publyshed vnto the whole worlde. The Hebrew tongue lay not onely vnestéemed but al­most vnknown, and surely had it not bene Gods will to haue his religiō prouided for, it had altogether perished. Th [...]u seest Atheos how the Scriptures come from the mouth of God, & are written by the finger of the Holy Ghost, in y ^e consciences of all the faythfull. But if thou be so curious to aske other questions, or so quarrellous to striue agaynst the truth, I must aunswer thee, as an olde father answered a young foole which néedes would know what God did before he made Heauen, to whom he said, hell, for such curious inquisitors of gods secrets, whose wisedome is not to be comprehended, for who is he that can measure the winde or way the fire, or at­tayne vnto the vnsearcheable iudgementes of the Lorde.

Besides this, where the Holy Ghost hath ceased to sette downe, there ought we to cease to enquire, séeing we haue y ^e sufficiencie of our saluation conteined in ho­ly Scripture. It were an absurditie in schooles, if one béeing vrged with a place in Aristotle could finde none other shifte to auoyde a blancke then in doubting whe­ther Aristotle spake such words or no. Shall it then be tollerable to denye the Scriptures hauing no other co­lour to auoyde an inconuenience, but by doubting whe­ther they procéede from the holy Ghost? But that such doubtes aryse amonge many in our age, the reason is, theire lyttle faythe, not the insufficient proofe of the cause.

Thou mayst as well demaund how I proue white to be white, or blacke, blacke, and why it shoulde bée [Page 73] called white rather then gréene. Such grosse questi­ons are to be aunswered with slender reasons, and such idle heades would be scoffed with adle aunsweres. He that hath no motion of God in his minde, no féelinge of the spirite, no tast of heauenly thinges, no remorce in conscience, no sparke of zeale, is rather to be con­founded by tormentes, then reasons, for it is an euy­dent and infallible signe that the holy Ghost hath not sealed his conscience, whereby hée myght crye Abba Father, I coulde alledge Scripture to proue that the godly shoulde refraine from the companye of the wic­ked, which although thou wylt not beléeue, yet will it condemne thée. Sainct Paul sayth, I desire you brethren that you absteine from the companye of those that walke inordinatelye. Agayne my sonne i [...] sinners shall flatter thée gyue no eare vnto them, flye from the euill, and euils shall flye from thée.

And surely were it not to confute thy detestable heresie, and bringe thée if it might be to some taste of the holy Ghost, I would abandon all place of thy a­bode, for I thincke the grounde accursed whereon th [...]u standest: Thine opinions are so monstrous that I cannot tell whether thou wylte cast a doubt also whe­ther thou haue a soule or no, whiche if thou doe, I meane not to wast winde in prouing that which thine infidellitie wyll not permit thée to beléeue, for if thou hast as yet felt no tast of the spirit working in thée, then sure I am that to proue the immortallitie of the soule were bootelesse, if thou haue a secrete féelinge, then it were néedlesse. And God graunt thée that glowinge and sting in conscience that thy soule may witnesse to thy selfe that there is a liuing God, and thy heart shed drops of bloud as a token of repentance, in that thou hast denied that God, and so I cōmit thée to God, and that which I cannot do with any perswasion I wil not [Page] leaue to attempt with my prayer. Atheos. Nay stay a while good Euphues & leaue not him perplexed w ^t feare, whom thou maist make perfect by faith. For now I am brought into such a double & doubtfull distresse that I knowe not howe to tourne mée, if I beléeue not the Scriptures, then shall I be damned for vnbeliefe, if I beléeue them then I shall be confounded for my wyc­ked lyfe. I knowe the whole course of the Bible which if I shoulde beléeue then must I also beléeue that I am an abiect. For thus sayth Heli to his sonnes, if man sin againe man, God can forgiue it, if against God who shall entreate for him? [...]e that sinneth is of the Dyuell, the rewarde of sinne is death, thou shalte not suffer the wicked to lyue: take all the Princes of the people and hange them vp agaynst the Sunne on Iyb­bets, that my anger maye bée tourned from Israell, these sayinges of holy Scripture cause mée to tremble and shake in euery sinnewe. Agayne this saith the ho­ly Byble nowe shall the scowrge fall vppon thée for thou hast sinned, beholde I set a curse before you to daye if you shall not harken to the commaundementes of the Lorde, all they that haue forsaken the Lorde shall be confounded,

Furthermore, where threates are poured out a­gaynst sinners, my heart bléedeth in my bellye to re­member them, I wyll come vnto you in iudgement sayth the Lorde, and I wyll be a swifte and a seuere witnesse, offenders, adulterers, and those that haue committed periurie and retained the duetie of the hire­linges, oppressed the widowes, misused the straunger, and those that haue not feared me the Lord of hoasts. Out of his mouth shall come a two edged swoorde. Be­holde I come quickly, and bringe my rewarde with me, which is to yelde euery one according to his desertes. Great is the day of the Lord and terrible, and who is he [Page 74] that may abide him? What shall I then doe when the Lord shall arise to iudge, and when hée shall demaund what shal I answere? Besides this, the names y ^t in holy scripture are attributed to God bring a terrour to my guiltie conscience. He is said to be a terrible God, a God of reuenge, whose voice is like the thūder, whose breath maketh al the corners of the earth to shake & tremble. These things Euphues testifie vnto my conscience that if there be a God, he is the God of the righteous, & one that wil confound the wicked. Whether therefore shal I goe, or how may I auoide the day of vengeance to come? if I goe to heauen that is his seate, if into the earth that is his footstoole, if into the depth he is there also: Who can shrowde himself from the face of y ^e Lord, or where can one hide him that the Lord cannot finde him? his wordes are like fire and the people lyke drye woode and shalbe consumed. Euphues. Although I can­not but reioyce to heare thée acknowledge a God, yet must I néedes lament to sée thée so much distrust him. The Diuell that roaring Lyon seing his pray to be ta­ken out of his iawes, alledgeth al Scripture y ^t may con­demne the sinner, leauing al out that should comfort y ^e sorrowful. Much like vnto y ^e deceitfull Phisition which recounteth all things that may endomage his patient, neuer telling any thing y ^t may recure him. Let not thy conscience be agrieued, but with a patiēt heart renounce all thy former iniquities and thou shalt receiue eternall life. Assure thy selfe that as God is a Lord so he is a fa­ther, as Christ is a Iudge, so he is a Sauiour, as ther is a lawe, so there is a Gospel. Though God haue leaden handes whiche when they strike paye home, yet hath he leaden féet which are as slow to ouertake a sinner. Heare therfore the great comfort flowing in euery leafe & line of the Scripture if thou be patient. I my selfe am euen hée which doth blotte out thy transgressions [Page] and that for mine owne sake, and I will not be minde­full of thy sinnes. Beholde the Lordes hande is not shortned that it cannot saue, neither his eare heauy, that it cannot heare. If your sinnes were as Crimosin they shall be made whiter then Snow, & though they were as red as Scarlet they shall be made like white Woll. If we confesse our offences hée is faythfull and iuste so that he will forgiue vs our sinnes. God hathe not appointed vs vnto wrath but vnto saluation, by the meanes of our Lorde Iesus Christe, the earthe is filled with the mercye of the Lorde. It is not the will of your Father which is in heauen that any one of the little ones should perishe. God is riche in mercye. I will not the death of a sinner sayth the Lord God, retourne and lyue. The sonne of man came not to de­stroye but to saue. God hath mercy on all, bycause hée can doe all. God is mercifull, longe sufferinge and of much mercy. If the wicked man shall repent of hys wickednesse which hée hath committed, and kéepe my commaundementes, doinge Iustice and iudgement hée shall lyue the lyfe, and shall not dye. If I shall saye vnto the sinner thou shalt dye the death, yet if hée re­pent and doe Iustice he shall not dye. Call to thy minde the great goodnesse of God in creating thée, his singu­ler loue in giuing his sonne for thée. So God loued the worlde that he gaue his onely begotten sonne that who­soeur beléeued in him myght not perish but haue euer­lasting life. God hath not sent his sonne to iudge the world, but that the worlde might be saued by him. Can the Mother (sayth the Prophet) forget the chylde of hir wombe, & though she be so vnnaturall, yet will I not be vnmindefull of thée. There shalbe more ioye in heauen for y ^e repentaunce of one sinner thē for nintie & nine iust persons. I came not saith Christ to cal y ^e righteous but sinners to repentāce. If any mā sin, we haue an aduocate [Page 75] with the father Iesus Christe the righteous, hée is the propitiation for our sinnes, and not for our sinnes onely but for the sinnes of the whole worlde. I write vnto you little children bicause your sinnes be forgiuen for his names sake. Doth not Christ saye that whatsoeuer wée shall aske the Father in his name wée shall ob­tayne? Doth not God saye this is my beloued sonne in whome I am well pleased, heare him? I haue reade of Themistocles which hauing offended Philip y ^e king of Macedonia, & could no way apease his anger, méeting his young sonne Alexander tooke him in his armes, & met Philip in the face: Philip séeing y ^e smilyng counte­naunce of the childe, was well pleased with Themi­stocles. Euen so if through thy manifolde sinnes and haynous offences thou prouoke the heauye displeasure of thy God insomuch as thou shalt tremble for horror, take his onelye begotten and welbeloued sonne Iesus in thine armes, and then he neyther can nor will bée angry with thée. If thou haue denyed thy God, yet if thou goe out with Peter and wéepe bitterly, God will not deny thée. Though with the prodigall sonne thou wallow in thine owne wilfulnesse, yet if thou retourne agayne sorrowfull thou shalt be receiued. If thou bée a grieuous offender, yet if thou come vnto Christ with the woman in Luke and wash his féete with thy teares thou shalt obteyne remission.

Consider with thy selfe the great loue of Christ and the bitter torments that he endured for thy sake, which was enforced through the horror of death to crye with a loude voyce. Eloi, Eloi, Lamasabathani, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken mée, and with a groning spirite to say, my soule is heauie euen vnto the deathe, tarry héere and watch, and agayne, father if it be pos­sible lette this cuppe passe from mée. Remember how he was crowned with thornes, crucified with théeues, [Page] scourged and hanged for thy saluation, how hée swette water and bloude, for thy remission, how he endured euen the torments of the damned spirites for thy re­demption, how he ouercame death y ^t thou shouldst not dye, how he conquered the Diuell y ^t thou migh [...]est not be damned. When thou shalt record what he hath done to purchase thy fréedome, how canst thou dreade bondage? When thou shalt beholde the agonyes and anguish of minde that he suffered for thy sake, how canst thou doubte of the release of thy soule? When thy Sauiour shall be thy Iudge, why shouldest thou trem­ble to heare of iudgement? When thou hast a continu­all Mediator with God the father, howe canst thou di­strust of his fauour.

Turne therefore vnto Christ with a willyng hearte & a waylyng minde for thy offences, who hath promi­sed y ^t at what time soeuer a sinner repenteth him of his sinnes he shal be forgiuen, who [...]alleth al those that are heauie laden, that they might be refreshed, who is the dore to them that knocke, the waye to them that séeke, the truthe, the rocke, the corner stone, the fulnesse of time, it is he y ^t can & will poure oyle into thy wounds. Who absolued Marie Magdalene from hir sinnes but Christ? Who forgaue the théefe his robbery and man­slaughter but Christ? Who made Mathew the Publy­cane and tollgatherer, an Apostle and Preacher but Christ? Who is that good shepehearde that fetcheth home the straye shéepe so louingly vppon his shoulders but Christ? Who receiued home the lost sonne, was it not Christ? Who made of Saul a persecuter, Paul an Apostle, was it not Christ? I passe ouer diuers other hi­stories both of the olde and new Testament which do aboundantly declare what great com [...]orte the faithfull penitent sinners haue alwayes had in hearing the com­fortable promises of Gods mercy. Canst thou then A­theos [Page 76] distrust thy Christ who reioyceth at thy repen­taunce? Assure thy selfe that through his passion and bloudshedding, death hath lost his sting, the Diuill his victory, and that the gates of hell shall not preuayle a­gaynst thée. Lette not therefore the bloude of Christ be shed in vayne by thine obstinate and harde hearte. Let this perswasion rest in thée that thou shalt receiue absolution fréely, and then shalt thou féele thy soule e­uen as it were to hunger and thirst after rightuousnes.

Atheos. Well Euphues séeing the Holy Ghost hath made thée y ^e meane to make me a man (for before y ^e tast of the gospell I was worse then a beast) I hope y ^e same spirite wil also lyghten my conscience with his word, & confirme it to the ende in constancie, y ^t I may not only confesse my Christ faithfully, but also preach him fréely, that I may not only be a Minister of his word but also a Martir for it, it be his pleasure. O Euphues howe much am I bound to y ^e goodne [...] almightie god, which hath made me of an infidell a beléeuer, of a castaway a Christian, of an heathenly Pagan an heauenly Prote­stant. O how comfortable is the féelyng & tast of grace, how ioyfull are the glad tidings of the Gospell, y ^e faith­full promises of saluation, y ^e frée redemption of y ^e soule. I will endeauour by all meanes to confute those dam­nable, I know not by what names to terme them, but blasphemers I am sure, which if they be no more cer­teinly they can be no lesse. I sée now y ^e ods betwixt light & darkenes, faith & frowardnes, Christ & Belial, be thou Euphues a witnes of my faith séeing thou hast ben the instrument of my beliefe, and I will pray that I shewe it in my lyfe. As for thée I accompt my selfe so much in thy debt as I shal neuer be able w ^t the losse of my life to rēder thée thi due, but god which rewardeth y ^e zeale of al men wil I hope blesse thee, & I wil pray for thée. Eu. O Atheos little is y ^e debt thou owest me, but great is y ^e [Page] comfort that I haue receiued by thée. Giue the praise to God, whose goodnesse hath made thée a member of the mysticall body of Christe, and not onely a brother with his sonne, but also a coheriter with thy Sauiour. There is no heart so hard, no heathen so obstinate, no miscreaunt or Infidell so impious that by grace is not made as supple as oyle, as tractable as a shéepe, as faith­full as any. The Adamant though it be so harde that nothinge can bruse it, yet if the warme bloude of a Goate be poured vpon it, it bursteth: euen so although the heart of the Atheist and vnbeléeuer be so hard that neither reward nor reuenge can mollyfie it, so stout that no perswasion can breake it, yet if the grace of God purchased by the bloude of Christe, doe but once towch it, it renteth in sunder, and is enforced to acknowledge an omnipotent and euerlasting Iehoua. Lette vs therefore both ( Atheos I will not nowe call thée, but Theophilus) fly vnto that Christ which hath through his mercy, not our me­rits, purchased for vs the enheri­taunce of euerlasting lyfe.